Crash! A shower of little boxes, bits of jewelry, and other small antiques fell on Donna’s head like glittering rain.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I wanted to reach the shelf, and my cellphone slipped, and I tried to catch it – I just can’t do anything right!”

Donna’s mother came from the other side of the antique shop. She looked at Donna with resigned disapproval.

“Nonsense, the place is a dusty mess anyway,” said old Mr. Rose, the owner. “Here, Donna, take this little box for your collection. It can’t be opened, but it’s pretty, isn’t it?”

The box shone like a rough, dark ruby under the store’s dim light, its red surface deeply carved with tiny animal figures. It must be ancient, Donna thought, speechless with admiration. Some of the carvings are a little worn and glossy. Many hands had rubbed it through the centuries… how mysterious… a treasure inside, quite possibly…

“Really, Mr. Rose, you shouldn’t reward her for being clumsy,” said Mom. “The box must be quite expensive.” Donna felt a burning sensation behind her eyes. I will not cry, she thought. I am too old to cry. But I feel so humiliated.

“I can’t sell it if it doesn’t open, can I? I have had it for a long time, and these animals are beginning to annoy me!” said the old man, winking at Donna. “Anyway, Ms. Williams, leave the child alone. It was just an accident.”

“There may be something expensive inside,” said Donna reluctantly. “If I find it, I will return it, of course.”

“Finder’s keeper’s,” said the old man. “Whatever’s inside is yours, too. The box is made of Cinnabar. It’s an ancient art they still use in China, layering the substance on a base and then carving it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Rose! It’s so beautiful. I’ll try not to break anything next time Mom brings me here,” said Donna.

“Speaking of breaking things, let me look at the cellphone,” said Mr. Rose. “Ah, the glass is cracked. I’ll just step into my workshop for a minute and be right back.”

Mom’s silence was not encouraging, and Donna moved around the store as they waited for Mr. Rose to return.

“All fixed,” he said cheerfully, handing Donna the phone.

“Thank you, Mr. Rose,” said Mom. “What do I owe you?”

Mr. Rose laughed. “Nothing, my dear. You have just spent a fortune on so many things, and that little repair took me a few moments.”

“I think you’re getting too old to tag along when I visit shops for my clients,” said Mom icily as they went to the car. “I hope you’ll learn to behave more maturely at the Hamptons summer program.”

Donna sighed. The awful summer program again. These dreadful girls, slim and pretty and so grown up, like those in the obnoxious private school she attended all year. As she entered the car, she could no longer fight the urge to cry and secretly wiped a tear. However, nothing escaped Mom.

“I’ll never understand why you can’t appreciate the advantages you are getting,” said Mom. “What I wouldn’t have given for this program when I was your age.”

“But you were pretty and could play sports, and –”

“You could be pretty if you exercised and cared for your hair,” interrupted Mom, “and the junk food you love doesn’t help your figure or complexion.”

“All the exercise in the world is not going to change the fact that I don’t have any figure,” said Donna, a sense of rage starting to take over. “You know very well that kids like me are called ‘late bloomers,’ and I look two years younger than my classmates.”

“All the more reason you should have allowed me to take you to be fitted with a bra before I got your new clothes.”

            The rage was mounting to the point of explosion. “And what would I be putting in the bra?” Donna asked icily.

 “The word ‘figure’ does not necessarily mean you should have curves,” said Mom. “A smaller bust line is actually elegant. But you need to change your attitude to clothes; you could put a touch of lipstick on. And you must change your attitude to growing up. At age fifteen, I was a young woman. You are a kid, and it does not help you blend in with the other teens.”

 Donna was openly crying now. She could not answer.

“Anyway, I have no choice,” Mom added. “I’m attending the Italian Design Show, and Dad is staying in Europe for the summer as usual. I can’t leave you with the housekeeper; what if she decides to leave? They always leave on a whim. What do you expect me to do with you?”

Donna blinked her eyes fiercely. “Maybe I could stay with Grandma in Florida?”

“Grandma is not up to such extended visits anymore, and you know it.”

“I wish Aunt Yolanda were back,” said Donna sadly. “Oh, how I wish she were back. I’m sure she would have wanted me.”

