The Weaver

by Heather Kindt

  Today, Laney walked alongside Dennis on the way to the visitor center. He was a captain on the lacrosse team, but their discussions never veered in the direction of Jason.

  “Richard is the coolest professor and senior citizen I’ve ever met.” Dennis took a swig from his water bottle before attaching it to some type of carabineer on his belt loop.

  Laney nodded.

  Besides his shocking red hair, Dennis’s height stood out as a prominent feature. “The college he taught at last year must wish they’d paid him a suitcase full of money to stay.”

  “What do you mean?” She froze. Her feet rooted to the dock as her thoughts swirled. “Richard told me he’s taught at Madison for years.” The conversation about age from the day in Salem reappeared, crystal clear in Laney’s mind.

  “Nah, this is his first year. I’m a history major, so I should know. Only Dell and Shoemaker have been here since my freshman year. For some reason there’s a lot of turnover in the department. I guess we’re a rowdy bunch.”

  “Oh.” Why would Richard lie to her and think she wouldn’t find out? Her questions about William, about Jonas, and about herself popped around in her head. Maybe she couldn’t trust Richard in the way she believed she could just moments before.

  Reaching the steps of the visitor center, Richard gave the group a brief history of the ship nicknamed Old Ironsides. He told them to explore the visitor center and the vessel but to be on the main deck at one o’clock for a cannon demonstration.

  Laney and William wandered through the front door. Her mind drifted miles away from her current location. She glanced at the displays, not taking in any of the information.

  “You seem distracted.” William woke her from her thoughts. He took both of her hands and placed his forehead against hers lowering his voice. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine.” She opened her hands, releasing his one finger at a time. “I’m going to find the restroom.”

  Rounding a corner, she saw Richard reading a display about the restoration of the ship. The struggle over trust battled in her mind.

  Laney checked to make sure William wasn’t in sight. “Do you have a couple of minutes, Professor?” She was still unsure if she even wanted to talk to him.

  A group of elementary students entered the front door and proceeded to race to the hands-on exhibits.

  “Yes, but let’s go outside.” He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “You have to love the exuberance of eight-year-olds.”

  The wind carried the smell of salt and fish and formed white caps on the choppy waves that hit the sides of the ship. The modern skyline of a city filled with skyscrapers was an odd backdrop for the historical vessel. They found a bench on the side of the building, providing a little bit of shelter from the nagging wind. Looking at the picnic tables a few feet away, Laney knew they had a limited amount of time before the children infiltrated their space again.

  “Richard, will you tell me the truth?” If he answered her first questions honestly, then she would continue.

  His lips were set in a thin line. “Delaney, I always tell you the truth. It hurts me to think you’d think I’d answer in any other way.”

  Laney gritted her teeth, but maybe he’d answer differently if he knew he was caught. “I want to know how long you’ve taught at Madison.”

  “That’s an easy question. This is my first year.” His response caught her off-guard; she expected another lie. Something behind his eyes revealed an inward fear, creeping slowly to the forefront. He stood there with the face of a respected professor, but something inside Laney cried out wolf.

  “I have a very good memory.” She held his gaze, refusing to let him get away.

  “I was afraid of that.” He stood up and walked over to the closest picnic table, sitting down to face her. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. His attempt to grasp at words was extremely uncharacteristic. “I had no intention of misleading you. You weren’t ready and it was obvious when we talked at the Gables.”

  “Why are you here?”

  Richard paced the sidewalk, glancing around the edge of the building. He had his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. His face twisted as he clutched something in his pocket.

  At last, he sat down on the bench next to her and removed the object. “This is my reason for being.”

  The gold ring lay in the middle of his palm, emblem side up. Embedded ivory formed a skull in the deep black obsidian. The ring he mentioned at the Gables. Had she found the gate between the two worlds?

  When she reached out to touch it, Richard closed his fingers over the ring. “It’s not for a Weaver’s hands to touch.”

  “I don’t understand.” Laney wanted to study the ring, just like she was able to inspect William’s.

  “When William . . .” Richard drew his eyes in, seeming to try to gage her reaction.

  She had a pretty good poker face, but she knew the light in her eyes at the mention of his name gave her away.

  He took a deep breath, nodding and squaring his shoulders. “When William and Jonas came to our world, I helped them adjust. I’m a Translator, and my job is to translate this strange world for the characters that enter.”

  At last, Laney pieced everything together. Richard knew too much. He lied about his time at the college and he was probably the reason she was enrolled in a senior-level class as a freshman.

  “Your ring is like mine, like Hawthorne’s, like . . . ” She stopped, not wanting to reveal the other Weavers, or how close her relationship was with William.

  “Like William’s?” Richard raised his eyebrows. “His job as a Watcher is to stay close to you and protect you.” He rolled the ring over in his hand. “My father passed it down to me, and it was passed down to him from his mother. It’s the tool of a Translator and is handed over generation to generation. Our job is to impart our knowledge of this world through the ring. It is meant to provide a peace of mind and prevent madness.”

  “How does it work? A skull seems like a strange symbol for peace and sanity.” But, the thought of a ring being magical seemed to fit perfectly into her new reality. The stones held onto their own energy.

