Veronika Grossman
Escort For The Witch

Chapter 4

Interrogation

Through her passenger window Sabrina quietly watched the rain turn into a downpour. She sat motionless, occasionally and stealthily glancing in my direction, which was beginning to get on my nerves. I knew I was to have a conversation with Eric, and I wasn’t particularly fond of the mind games.

“What mischief has he gotten into this time?” I asked.

“What?” She gave me a distracted look and shivered.

“What did he do this time – blew up a house? Forgot to turn on the lights coming back from another binge drinking session? And stop daydreaming, it annoys me.”

Sabrina looked at me strangely but left my last remark uncommented.

“No,” she began quietly. “You won’t believe it, but he was almost sober.”

Was I hallucinating? Sober? Eric was almost sober?! So, that was the reason for the sudden change in the weather. It was Eric’s almost sober state, not a fiery greeting from my father.

“Probably ran out of money,” I guessed. “Let me guess, you took advantage of the situation and decided to have a little chat?”

“You know perfectly well I’m a lousy mentor,” Sabrina parried my question and stared out the window again.

“Well, what’s the matter then?” I persisted. I was genuinely curious about what might have happened to bring about such colossal changes in Eric and his sister.

“Some Mr. Murphy called him,” Sabrina said casually and glanced at me intently, apparently awaiting some extraordinary reaction.

Paradoxically, her expectations were fully met. I gripped the steering wheel and clenched my teeth to stop a string of curses ready to come out of my mouth. Great.

Now the picture was becoming clearer. Mr. Murphy – one of Grandpa’s old friends and, by the way, the man who had made sure that all reports about the De Manshand witches, and witches in general, ended up directly in his hands.

“And…?” I tried to sound as casual as possible, vaguely imagining what Eric might have said, or rather, shouted at Mr. Murphy.

“Eric looked at me in horror, and when he hung up, he grabbed his head so hard I was afraid he would pull out his hair. Then he sat down on the floor and stopped showing signs of life.”

The girl fell silent, took a deep breath, and returned to look out the window. I rummaged in my pocket for cigarettes, lit one, and tried to steady my nerves. What if Eric had let something slip in a moment of folly? That could explain Sabrina’s change in behavior and…

“You smoke too much, ” Sabrina said out of the blue.

“What?” the tone of her voice made me stop mulling over Eric and look at her.

“I said you smoke too much. It’s harmful. Not that I’m against cigarettes, it’s just that one day it might end badly.”

“Oh, come on, Sabi! Since when do you care about my health?” I interrupted irritably.

“I don’t wish death upon anyone, even such a sweetheart as you,” Sabrina smiled venomously and deliberately turned away from me. Judging by the tension in the air after her words, she was doing her best to hold back and refrain from saying any more venomous “compliments” to me. And to avoid saying something I myself might regret later, I tried to focus on the upcoming conversation with her wayward brother.

Well, isn’t that something! Sabrina just said I smoke too much! Considering that truth might come out at any moment, if it hasn’t already, I should start smoking three, or even four cigarettes at once and as often as possible. And Eric…

“So, what happened next?” I thought that our little chat about my health had distracted us from the problem at hand, and tried to steer the conversation back to find out some details.

“Oh, there was something else,” Sabrina smirked crookedly. “He started yelling something about what an idiot he was, then he began pacing the house, walking from room to room, kicking everything in his path. And finally, he locked himself in his bedroom,” suddenly the girl fell silent and held her breath. I, on the other hand, froze in anticipation of what would come next.

“And then he started making a racket in his room. I mean, judging by the sounds, Eric was just crashing everything he could get his hands on. Then he growled something like ‘thanks, Grandpa,’ slammed the door, and left. I peeked into his room and was horrified. I’ve never seen such a mess in my life. My little brother managed to smash and break everything in sight! He returned in the early hours, completely drunk, barely able to walk. I went out to help him get to bed, and then Eric raised his head and looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time.

And then he said a strange phrase that I can’t get out of my head,” the girl slowly turned to look at me, giving me an unpleasant feeling as if a grenade had been waved in front of me, threatening to explode at any moment.

My heart sank, and I swear I heard it land right there. Well, that’s it! She's going to pounce on me and tear me to shreds, slowly and painfully, drenching the interior of my beloved car with blood.

“And what did he say?” I even tried to feign confusion. It didn’t come out very well, but it seemed Sabrina didn’t notice.

“He’s right. Jack would have done better than me”.

I nearly choked but managed to regain composure and refrain from blurting out something I would certainly regret later.

“You didn’t mention what it was that Jack would handle better?” I said, trying to suppress my excitement and gripping the steering wheel even tighter.

“No, but he added the word ‘definitely,’” Sabrina said timidly and cast a curious glance at me.

