My parents. I hadn’t thought of them in a while and that fact had me suddenly feeling a bit guilty. I was thirteen when it happened. We had been to visit my grandparents, my mother’s parents and were on our way home. It was dark and raining, well storming… Wind and rain that came down in sheets. No thunder, no lightning just the awful howling wind that when it would gust would force the car sideways along the narrow highway. My father hit a patch of water and had hydroplaned, the car spinning and spinning before crashing nose first into the Jersey barrier. My parents had been killed on impact, I had been knocked unconscious, my leg had been broken and I had a deep cut up under my hair on the side of my head that had required stitches but I had survived.
It had taken years of therapy to come to grips with my survivor’s guilt, and I still had a bout with it on occasion, but it had been a long while. The familiar itch of guilt started along the underside of my breast bone as I pulled open the door to my building, making sure it was secure behind me I pressed the button to the elevator. My phone began buzzing in my purse. I gave an exasperated sigh as I finally dug it out, answering without looking at it first.
“Hello?”
“Gracie-lyn!” I smiled.
“Hey Roxy, what’s up?” I asked.
“You okay girlfriend? You sound fried.”
“I feel kind of fried, I didn’t sleep well.” The elevator doors opened and I ignored them, if I boarded now I would lose the call.
“Oh well damn, I was going to see if you would come and see me read tonight, but just listening to you makes me want to crawl into bed and never come out again. Next one?” she asked and I felt guilty again for an entirely different reason. It had been a long while since I had gone to see Roxy read any of her stuff, she was a good writer, poetry mostly. I was torn but my exhaustion finally won out.
“I swear to you on heaven on high I will be there for the next one, I had to skip a dinner with investor’s I’m so tired, I just can’t do it.” My shoulders slumped.
“Next time Gracie, get some sleep.” Concern colored her tone a darker shade of gray through the line and I felt a pang of disappointment, mostly in myself, I was letting Jared down, I was letting Roxy down again, I silently sighed.
“I promise Rox, I’m really, really sorry.” I moaned into the phone.
“Hey don’t sweat it. I still love you. Next week.” Her voice was cheerful but tremulous with some other undefined emotion, it sure as shit wasn’t excitement and pretty much just affirmed that I was indeed letting her down. Damn it.
“Next week.” I affirmed weakly. We said our good byes and I punched the button to the elevator harder than I needed to. The doors slid open and I boarded, hitting my floor with less force.
God damn it I was worthless today! Of course it was becoming a regular thing as of late. Who am I kidding? I’ve been a waste of space from the day I was born.
Woah…
Where in the Hell had that thought come from? I swallowed hard and exited the elevator, I pulled my keys from my purse where I’d stashed them while excavating for my phone and unlocked my apartment door, shutting it firmly behind me.
Sanctuary! The word popped into my head the way Quasimodo had cried it out in the Disney movie and I laughed to myself. I threw the deadbolts into the locked position and slid the chain home. You could never be too secure, right?
I kicked off my modern day torture devices and stooped, setting them on the shoe rack by the door. Granted they were pumps and the heels on them were relatively short but after being in them all day they still hurt. I pressed a thumb into the arch of my stocking covered foot and groaned in pleasure. I gave the other similar treatment, hopping up and down on one foot in my tiny foyer.
“Okay enough of that.” I said aloud to no one in particular. I went through the usual motions, key in bowl on entry way table, coat and purse on back of door, phone on charger in kitchen and set to ring rather than silent. I stood in my kitchen and came to the unequivocal conclusion that Damn… my life was boring.
I fixed some curry chicken salad out of some left over baked chicken breast in the fridge. Mayo, curry powder, chicken, mix, throw in some golden raisins and plop the mixture onto a bed of Romaine and voila, a dinner I didn’t have to think about for longer than two minutes in my tired state.
I flopped onto my gray suede couch and ate mechanically with my feet up on the large square leather ottoman that doubled as a coffee table and extra linen storage… wait, wouldn’t that mean it tripled? Ottoman, coffee table, linen storage… I ticked the uses off on my fingers, well whatever! I was being neurotic. I shoved the last bite of my salad in my mouth and got up, rinsing the bowl and fork in the sink I placed them in the dishwasher and kicked it shut, heading straight for the bedroom.
I shrugged into a peach colored satin night gown that brushed the tops of my feet, ivory lace running along the hem and up the side in a Victorianesque pattern, seed beads glimmering in crystal accents here and there. The sweetheart neckline was similarly decorated with lace along the edge and a lace appliqué with more clear seed beads sewn in clusters here and there.
The nightgown made me feel pretty, sexy even, and I liked the feel of it against my skin. Sometimes I needed a boost of confidence, no matter what form or direction it came in. I plucked a tube of my Tuscan honey lotion off of my dressing table and pulled back my blankets. Crawling into bed I used a liberal amount of lotion on my winter-dry skin, legs, hands and arms. I set the tube down on my bedside table and clicked off the lamp, settling back into the cloud that resembled my bed. I must have been out the moment my head touched the pillow.