  “When a character is about to enter our world, I locate the Gate Keeper. I’m there for the passage, which is usually held in a remote location far from modernity — a secret ceremony, so to speak. The character is usually unconscious when they arrive, so I slip my ring on their finger. The transfer takes several minutes, but the character is left with the knowledge he or she needs to survive in this world.”

  “The ring transfers information about our world to them?” Laney felt like she was moving from fantasy to science fiction.

  “Essentially, that’s the case. Of course, the characters keep their personalities and purpose, but they know how to speak and fit in with this society. The character’s own stone, whether he is a Watcher or an Ender, keeps him grounded in his purpose here.”

  “Are the Enders that come out ever monsters?” She knew the answer, but wanted to know more about how these creatures remained undetected.

  “Yes, but usually they stick to the dark places. That’s why we always hear about monster sightings. People who claim to have seen Big Foot and the Loch Ness Monster might not be so off base. And these monsters are not always Enders. Some Weavers are in love with their monsters. Look at Shelley. Imagine her world without Frankenstein.”

  A few of the school children ran over, claiming their spots at the picnic tables, so Richard and Laney started up the path. Richard gazed at the antique ship in front of them and stopped. William would be worried, but she had a few more questions.

  “How many Weavers have you worked with?” It must be tiring. Even if there were only a small amount of Weavers, he probably had to travel the country and the world translating.

  “You’re my second.” His answer surprised her, but then again, her condition was rare. “We stay within a family of Weavers, just like Translators stay in a family. In my lifetime, th
ere was one Weaver before you.”

  “Grady.” It was something she’d known for a while but had never openly admitted to herself. It made sense. His book, Gram, Eleanor — the pieces were all there. “That’s how you knew my grandmother, Rebecca. You translated this world for her.”

  “She entered this world alone. Your grandfather’s antagonist was depression itself.” He reached down, picked up a pebble, and threw it into the waves below. “Funny to have a mood as an Ender. It tried to follow Rebecca, to end Grady’s book in despair, but your grandmother’s love for him kept it out of his life.”

  A cannon fired on the ship, alerting them to the demonstration they were missing. Laney spotted William gazing out over the stern. Her mind drifted miles away as she headed up the ramp to the Constitution. She had so many more questions for Richard, but knew she had to get back to William. Protecting Jason from Jonas was her main priority and she needed to know how.

  “I’m going to help Richard clean out the van.” She let go of William’s hand when they arrived back at campus after the trip.

  William grabbed a trash bag from the front seat. “Then I’ll help, too.”

  “You’ve still got to go into Salem to pick up your tux for tomorrow night.” Laney reached under a seat to unearth a coffee cup. “I’m pretty sure they close at five. You’d better get going.”

  William passed her the trash bag. “You’re right. I almost forgot. I’ll see you tonight.” He leaned his forehead against hers as she willed his lips to her lips. When he didn’t kiss her, she made a mental note to work on her power of mental manipulation a little harder in her free time.

  Richard bent over the dashboard, recording the mileage on a clipboard. Somehow, he knew Laney was still there. “You’d better get going or you’ll miss dinner.” His tone told her he didn’t plan on discussing their situation any further.

  “We need your help. William doesn’t know how to get Jonas back into the story. He’ll kill my friend Jason if we don’t do something.” She placed her hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her.

  “I’m not allowed to interfere. Translators are to remain neutral. My father impressed this on me time and time again.” He turned around and climbed up into the van, pulling out another trash bag.

  “For some reason I thought you liked me.” Laney frowned as he climbed back out. It sounded pitiful, but she had to try something.

  “I do like you.” He sighed and carried the trash to the dumpster. She followed like a pesky child. His resolve slipped in his silence. “I’ll tell you one thing, and you’d better hope I don’t get in trouble.”

  “Anything will help. We don’t have much to go on and I know our time’s almost up.”

  “Perhaps you believe that you need to finish the book.”

  Her recent late nights hitting her head against the writer’s block flashed through her mind.

  “That isn’t going to help. You have to find the Gate Keeper. You’ll find him nearby because it’s his duty to stay near the characters.” Richard’s face seemed riddled with guilt, like a child who had just done something extremely naughty.

  “How will I know it’s him if he looks like everyone else?” The thought of searching through hundreds of college students and professors, not knowing what she was looking for, sounded daunting.

  “He will have the ring of a Gate Keeper. His ring possesses the power to transport. It’s similar to your pendant and my ring.”

  “Will the Gate Keeper be able to tell me how to get rid of Jonas?” She didn’t want to go through all the effort only to hit another wall.

  “Neutrality is his way, like the Translator, but he may be able to tell you more about his own role.” Richard climbed back up into the van. “Do you want a ride to the dining hall?”

  “No.” Laney knew their conversation was done. “I think I’ll walk.”

  Watching the van round the corner behind Taylor Hall, Laney thought about ways to strategically find the Gate Keeper. Maybe she could go door to door and ask to inspect hands. She’d probably be thrown out of school for acting crazy. They needed some type of school function where they could look at lots of hands without drawing attention. Then it came to her — Manor Hill.

