“I’d have to agree with you on that, bunic. What have you been doing lately? Figured you moved back to Romania?” Avery briefly hugged the composed, elder, man.
Cosmin tilted his head, looking up to the right, as though searching for an answer to Avery’s question in the heavens. “Ah, Romanie – sounds tempting, but no. Well, wish I could say, things have been calm, but, I’ve experienced more…more uneventful days than the recent ones,” he said, scanning Avery.
“Mmm, I hear you,” Avery said, being able to relate to his grandfather’s sentiments.
“So, you’re in, La Bayadere?” Cosmin queried.
“Yes sir. I’ve been here for three years now – on and off!”
“Well, that I know, but I’m asking if you’re, here – as in, here. You kids are never around. I only hear that this one’s visiting, and that one moved back, but never see you all. Kinda like, bloody unicorns and Big Foot!”
“Ah, ha, ha – right, right, like Big Foot and unicorns, eh? I officially moved from Texas to be closer to business in Louisiana – Emery’s still in Texas, and I visit often – just got back from Houston as a matter of fact,” Avery informed him.
“Good, good. Business is good for Oil Corps, as usual?” Cosmin asked.
“As good as it can be for now, we’ll have to wait and see how things go,”
“You know, fiul in this business, you’ll soon realize on one day you could be soaring high and the next – you’re in the ruts, at the mercy of the markets.” Cosmin said.
“Yep – that’s the truth, but it’s important to have a back-up plan or two, since we know that one day our businesses might be threatened by, uh – more sustainable, eco-friendly sources of energy,” Avery added.
“You believe that horse pucky? Come on, you know better than that?” Cosmin jested.
“Don’t know if I’d call it horse pucky, sir. We’ve seen things happen with the economy that many never expected – expect the unexpected!” Avery, defended.
“Well, fiul, I could’ve seen the economy thing coming for miles! But, that’s a risk we take in the oil business – in any business. Big business, big risks, right?” Cosmin said, with a smirk, winking at the, overzealous young man who stood before him.
“Sure,” Avery responded.
“I hate to break up your conversation, but I think Justin got new information from the detectives. He’s heading over to his place right now – Caroline and I are driving over to his house,” Anya interrupted.
“I promised Justin to stop by tomorrow, so, I’ll see him then,” Avery said, without delay.
“Goodness! What a dreadful day – you two should get going, don’t inhale this smoke longer than you have to – you’ll get pneumonia!” Anya commanded.
“Wait – I’ll follow you over to Justin’s. I have a feeling I need to be there tonight.” Cosmin said, solemnly.
“Lyublyu, oh, I hate to leave you. Come see me soon, I miss talking with you!” she said, in a shaky voice.
“I’ll be in touch soon. I need to talk to you about something that’s kinda urgent,”
“What happened to your nose?” she asked, frowning, holding her own nose.
“I uh, I bumped into the door – it was dark,” he said, rubbing the middle of his forehead.
“Hmm, you must be careful then!” she warned, hugging Avery for a few seconds, then taking off towards her car.
Caroline followed, hugging her step brother. Cosmin tipped his fedora hat, nodding at Avery, then joined the women en route to their vehicles.
Avery looked on as the cars peeled off, one following the other. He directed his attention to the charred remains of the club and in an instant, a sick feeling abounded in his stomach.
“Damn!! Poor Justin…” he said, regarding the club with sympathy. He walked towards Scatmobile, that was parked several feet ahead. The rain and smoke were in alliance, making the clouds a nasty gray, but, Avery showed no haste in sheltering from the persistent shower.
He strolled along the side walk, and was unexpectedly intercepted by an old, derelict man. The man wore dirty, tattered clothing and a stench that burned Avery’s nose. A dingy piece of rope secured his dark, stained trousers around his narrow waist, and his shirt was missing more than half the buttons, exposing his emaciated, hairy chest. Calluses on his bare gnarly feet indicated, abuse by overuse and neglect – if given a pair of shoes, they might cause more discomfort on his feet, than no shoes at all.