Chapter 3
It was cold, goose bumps raising on my flesh, a siren wailed and the traffic noises were far louder than they should have been inside my apartment walls. I opened my eyes and stumbled, pin wheeling my arms in the frozen air to keep myself from pitching forward… and off the edge of my building’s roof. I threw myself backwards and landed roughly on the gritty rooftop, my elbow banged painfully against the rough material and I knew I had lost some skin.
Fear fizzed through my veins like sour champagne and tears started in my eyes. What was I doing up here? How did I get up here? I looked around in confusion and picked myself up off the ground, hugging myself, teeth chattering. The access door to the roof was ajar and I bolted for it slamming it closed behind me. I leaned heavily against it and sobbed. A scream clawed its way up my throat but I clenched my lips between my teeth and wouldn’t let it free.
I dragged in deep lungful’s of air and slid down the door, crouching on the cement floor of my building’s stairwell. I don’t know however long I spent like that, but when the panic had subsided and I heard no thunder of feet on the stairs to come fetch the crazy woman on the roof I stood slowly. I was still shivering, though from adrenaline, shock or cold I couldn’t tell you. Maybe a combination of the three?
I bit down on a bitter sob and put one foot in front of the other descending the stairs quickly. My bare feet stung with cold, my hands were pins and needles where they gripped each opposite arm across my chest. I folded in on myself when I reached the door to my floor. I opened the door, a marginal crack, and peeked out. I let out a sigh of relief upon viewing the empty hall and bolted for my apartment door.
It was open, a dark crack an inch or two wide. I pushed against it and the chain caught, barring my entry. I stared at the chain in bewilderment. I didn’t understand I couldn’t comprehend… if I was out here and the door was chained from the inside… I stumbled back, the doorknob leaving my hand. The door creaked on its hinges as it swung towards me, the gap narrowing. I put my face in my hands and scrubbed away the salt from my tears. I didn’t see it, but I heard it, the sharp click and rattle of the chain as it was let loose. I brought down my hands and looked up and down the deserted hallway.
Should I call the police?
I snorted at myself in derision… and tell them what? I came to moments before taking a swan dive off my roof and I think someone i
s in my apartment? The chime on the elevator pinged and it was loud in the deserted silent hall. It galvanized me into action. I thrust open the door to my apartment and dashed inside, shutting the door tight behind me. I peered into the gloom, eyes frantically scanning the dark interior of my home for an unknown menace.
“Hello?” I whisper-shouted into the dark. I stood stock still against my front door and listened, ears straining into the dark as much as my eyes had been a moment ago. Nothing moved, no one answered me back. I lunged into my bathroom and switched on the light, the soft luminescence washing out into the hall, reaching across the little hall into my bedroom. I hit the switch inside my bedroom and the added light stretched to my little kitchen.
I still couldn’t see the corners of my living room. I darted into the kitchen and hit the light. Empty, the rest of my apartment was empty. I pulled my loose hair away from my face and behind my ears and tugged down on it until it almost hurt.
I’m awake. I let out an explosive breath and sat down on the floor right there where my little living room started. I looked at the clock on the cable box. 3:12am… I squeezed my eyes shut and rocked in place trying to process, it wasn’t going well. The only conclusion I kept coming around to was that I was seriously losing my shit. As in gone off the deep end, one flew over the cuckoo’s nest, men wearing white coats are coming to take me away certifiably lost my mind.
I sucked in a breath and held it as long as I could, then did it again, fighting the tears that were forcing their way up from deep inside of me. Finally I got up and went into my bathroom, I looked like hell. Eyes bloodshot and red rimmed from crying, hair a crazy tangled mess, blood dripping down my arm from my elbow, a few smears along the satin of my nightgown. I looked down. My feet were dirty and I was cold. I started the shower and stripped off the nightgown relegating it to my little bathroom trashcan. The blood would never come out, neither would the memories.
I got into the shower and hissed as the water stung my scrapes. I used the comb I kept in the shower caddy to work through all my tangles and grimly stayed under the hot spray until it went lukewarm and my fingers were raisins.
I got out and pulled the decorative towels off the towel bar not even caring. I looked at the raw red skin of my elbow, still oozing blood and winced, dug the antiseptic and a large band aid out of my medicine cabinet and set to work doctoring it up. I dried and braided my hair and decided I needed to do something normal, that going back to bed wasn’t going to be an option. I got dressed in form fitting jeans and a thick salmon colored cable knit sweater that hit me at mid-thigh. I pulled on brown flat heeled riding boots from the rack in the entry way and retrieved my keys, phone, purse and coat. Leaving all the lights blazing in my apartment I locked up behind myself and went to work.
