Read Sweet Dreams, Irene for Free Online Page B

whole thing may never actually reach print. I’m just trying to be ready in case something breaks. And for that matter, I don’t even know your last name. What is it?”
    “You won’t contact my parents?”
    “Not my business.”
    “Garden.”
    Holy Mary. No wonder the kid had problems. Anyone who had been given a handle like Gethsemane Garden had an uphill battle. I tried not to let my face reveal that I knew what Sammy stood for.
    “Okay, Miss Garden, why don’t you tell me about the coven?”
    “Don’t call me Miss Garden. I hate my name. I’m going to change it. Anyway—call me Sammy, okay?”
    “If you’d prefer that, sure. Look, Sammy, I’m not here to cause you problems. Tell me about this group you’re in.”
    “Well, last Friday night our coven gathered, and I went and Jacob came by and tried to get me to leave. End of story.”
    “Not quite. What kind of group is this? Satanist?”
    She rolled her eyes. “No. Satanism is a different thing altogether. We’re not Satanists, no matter what that moron Montgomery says.”
    “So what are you?”
    She sighed, and looked at Jacob. He just watched her silently, but his eyes were willing her to keep talking. She turned back to me.
    “We’re into what you would probably call paganism. It’s a very old religion. It’s a religion of the earth. That’s what we worship—the earth and her creatures are holy to us. It’s a very female thing. Satanism is a very male thing.”
    If any of that bothered Jacob, he didn’t show it.
    “So these witches met last Friday. Are they male and female, even though this is a female thing?”
    “We don’t discriminate.”
    “So what happened that night?”
    “Jacob came along and he asked me to leave with him.”
    “Jacob didn’t participate at all?”
    “No.”
    “What would participating include?”
    “I told you, he didn’t participate.”
    “And I asked what participating includes.”
    She stewed for a moment. “I can’t tell you.”
    “Sworn to secrecy? You take some blood oath or something?”
    “No! I mean, yes, I am sworn to secrecy and no, it is not a blood oath. Look, this is like my religion, okay? I won’t tell you what we do. It’s between the members of the coven; it’s not for outsiders.”
    “If what Jacob tells me is true, at least one other person not only knows what you do, but has taken photographs. Don’t you want to tell your side of the story?”
    “I can’t tell you that. Besides, I left with Jacob on Friday.”
    “Really? Does that put you on the outs with the group?”
    She shifted uncomfortably. I decided to take a stab at something.
    “What are you afraid of, Sammy? Has someone threatened you for leaving that night?”
    “No!” she said, betraying herself with her vehemence, and catching herself at it. “If anyone could scare me, would I be sitting out here talking to you?”
    “You’re not even afraid of the guy in the goat’s mask?”
    She turned white, a startling contrast to her hair and clothing. She turned to Jacob, her eyes brimming with tears. “You told her that? You asshole! Don’t you ever speak to me again!”
    She jumped up from the table and would have run into the house, but I was quicker and stronger—I grabbed her by the wrist.
    “Let go of me, you bitch!”
    “Apologize to the guy who may be the only real friend you have, and maybe I will.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “Look Sammy, if you want to have a cuss-out, you should know you’re up against a pro. You’re not going to shock me—not with bad manners, witchcraft, tantrums—and not at all with foul language.”
    I hadn’t noticed that Jacob had moved up out of his chair. He put an arm around her. “Please let her go,” he said to me.
    I shrugged and let her go. She crumpled up into his arms, crying on his shoulder. Twice in one day, I thought. Maybe I really was the meanest reporter in town.
    “I’m sorry, Miss Kelly,” Jacob said quietly. “I owe Sammy an apology, too. This whole