“Sir, sir…hold up, sir,” the man demanded.
Avery paused for a split second, then, began walking even faster in an attempt to avoid the troubled man. “Nope sorry,” Avery said.
“Sir, wait up, sir…stop!!” he persisted, now chasing Avery.
Avery slowed his pace, his eyes widened. He wiped his palms on his jeans, then his right hand reached for the left waistband of his jeans. He slowly turned around. “What do you want?” It was as though they had rehearsed it. As soon as Avery placed his hand in his pocket, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill, the man reached into his pant pocket, brandishing what seemed to be a piece of costume jewelry.
“Sir, here – this is yours,” the man declared, in a tired, raspy, voice. His bloodshot eyes looked possessed, as he held out the string of attractive stones to Avery. With the other hand, he quickly snatched the twenty-dollar bill from Avery’s fingers, clutching it with a death grip.
“Nah, you keep it, I don’t need your stuff. It has more use to you than it has for me!” Avery said.
“No sir! This yours, this here is yours. Take it!!” he said, insisting that Avery take the jewelry.
Avery hesitated for a bit but wanted to put an end to the potentially dangerous situation and decided to take what seemed to be, a necklace or wrist band.
“Alright, for me huh? Okay then, give it here,” Avery said, reaching out his hand. The man tossed the piece of jewelry into Avery’s palm and without delay, hurried off in a limp, as fast as he could, to the opposite side of the street where, Club Hypnotic’s remains continued to sear. He was shooed off by some policemen when he tried to enter the yellow barricaded area.
“Gawd, these people!” Avery said, shaking his head, as he tucked the trinket into his pocket, continuing towards his vehicle. Laurie had moved back into her chateau that evening, and although it had only been hours since they were apart, he had a burning desire to see her.
The eerie coincidences that connected them with the spirit woman reshaped the way he saw himself, and his beliefs. He thought he had put all of that stuff behind him when he was a teen, he was even convinced that his visit with Baba Yaga was only a last-ditch attempt to fixing a problem that messed him up at infancy. He truly felt like, a reject; unwanted by the woman who created him. What kind of mother leaves an innocent child behind in the way his father, Emery described it? But, he was beginning to believe that things were probably more complicated than what Emery portrayed.
Avery wanted answers, and his rising suspicion about Laurie having some role to play in his past grew – but, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. The fact that Laurie was an orphan with no ties to her family put a strange twist on things. Now, she wasn’t just his cousin’s ex, it appeared that she came into his life perhaps, to help him slay one of his many caged demons that ever so often, escaped his head, threating to take him down.
When he got into Scatmobile, his phone rang, he answered without delay. “Yep,”
“Hi…Avery?”
“Yes, who’s this?” he asked, shuffling around in the driver seat, adjusting the rearview mirror, then fastening his seat belt.
“It’s Minka.”
Laurie
The local television stations plastered the tragic story of Club Hypnotic’s demise all over the news. Laurie followed closely but there were no new developments.
She empathized with Justin, losing his club the way he did was tragic. She walked over to the iHome music system and looked at it while pouting, “Geez, what’s up with you! Why don�
��t you play!” she huffed at the oval electronic appliance, as though it could understand her frustrations.
The time spent with Avery in La Bayadere could only be described as, surreal. The things that transpired and surfaced, still hadn’t sunken in and she wanted a long break from it all.
According to Sterling Labs, she was closely related to the person who had left the strand of hair behind – without a doubt. She was family to whoever, or whatever was in her home that night. The lonely straggler in her, who craved family was elated to know she was connected to someone. What if?
It was impossible and impractical for anyone to have been in her house, much less, leave a strand of hair behind with DNA that matched hers. But, the fact was – it was in her home, she found the hair on the floor, herself!