Mom turned and looked at her. Her enormous blue eyes flashed with anger. “Aunt Yolanda can’t break an expedition to the Rain Forest in South America just to look after a selfish fifteen-year-old who should know better.”

“I know she can’t. But if Aunt Yolanda were here, she would have wanted me to stay with her. We have such a good time when I do, really.”

Mom didn’t answer. The silence almost crushed Donna. She clutched the Cinnabar box and gazed at the manicured lawns and well-groomed trees in the gardens surrounding the big houses. She suddenly realized that all the gardens were planted with exactly the same trees and flowers.

Arriving home, she went upstairs to her room, dusted the little box gently with a tissue, and placed it on the nightstand. The tiny carvings of camels, donkeys, lizards, and other unusual animals inhabited a miniature world full of twisting vines. Perhaps the box would open if a prince touched it after a beautiful princess released him from enchantment. They will find their wedding bands inside the box, hidden there for at least two thousand years by an evil wizard from another planet… “Stop!” Donna said loudly and firmly to herself. “These stupid daydreams get you in trouble again and again. Princesses and wizards! Grow up!”

She turned on the T.V., kicked off her sneakers, and sat on the bed for a long time, clicking channels and staring at the screen without paying attention. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, shattering the silence. There were quick footsteps and a cheerful, familiar voice, and Donna simply did not believe her ears for a moment. It just couldn’t be!

She jumped off the bed, stumbled on one of the sneakers, fell down, dropped her glasses, fumbled to pick them up, ran downstairs two steps at a time, and burst into the living room straight into the arms of Aunt Yolanda.

“How come you’re here, my dear?” Mom was just saying. “We thought you planned to stay at least another month in South America.”

“We finished early. I came home last week, and guess what I did! No, you’d never guess, Erika. I sold my condo and purchased a house in the country! No more city life for me!”

Mom looked at her, evidently too surprised for speech. Finally, she said, “This is almost unbelievable, Yolanda. You have always been so entrenched in city life. Why would you do that?”

“I suppose I needed a change, Erika. Life became a little, well, somewhat predictable in the city.”

“What about your work at the museum?”

“Not a problem whatsoever. Most of us are now in the hybrid style, alternating between home and office. Many work mostly at home, particularly in the summer months. As for me, I have a vast number of vacation days that I have not taken for years, and I am tired. This trip took a lot out of me.”

“So you will be taking some time off?” asked Mom.

“Indeed I am; it’s all settled with the boss. I intend to do absolutely nothing until the fall, so naturally, I came here to invite Donna to stay with me for the summer. She must help me decorate the house. It’s enormous!”

Mom was quiet, almost motionless. Donna suddenly felt cold all over, her palms moist, and her heart beating wildly. Aunt Yolanda smiled pleasantly. Could it be that she didn’t know how much Mom detested her, thought Donna. Why did Mom dislike her, anyway? Aunt Yolanda was Dad’s sister, after all, and so pleasant.

“That’s sweet of you, Yolanda, but I’ve already registered and paid for her summer program. It starts next week. I don’t know if I can change that.”

“Oh, they’ll refund, darling. They always have a long waiting list for these fancy programs,” said Aunt Yolanda. “And just think of the advantages! Donna will meet the children of such influential families at my new place! You have no idea who the country club members are. Most of Donna’s age group goes there instead of summer camps; they have everything: pools, tennis professionals, riding, dancing, etc. These people just don’t do summer camps. Very good for her, socially, I think, and I don’t have to tell you how important it is to let her mingle with the right group at her age. Why don’t you run to your room, Donna, while I try to persuade your mother? You probably have to start thinking about the clothes you’ll take no matter where you go. If you come with me, you’ll need seriously elegant clothes because they have many teen functions.”

“I got her a perfect wardrobe for the program,” started Mom with some enthusiasm.

