Page 37 of Harnessed in Gold

Leo launches to his feet then seems bewildered to find himself standing. He turns to me and says in a rush, “Let me see what you wrote about that granny woman.”

I take the brochure from Avery and hand it to him, squirming self-consciously under his gaze. “All we have is her name. I have no idea who she is.”

“Jeannie West?” he reads.

I nod. “They said her grandfather was a yarb doctor and taught her the craft.”

“Get me your computer,” Aaron orders Leo. Leo hands him the brochure and disappears down the hall.

I tell Aaron, “I’m guessing at the spelling.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

When Leo returns with a laptop, I offer him my seat beside Aaron. While they search, the rest of us discuss the other rumors we heard.

Avery grins. “Just so you know, there’s a mermaid in the river.”

“Wouldn’t that be a naiad?” I ask. “I thought mermaids were only in the sea.”

Leo’s eyes snap up from the laptop to look straight at me. I guess he’s surprised I know the difference between a naiad and a mermaid, but come on, I’m an English major. I’ve read everything from theOdysseytoBeowulfto Dante’sInferno. I’ve picked up a shit-ton of mythology without even trying.

Topaz shrugs. “The old woman said ‘mermaid.’”

“So some sort of undine,” Leo surmises before turning his attention back to the screen.

Avery’s grin turns sinister. “And she said she’s drowned at least four ex-lovers in there.” She trades a look with Topaz, then with me, and to my surprise, Topaz nearly smiles. I guess there’s a little of that vengeful spirit in every woman.

“Found her!” Aaron whoops.

We spring from our seats and crowd around him, elbowing one another to get a good view of the screen.

“It says Jean not Jeannie, but that’s gotta be her.” He points to a photo of a nicely dressed, smiling couple, perhaps in their seventies, standing in front of an arched stained-glass window.

I lean in closer. The caption reads, “Pastor Gerald and Jean West,” and the picture is on the homepage of Redemption Baptist Church. “She’s a preacher’s wife?”

“Looks like it,” Aaron says.

“That can’t be her.”

Avery interrupts, “Why not?”

“Well, because she’s a witch.”

She shrugs. “The Bible has always been a big part of Appalachian witchcraft.”

I suppose that’s true. To Linda and Barbara, the spirit world included Jesus, the devil, haints, and everything in between.

“So—” Avery sets her fists on her hips. “Who wants to go to church on Sunday?”

Every single one of us gapes at her. “What?!”

“To find out if Jean West is a granny woman.”

“And how would we do that?” Aaron demands. “Just go up to her and ask?”

“No, we chat with her after the service. Feel her out a little. If she’s a granny woman, it’ll be obvious. Trust me.”

I protest, “We can’t just all pile into Redemption Baptist Church on Sunday morning. That would just be… really weird.” I doubt they’re used to students showing up, especially in large groups. From what I can tell, most Brownhill kids aren’t religious, and the few that are worship with the college’s denominational organizations, not at the local churches.