top. Inside, the shelves were crammed with old jars and discolored plastic containers, each one filled with things that even from across the room I could see looked like nothing you’d ever want to be putting inside you in a million years. It made the idea of chemo look like a grammar school picnic.
She took down about ten of the jars and opened each one. Once, she put back one jar and selected another. She crossed to a chair and dug around until she came up with an old plastic bag, the kind store bread comes in, and started filling it with stuff from the jars.
Eye of newt
, said this scratchy voice inside my head from this play in our English class text, and I had to bite my cheeks to hold back from laughing, the nervous kind of laughing I’d do when we still went to the Methodist Church and Mrs. Duval sang in that thin old crackly voice of hers. I used to get to giggling so that my mama’d have to squeeze my hand to make me stop.
“Here,” she said, holding out the bag.
I didn’t take it right away.
“For your mama,” she said.
“What is it?”
“This here be the Queen of Cures.”
“What’s that?”
“The Queen of Cures. That’s all you be needing to know.” Then she told me to dump the stuff in the bag into a big pot and stir in five cups of water. Boil it up good, she instructed, and after ten minutes, strain it off. Then I was supposed to boil it again with another five cups of water. “This time you be putting a lid on it and letting it cook for two hours,” she said. Then she told me to strain it again and put the two batches of liquid together. She made me repeat her directions twice.
Eye of
newt
, sang the crazy voice inside my head.
“You be givin’ your mama a full cup,” she said. “Every night. Right before she be goin’ to sleep.”
Believe me, I didn’t even want to
touch
that bag, but I grabbed it and got out of there. I was so glad to escape, I didn’t even say thanks. I ran all the way to where the twins were waiting.
We rode like the devil himself was at our back. I gripped the plastic bag against the handlebar, and it swung back and forth madly like some creature inside was trying to break free.
We got so out of breath, we had to stop after we’d gone no more than a mile.
“What was she like?” Will asked.
“A witch,” I said. “And tall. And she knew who I was. And you, too. She knew who you were. She said twins have
powers.
”
“Jesus Sweet Christ,” Wiley said.
I knew exactly what he meant.
Will was looking at the plastic bag. “What the hell is that?”
“Stuff I’m supposed to cook up and give to my mama.”
“I don’t know about that,” Wiley said.
“She said it’s the Queen of Cures,” I said.
“Jeez,” Will said. “That sounds like a curse.” He made his voice all spooky and thin like the Wicked Witch in
The Wizard of
Oz
. “The Queen of Cures, my pretty.”
“It’s probably poison,” Wiley said.
Well, poison was what Mama said they gave you to get rid of cancer. Maybe one poison was as good as another, though I hoped it wouldn’t make her hair fall out. I couldn’t picture Mama without her black hair curling round her face.
When I got home, Mama was sleeping, so I got right down to boiling up the cure, emptying the bag into the stew pot she used for making soup, measuring out the water, precisely as Allie Rucker had instructed. Mostly the stuff looked like dried grasses and some chunks that resembled wood or mushrooms, but I didn’t look too close. If there was something in there that had ever swum, walked, or flown, I didn’t want to know.
The stuff hadn’t even come to a full boil when it started to smell. A sour stink that clouded the kitchen.
Eye of newt
. I shut the door before it could escape to the rest of the house and opened the back door and the windows. It smelled like something that would do a lot worse than make a person’s hair fall out. It smelled evil. I grabbed the pot holders I’d made Mama when I
She took down about ten of the jars and opened each one. Once, she put back one jar and selected another. She crossed to a chair and dug around until she came up with an old plastic bag, the kind store bread comes in, and started filling it with stuff from the jars.
Eye of newt
, said this scratchy voice inside my head from this play in our English class text, and I had to bite my cheeks to hold back from laughing, the nervous kind of laughing I’d do when we still went to the Methodist Church and Mrs. Duval sang in that thin old crackly voice of hers. I used to get to giggling so that my mama’d have to squeeze my hand to make me stop.
“Here,” she said, holding out the bag.
I didn’t take it right away.
“For your mama,” she said.
“What is it?”
“This here be the Queen of Cures.”
“What’s that?”
“The Queen of Cures. That’s all you be needing to know.” Then she told me to dump the stuff in the bag into a big pot and stir in five cups of water. Boil it up good, she instructed, and after ten minutes, strain it off. Then I was supposed to boil it again with another five cups of water. “This time you be putting a lid on it and letting it cook for two hours,” she said. Then she told me to strain it again and put the two batches of liquid together. She made me repeat her directions twice.
Eye of
newt
, sang the crazy voice inside my head.
“You be givin’ your mama a full cup,” she said. “Every night. Right before she be goin’ to sleep.”
Believe me, I didn’t even want to
touch
that bag, but I grabbed it and got out of there. I was so glad to escape, I didn’t even say thanks. I ran all the way to where the twins were waiting.
We rode like the devil himself was at our back. I gripped the plastic bag against the handlebar, and it swung back and forth madly like some creature inside was trying to break free.
We got so out of breath, we had to stop after we’d gone no more than a mile.
“What was she like?” Will asked.
“A witch,” I said. “And tall. And she knew who I was. And you, too. She knew who you were. She said twins have
powers.
”
“Jesus Sweet Christ,” Wiley said.
I knew exactly what he meant.
Will was looking at the plastic bag. “What the hell is that?”
“Stuff I’m supposed to cook up and give to my mama.”
“I don’t know about that,” Wiley said.
“She said it’s the Queen of Cures,” I said.
“Jeez,” Will said. “That sounds like a curse.” He made his voice all spooky and thin like the Wicked Witch in
The Wizard of
Oz
. “The Queen of Cures, my pretty.”
“It’s probably poison,” Wiley said.
Well, poison was what Mama said they gave you to get rid of cancer. Maybe one poison was as good as another, though I hoped it wouldn’t make her hair fall out. I couldn’t picture Mama without her black hair curling round her face.
When I got home, Mama was sleeping, so I got right down to boiling up the cure, emptying the bag into the stew pot she used for making soup, measuring out the water, precisely as Allie Rucker had instructed. Mostly the stuff looked like dried grasses and some chunks that resembled wood or mushrooms, but I didn’t look too close. If there was something in there that had ever swum, walked, or flown, I didn’t want to know.
The stuff hadn’t even come to a full boil when it started to smell. A sour stink that clouded the kitchen.
Eye of newt
. I shut the door before it could escape to the rest of the house and opened the back door and the windows. It smelled like something that would do a lot worse than make a person’s hair fall out. It smelled evil. I grabbed the pot holders I’d made Mama when I
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