Donna grabbed all her clothes from the closet and threw them feverishly on the bed. She had no idea what to pack in the large suitcase Mom had given her. Sitting on the bed and staring at the mess, she decided all the new clothes were fussy and ugly. But could any clothes make her look pretty? Why didn’t she look like her tall, blond mother? She tried to comb her short, fuzzy red hair to make it smooth, like Mom’s, without much success. Sometimes, Mom seemed made of beautiful, almost glowing, but brittle glass. Donna wouldn’t have objected to looking like her aunt, either. Aunt Yolanda had a lovely face, long, wavy auburn hair, and a great figure, though not as thin as Mom. But then, Aunt Yolanda ate real food, like omelets, sandwiches, and even cakes, while Mom ate only a little chicken, salads, and fruit.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Aunt Yolanda walked in, her emerald green eyes shining victorious. “Let’s pack your bags and leave before Mom changes her mind,” she said, laughing. “And take all the elegant new clothes, even though we both know you’ll never wear them. We must not hurt Mom’s feelings; she took so much trouble with your wardrobe, so we’ll buy you some real clothes when we get home.” Donna jumped and hugged Aunt Yolanda with all her might. She wasn’t going to the summer program!

 

 

Aunt Yolanda's old van glided smoothly over the country road. Donna was quiet, but the silence, this time, was as friendly as it always was with Aunt Yolanda. The intense relief of the sudden change in plans she dreaded drained her of all emotion, and she felt a strange fatigue creeping over her. Nevertheless, a spark of happiness was glowing in her mind.

"You've no idea," she finally said. "This vile summer program. I was almost scared to go."

"Actually, it's a nice program if you have nothing better to do, but you generally have much more interesting things on your mind than endless tennis and swimming," said Aunt Yolanda. "Don't be mad at Mom, though," she added thoughtfully. "Your mother has to go to Italy. Her business is demanding; she has worked hard to build it from scratch, and the Italian shows are vital for consistent success. And I know you hate fancy programs, camps, and schools, but Mom thinks it's good for you to mingle with the right crowd."

"Yes, she wants me to have what she calls 'advantages,' she buys me stuff and takes me to all these concerts and shows. She is not unkind, but I think she is bored with me. I am not pretty, I don't like all these social things, and I can't stand the daughters of her snooty friends and most of my schoolmates."

"It’s all about the pace of growing up, and you are not ready or interested in what she thinks is essential at age fifteen,” said Aunt Yolanda. "People grow in different phases, and I also took some time before I matured. I was a real tomboy at your age."

Donna was amazed. "I had no idea," she said. "Did they tell you then that you were ‘A late bloomer?’ They keep saying it to me, and I am so humiliated."

"Oh, yes, they said it to me all the time. I didn't care, though. What is humiliating about it? What's the rush to be a grownup?"

"I don't know. For some reason, it bothers me, and I want to be pretty like my schoolmates. Their lives seem easier; they don’t have any problems."

"Oh, they have their own problems, believe me. But what is so important about being pretty? Someday, you will realize that intelligence, kindness, a sense of humor, and a good profession greatly impact your life, much more than looks. I suspect you will end up looking like my side of the family; you don’t favor your mother. We are not so bad!”

Donna laughed. “Not so bad? You are gorgeous, Aunt Yolanda. I wish I looked like you.”

“Thank you, and I think you will look like me. Most importantly, I don't think Mom is bored with you. It's just that the two of you don't feel the same way about various matters. You nevertheless love each other very much, and it will be better when you are older. Let's just forgive Mom for trying to give you a good future! We must think about several other matters. I came to get you not only because I love spending the summer with you but because the time has come to start your training in the family business."

"What family business? Dad is a diplomat, Mom is an interior designer, and you're a zoologist! There is no family business!"

"Yes, there is," said Aunt Yolanda calmly. "We're Wicca. Very much a family business."”

“What’s a Wicca?” Asked Donna, mystified. “I have never heard this word.”

“Wicca is the real word for witchcraft,” said Aunt Yolanda. “We are witches.”

Donna laughed. "With broomsticks and pointed hats and long noses? And maybe some bubbling pots?"

"What a medieval picture you paint," said Aunt Yolanda disgustedly. "Witches are servants of the Earth, not hags on brooms!"

Donna looked at her with amazement. It must be a joke, of course, much the same as they always made up stories together, but Aunt Yolanda seemed oddly serious.

"How do I know when you need me?" asked Aunt Yolanda. "You must have noticed that I always come when you are in trouble."

This is true, thought Donna. She always does. How does she know?

