Chapter Twenty-One: Goofer Dust Swing

I often worked in silence.

Some rootworkers listened to music that set the mood. Typically, songs with lyrics weren’t a good idea because they could ruin your focus.

But I was in a music mood. Some days were just like that. The sky was overcast and my apartment seemed unnaturally dark. I had all my goodies out to work with: fabric to sew up a doll-baby, some of Noelle’s personal effects to add to it, Spanish moss to fill it with...then I had a variety of oils, incense, and sachet powders. Finally, I had my mortar and pestle, along with the makings for Goofer Dust. Hadn’t made that in awhile, but I’d used my last batch on Devlin and Noelle’s break-up spell, and now that Saturday afternoon’s activities definitely called for some more.

So I put on the blues. It was definitely a blues-y day, and I sang along while I dragged the needle and thread through the fabric to make the doll-baby.

“‘You stole my man, you no good rat...’” Such a scarily appropriate song. I wasn’t sure what man I wanted to sing about now. I was a little glad that Toby didn’t stick around, ’cause saints knew the skank likely would have seduced him too. She was definitely evil. “‘Don’t you know you can’t get away with that...’”

I stuffed the doll-baby, then sewed several strands of Noelle’s hair into the head. I smiled at my work. All done.

The baptism was over quickly, and I was satisfied the doll was fully tied to Noelle. I actually had to get out my notes for baptising a doll—I hadn’t done it in a long time. Contrary to what Lilith and Liam likely thought of me, I didn’t spend all my time cursing people. Even someone like Billie, who clearly hated me and plotted my downfall, wasn’t worth it to go to the trouble of making a doll. I tried to hotfoot her out of town, sure, and that worked when we were teenagers, but then we ended up working down the road from one another as adults. Couldn’t get rid of her.

Noelle Jean, though, was under my skin. I hadn’t ever really met her. But...something was off about her. All one had to do was look at how these guys acted when she was around. Devlin got all weird and mean, Sebastian turned into a puppy following his master.

“‘Why, you should be dead, you no good rat,’” I sang. It was a rather upbeat song for being about plotting against some home wrecking tramp.

Just as I’d gathered the ingredients to make Goofer Dust, I heard a knock at my door.

I hated people disturbing me during a ritual. I used to have a sign on my door that said, “Do not disturb: Ritual in progress”, but then some stupid teen girl down the hall would always knock and ask me what kind of ritual. She was a “white witch” apparently. I asked if that meant she was a neo-pagan Wiccan, and she blinked a few times in confusion. Of course, I then sent her to Liam, because I knew she’d make him want to pull his hair out.

I put the doll-baby on my altar with the rest of my items and covered it all with a black cloth. No sense in letting guests see what I was up to, even if they wouldn’t be around too long.

Someone knocked again.

“I’m coming!” Saints, people were so goddamn impatient...

Even my thoughts ceased when I opened the door.

I stared at Devlin for several long moments, trying to process the sight of him in my—in our—hallway again. My hand slipped from the doorknob to hang uselessly at my side for a moment.

Words escaped me. That was a very rare occurrence for me.

And then Lil Johnson’s song in the background, about that “no good rat,” snapped me back to reality.

“So you’re here because she broke up with you?” I steeled my eyes to him and crossed my arms at my chest. “You know, she’d probably keep both of you around.”

“Don’t start.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Briar—”

“No, I’m not going to be your back up chick just because that skank dropped you—which, by the way, you shouldn’t be surprised about—”

“I’m here because I miss you.”

That silenced me.

“Can I come in?”

It felt weird that he was asking. I nodded and stepped back, then closed the door behind him.

“I...” He paced past me, raking his hands through his hair. “I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s been...non-stop for months. Every waking moment—hell, even the sleeping ones. It’s constant, Briar.”

Okay, so maybe all my intranquilling did work...

“And then I saw you last night...”

My memory was hazy, but it wasn’t that hazy. “And you said some shitty things.”

“What was I supposed to think?”

“Uh, that I was drunk and I was pouring my heart out to you?”

“We went home last night and...”

The word “home” and the implication it was with her had my blood on fire.

