Red Magic

1

Book 1

Red stopped halfway down the stairs when she heard her mother chanting. Sighing, she let her feet fall heavy on the treads, hoping to interrupt her. Her shoulders drooped when she looked into the kitchen. It was worse than she thought: her mother sat on the kitchen floor, a rainbow of her larger crystals around her, with the smaller ones hanging from the window frames. Her brown hair was brushed into a halo of frizz floating from her head.

The sunshine reflected off the crystals making the kitchen look like a New Age disco party.

Walking into the kitchen when her mother was chanting always made Red feel like she was walking through molasses. With her eyes closed, and her mind lost to meditation, her mother didn’t even notice Red entering the room.

Red felt her own hair frizz out like it was trying to match her mother’s wacky hairstyle, and sighed again. She had spent an hour, and no small amount of product, trying to get it straight. So much for a good hair day.

Red’s usual breakfast sat on the table. Oatmeal decorated with blueberry eyes, a grape nose, and banana slices lined up in a smiling mouth. She dug into the mouth first. Bananas were her least favourite and that smiley face annoyed her. When she got to the blueberry eyes her mom finally looked up.

Good morning, Sunshine.

Hi, Mom. Red shovelled in the last bite of her oatmeal.

I’ve made some notes for your birthday party, her mom said, pulling a sheet of paper off the fridge and sitting down across from Red. I thought five girls for a sleepover, and we could get that dance game you like so much.

That game was popular when I was ten. Red scowled, but her mother was busy writing out a list of party games and didn’t respond.

Looking at her empty bowl, Red tried again. Mom, I don’t want a —

Her mother interrupted, Do you want your usual confetti cake?

Red rose from the table. Ya, fine. But, I don’t want a sleepover. She slammed her bowl into the dishwasher, chipping off a small piece.

A pyjama party then. Her mother said without looking up.

Red gritted her teeth. No pyjamas either. I was thinking a mixed party. With a couple guy friends.

Finally, her mother looked up from her list. I don’t think that would be appropriate, Red.

Why not? Red asked.

It just isn’t. The look on her mother’s face told Red not to bring up boys at her party again.

I saw some very cute charm bracelets the other day, her mother continued. They would be perfect for your loot bags.

Sixteen-year-olds do not need loot bags, Mom.

Nonsense. Everyone loves a loot bag.

The reflection of the sun on a green crystal in the window hit Red in the eye, making her flinch. I’ve gotta go.

Don’t forget your lunch, Bluebell, her mother said, still engrossed in planning a party Red didn’t want.

Throwing her lunch in her backpack, Red turned to leave. Her hand had just barely begun to reach for the doorknob when the door swung open toward her. With it, the oppressive feeling of the kitchen dissipated as the fresh morning air rushed in. She took a single step, but something stopped Red from leaving the house. Instead, she turned back to look at her mother.

The notes for Red’s party were abandoned, and Red’s mom stood and stared, wide-eyed. Red didn’t recognize the look on her mother’s face. She thought it might be fear.

The hinges are loose or something, Mom.

Still, her mother stared.

Mom! The door is broken.

Tears started to fall down her mom’s face. Red resisted rolling her eyes. Only her mother would get weepy over a broken door.

Before Red could say anything else, Gran stepped into the kitchen wearing a pale pink tailored pant suit with black piping and matching heels. Gran always looked like she had just stepped out of a Chanel ad, even at breakfast. Her grey hair was tinted pink and set in perfect curls. She looked at Red, still standing just outside the door, then at Red’s mother, who was now weeping. What has happened now, Erica?

Red answered, The door opened by itself. We need to tighten the hinges or something.

Is that what happened? I did feel something. Gran beamed at Red like a broken door was better than a straight A report card.

That snapped Red’s mom out of it. You didn’t feel anything. It’s the hinges.

When will you face the truth, Erica? Gran waved at the crystals. "Red was born with it,