Aunt Yolanda pulled the car to the side of the road and parked. She took a heavy silver locket from inside her shirt and opened its little hinge. Inside was a translucent pink gemstone that looked like a polished rose quartz.

"Now, think hard, Donna. Say to yourself: I wish Aunt Yolanda were here. I really wish she were here. I'm in trouble."

Donna tried. She ran the thought through her mind two or three times. Suddenly, the stone darkened, turning a deep red with fiery flashes; it looked like a garnet. Donna jumped back, losing her thought. The stone slowly returned to its original pink.

"This is how I know," said Aunt Yolanda gently. "Whenever you are unhappy, the stone turns red and a little warmer."

"Does Mom know?" whispered Donna, clutching her hands together to stop their shaking.

"No. The Wicca trait runs in Dad's side of the family, though he did not inherit it and doesn't even know about it. I was informed when the time came for me, and then I was trained by my great-aunt Matilda. What a truly magnificent Wicca she was! I wish you could have met her. You are not told unless someone suspects you have inherited the talent."

"Does it mean I'm already a witch? I mean, Wicca?"

"You have the potential; otherwise, the stone couldn't react to your thoughts. But years of training are necessary, and you only succeed if you truly wish to devote your life to this work."

"I dreamed of being a rock star," said Donna, "but this is better. Let’s face it: I don’t have much talent for music. Would I be expected to turn people into frogs?"

Aunt Yolanda laughed as she returned to the road. "Most likely, you'll protect and defend real frogs. But look, you can see the new house from here!"

Donna saw an old house with roofs, garrets, and terraces jutting out like afterthoughts. Enormous, ancient conifers touched their foliage above the roof, protecting the house like a green blanket. Aunt Yolanda parked the van in the dilapidated driveway, and Donna jumped out. She smelled wild roses, honeysuckles, and pines. The soft rustling of leaves and bird songs were the only audible sounds.

"This is a surprise! When you mentioned the country club to Mom, I thought you bought a house in the suburbs. Is there really a country club? Do I have to go there?"

"The country club definitely exists, and I became a member in case your Mom wants to call us there. You know, I never really lie. But it's an hour's drive from here, and no, you don't have to go. We have so much work to do decorating the house!"

"The house is splendid just the way it is," said Donna. "I must explore."

"Go ahead. I'll make a snack in the meantime. Just watch out for the rickety stairs."

Donna explored room after room, some filled with dusty and comfortable old furniture, some completely empty. Every window opened into the fragrant canopy of trees and vines, and a soft, green light poured in. Climbing to the second floor on the half-broken stairs, Donna entered a small, bright, cheerful room that she instinctively knew must be hers.

Two opened windows allowed the heavy pine branches to grow inside and press against the walls, making the room look like a tree house. On one of the branches hung a tiny antique lantern with a candle stuck in it. A white bedspread and a comfortable pile of pillows covered the bed. The furniture was completed by two chairs, a chest of drawers, a mirror, and an empty bookcase, all made of natural wood. The green afternoon light moved with the branches of the trees, creating little patches and pools, constantly dancing, rolling, and changing.

"Donna, come have your snack!"

Almost reluctantly, she went downstairs, and Aunt Yolanda asked, "Did you like your room?"

"It’s the cutest room I have ever seen,” said Donna. “I just love it. But how did you know that I really could come? You prepared the room for me especially, I can tell!”

“Ah, well, let’s say I had a hunch I could do something about it. And even if you couldn’t make it this time, I had plans for the future. There are some wonderful schools here, you know. How would you like to live with me until you finish high school?”

Donna was speechless. Her mouth opened, and her jaw hung without any dignity or style.

“I could do that? You think it is possible?” she whispered. “They will let me come?”

“Your parents will let you stay here if I work regularly from the house. I have three books lined up with my publisher, and the Museum people don’t care if I Email them their monthly publication.”

“But won’t they insist on keeping me until I go to college? I mean, would they just agree to give me up?”

Aunt Yolanda was silent for a moment, hesitating. Suddenly, she seemed to make up her mind. “It’s not that they don’t love you or want to get rid of you. Not at all. They love you very much. But let’s face facts, darling. Your parents will probably be separating.”

“I have to admit I did suspect that,” said Donna quietly. “But are you sure?”

