The Witch Part 9
It wasn’t until a full three days later when Donatella finally realized that nobody else could see Maura except for her. They had been spending much of their time on Belle Isle having all the fun in the world that two young girls could have. Sometimes they would run ‘round and ‘round the huge white marble sculpture of a fountain at the center of the park playing a form of tag where they would change direction as soon as one would tag the other. Other times they would just sit anywhere near the river, knees tucked up under their chins, and stare out at the river without saying a word. Without needing to. At night Maura would always be the one to find a safe place to sleep where they couldn’t be found until the next day. There was never a need, time, or, quite frankly, any willingness to care about the strange, questioning reactions and expressions that surrounded their antics like spectators.
But on this particular third day it was a Sunday and cloudy. They were standing outside one of those small mini-marts that you only ever saw in Black neighborhoods where nobody paid attention to things like expiration dates and stuff like that. Either you wanted a thing or you didn’t, so don’t waste your time with questions. Donatella had felt her stomach starting to rumble (how had she not felt hungry for three whole days?), and Maura, hearing the sound, suggested they depart from the island for the day and find something to fill that emptiness.
“They have pretty good stuff in here,” said Maura, as the two of them stood by the entrance appearing slightly grubby from three days without a bath, a shower, a comb or a change of clothes.
“Like what?” asked Donatella. “I’m really hungry.”
“Yeah. I can tell. Sorry. I should have gotten you something before. I kinda forgot.”
Donatella’s face rearranged itself into a puzzle.
“How come you not hungry, Maura? You haven’t eaten anything either, unless you snuck something one of those nights when I was sleep.”
Maura looked mock-offended, then laughed.
“Little girl what makes you think I would ever do anything like that to you? We sisters, you and me.”
The puzzle relaxed into a cautious smile.
“For real? But it’s only been three days!”
“Somebody tell you it’s supposed to take longer than that?”
Donatella giggled, then shook her head.
“Naw.”
“Good. I didn’t think so. ‘Cause there ain’t no rules to this thing out here. There’s just makin’ it and not makin’ it. And you and me? Together? We gonna make it. Now we gotta get you something to eat. C’mon, follow me.”
“But you got money though? ‘Cause I don’t have any.”
Maura gave her new sister a sly smile and a wink as the two of them followed an older gentleman inside.
“Money’s overrated,” she said.
“But…”
“Shhhhhhhh. C’mon. Time to teach you something. Hey, you want a Honey Bun? You want two?”
Donatella nodded her head enthusiastically.
“They’re over there, down that row. You go ahead and grab you a couple, and whatever else you want, then meet me by the cash register, OK?”
Donatella cocked her small head to the side, her face once again a puzzle. Maura shook her head in exasperation, then gave her friend a mischievous shove toward the Honey Bun aisle.
“Go on. I got this. You worry too much.”
So Donatella made her way to the aisle on the far side of the store, grabbed what she wanted, then walked stiffly toward the direction of the cash register. Her eyes were focused on the floor, her fingers squeezing her treats a bit too tight. There were two people in front of her; that same elderly man they had followed into the store and a tall teenager with thick dreadlocks hanging to the middle of his back. But then her gaze swept by them both to the young brown-skinned girl working the register.
Actually it wasn’t the young girl who drew Donatella’s attention. It was Maura, arms folded across her chest, sneaker-clad feet crossed at the ankles, looking down at the line of customers from her somewhat defiant stance as she stood on top of the counter next to the young girl who didn’t seem to notice anything unusual.
Maura winked.
“Told you I got this,” she said to her audience of one. No one else acted as if they heard or saw a thing.
“Next,” said the cashier, as the elderly gentleman stepped forward and placed two bottles of soda on the counter, right beside Maura’s feet, then asked for a pack of cigarettes. The cashier calmly reached behind her for a pack of Kools, asked if that would be all, then rang up the purchase and smiled.
“You have a good day, Mr. Brown.”
“You too, baby,” he said, then walked out the door.
When it came Donatella’s turn, she felt her heart starting to race. She paused for a moment, thinking maybe she should step out of line and take her breakfast buns back to the aisle and just leave the store before she got herself embarrassed or worse. What was Maura doing? Didn’t she say they were like sisters now?
“I sure did,” said Maura, her voice sounding…different. Like there was an echo to it.
And that’s when Donatella noticed two things that didn’t make sense; Maura had just answered something Donatella hadn’t even said, and the cashier looked like she was frozen in place. She also looked scared.
TUNE IN NEXT WEEK AS THE STORY OF ‘THE WITCH’ CONTINUES…