She walked over to the old Morbier, grandfather clock, listening to the deliberate ticking of its second hand. It was the only thing that showed signs of life in the chateau, other than herself. It ticked away with urgency, akin to the heart beating in her chest. She passed her hand on the wooden body of the old clock, admiring its steadfastness. Somehow, the lifeless structure came to mean so much to her, and in return, she assigned to it the relevance that one would give to another well deserving human being.
She caressed the clock, patted it, and proceeded to the back door that exposed the assembly of thick, mysterious trees. They huddled together like battle buddies, anticipating an oncoming assault. Laurie pondered the fate of the massive Ceiba tree, the one that contributed to her uneasiness, the one that somehow left its mark on her living room floor. Should she dare cut down a tree that had been there for at least, two hundred years on this planet? Who was she to make that decision? As much as it terrified her thinking about having another encounter with, Marie-Claire, and smelling the dreadful perfumed foliage, she couldn’t bring herself to destroy something that big, that old, that majestic – it would be like, committing murder. She couldn’t do it, not yet.
Laurie ruminated on her plan of attack. Learning that Avery saw the ghost of Marie-Claire throughout his childhood was sobering. At first, she thought it to be a coincidence; maybe he was just a kid having nightmares, but after comparing the details and description of the ghost with, Avery’s succubus – there were no coincidences, but only what seemed like some sort of twisted plan that fate had dealt them. This troubled her beyond anything she could’ve imagined; now, she knew she wasn’t crazy.
She also remembered Mr. Pierre’s advice – have a cleansing ritual to help the spirit of the dead woman cross over. “Mr. Laborteaux, murderer and necromancer, used to live here.” She shuddered upon rehashing those words. She stepped away from the tall glass window and took a seat on the white leather sofa. There was no music to accompany her, since she had left the system on while she was away and it had gotten damaged by a power surge. The silence was excruciating, her screaming thoughts grew louder in the quite house.
“Who is he?” she said, softly, hugging her body, as she caressed her arms that were covered by the grey, fitted, long-sleeved sweater. She tried looking up information on Avery and his family, and found nothing – everything published about them was, so rudimentary, so hush-hush. He had plans to introduce her to his mother and the rest of the family and she had grown quite curious about seeing them, since there was always something preventing them from meeting. Laurie sprang to her feet to fetch her phone – a loud, gong startled her as soon as she picked it up. She chuckled to herself, every time the urge to call Avery nudged her, he’d beat her to it, it was becoming a common phenomenon between them – she could almost predict when he was going to call. It was a message from Avery; he was about ten minutes away from her home.
She pursed her lips, as a thought that silenced her before resurfaced. Who is Avery’s biological mother, and where is she? She remembered him mentioning never meeting her, but, he never gave details about the events of her leaving. All she knew was that Avery’s mother left his father when he was an infant, only a few days old. If Avery claimed to have photos of his mother, then, why hadn’t he made an effort to find her? With his prominence, his reach was far – financially, he was in the position to hire the best detectives and genealogist to track her down. There was something more to it; something he wasn’t telling her.
After the past few weeks – there wasn’t much that could scare or stun her. The evening thunderstorms had sullied their plans to break into the shed behind her chateau. She was growing impatient and tired of the obstacles that seem to pop up conveniently, sabotaging her efforts to find out about, Marie Claire and Mr. Laborteaux.
“Damn rain!” she fussed, assessing the weather and the possibility of postponing the grand opening of the shed, once more.
A massive down pour drenched the chateau, obscuring the view from the glass windows to the outdoors. The lights flickered simultaneously, as the air condition unit kicked in, with a high pitch whir, pushing frigid air into the open space.
Bejeweled
“How’d everything go?” Laurie asked, folding her arms, looking on in anticipation as he peeled off his wet shoes and jacket with care. His uneasiness hinted that he was uncomfortable showing up in a wet mess at her door.
He winced, escaping from the jacket’s grasp; it got stuck just a bit, before he could free his arms from its hold. “Man, not good. The entire club was burnt to the ground; everything’s gone – everything!” he declared, as though the loss was his.