“Not sure, but I think so. Your father lives almost permanently in Europe. Your Mom is dreadfully busy with her business. For all we know, perhaps someone else exists in their lives. I am not sure about that, but there is nothing wrong with that if they find new happiness for themselves. Sometimes it is better to separate if life together does not work out.”

“I can accept that,” said Donna thoughtfully. “I do want them to be happy, and I love them, but we don’t understand one another, and it’s difficult and awkward most of the time.”

“You are pretty wise for your age, Donna.”

“For a late bloomer?” Donna said, almost laughing.

 Aunt Yolanda smiled. “You are no late bloomer when it comes to your thinking… I believe they feel bad about how little time they can spend with you, but these are their lives, and they can’t change now. On the other hand, I have all the time in the world, and my favorite activity is raising you. Besides, after all, I’m family, and they trust me. If I told them you could go to school with the children of the ‘best families’ of the state and have me take care of you, why not? They can then pursue their own lives peacefully, and no one is hurt. And you can meet often and have a great time because the pressure and stress would be eliminated.”

Donna's calmness collapsed. “But do you really, really want me? You won’t be able to travel if I stay with you,” she whimpered, wiping her eyes. “Your trips to the rainforest would end.”

“Haven’t you guessed yet? I never go to the rainforest. At least not the one in South America. On this last trip I just returned from, I went about my Wicca business to a different forest altogether. Next time I go on a trip, you can come along if you agree to stay with me.”

“Agree? I have never wanted anything more in my life!” Donna sobbed just a little more. Then she ate plenty of chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream, and Aunt Yolanda did precisely the same.

“Let’s go upstairs and arrange the books in your bookcase,” suggested Aunt Yolanda when they finished eating. “I didn’t have time to do that, and they’re still in my room.”

Aunt Yolanda pulled a huge cardboard box of books from under the bed. They started transferring them to Donna’s room and arranging them in the bookcase. Some were old favorites, some school books, and some were mysterious, heavy books with strange titles. “Wicca books, of course,” explained Aunt Yolanda. “We will start soon. You’ll love it; it’s such fun.”

“The idea scares me a little,” confessed Donna. “I drop things, I break stuff. What if I have to look after bubbling cauldrons?”

“Wicca don’t use bubbling cauldrons. I’m rather fond of toaster ovens. Like most people, you have a wrong idea of witches, probably because of all those ridiculous medieval legends, not to mention the horrible Witch Trials of Salem. We are custodians of the Earth, caretakers, and friends of animals and plants. We save and protect them. Of course, we’re born with the Wicca talent, but my Ph.D. in zoology is real, and I use this part of my education every day in my work just as much as I use my Wicca training. I am the keeper of a very special animal sanctuary.”

“Can I go there? You know how I love animal sanctuaries!” cried Donna, her eyes glowing with anticipation.

“Of course, I know. I introduced you to sanctuaries and reservations when you were a mere baby. Your real talent, though, I think, is with plants. Did you bring your herbarium, by the way?”

“Sure. My plant guidebooks, too. Here they are, in my backpack. I figured you have tons of interesting plants I can collect, different from our gardens at home.”

They brought Donna’s suitcase from downstairs and began arranging her clothes. Donna unrolled the soft sweater in which she wrapped her new Cinnabar box and was about to put it on the chest of drawers when Aunt Yolanda saw it.

“My goodness, child, where did you get this?”

“I got it this morning at the antique shop where Mom goes for her clients. The owner, Mr. Rose, gave it to me after I upset everything on one of his shelves.”

“I know Mr. Rose,” said Aunt Yolanda. “He has a fascinating store. In fact, I recommended him to your Mom a few years ago. So he gave you this Cinnabar box? Did he tell you how long he had it?”

“He said he had it for years and couldn’t sell it because it would not open.”

“It’s beautiful. Maybe someday we can figure out a way to open it,” said Aunt Yolanda.

“I don’t mind even if it stays shut,” said Donna, looking affectionately at the little carved animals.

“I can’t say what it is,” said Aunt Yolanda, “but there is something familiar about these camels and donkeys. I must have seen a similar Cinnabar piece somewhere.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the woods and identified ten species of plants and flowers with the guidebook. Donna had the knack of remembering an amazing number of Latin names. The woods were wild and untouched, a naturalist’s heaven. They went in for dinner and cooked in the unsophisticated kitchen only when the sun went down.

