Contributing

Katelyn felt like she was on a new high after she arranged to volunteer with the Social Unity Party. She finally felt like she could contribute to a cause, and then she would be a part of something bigger, and her life would finally have meaning. Kristyn would help her figure out what to do, and then one step at a time, she would finally be set up for success. If she focused on political activism, she would be integrated into her passion, and then she would be excited. How could she be disappointed if she were excited?

Aunt Twinkle seemed happy to catch up with Brittney. Perhaps, she was someone that Katelyn could talk to, and maybe even someone who would understand. Still, they left the party headquarters in silence with a seemingly uplifting atmosphere around them. Twinkle took Katelyn back to Katelyn’s parents’ house, and somehow all her stuff was in her room again, as if she had never left. She lay on her bed, and she thought that she could believe that Victoria’s spirit was still with her. The thought did not inspire grief in her this time, although she almost felt like it should and that she deserved to feel the pain of Victoria’s absence.

Still, her mood felt high now, as if she were on a drug or something, not that she would ever go on a drug to know what it was like. Her parents did not approve of drinks or alcohol, and she possibly disapproved of them more. No, this was an odd happiness, as if she had borrowed it from Kristyn or something. It was so sudden, and even if she had two new opportunities, in the play and in the party, it did not necessarily feel in touch with her deepest emotions. It could be difficult to manage her schoolwork, the play, and volunteering with the party. She shrugged the thought away and looked at the script for the play. She would figure out how to play her part somehow, and everything would be alright.

Katelyn read through her lines, trying to memorize all the words, before she lay the script aside. She still had time, and she would soon catch on.

She was running down a dark street, far from home, and she could not stop, or they would catch her. She looked behind her to see the red eyes getting closer. The eyes glinted in the minimal light cast by the streetlights. There were few streetlights on this street. It was a residential street lined with houses, but they were small houses, and their lights were off.

She kept running forwards and then twisted down a dark alley. Howls resounded behind her, and she could feel herself beginning to sweat. Why had she run this way? What had she been thinking? Her legs were getting tired, and the eyes were not that far back from her. She exited the alley and ran down another street. It curved around into a ring of houses. One of them had lights on, white Christmas lights that would soon be their Halloween decorations. Red lights surrounded her, and the red lights peered from the eyes of wolves. She was surrounded by wolves. They howled, and she heard a creek as the door to the house opened.

Then, she was falling from the edge of a cliff, and a pool of lava lay beneath her. Voices were calling to her, but she did not know what they were saying. They started as quiet whispers, and then their tones became more frantic. She heard a shriek and then a howl in the distance, but she was still falling, and the lava remained equally far away. She began to feel like she would never reach the ground, and then there was a slide beneath her, and she was sliding closer to the lava. A monkey swung from above towards her, and a vampire bat flew towards her from the other direction. The slide twisted away from them and onto a platform, from which she jumped down to a bar and landed on dry land, in a small patch away from the lava. Wolves rose from the lava, and lava flew through their fur.

She awoke to the sound of the alarm on her phone. Katelyn felt jarred from her dreams, as if they were out of touch with how she had been feeling. She wondered if it were all a lie, but somehow, a song started up in her mind, and she felt like she was okay. It was not a particularly happy song, but it made her feel better. And though we’ve been down the hardest road we’ve yet traveled / At least we weren’t travelling alone. She remembered the song from Storm Greenwood’s “A Little Broken,” which she listened to a few days ago. Right now, she was not alone, because the political party was with her, and Kristyn believed in her, or at least did not hate her. More importantly, Victoria had believed in her, and she had her aunt beside her now. Even Hanna was on her side.

She left her room to face her aunt. Twinkle was reading the newspaper at the kitchen table with an empty cereal bowl and a glass next to her. A sudden tremor spread through Katelyn before she realized that Twinkle was not reading The Constant but the local metro. She breathed out, but she should have known that Twinkle would be different than Katelyn’s father.

Katelyn poured herself some granola as she carefully observed Twinkle. Twinkle seemed frustrated by the news. She placed the newspaper on the table. “Good morning,” she greeted. Katelyn said nothing in response but placed her granola on the table with a spoon and started eating it. She had not given herself much, because she still had to be careful and eat Hanna’s potion to help transition herself back to real food.

Twinkle did not comment when Katelyn drank the potion Hanna had made her. Instead, she rose from the table and put her dishes in the dishwasher. She put on her felt hat and felt coat with a knitted reddish-purple scarf. “Time to go volunteer for the Party,” she declared.

Katelyn copied her aunt and followed her out the door. It was strange as if she could trust and relate to her aunt and yet she knew very little about her aunt and what her aunt did. Twinkle drove back to the Party headquarters. Sylvan, Kristyn, and Brittney stood outside the building with a small group of volunteers.

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“Zara returned to coordinate our office in the capital,” Brittney told one of the volunteers. “Kristyn is helping with the campaign, but she switches it around, if you know what I mean.”

The volunteer seemed surprised. “And that’s legal?”

“If no one sees you do it,” Kristyn responded calmly. “That’s the strange nature of the law in forbidding our magic in public but not in private.” Kristyn spoke ‘strange’ with irritation as if she did not believe such a division was strictly possible. For her to occasionally be in the West and then in the East, it was obvious she had used magic unless she spent several hours hiding inside pretending that she was on a jet instead of merely appearing.