“Gosh, it must be really tough for him…but, I’m sure he’ll bounce back with all the support he has. So, word is, the fire was an accident?” she asked.
“Perhaps – I’ll find out the details from Justin tomorrow, he’s with mom, Caroline, and bunic – Cosmin. Hopefully, they’ll help take his mind off stuff tonight.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know,”
“Appreciate it, thanks,” he said.
“Now, before you catch a cold, you’d better get dried up – I’ll get you a towel – eh, my t-shirts won’t fit you – but, I have a big ole, comfy robe, if you’re interested?” she offered.
“Ahhh, sorry, I uh, shouldn’t have come here like this, I’ll be really quick, promise–”
“Don’t be silly! If you don’t mind hanging out in my robe for thirty minutes or so, I’ll put your clothes in the dryer; they’ll be good in no time –” she said, smiling.
“Okay – where’s that big ole, comfy robe!”
“You can get changed in that bathroom – I’ll grab it for you,” she said, pointing to a tall, cherrywood, stained door across the room.
“Great!” he said, smiling. He headed towards the bathroom where he shelled off his clothing, surrendering them to Laurie. He awaited the oversized, white, French-terry robe that promised to keep him warm, while his clothing dried.
Laurie hurried into to kitchen clutching the bundle of wet, heavy fabric that seeped into the side of her clothes. She exited through a narrow, tall door that led to the dreary laundry room. She hadn’t replaced the marble flooring that tilted with age and bore a long noticeable crack, creeping from north to south; it didn’t seem to bug her that much either.
The door closed slowly behind her, diming the visibility in the cold room. Splattering rain drops hit the lone, high window and sounded like, tiny pebbles flicking onto a windshield. The large, tired vent above groaned and grunted like and old man with ailing lungs – the scene always left her questioning her decision to keep the room in its original state.
As she yanked on the dryer handle, opening the door, the sound of glass hitting the old marble tile got her attention. She scanned the floor around her feet and spotted a string of colorful beads. At once, she stuffed the clothes into the unit with a sheet of fabric softener she’d plucked from a box on the nearby shelf. She grabbed the strange beads and bumped the start button on the dryer without delay.
Laurie held the piece of jewelry with both hands, bringing it closer to her face; a charming string of semi-transparent stones, green,
blue, red, and amber in color. The beads were oval shaped, and each about, half an inch in size. Between the stones were small, gold colored emblems that looked, hand carved. One was a crucifix, the other a star, and the next, an arrow – all encased in a circle of gold metal. The other peculiar symbols which dangled from the band stirred her curiosity. She walked closer to the door, where the light afforded her to form a better opinion of the trinket – it was like nothing she had ever seen. The stones sparkled tremendously as the light hit them. There was a small, peculiar, lone spread eagle at the opposite end of the emerald green stone. It almost seemed, misplaced among the colorful pattern of matching stones and dangling, gold emblems.
She paused, turned around, and freed a bundled of white fabric from a hook behind the old door. She hugged the soft fabric, then shifted her attention to the ornate jewelry while biting her lips. The rumbling dryer and grunting overhead vent were in a race to see who could wrangle and gripe the most, and Laurie wasn’t having any of it; she left the room, shutting out the droning noise behind her.
Laurie walked back to the living area and knocked on the adjoining bathroom’s door – she wanted answers about the feminine looking piece of jewelry and an explanation of its origin.
“Hey, Doll – I was beginning to think you forgot about me!” he said, grinning, peeping from behind the door.
“I’d never do that,” she said, smiling, holding the robe out. Avery took it from her hand and proceeded to drape it around his body.
She held the piece of jewelry in her hand and looked at it longer, the more she studied it, the more enchanted she became by its splendor. Avery appeared from behind the door, comfortably wrapped, with his big curls, laying limp on his head. His wet hair appeared darker and a bit elongated, and he almost looked like a different person. He approached Laurie and hugged her, he pressed his lips against hers and moaned, contentedly.
“How do I look?” he asked, grinning.
Reclamation Page 10