“What we need is more modern equipment,” said Aunt Yolanda. “Let’s go to town tomorrow and shop for a toaster oven, a microwave, and some really good pots and pans. Now, where shall we eat?”

Deciding to eat on the veranda, Donna brought the little old lantern with the candle from her room. Huge white Luna Moths fluttered around them, and they could see a few bats on their way to some hidden body of water. They heard the unmistakable sounds of flying squirrels, too.

“It will be so beautiful in winter, when the snow covers the pines, and the wind blows in the tree-tops. We’ll have pine wood fires in the fireplace, and the house will smell like a forest,” said Aunt Yolanda.

“I want to stay so much,” said Donna wistfully. “Even if I have to study both regular school and Wicca and do double homework, it will be so much fun. If they’ll let me stay, of course.”

“I have no doubt they will let you stay. I’ve never failed to persuade them to do anything I want, so stop worrying,” said Aunt Yolanda. She went into the house and came back with a package.

“I have something you will need,” said Aunt Yolanda, taking a heavy silver locket, very much like her own, from the package.

“There is no stone in it yet because you must either find or win it yourself. But you should start wearing the locket regularly.”

The old silver glowed with a dark shine. Strange carvings of flowers and tendrils wrapped around it, and the flowing shape of a ribbon, or a river, ran through the foliage. Donna put it reverently around her neck. It felt just right, as if she had been wearing it for years.

“I’ll never take it off,” she whispered in awe, rubbing the old carving gently. “Thank you so much… I feel like a Wicca already when I wear it.”

“I thought you would, darling. You have the talent, trust me. It just has to be developed, like any other field of knowledge. Yes, it’s hard work, but the rewards are immense.”

 

Moonlight filled Donna’s room with rivers of milk and liquid silver. She hung the tiny lantern back on the pine branch that entered the room, and the touch released the powerful, resinous scent of the pine needles. Unwilling to disturb the magic by turning on the light, she undressed in the semi-darkness, relaxed on the soft white pillows, and deeply breathed the cool night air. Two fireflies found their way into the pine branch and twinkled like little distant stars right inside the room. I don’t want to fall asleep, Donna thought, looking at the two blinking golden dots. I’ll miss something extraordinary… I want to stay up all night… She drifted off on a dark wave of dreamless sleep.

 

~~~

 

In a very different, faraway place, the heavy wooden door burst open, and the Prime Minister ran into the Queen’s room with such unseemly haste that he tripped over his long robe and fell down. Fortunately, he was plump and bouncy, so he was not hurt. Paying no attention to his undignified position, he cried, “They found the Cinnabar box! Camellia and Bartholomew – they just called me, Your Majesty!”

The Queen looked affectionately at her old friend, a momentary smile lifting the sadness from her large black eyes. She poured a glass of water from an earthenware jar and handed it silently to the Prime Minister. The Queen was tall, thin, and not very young. She wore a simple white robe with no crown on her graying black hair. But no one could mistake her for anyone but a great monarch, daughter of an ancient dynasty.

The Queen removed a black cloth from a crystal ball mounted on a gold box with black buttons. She walked slowly to the window and looked out at the desert. Outside, the hot wind blew vigorously, driving the dust against the heavy glass of the window pane. The Queen gazed at the gray and stormy sky, covered with clouds that never rained, and waited until the crystal ball started to shimmer with swirling streams of white smoke. Suddenly, the face of a camel appeared in the ball.

“Camellia, my dear,” said the Queen, touching and adjusting the black buttons on the crystal ball. “I am glad to see you are safe. This has been a long assignment.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Camellia. “I am happy to report that we have found the Cinnabar Box. Mr. Rose, an owner of an antique shop, had it for years and didn’t know what to do with it, though he suspected something. He gave it to a young girl named Donna. I believe he saw us spying on him, and I think he understood, but we couldn’t communicate. You know how it is in their bizarre reality.”

“And will the girl give you the Cinnabar Box if you explain the need?”

“She probably would, but it’s a bit more complicated than that, Your Majesty. Let me explain…”