Witch Baby

Author:Francesca Lia Block
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780440849865
Publisher: HarperTrophy
Published: 1991-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Angel Wish

No one at the cottage paid much attention to Witch Baby when she got back from Santa Cruz. They didn’t even mention how worried they had been when she had disappeared. Everyone was too busy working on My Secret Agent Lover Man’s new movie, Los Diablos, about the glowing blue radioactive ball.

So Witch Baby skated to the Spanish bungalow where Valentine and Ping Chong Jah-Love lived. Raphael lived with them, but he was almost always at the cottage with Cherokee.

Wind chimes hung like glass leaves from the porch, and the rosebush Ping had planted bloomed different colored roses on Valentine’s, Ping’s and Raphael’s birthdays—one rose for each year. Now there were white roses for Ping. Inside, the bungalow was like a miniature rain forest. Valentine’s wood carvings of birds and ebony people peered out among the ferns and small potted trees. Ping’s shimmering green weavings were draped from the ceiling. Witch Baby sat in the Jah-Love rain forest bungalow watching Ping with her bird-of-paradise hair, kohl-lined eyes, coral lips, batik sarong skirt and jade dragon pendants, sewing a sapphire blue Chinese silk shirt for Valentine.

“Baby Jah-Love,” Ping Chong sang. “Why are you so sad? Once I was sad like you. And then I met Valentine in a rain forest in Jamaica. He appeared out of the green mist. I had been dreaming of him and wishing for him forever. When I met Valentine I wasn’t afraid anymore. I knew that my soul would always have a reflection and an echo and that even if we were apart—and we were for a while in the beginning—I finally knew what my soul looked and sounded like. I would have that forever, like a mirror or an echoing canyon.”

Ping stopped, seeing Witch Baby’s eyes. She knew Witch Baby was thinking about Raphael.

“Sometimes our Jah-Love friends fool us,” she said. “We think we’ve found them and then they’re just not the one. They look right and sound right and play the right instrument, even, but they’re just not who we are looking for. I thought I found Valentine three times before I really did. And then there he was in the forest, like a tree that had turned into a man.”

Witch Baby wanted to ask Ping how to find her Jah-Love angel. She knew Raphael was not him, even though Raphael had the right eyes and smile and name. She knew how he looked—the angel in her dream—but she didn’t know how to find him. Should she roller-skate through the streets in the evenings when the streetlights flicker on? Should she stow away to Jamaica on a cruise ship and search for him in the rain forests and along the beaches? Would he come to her? Was he waiting, dreaming of her in the same way she waited and dreamed? Witch Baby thought that if anyone could help, it would be Ping, with her quick, small hands that could create dresses out of anything and make hair look like bunches of flowers or garlands of serpents, cables to heaven.

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