Freeks(43)

“You know, everybody knows everybody’s business around here,” she said quietly, as if everyone was crowded outside our doors, listening. “That means I’ve known for days that you’ve been running around with some boy, a rich townie, and I’ve been waiting for you to tell me. And you never did.”

I turned to face her. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I just…” I sighed. “I knew it wasn’t anything serious, and I didn’t want you to lecture me about not being safe or getting too attached.”

“Oh, qamari.” Her mouth curved into a sad smile. “You’re a young woman. You want your own life, your own dreams, your own loves. I wouldn’t expect any less from you.

“When I was your age, your grandma Basima was still dragging me around the country, chasing the promise of riches or love from yet another snake-oil salesman.” My mom affected the same weary tone she always did when she talked about her mother.

I hadn’t known my grandma all that well, since she’d died when I was three. By the time I was born, Grandma Basima had already started spiraling. Mom claimed that Grandma had overused her powers as a necromancer, and it drove her crazy.

Around the time I was born, she developed dementia-like symptoms, and my mom had to put her in a special home. It was impossible to care for my grandma and me while traveling on the road.

The only thing else I really knew about my grandma had to do with the skull key with the ruby eyes my mom wore around her neck. I couldn’t see it now—it was tucked safely beneath her top, so she could wear it next to her skin—but I knew the key was there. It was always there.

The key belonged to Grandma Basima’s steamer trunk that I’d only seen a handful of times, despite the fact that we carried it with us always. My mom kept it in the cargo area of the Winnebago, below the floor.

When I was young, if I tried to touch it, Mom would slap my hands and tell me to never touch it. It’s not for play, she had warned me, and as I got older, she explained to me that the trunk contained tools of the dark arts.

“She’d had hundreds of boyfriends and thousands of jobs, and none of them were ever the right one,” Mom explained. “So I promised myself that one day I would settle down, fall in love, and have a family.”

She forced a smile so pained, I was afraid she might crack. My mom always tried to hold herself with such dignity, despite our circumstances, but underneath, I knew how much she hurt.

“But I didn’t know how to escape, so I gave in to temptation and used the gift your grandma passed down to me,” Mom went on. “The spirits never left me alone, making it impossible to hold down a steady job, and your father…”

She trailed off, letting that hang in the air for a moment. “Well, your father couldn’t handle the life of a bedouin, but not many can.”

“It’s not a bad life,” I said, and that was true.

My life with a traveling sideshow had been chaotic, and we’d always been on the edge of poverty. But we all took care of each other and looked out for one another. I was never alone, and no one here ever treated me like I was a freak or different, because I wasn’t. I was just one of them.

“Mara.” Mom held up her hand to me. “I want you to have the things I could never have, that I could never give you. That means that someday you’ll find love and make a home. And that’s why you must never, ever open your mind to the spirits.”

I did my best not to roll my eyes or look annoyed. “I know, Mom. You’ve only told me that about a thousand times.”

“Mara, I am serious,” she snapped. “This place”—she gestured vaguely around, wagging her fingers in the air—“the energy will tempt you, but you mustn’t let it. That’s why I’m happy you’re seeing this boy.”

“Why?” I asked. “He’s from here. Kinda.”

“Yes, but he’ll keep you distracted while we’re here, so you can avoid whatever it is that’s pulling everyone else in all directions.” She cast a derisive glance out the window, at the swamp that lurked behind the campsite. “And when the week is up, you’ll say your sad good-byes, and we’ll move on. Then you’ll find a nice boy you can really fall in love with.”

I tugged at a lock of hair that had come loose from my ponytail and stared down at my lap. “But Gabe is a nice boy.”

“He seemed nice enough, and very respectful,” Mom allowed. “But there will be other boys, nicer ones. Ones that aren’t too wealthy and don’t live in a place filled with a dangerous energy.”

Still staring down, I chewed my lip. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, but it’s the truth, and the truth rarely makes anyone feel better.” Mom got off her bed and sat down beside me, putting her arm around me as she did. “I’m sorry, qamari. I didn’t mean to make you sad.

“I only meant to tell you that I understood and that you didn’t need to hide things from me,” she went on. “And now I’ve only succeeded in convincing you the opposite, I suppose.”

“No, you didn’t.” I leaned into her, allowing her to hug me close.

“It’s only a few more days, and then we’ll be out of here and off to somewhere brighter and better,” Mom promised, but that thought hurt so much more than it would’ve before we got to Caudry. Before Gabe.