I Drink of My Sisters

Three friends and I walk into the woods. It's a hot July day. We remembered sunscreen but not insect repellant. I've got the picnic basket, which doesn't have a meal for us. It's full of candles, incense, matches, seashells, feathers, a rusty steak knife, a quilting pin, a coffee mug, and a half-empty bottle of grape juice.

We watched The Craft on VHS during last night's sleepover at Jane's house, and now we're going to be witches.

I might be the instigator here.

After all, my friend Helen at school loaned me books about witchcraft, and I only had to refer to the dictionary a few times when reading them. And the community theater I act in after school was right next door to a magic shop, where I spend a good chunk of my allowance on strong-smelling incense. My mom even gave me a deck of Tarot cards and a book about how to read them.

I've been a lone practitioner since fourth grade, but now I have three friends who want to be a coven!

Eileen insists on being our Fire. I know that I can't say anything to dissuade her. If I point out that her personality is more like Nancy Downs in the movie, she'll take offense. If I mention that Moira, with her deep feelings and cautious temperament, may be a better Fire for our coven, Eileen will argue and Moira will instantly step down.

We find our little clearing in the woods, just beside a babbling stream. It'd be better if there were a mystic swarm of butterflies to greet us, or even some peeping frogs or something. But, we can make do with the occasional squirrel digging through the nearby undergrowth. We spread out our blanket.

"Which way is North?" Jane asks. "We didn't bring a compass."

"The sun rises over there," I say, pointing. "So, north is this way."

Eileen plants herself at the southern corner. Maybe her stubborn butt should be Earth. I bet the steadiness and patience of Earth would do her good. But she says she will be Fire, and an argument now might make her storm off again.

Moira helps me set up our altar in the center. The steak knife athame points towards me at the north. The incense points towards Jane at the east. She lights it and hands the matchbox to Eileen.

"I wish we had a black one," Eileen says, lighting a white candle. "Black for power. Or green for money!"

"I think it's good to start with the basics," I say. "White candles can be used for anything."

Eileen can't complain too much. It was my allowance that got us most of our witchcraft supplies.

The coffee mug chalice sits before Moira in the west corner.

"Do we Invoke the Spirit now?" Eileen asks impatiently.

"That was later in the movie," Jane reminds her. "This is the part where they say, 'We are the weirdos, mister,' and start casting real spells together."

I laugh, because it has to be a joke. "Witchcraft isn't really about making stuff fly around and making people fall in love with you," I say. "It's more like, digging into yourself. Focusing your own energies."

"But with demons," Eileen says.

"There weren't any demons in the movie," Jane argues.

"That whole movie was demonic," Eileen corrects her. "But I'll make a deal with a demon if it means I can cast spells."

"Manon isn't a demon," Moira says. She looks to me for confirmation. "He's bigger than God or the Devil, right?"

"Yes," I say, "And also, it's really all symbolic, anyway."

My friends give me blank looks.

"I don't know if Manon or Spirit are, like, physical things you can see and touch. But it all symbolizes our connection to nature. To the whole universe around us."

Eileen chuckles a little. "You got that from your books? Nerd."

"That's what witchcraft is," I insist. "It's using a set of symbols to connect with the balance of nature, and to bring out the power within ourselves."

Maybe when we cast our circle and form a coven, they'll understand what I mean. Maybe they'll feel the connection I feel to the afternoon sunlight trickling through the green canopy.

We cast our circle. Our words were carefully derived from the movie and one of my books.

It actually feels a little bit like a Mad Libs game. "I am (name). I call upon the watchtower of the (cardinal direction), with the power of (element) and (something else). Bless our circle."

Jane, East, air and invention. Eileen, South, fire and feeling. Moira, West, water and healing. I call on North, earth and mother.

There are no sudden clouds with dramatic cracks of lightning. There is no colorful songbird appearing beside us with supernatural friendliness. I didn't really expect those things, anyway.

Jane insists we bind the circle the way the girls in the movie did. Eileen says the only person holding a knife to her throat is me. Flattered, I agree. We move around a little.

"It is better that you should rush upon this blade, then enter the circle with fear in your heart. How do you enter?"

"With perfect love, and perfect trust."

We kiss each other's cheeks. She takes the athame and holds it to Jane's throat for the same call and response, then Jane does it to Moira, and Moira to me.

We sit on our blanket and Moira pours the grape juice wine into the chalice. Jane sterilizes the pin with a match for me. I try to pick my finger with it, but it's too dull.

"Let me try." Eileen manages to scrape it along the side of a finger and make herself bleed a little. She reaches for the cup.

"We aren't really going to drink each other's blood," Moira says, covering the chalice with her hand.

"That's what they do in the movie," Jane insists.

"They had real wine in the movie," Moira says. "That's alcohol. Alcohol kills germs."

"It's only a little blood," Eileen says.

"I wouldn't drink a little of your spit either," Moira says. "Or your pee or anything."

"It's all symbolic," I say. "We can put our blood on the outside of the chalice to bless it that way. It's still just as magic."

We all bless the chalice.

Jane holds it out in front of her first. "I drink of my sisters and I take into myself the power to be so beautiful that boys can't resist me at all." She sips and hands it to me.

"I think we're supposed to focus more on qualities we have within ourselves," I say. "I drink of my sisters, and I take in the power of truth. I want to speak honestly, and I want people to be honest with me." I drink.

Eileen laughs and calls me a nerd again.

It's Moira's turn. "I drink of my sisters, and take into myself the power to be trusted. I want people to tell me their secrets." She drinks.

"But, like," I say. "You want to be trustworthy. When people know they can trust you, then they'll want to confide in you."

Moira shrugs and says, "Yeah, sure."

Eileen takes the chalice. "I drink of my sisters and take into myself the power to attract lots and lots of money." She finishes the wine in the cup, imitating Nancy in the movie.

I smile and play along with the game. I try to ignore the sinking feeling in my heart.

These girls aren't really my coven. They'll find out that it isn't as simple as "ask for beauty/trust/money and it will be thrown at you." When witchcraft doesn't "work" the way it does in movies and fantasy novels, they'll think it doesn't work at all.

And they'll be right. It won't work... for them.

Maybe they were just playing at the movie, anyway, like we did with Disney movies when we were kids. Twelve and thirteen years old, and they're still playing Pretend.

Maybe I'll always be a lone practitioner.

-------------)O(-------------

I really did take my thirteen-year-old vow of honesty seriously. I have also maintained my belief that real things can be communicated by symbols. So, this story is both completely honest, and not entirely factual.

I changed Eileen's name. She and I tried our hands at witchcraft with a few sets of friends. I loved her like a sister through a large portion of childhood.

Ironically, about a year after her failed money spell, she left her purse unattended in a public library. She blamed me for the cash that went missing from it. I would never steal from an unattended purse, and had been nowhere near the library that day anyway. She became convinced that I wanted to hurt her. I understood that this meant she didn't know my real nature at all.

Jane and Moira are composite characters. I'm still in touch with most of women who provided their source material. The girl who wanted people's secrets has been one of my most beloved friends this whole time. I can tell her anything.