  Chapter 18

  The mirror reflected a girl whom Laney didn’t recognize. Her long, black spaghetti-strapped dress fit perfectly around the contours of her body. Her plain brown hair was curled, perfectly framing her face. The make-up, applied by an expert hand, hid her imperfections, and the stunning antique necklace lay on her chest as the centerpiece of it all. She gasped at the work of Missy’s hands and her roommate smiled, proud of her workmanship. All of it — the borrowed dress, the painted-on face, the hair that suddenly resembled the locks on a shampoo commercial — was almost too much to take. Only William’s necklace kept Laney grounded, intent on her mission that night.

  William didn’t remember the Gate Keeper when he entered the world. The force of the passage had knocked him unconscious, so the Gate Keeper’s ring was their only clue, and they planned to find it at Manor Hill.

  Around seven-thirty, there was a knock on the door. Laney’s heart beat rapidly, picturing William in the hallway. Missy rushed to open the door and Brian stepped through. His skin, tanner than usual even though it was the middle of the winter, emphasized his golden hair. He looked great in his tuxedo, and as usual, he knew it. He took a pink corsage out from behind his back and Missy beamed. Slipping it on her wrist, it added to her glow. She was stunning.

  Ten minutes later, another knock on the door sent Laney’s heart into overdrive again. She reached for the door this time and William stood there with a single rose in his hand. Her eyes took in every inch of the perfection before her. His black tux made his eyes stand out beyond their usual amazing shade. His hair, tied back in a band, revealed his jaw line, which dropped at the sight of Laney.

  She could hardly speak. Swallowing hard, she managed to whisper a single word. “William.”

  He reached for her hand and placed it on his chest. His heart rate contended with hers. She smiled, thinking of his words by the bonfire. Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to her skin. She longed for their first kiss.

  “Are you two kids ready to go?” Brian held the keys to Missy’s car in his hand.

  The four of them drove in Missy’s red convertible, which she’d offered, knowing that William only had a motorcycle. Brian waited for them to step into the hallway and then reached for Missy’s hand as he led her down the hall.

  The white twinkle lights covered every tree on the Manor Hill mansion’s property and flickered like little fireflies having their own party among the barren boughs. Laney lifted her head to peer out the car window at what must truly be a fairytale. When they left Madison’s parking lot, she’d laid her head on William’s chest and refused to move until the lights demanded her attention. His chest moved in a chuckle at the sight of her mouth hanging open. Getting lost in the dream of the night seemed impossible to avoid. Now she knew how Cinderella felt when she arrived at the ball, minus the pumpkin coach and mice, of course.

  In the grand hall, Laney dragged William to the walls to point out the hand-carved woodwork. She told him the history of the paintings, which portrayed the former proud owners of the estate. She ignored the rumbling in her stomach as they went in and out of each room, taking in piece after piece of history. Before entering the study, William slipped his hand around her waist and redirected her towards the hall.

  “Your love for history excites me because I know it’s the reason I exist, but I think we both need something to eat.”

  She didn’t protest, because he was right.

  The food tasted as amazing as the mansion looked. The small round tables dotted half of the grand hall, leaving the remaining half for dancing. A small jazz band played a tune that Laney didn’t recognize, but her mind remained too excited to concentrate on it anyway. It was overwhelming: the breathtaking mansion, the lights providing an unforgettable atmosphere, an
d William — always William. She gazed at the man in front of her and everything else faded into the background.

  “You are so beautiful.” William reached across the table to take her hands in his. They felt so warm, so perfect, like they were made to fit in hers. “Would you like to dance?”

  Her smile answered his question, and she stood up to walk with him to the dance floor. The dancing half of the room held a majority of the students. They squeezed into a spot and she put her arms around his neck as he slid his hands around her waist. Missy danced with Brian nearby. In this one moment in time, it was possible to believe that everything was perfect.

  After a couple of dances, William took Laney’s hand and led her to a high arched doorway that opened onto a balcony. He slid off his tuxedo jacket and placed it on her shoulders.

  “I wanted a few moments alone with you before we really set to work.” William turned his face toward the ocean. The intermittent breeze lifted the wisps of his hair around his face. His words brought reality into their fantasy world. Life wasn’t perfect. Jonas was close by, Jason’s life was in danger, and they had to find the Gate Keeper.

  They descended the stairs to the dormant gardens below. On a small veranda overlooking an ice-covered pond, William stopped. Laney braced herself for the conversation that would ruin her evening, but instead William took her face in his hands. He leaned towards her and gently kissed her lips. His mouth felt soft on hers, but then the kiss increased its intensity, drawing her in to him. A feeling shot through every part of Laney’s body that she was sure only existed when you kissed your soul mate. Her kiss with Jason was nothing compared to this one. She withdrew for a slight moment only to catch her breath. William’s eyes showed her that he felt the same connection. He didn’t have to lean as far this time because she pulled herself even closer to him and her arms were around his neck. The heat from his body drew her into him, with the night air attacking them from all sides. His lips finally pulled away, his face reflected in the moonlight.