“...and we got in a huge fight...’cause I realized I was just hiding. I love you. I’ve only ever loved you.”

Saints, I’d wanted to hear these words for...ever, it seemed. Since the moment he walked out the door.

“I was just sick of all the fucking head games.” He slumped down on my couch.

I slowly followed and sank down next to him. “I should have told you to stay.”

“We needed the time apart anyway.” His hand slid over mine. Such a familiar gesture—he’d done it a million times before.

This was what I wanted. But...why didn’t it feel right?

“When I left—when I was walking down the stairs and out onto the street, I just kept picturing you following me. I thought...I thought I’d hear your voice, and turn around, and there you’d be.”

“You know I have way too much pride for that. Had, that is. Apparently I’m not above standing on stage singing and chasing you through a bar now.”

“I’m just glad that you missed me. I didn’t think you would.” Devlin squeezed my hand.

My brain inadvertently flashed to the night before. I don’t want you to be sad, Sebastian had said when he took my hand.

“I think we have a lot of talking to do,” Devlin continued, though I only half heard him. “But I think we can get this to work.” When I didn’t respond, he reached over and brushed some hair from my face. “Briar?”

I like you, he’d said, with noted emphasis on the word “I” as he moved the hair from my eyes, and I looked up at him from where my head rested on the tabletop.

“Briar?”

I looked over at Devlin. “I’m over you.”

“Uh...what?”

I felt tears in my eyes. They stung. Saints, I was sick of crying. “You broke my heart.”

“You broke mine.”

“I know. I know I wasn’t entirely there, all the time. I was a shitty girlfriend sometimes. Locked in my own little world. But this isn’t elementary school and ‘you hurt me first’ isn’t a good defence.” I leaned back on the couch and gazed up at the ceiling, thinking, processing, and realizing. “Maybe I should have gone after you when you left, but maybe you should have given me more than thirty seconds to absorb it. You said you were interested in someone else. Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

“I was just trying to be honest.”

“Well, so am I. That hurt. A lot. If you’d come back in a few days, maybe we could have been able to talk. But you didn’t. And for all these months, I just kept thinking that all I wanted was for you to come back. For things to be like they were. But they’re not going to be the same.”

“No, we need to start over—”

“I don’t think I want to. This is all I’ve been wishing for, praying for, for months now...but I just realized it’s not really what I want. I’m over you.”

He propped his elbows on his knees and his head sank into his hands. I felt a sting of regret, of pain for hurting him. I still loved him. And maybe it was wrong of me to use all those spells to bring him back, but I was starting to wonder if they made that much of a difference in the first place. This was Devlin. My Devlin. Of course he wasn’t really going to forget about four years just like that.

“I thought that you...” He looked up at him, eyes rimmed with red. “I thought you said, last night, that...”

“I did miss you. And it hurt more than anything ever has...and I had a choice. I never realized it before today, but I did choose something. I moved on.” With a deep breath, I rose and stepped towards the door. “You probably should get ‘home’ to Noelle.”

“I’m not going back to her.”

Right, that’s what they all say. “Then I hope you find someone who makes you happy. And preferably isn’t skanky.”

He stood as well, walked to me, and put his arms around me in an embrace. I hugged him back. It registered in my mind that it would be the last time I’d likely ever hold him, but I didn’t feel the sadness I expected I would.

“I’ll see you?” he whispered against me ear.

I smiled. “Hopefully not at any karaoke bars.”

I watched him leave my apartment for the last time, feeling strangely optimistic. It would be easy, familiar, to chase after him and fall into old patterns, but that wasn’t what I wanted.

I had made a choice, at some point, over the past few months, although I didn’t realize it at the time. I didn’t want any more drama and hot, angry make-up sex. He’d always judged the hoodoo—I didn’t want to be someone who looked down on me. If I did, I’d date Liam.

No, I wanted to be happy. I wanted Sebastian.

But I wouldn’t do any spells. No more goofering or intranquility stuff. No petitioning St. Martha.

I was just going to talk to him. I’d tell him how I felt. And if he didn’t want me, then fine. But no more moping and being fixated on the drama. I was a changed person.

But first...I really had to finish cursing that doll-baby of Noelle.