by M. E. Eadie
***
The day progressed quietly--everyone staying out of Grizzelda’s black wake--but eventually the time came when Colin had to remind her about soccer. Tonight was their first game and they were back to having to get permission to leave.
“Auntie,” said Colin, as he approached her hesitantly. She was staring out a window, fixating on the statue. The only things left to be carved on the statue were the arms and the head. “Could I talk to you?”
Her entire back stiffened. Was she reinforcing herself, or was she furious? Colin didn’t know what to expect, but when she turned to face him, her hardened, bitter face made him want to step back. He couldn’t help but think about what Grandfather Thunder had said. It was as though a sheet of steel had descended about his aunt’s face, but deep underneath, in her eyes, glistened a faint sensitive spark, but then the shadow inside her extinguished it. A dark cloud seemed to grow around her. He held his place, but reached out with his mind to see if he could slip beneath her defenses. He had done it with things like water; why couldn’t he do it with his aunt’s defenses? If the Nix could get into her, maybe he could get it out in a similar manner. In a moment, he felt himself begin to slip, to become small … then without warning he was violently jerked backwards.
His aunt hesitated, wanting him to investigate, pleading for him to do so, to root out was inside her, to expose it, but when she felt him slipping in, the Shadow Nix panicked taking control. It was about to strike out at Colin when Grizzelda acted. She could not bare the idea of her sister’s child being harmed. “Don’t you dare!” hissed Grizzelda bitterly. “Do you think you’re the only one who can see things?” It was better to hurt the boy this way than to have the thing in her hurt him. “Do you think you’re the only one who was ever left alone? You don’t think I miss him to? Well, wake up!” Her face twisted tortuously. “You and Spike can go to your little game tonight, and every night for all I care. From the Things, you will have nothing to worry about, but if you try to sneak about anymore, without telling me, I cannot--will not--be held accountable for what they will do to you! Do you understand me?” She stabbed him through with her piercing eyes.
The last statement hit with such force, such vehemence that all Colin could do was nod his head.
“Good,” she said then swirled past him to disappear, absorbed by the house. He tried to keep his balance as her black wake nearly knocked him over. Strange, he listened to the sound of his aunt stalking away, was she crying? He thought about what Grandfather Thunder had said about the house being built on a fault line, about his aunt not being herself, and wondered who she was.