Well, now Eric will definitely get it. How drunk do you have to be to say something like that to your sister, and while looking her straight in the eyes? I glanced at Sabrina. She was contemplating the passing scenery outside the window, paying me no attention whatsoever.

“And what does that mean?” she asked without turning around.

“I have no idea.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Why would I lie?”

“He said you know the truth,” the girl turned to stare at me angrily.

“What truth?"

“Jack, could you just answer my question?”

“Sabi, this interrogation won’t lead to anything. I have no idea what nonsense your drunken brother was spouting.”

“What do you know? What truth is he talking about?” the girl persisted with her questioning.

What are you going to do? Did I really sin so much in my past life? Why am I being punished like this? Damn this girl!

“Don’t look at me like that, you’ll get a burn,” the girl turned to stare out the window again.

“So, the truth,” I muttered thoughtfully, “Alright. Let’s just try to avoid throwing scenes, okay? The truth, well, the truth is that Eric and I flushed Flippy down the toilet.”

‘Oh, that’s something I shouldn’t have said ’, I thought, feeling Sabrina’s eyes widen in horror. She positively didn’t expect anything of the sort.

“Yes, we did it,” I couldn’t stop myself. It was all too funny giving her the details of the “unfortunate incident”. That had taken place in our childhood. “But don’t get mad, alright? I’m still driving. We didn’t realize what we were doing, we were seven years old, and saving the life of a goldfish seemed like a matter of honor back then. After some brief deliberation, we decided that at the end of the day, all sewage pipes must lead out into the ocean; sooner or later Flippy would be home. Yes, we were wrong. Who hasn’t made mistakes? What can I do about it now?” It was done, and we dreaded Sabrina finding out.

Then Grandpa came to our rescue and said he had released the fish into the river because the fish tank had been to small a home for it. Sabrina believed Grandpa and, after a while, stopped mourning and scolding us. Poor Flippy was forgotten.

And as a thank you to grandpa, Eric and I had behaved like the most diligent and obedient kids in the world for two whole days.

“Hey!” I exclaimed as Sabrina gave me a hefty slap on the back of my head.

“God, why are you so furious?!”

Seemingly offended by my words and the “truth” she had heard, she turned away with a look of indignation on her beautiful face, a righteous woman in grief.

I parked the car in front of old Venters’ house, cursing silently and vividly imagining how I would be giving Eric a proper walloping.

“Jack, I won’t just let this go,” Sabrina persisted.

“And what will you do? Torture me?” I asked angrily, as this conversation was really getting on my nerves now.

“That’s an idea,” Sabrina squinted. “They say sticking sharpened bamboo sticks under the fingernails is a very painful process,” she hissed, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut.

I rolled my eyes and buried my nose in the steering wheel. What am I going to do about her? She won’t just let it go, that’s a fact. No use denying it. Pulling up by the house, I feverishly recalled all the mischiefs Eric and I had done in hopes of bringing Sabrina to tears. All that mischief went straight to her heart. Poor Flippy came to my mind again. Damn it, Eric. I’ll kill him and not regret it, damn it!

I got out of the car and trudged towards the entrance door, feeling Sabrina’s gaze burning a huge hole in my back a few feet behind. Slowly, trying my best to keep myself in check, I turned to her and waved my hand in a stopping gesture. She was not to go in.

“What’s up?” I noticed her looks have significantly improved since this morning.

Miracles do happen, don’t they?

“I just wanted to say this is my favorite coat, so maybe you’ll switch your anger for mercy and stop staring at me so intensely with your loving eyes? You’ll burn a hole in my coat.” I tried to be charming and even made a charming grimace.

“Maybe I’ll treat you to something inside? Coffee? Poison? Rope?” Sabrina murmured.

“I wouldn’t…”

“Eric’s in his room,” she snapped and pushed past me into the house.

“I guess I shouldn’t count on coffee then?”

“And were you?” Sabrina raised her eyebrows in surprise before disappearing behind the door leading to her bedroom.

Well, it seems Sabrina may have been won over. Now it’s time to deal with Eric.

Chapter 5

Compromise

I stopped by the door, proudly bearing an old road sign “Stop”. Behind it, loud snoring could be heard, occasionally interrupted by agonizing groans. Well, at least he got some sleep. I hesitantly grabbed the handle and took a step into the unknown…The room was dimly lit. I looked around and grimaced. The curtains were drawn, the windows securely locked, preventing any fresh air from entering the room. There was little evidence of the madness Eric had wrought the previous night. Apparently, Sabrina had made an effort to tidy up. I noticed there was a photograph missing on the desk, the one with old man Alex, Eric, and myself. On closer inspection I noticed that the computer monitor was half shattered, and there was practically nothing left of the keyboard.

