horrible thought occurred to Claudia. She interrupted, “I just don’t want to have to be naked when we chant. We don’t have to be naked, do we?”
“Oh, of course not.” Lindsay rolled her eyes again. “All right, all right. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, why don’t we just see if we agree to buy this book and start studying it and start collecting the things we’ll need for our magical toolboxes?”
“Toolboxes too?” Jill asked. “We need
tools
for this, too?” She looked around at the women in her living room, as if she were trying to find some support. She held her eyes on Gail.
“I guess we can’t keep using Christmas candles forever.” Gail looked up, as if she were writing a mental shopping list. “We’ll need incense and herbs, probably lemon and salt, too.”
“Listen to you,” Claudia said.
Gail shrugged. “It’s shopping. I get excited about shopping.”
“Let’s see a show of hands to see if everyone is agreed—that this is how we should proceed.” Lindsay had her hand up again. “Who thinks we should get this book and start learning more about it?”
All the women raised their hands, holding them up more confidently this time, not too high, just even with their heads. Lindsay’s was waving excitedly in place. Jill’s palm flopped up to face the ceiling.
Claudia tried to hold her hand steady, but she felt her palm buzzing with an inexplicable energy, like an electric cloud, like static that builds up in your body when you walk across a rug in winter, just waiting to give you a shock when you touch something.
Chapter Five
Claudia
moved the eraser over the Dry Erase board in her classroom in large sweeping motions.
What was so wrong with chalk-boards?
Oh yeah, dangerous dust. Good grief. At least chalk never ran dry. She hated these dumb markers. They took away a small part of why she wanted to be a teacher. The pleasant way chalk pressed onto the board, the dust that fell, the smooth, creamy way it erased. Claudia sighed, then began plotting the rest of her day while she finished erasing the board.
Classes were over and she had a lot to accomplish in the remainder of her afternoon. She needed to get to a bookstore. There was a Borders right around the corner from school, and earlier she’d thought about stopping there on her lunch hour to pick up Lindsay’s recommended
Sacredness of the Wiccan Way,
but she had been afraid she might run into some of her sophomore English students there. They hung out in its café, tossing back espresso drinks with not just the feigned sophistication of Claudia’s adolescence, but with actual worldliness. They possessed the real poise and confidence that accompanied a childhood of affluence.
It was hard at times not to be intimidated by them, as they, supposedly going through their most awkward stage, seemed to have it more together than Claudia did. She imagined being called over to their table and asked to show them her literary selection. And why shouldn’t she? She was their English teacher, after all. In the process she would stammer and stutter, break into a sweat, drop her purchase, and then one of the girls would reach down and pick her
witchcraft
book up off of the floor with perfectly manicured fingernails, showing it around the table for all to see. “Look, Ms. Dubois is reading
The Sacredness of the Wiccan Way.
”
No. It would definitely be better all around if she went out of her way and stopped at the Barnes & Noble on Clybourn on her way home.
So after school it would be the bookstore first, and if she could manage to get in and out of there in less than half an hour (something akin to a miracle), she could still make it home before rush hour and in time to run by the dry cleaner’s to pick up something to wear for tomorrow, her available wardrobe getting dangerously thin. And then she had a lot of papers to grade tonight. The students were getting antsy because she hadn’t finished their latest essay exam
“Oh, of course not.” Lindsay rolled her eyes again. “All right, all right. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, why don’t we just see if we agree to buy this book and start studying it and start collecting the things we’ll need for our magical toolboxes?”
“Toolboxes too?” Jill asked. “We need
tools
for this, too?” She looked around at the women in her living room, as if she were trying to find some support. She held her eyes on Gail.
“I guess we can’t keep using Christmas candles forever.” Gail looked up, as if she were writing a mental shopping list. “We’ll need incense and herbs, probably lemon and salt, too.”
“Listen to you,” Claudia said.
Gail shrugged. “It’s shopping. I get excited about shopping.”
“Let’s see a show of hands to see if everyone is agreed—that this is how we should proceed.” Lindsay had her hand up again. “Who thinks we should get this book and start learning more about it?”
All the women raised their hands, holding them up more confidently this time, not too high, just even with their heads. Lindsay’s was waving excitedly in place. Jill’s palm flopped up to face the ceiling.
Claudia tried to hold her hand steady, but she felt her palm buzzing with an inexplicable energy, like an electric cloud, like static that builds up in your body when you walk across a rug in winter, just waiting to give you a shock when you touch something.
Chapter Five
Claudia
moved the eraser over the Dry Erase board in her classroom in large sweeping motions.
What was so wrong with chalk-boards?
Oh yeah, dangerous dust. Good grief. At least chalk never ran dry. She hated these dumb markers. They took away a small part of why she wanted to be a teacher. The pleasant way chalk pressed onto the board, the dust that fell, the smooth, creamy way it erased. Claudia sighed, then began plotting the rest of her day while she finished erasing the board.
Classes were over and she had a lot to accomplish in the remainder of her afternoon. She needed to get to a bookstore. There was a Borders right around the corner from school, and earlier she’d thought about stopping there on her lunch hour to pick up Lindsay’s recommended
Sacredness of the Wiccan Way,
but she had been afraid she might run into some of her sophomore English students there. They hung out in its café, tossing back espresso drinks with not just the feigned sophistication of Claudia’s adolescence, but with actual worldliness. They possessed the real poise and confidence that accompanied a childhood of affluence.
It was hard at times not to be intimidated by them, as they, supposedly going through their most awkward stage, seemed to have it more together than Claudia did. She imagined being called over to their table and asked to show them her literary selection. And why shouldn’t she? She was their English teacher, after all. In the process she would stammer and stutter, break into a sweat, drop her purchase, and then one of the girls would reach down and pick her
witchcraft
book up off of the floor with perfectly manicured fingernails, showing it around the table for all to see. “Look, Ms. Dubois is reading
The Sacredness of the Wiccan Way.
”
No. It would definitely be better all around if she went out of her way and stopped at the Barnes & Noble on Clybourn on her way home.
So after school it would be the bookstore first, and if she could manage to get in and out of there in less than half an hour (something akin to a miracle), she could still make it home before rush hour and in time to run by the dry cleaner’s to pick up something to wear for tomorrow, her available wardrobe getting dangerously thin. And then she had a lot of papers to grade tonight. The students were getting antsy because she hadn’t finished their latest essay exam
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