Tears and Rain

/ Liz H-H

© Ayr/Gray

First step? Draw the chalk outline.

Berta sat back on her heels, trying to remember the next step from Baba’s grimoire. She was sure she’d gotten all the right ingredients: white chalk, pint jar of honey, ten pound sack of dirt from Janeesa’s grave. There were words she needed to say, herbs to sprinkle as she said them.   
She felt the back pocket of her cut-offs for the rustle of her notes on the Return Spell. Baba would notice the scent her arm had left on the grimoire as she’d struggled to hold it open; she’d come looking for her. The book had kept trying to snap shut. It didn’t like Berta reading it.

Berta was determined.

They’d knocked Janeesa down, stolen her phone, and when the teen tried to rise and run, they’d slammed her head into the pavement. Berta had invoked the Invisibility Charm, but hadn’t known how to extend it beyond her own body.

Night fell. Spreading honey within the outline, Berta sprinkled it with the dirt and her own tears. Her personal offering? Berta’s own phone, laid over the figure’s right hand. All that remained were the right words. Berta slid the paper from her back pocket.

“Come away, girl,” Baba’s voice was gentle as she took it from her shaking hands. “Let this be a spell of release, not holding on. And pick up that phone. You don’t want her calling from where she’s going.” Baba waved her hand and murmured.

Cleansing rains drummed farewell.    

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2024)

From Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr’s photo prompt, The Unicorn Challenge (03/01/2024). No more than 250 words in length.

20 thoughts on “Tears and Rain”

  1. This was so sad but also kind of not. I liked the grimoire that didn’t want to be read but wasn’t a match for Berta’s determination. And also that Baba wasn’t evil as I had been thinking. What do you think happened to Janeesa?

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    • Maybe just murdered, confused, and hanging around a little angry? Time for her to move along, as Berta’s in the best hands…? Spitballin’ here…

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  6. I kove this.
    It’s sad too, but then maybe we all need to learn a spell for letting go when the time comes.
    And for accepting we did our best, even if it wasn’t good enough.
    What a magical story, Liz.

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