Panacea

Ro knows he has a gift, but his family wants him to stop. But when he is presented with a opportunity to help a member of his family, his gift becomes more of a curse.

Ro bit his cheek, contemplating his next step. Slowly, he reached for the small amount of water he had collected from Cape Elizabeth, whispering an incantation into the tiny bubbles. 

The mixture took on a dark blue color while he referenced the recipe again. The ingredients were difficult to grind but he gasped while the powder smoked and casted bolts of light to the ceiling of his frigid basement apartment. 

Suddenly, his phone lit up.

            “Hey, mom,” he answered quickly, trying to divide his attention. “How is she doing?” There was a pause as more light flashed. “Mom?”

            “She’s not well, Yarrow.” Ro’s mother had turned into a cold woman. She spoke to her children harshly, as if always disappointed. “They suggest we say our goodbyes.”

             “I can do something about it,” Ro blurted out as a spark stung his finger. “Ouch.” 

            “Don’t do this,” she said with a stern voice. “Your grandmother, my mother, cannot bear another parent to outlive their child because of spells and toxic potions. Stop.”

            “Dad would want me-.” But before he could finish, preparing to add the water into the mortar, his mother snapped.

            “Your father isn’t here anymore to tell us what he wants,” she spat at him. “That should convince you enough.” Too easily, her words cut him. “We all agreed to meet at eleven.” Ro glanced at the stove clock. He had two hours.

            “Who is ‘we all’?” he asked suspiciously, watching the water trickle and simmer as the panacea started to take form. 

            “Just be there, Yarrow. With no surprises.” Click.

Ro signed, placed the water and his phone on the table, and held his head in his hands. 

 The panacea bubbled lightly until the sizzle grew more aggressive, turning to a boil. Ro stepped back and watched as the substance thickened and cascaded down the sides of the mortar. A headache sank in. His gaze held fast to the panacea, unable to break the scowl that formed on his face. Larger bubbles formed from the mixture that floated and glided across the table, attaching itself to the end of the table. It burst with

“Attempt number…” Ro referenced his notebook. “Twenty two.” He marked on the torn-out page. “Failure.”

            Ro slammed his notebook shut, gathering his bag to return to the shops off of Main.

            The flower shop, Phlox & Fire Lilies, had not opened for the day. But as he walked past the large display window, donned with winter décor of White Pine Cone and Sedums, the owner of the shop noticed him immediately.

            “You’re back early,” she smiled, whipping the door open. Salma, a dark-skinned and white-haired woman in her sixties, had owned the flower shop for as long as Ro could remember. “You didn’t get everything you needed? I thought we perfected it?” she asked, welcoming him into the heat.

            “In writing,” Ro said as he shut the door behind him, showing her scribbled words. “I’m missing something, I’m sure.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it. “It has to be herbal; something to do with the mind,” Ro studied. “Do you still have that book?” Salma nodded.

“Come downstairs, I’ve still got some time before I open.”

            Salma’s jungle of rare and colorful house plants crowded the basement. Ro noticed a few new pots as her purple grow lights flickered and they made their way down the wooden steps. Shifting large Dracanea Limelight stocks to the side, Salma dug through a tall bookshelf that stretched across the far wall of the basement.

            “Did I ever tell you,” she smiled. “That a high priestess gave this book to me as a thank you gift for successfully growing a Nepenthes for her? Said she wanted to use it to capture the rains on the full moon to use for a healing spell.”

            “Did it work?”

            “I’m not sure,” Salma said, pulling the floppy book from its shelf. “I think she died,” Salma shrugged as she laid the book out on a potting table. “Okay.” Quickly, Salma flipped through a marked section with a small paragraph illustrating the description of a Ginkgo biloba. Written on the page was the word ‘memory’.

            “Wait,” Ro said, flipping the page back. “The ‘living fossil’”, he read. “Ginkgo biloba is the oldest living tree species, revealed 350 million years ago. Also referred to as the ‘silver apricot’ the leaves from this tree have been known to improve blood circulation to the brain, relieving such conditions as Alzheimer’s.” Salma suddenly jetted her eyes up to Ro.

“Oh, honey,” she sighed, limply closing the book. 

            “Not you, too,” Ro exhaled.

            “These memory elixirs aren’t for that, sweetie.” Ro leaned back. “You can’t help her,” Salma lamented. “Not with this.” Ro tightened his fists, turning to leave with hot breath in his lungs. “Sweetie, your Nonna and I were great friends, don’t you think I would have tried this already?”

            “Why won’t you?” Ro asked with hot tears forming in his eyes.

            “Because it won’t work.”

            “But have you tired?”

            “No, honey, but-”

            “So, you don’t know!” Ro yelled at her as he stomped back up the stairs. His pocket vibrated again and again; Ro ignored it. Rummaging through her shop, he collected the Ginkgo biloba leaves, threw money on the counter, and slammed her shop door behind him. 

            The memory care home sat icy in the blistering frost. Ro pushed through the glass doors; fresh memory elixir hidden in a metal thermos. The clock read 11:08 AM as an EMT lit a cigarette outside the front lobby.

Ro saw his mother first, standing in front of his Nonna’s room. But as he got closer, a gurney wheeled out, rusty and loud, and the EMT from outside rushed past him. The thermos fell from Ro’s hand and the elixir crashed onto the titles of the floor. The green glow, even brighter from the fluorescent light reflection, slithered down the hall, just barely pooling at the foot of the gurney.  

Reviews

[AhhhKitty]

Hi. I joined this site yesterday and just finding my way round. I enjoyed 'Panacea'. It kept me wondering how it was going to end. I think a bit more proof reading is needed (eg "It burst with...." at the end of the paragraph about a third of the way into the story). Hope that is helpful. :)