Bone Dry_ A Soul Shamans Novel - Cady Vance Page 0,1
her mouth turning up into a wobbly smile. It was a dimmed version of the one she used to have, and I struggled to keep my face from showing how much it hurt me to see her like this.
“It was okay,” I said. “Got some groceries just now. The usual stuff. Ramen and potatoes.” I tried to sound lighthearted, like it was a running joke between us, but my voice came out flat.
“I am so sorry, Holly.”
Her eyes caught mine, and I could see the guilt hiding behind her smile. It wasn’t her fault though. She hadn’t done this to herself. And then those brilliant hazel eyes dimmed for a moment and lost focus on the real world—the world I was a part of, the world I wanted my mom to stay in. Permanently. Not in five minutes bursts scattered throughout the day. But I knew I had maybe a minute—tops—before she was gone again.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s not your fault. Besides, you know how much I love home fries.”
“How was school?” she asked again, reaching over to grip my hand. The knitting needles tumbled off her lap. Her face screwed up, wrinkles and shadows etching her skin. She used to be a mirror image of me: stick-straight brown hair that frizzed in humidity, tiny nose, big hazel eyes, pale pink skin that burned in the sun instead of tanned. When they’d still been together, Dad always called her cute. Said she looked the same as the day he met her at eighteen. But now, with the sagging skin under her chin and the lines curving around her mouth and eyes, she just looked withered.
I reached down to grab the knitting needles from the floor and when I returned them to her lap, she was back to gazing out the window. Face blank. No sign of my mom in those distant eyes. A tear slid down my cheek, and I brushed it aside.
“School was fine, Mom,” I said to her, because I knew she could hear me even if she wasn’t completely here. “Still not a lot of homework yet, but I have a quiz tomorrow. And everything else is fine.” I slumped lower in my chair. “Just fine.”
***
In my room, I took out the rest of the money I’d gotten from Kylie. A hundred of it went back into my pocket, but fifty went into the empty Chinese terra cotta jar Mom had gotten for me the time she’d battled a spirit wreaking havoc in the Hong Kong Stock Exchange.
The bills on my dresser blinked at me in neon lights that read, Pay me! Thumbing through the envelopes, I hunted for this week’s lucky recipient of payment. Electricity or mortgage? I didn’t have enough to cover both. But electricity was already late, and things would definitely suck worse without power. So, I grabbed the bill, opened my old laptop and logged onto Online Bill Pay.
After I’d emptied Mom’s checking account, I shuffled over to my bed and fell face-down on the twin mattress. A real job would help—a lot. But I didn’t feel right about leaving my mom home alone any more than I already did.
Of course, if I could just fix her, we wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again.
Sure, we’d never been rich, but we’d gotten by no problem. Bills were paid on time, mini-vacations were taken, and trips to the mall were on the agenda every year before the start of school. And now I felt like our poverty was my fault for begging for the latest issue of Invincible every month. I hadn’t totally understood how much all those books and clothes had cost.
Not until a shaman had attacked my mother and stuck her mind in the spirit world so she couldn’t even feed herself.
Pushing myself off the bed, I tried to remember what Mom had been like before she’d been attacked. I hated that when I thought of her now, the first things I pictured were her trembling hands. The way her legs shook during the rare times she stood. It was only a year ago that she’d been running six miles five days a week and jetting off to Paris, Egypt or Buenos Aires when someone needed a “Spirit Consultation.” She’d been pretty famous in her line of work. Powerful, strong. She’d once taken on five spirits by herself. And won.
I dropped to my knees and pulled out the old wooden trunk I kept stored under my bed. I