Eric lay sprawled across the bed, arms spread wide, snoring loudly. His half-naked, long, thin body tossed from side to side intermittently. Now and again he would grab his head, occasionally interrupting the snoring with a prolonged groan.

The scene made me boil on the inside, and I was hoping he was having nightmares at the very least.

“Eric,” I called out. Silence followed. Eric rolled over to one side and sighed loudly. I cursed under my breath and tried again.

“Eric!” Again, silence. Well, at least he stopped snoring.

I counted to ten, then leaned over and pulled Eric’s hair.

“What the hell?” came a muffled voice somewhere from the depths of the pillow.

“Sabi, is that you?” Eric asked, not even attempting to lift his head.

“No, not Sabi,” I snapped and froze, waiting for some response. For a couple of minutes, Eric showed no signs of life at all and remained completely motionless, trying to understand who had disturbed his sleep.

“Who?” he mumbled in astonishment.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. The anger that I had carefully contained within me finally burst out. I could most hear the deafening tolling of bells inside my

head. A little more and I would have lunged at Eric with my fists, just to remind him of my existence.

“Damn it! Eric! You don’t even recognize my voice anymore?! Come on, get yourself up and try to remember my name!”

Eric stiffened and slowly lifted his head. There was so much astonishment in his large blue eyes that I involuntarily wondered if my friend was suffering from a split personality disorder. Although, most likely, it was just an effect of prolonged drinking. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes. Clearly, he couldn’t remember who I was. And the sight Eric presented was hardly aesthetically pleasing: dark, thick, overgrown hair sticking out in different directions, a foggy gaze, a split lip, and, apparently, his nose had recently been quite badly bruised. “Goblin-like”

didn’t even begin to cover the shaggy monster standing before me.

“What are you doing here?” Eric whispered hoarsely.

“What am I doing here? You’re asking WHAT I’m doing here? I want to know why the hell you told your sister all that nonsense yesterday?!” I yelled, pacing back and forth.

“Oh…” was all the drunk youngster squeeze out and stared at me expectantly.

“Eric, I didn’t think you were such an idiot and… your lip is split!”

“Back off, Jack,” Eric mumbled and flopped back onto the bed. “But since you’re here, bring me some water.”

Instead of heading straight to the kitchen to help my friend with his hangover, I grabbed his hair again and turned his face towards me. Eric’s eyes showed confusion and bewilderment.

“Jack! Are you out of your mind? That hurts!,” he freed his hair from my grip and, fully back to his senses now, sat up on the bed.

“What do you want?”

“Grab your butt and take it to the bathroom. You have exactly twenty minutes to sober up,” I muttered through gritted teeth and walked to the window to open it.

My head spun slightly when a gust of cool air rushed into the room, dispelling the alcoholic stench that had permeated the walls for days.

Eric glared at me but, without a word, got up and shuffled to the bathroom, barely moving his legs. I watched his slouched figure and shook my head disapprovingly. Since our last meeting, the guy had noticeably deteriorated and now resembled a walking fishing hook. It’s incredible, I saw him not long ago, and I could swear he wasn’t that skinny. And just a few months ago, we went to the gym together to avoid resembling Mr. Cornell Senior’s anti-athletic figure… I thought and glanced at the wall where the old digital clock had always been. It wasn’t there anymore. Apparently, Eric got to it too and smashed it. Cursing quietly, I opened the window wider and left the room to go to the kitchen to find some aspirin for my unfortunate friend. In the kitchen, I accidentally glanced at an old alarm clock standing on the table. The hands on the scratched dial showed eleven-thirty, and there was no hint of the sun outside. What happened to the weather? A quiet, prolonged groan behind me interrupted my thoughts. I turned around quickly. It was Sabrina, and she looked unwell…

“Oh my,” she whispered, pressing her hand to her stomach.

Without thinking about the possible consequences, I rushed to her and grabbed her hand just above the elbow. She was burning with fever, sweat beads forming on her forehead. I reached for the phone hanging on the wall and was about to dial 911 when Sabrina pulled the receiver out of my grip.

“Where are you going to call?” she whispered anxiously.

“What a stupid question? You need a doctor,” I replied decisively, feeling Sabrina release my hand and forcing a feeble smile.

“No, Jack! What are you thinking? I’m fine. Probably just something I ate.

Really, everything's fine,” she said soothingly and hung up the phone.

Perhaps she felt a little better, but the wild glint in her eyes didn’t disappear. She looked away, and seemed paler to me. I followed her gaze but didn’t notice anything unusual. Everything was the same: the kitchen furniture in its place, the same old alarm clock that hadn’t been moved for years. Nothing that could terrify a person. Suddenly, Sabrina groaned again and once more brought her hand to her stomach.