Sylvan arranged the volunteers into three groups. She sorted Twinkle with Brittney and Katelyn with Kristyn. Katelyn felt excitement flowing through the volunteers. Kristyn led her group of five volunteers away from the rest.

“Okay, pair up,” Kristyn commanded. The four other volunteers arranged themselves into two groups. Katelyn looked between the groups and Kristyn. Kristyn handed each group a clipboard. “Katelyn, you’ll go with me since you are new. We will knock on the door of each house according to the colour dot on the map. Katelyn and I will be red, Nori and Melvana will be blue, and Jess and Ciara will be green. Inform the inhabitants of witch oppression as noted in the script and immediately retreat at any sign of danger.”

Kristyn led her entire group around the corner towards a group of houses. The other two pairs of volunteers split off to knock on different doors as Kristyn led Katelyn up the stairs of a grey house with a white door. Kristyn knocked on the door.

An elderly woman with white hair opened the door. “What do you want?” she demanded eying Kristyn suspiciously.

“To bid you well,” Kristyn began. The woman narrowed her eyes as her hand tapped the side of the door impatiently. “You are well I hope?”

“Yes,” the woman responded irritably. “Now, get to the point.”

Rude, Katelyn thought, but she smiled slightly as she wondered how Kristyn would respond.

“Well, life can be hard for some of us women,” Kristyn explained. The woman huffed in irritation and moved to close the door. Kristyn immediately sped up her speech. “With the death of Victoria Leste, an important woman in our community, we feel it is important to stand together against oppression and hatred.”

The woman laughed. “I am not interested in your crusade. Women have what they need, and now you are just arguing for things that’ll upset the balance in society.”

“What balance is there when some people have more freedom than others?” Kristyn protested. “Was your voice not worth upsetting the patriarchy? Women have gained the vote, the right to be our own person rather than belonging to a man, access to better jobs, support within those jobs—all because we fought to be heard. We have made gains, but we do not have equality. We must stand together—”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” the woman interrupted as she closed the door.

“—to fight for what we deserve,” Kristyn finished. Katelyn glanced at her. “It usually goes worse.” Katelyn widened her eyes. All Kristyn had mentioned was feminism, aside from the passing mention of Victoria Leste. “Personally, I think this is the wrong approach. People always think we are trying to sell something. The key is to try to connect with them on some level in which they might be disadvantaged. You can try at the next house.”

Katelyn followed Kristyn to the next house and knocked on the door. A middle-aged white man answered the door. Oh, no, Katelyn thought. “H-hello. How are you?” Katelyn attempted.

“What do you want?” the man snapped.

“To… uh, bid you well,” Katelyn stammered.

“Great,” the man mumbled in response, moving to close the door. Pestering salespeople.

“We aren’t trying to sell anything,” Katelyn hissed quickly.

The skin around the man’s eyes flinched and then his eyebrows drew together. Even worse. “Then, what are you doing?” Besides wasting my time.

“Raising awareness about the death of Victoria Leste,” Katelyn elaborated.

She noticed an immediate shift in the man’s eyes. “Oh!” he hollered. “Yeah, I heard about that. Crazy lady, she was.”

Katelyn shivered. She looked down to her feet. This is not going well, not going well at all. What am I going to do? Why did I ever think I could be helpful? Why did I ever think I could handle this? I am not good enough for this. I am failing the Party, I am failing witches, and I am failing women.

“She just wanted to help our children,” Kristyn calmly defended Victoria.

“A woman like that is a danger to all our kids,” the man challenged, “and you’re all crazy.” He slammed the door.

Kristyn shrugged. “If there is a seed of doubt, it is a success.”

How bad must this be to use that to qualify success? Katelyn wondered. She followed Kristyn to the rest of the houses. Some people did not even answer their doors. Others heard one word and closed the door again. Kristyn and Katelyn alternated giving a similar speech to little avail. Katelyn felt her heart sinking with each rejection, although she tried to ignore it and maintain a bright attitude. It blended into an endless flow after a while, walking, talking, and not really getting any sort of positive response. It softened the rejection a little to know that Kristyn was beside her, attempting to pretend that they had accomplished something, even if she knew full well that the vast majority of the population was never going to be convinced by a couple of people from a radical fringe party knocking on their door that they should be concerned about the suffering of others.

It slowly melded into a routine as Katelyn forced her fake smile and tried to convince herself that it was real. She was trying to hold onto the rest of the enthusiasm that she had borrowed from Kristyn, but she was beginning to feel like the entire mission that they were on was pointless. People had already heard about Victoria Leste’s death, and they had already made up their minds on whether they cared or not, and even if they did care, they could still make up their minds differently on who was responsible. Some people would blame Victoria, and others would blame Mr. and Mrs. Valedette. Katelyn could not see them being convinced that the Conservatives and The Constant had a role in promoting the background hatred.

When they had finally reached all the houses, Kristyn and Katelyn met back up with the other two pairs of volunteers, who shrugged as if they had not had much success either. “We’ll try more directly pressing the role of The Constant next time,” Kristyn commented. “In line with our online strategy.” So, any progress they had made was probably through social media. Great, now I really feel useful, Katelyn thought to herself sarcastically.