Water Witch Read Online Free PDF Page A

predominately brown due to
drought. Back home, the air always smelled of dust and desert, but
here it was scented with pine, jasmine, and a hint of something
that smelled a little like bananas.
    A horn honked, and a gray Camry pulled up to
the curb in front of me. No sooner did it stop, than the trunk
popped open. An elderly woman peered out at me from the back
passenger window. She pressed her face against the glass and
smiled, lips curling in over toothless gums, heavy jowls jiggling.
She had brilliant green eyes that held the expression of a child
who’d just seen her first department store Santa—a little fear and
a whole lot of wonder.
    Someone tugged on the strap of the carry-on
bag I had slung over my right shoulder, and I glanced over to see
my sister standing beside me.
    “Hey you,” she said, and offered a faltering
smile. “Sorry if you had to wait long.”
    I stared at her, unable to respond. I’d last
seen Angelle about five months ago, when she and Trevor had flown
to Cyler to spend the Thanksgiving holidays with me. At that time,
her beautiful heart-shaped face still held the glow of a newlywed.
Now her cheeks were sunken, her complexion sallow. Dark circles
rimmed her light brown eyes. She wore a blue t-shirt and a pair of
jeans, both of which looked as if they’d come from the discard bin
at the Salvation Army.
    Before I managed to say anything, Angelle’s
eyes welled up with tears, and she threw her arms around me. “I’m
so glad you’re here,” she whispered against my ear.
    I returned her hug, holding her tight. She
was trembling, and she squeezed me back even tighter. Having a soft
spot for kids was one thing, but Angelle seemed traumatized, as if
those missing kids belonged to her. Something bigger had to be
going on. I was about to ask her if she was okay to drive, when
someone called out.
    “Hey!”
    Angelle and I turned towards the old woman
sitting in the Camry. She had lowered the back window to half-mast
and was waving a hand through the opening. “Dat damn door she’s
stuck, come get me out!”
    “You don’t need to get out, Poochie,” Angelle
said. “We’re coming right now.”
    “Mais den you bes’ hurry ‘cause I’m gonna
pass out in dis heat. Poo-yi, it’s hot!”
    “You’re not going to suffocate, Poochie. The
car’s still running, and the air-conditioner’s on.” Angelle grabbed
me by the arm and led me to the back of the car. She signaled for
me to put my bag in the trunk.
    As soon as she closed the trunk, the old
woman harrumphed loudly. “If dat air-condition is on, den de
summabitch is broke, cause I don’t feel me no air.”
    Angelle gave me an apologetic look.
“Poochie’s the reason I’m a little late. Normally she’s at the B
and B right now, but she kept insisting she had to come with me to
pick you up.” Before I could ask what a B and B was, Angelle tapped
a finger against her left temple, looking even more exhausted than
she did five minutes ago. “Poochie goes a little off from time to
time, and she never shuts up. So take that as a head’s up,
we may not get any talk time until I drop her off.”
    I gave her another quick hug and kissed her
cheek. “No need to apologize. We’ll talk when we can. I’m just glad
to see you.”
    “Me, too.” Angelle squeezed my arm, then gave
me a real smile, albeit small. “Come on, let’s get going before
Poochie decides to pitch a hissy fit.”
    “I heard dat,” Poochie yelled out the window
as we headed for opposite sides of the car. “What’s dat a hissy
fit?”
    “Nothing, Pooch,” Angelle said, opening her
door. “We’re leaving, so put your seatbelt back on.”
    As soon as I settled into the passenger’s
seat, Poochie scooted to the edge of the backseat and put a hand on
my shoulder.
    “What your name is?” she asked, giving me
another toothless grin, her green eyes flashing questions yet to be
asked. She looked to be in her mid-eighties, and although her
manner appeared brusque, it