“Jack, this is the first and last time I ask you to help me… get me a chair and…

and bring water, please,” she muttered. Trying not to curse, I carefully lifted her, carried to the living room. There I laid her on the couch.

“Wait a second,” I muttered and left to fetch some water. Once again, I scanned the kitchen but didn’t see anything that could have frightened her. I had no choice

but to return to the living room. Sabrina took a few sips from the glass and brushed the damp hair from her forehead.

“Some virus,” she murmured, tilting her head back and taking a few deep breaths.

“Yeah, a virus. Should I call a doctor or take you to the hospital?”

“Or maybe we should have lunch?” She smiled. And there was something in that smile that made my heart sink again.

“How did you wake up Eric?” Sabrina asked curiously, nodding towards the bathroom.

“You gotta have skills,” I replied, not without an air of mischief.

There was a deafening crash followed by a string of curses, coming from the depths of the house. Then the slam of the door, and finally, a loud yawn. Eric entered the living room almost steadily.

He looked much better, but still disheveled and clearly unaware of what was happening around him. I noticed a shallow cut on his left cheek. Naturally, Eric noticed it too.

“I shaved,” he grumbled, poking the cheek with a cotton swab.

“Clearly,” Sabrina retorted sharply, catching her brother’s attention.

Noticing Sabrina, Eric immediately rushed to her and sat down on the floor next her.

“Are you feeling bad again, Sabi?” he asked anxiously, breathing alcohol fumes into her face.

“You’ll definitely make me feel bad now!” Sabrina grimaced, lightly punched Eric’s shoulder, got up and left the room. Watching her leave, I turned back to the squatting figure on the floor, the hunched-over guy who clearly didn't want to continue the conversation started in his room.

“I think we have something to discuss,” I said softly, breaking the awkward pause.

Eric shot me an angry glance, then laboriously got up and, dramatically, trudged back to his alcohol-soaked den.

“Have you eaten, who called me yesterday?” he spoke first, ushering me into his room.

“Murphy”, I replied instantly, settling into the old, weathered armchair.

Eric only looked at me quizzingly.

“He said I hadn’t handled the job well, and grandpa would be very ashamed of me,” he lowered his head and sighed heavily. “He said you would have done much better than me.”

“I know, Sabrina already told me,” I declared, getting up from the chair. I walked to the window with a shuffling gait, and lit a cigarette.

Suddenly, Eric raised his head in horror, his eyes widening as he stared at me, clearly now beginning to recall the details of yesterday’s conversation with his sister.

“Damn! I didn’t…”

“No,” I interrupted, “but you have said enough to make her come to me for clarification. For which I want, at the very least, to knock you out.”

“Oh… bad times,” my sobering friend muttered guiltily, staring at me, awaiting my angry response.

“Yes, and I had to tell her about Flippy’s murder.”

“Oh! That's some shit… She definitely didn’t need to know that! But… Okay, what now?”

“I met with Mom today. They decided that now I’ll be doing ‘surveillance.’ ”

Eric glanced sidelong at me and chuckled loudly. Then he flopped heavily onto the bed and covered his face with his palms.

“I let everyone down,” he moaned after a moment.

“Not everyone. At least, not yet. Stop boozing. The sooner, the better. Otherwise, you'll lose not only your job but also your family. Sabrina is desperate. You've driven her to it,” I said, closely observing Eric's changing expression.

“I noticed she’s been acting strangely lately. But I don’t think it’s because of me.

She often looks somewhere, as if at someone… And I also feel that we’re not alone here,” he fell silent.

A hangover is not the best time for a serious conversation. And I genuinely pitied him. Deep down. Somewhere very deep. At the very bottom. Although, what am I talking about? My soul is bottomless…

“Eric, let’s try to find a compromise? We both know I won’t be able to keep an eye on her outside of university.”

Eric nodded in agreement and lazily scratched his scalp.

“So, here’s the deal: I’ll ask to have you appointed as my assistant, but on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Eric looked at me hopefully.

“You quit drinking and keep your mouth shut tight.”

“Agreed,” my friend replied without hesitation.

“What else does Sabrina know besides the fact that we’re hiding ‘something ’?”

A stifling silence filled the room.

“Nothing,” Eric said uncertainly.

“Well, I hope we’ll find out soon. The sooner, the better.”

There was a soft knock on the door.

“What!” Eric croaked.

“Are you two coming for lunch or not?” Sabrina asked, entering the room.

“Eavesdropping is very, very, very naughty, miss,” Eric said slowly and cautiously.

“Coming home drunk in the wee hours isn’t very nice either! And I wasn’t eavesdropping. I don’t have that habit. Go eat,” Sabrina turned around haughtily and slammed the door shut, causing Eric to clutch his head.