Something steady, something normal. Work was just the thing.
Chapter 4
I stared down at the remains of the Viking sword on my work bench but didn’t really see it. I didn’t really see anything to be honest, I was staring off into space, which is why when Jared touched my elbow I let out a deafening shriek and damn near fell off of my stool.
“Are you all right?” he exclaimed, eyes wide, a bewildered expression pasted on his face.
“Yeah,” I tried to catch my breath and corral my racing heart. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Did you not get any sleep again?” he asked and stepped into my personal space, searching me over, cataloging my state as I did the artifacts on my bench.
“Yeah, no… I don’t know.” I shook my head as if to clear it.
“Gracelyn, what’s the matter?” he asked gently and placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him.
“I think I was sleep walking.” I answered solemnly. Jared’s brows drew together.
“Sleep walking?” he echoed.
“Yeah. I went to bed like normal and when I woke up I was on my building’s roof, just standing there.” I admitted, totally omitting the fact that I was toes over the edge poised to jump when I snapped out of things. I rubbed my arms up and down as if cold, but you can’t warm this kind of chill with a rub of your hands.
Jared sighed and took his hand back but not before tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear in what should have an uncomfortably over familiar gesture. Right now Jared was trying to be my friend more than my boss and for once I could appreciate it. I scrubbed over my face with a hand.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I was freezing so I went back inside.” I winced. “Tripped on the roof and scraped my elbow pretty good, but other than that, and being really cold I was fine. Nothing a hot shower couldn’t cure.” I was so not telling him about my temporary entrapment out in the hall. Or that the chain barring my reentry into my apartment had suddenly come loose of its own accord. This story was crazy enough.
“What’s wrong Gracelyn?” He asked gently, and I realized I was frowning.
“I’ve never slept walked in my life.” I admitted.
“Well, the project has been running out of money and it’s been very stressful for all of us. They say sleepwalking can be brought on by stress…” he was looking me over again.
“That’s probably it.” I conceded a little too quickly before changing the subject. “Speaking of money… How did the investor’s dinner go?” I asked and Jared positively beamed at me.
“Very well!” he gushed. “I wish you could have been there, perhaps it would have alleviated some of your worries. I’m happy to say that the investments we received will fund an exhibit showcasing our finds for at least a year.” I stared at him and waited for the good news, but it appeared that was it…
“What about further research and preservation efforts?” I asked and he looked taken aback.
“We’re still working on that.” He hedged and I sighed.
“So have we tapped out on the investment front? Is it time to start begging for donations?” I asked.
“Not quite yet so don’t you worry. This is just a first step.” He smiled but it wasn’t quite as bright.
I silently kicked myself for ruining his happy with the ugly reality that if we couldn’t secure more funds for research and more preservation efforts that we were pretty much sunk. Well sunk when it came to both unearthing more of the story of not only this particular raid but also about the Vikings themselves and the people they were raiding from. We would also be done when it came to maintaining the artifacts we’d already recovered for countless future generations to learn from. He knew this as well as I did, probably even better as he was the one to deal with the numbers on a daily, which included my salary.
“I’m sorry Jared.” I uttered.
“For what? Caring what happens to the history? The people you work with?” he smiled.
“No, not that, still doesn’t mean I have to piss on your parade.” I said and watched his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. I immediately recognized my mistake.
“I’m sorry Jared that was crude.” I closed my eyes and tried not to sway in my seat.
“Not at all, you’re tired. Perhaps you should take the rest of the day?” he suggested.
“No, no. I’ll just get some coffee, I’ll be fine, and I want to work.” I put on a smile that I hoped would convey everything that I wasn’t feeling. He looked suspicious but grudgingly nodded. We went over a few lab results and parted ways. Him to his office and me down to the coffee stand in the museum’s café. I needed a caffeine fix something fierce if I was going to make it through the rest of this day.
Chapter 5
I leaned back from my careful inspection of the Viking sword’s hilt and gave a low whistle.
“What is it?” Jared was coming out of his office, flipping through pages on a clipboard.
“I’m not sure yet,” I hedge, leaning in for a closer look. “I think I might be looking at runes…”
Jared leaned in over my shoulder for a closer inspection, his breath was warm on my neck and I tried not to shift in my seat. We stared at
the place on the hilt where I had been cleaning. The leather wrapping was long gone and the bare metal of the pommel which had been protected for so long was markedly less corroded than the blade. I squinted at the raised lines.
“I think you may be right.” Jared turned to look at me, our noses were almost touching and he was grinning like a fool. He stood up abruptly.
“I think you may be right!” he exclaimed.
“What could it be?” I wondered aloud, staring in wonder at the blade.
“Do your best to photograph, document and transcribe after you get it cleaned up. I know a Norse language expert who specializes in the ancient runic alphabet. As soon as you have it uncovered we can send it to them.” He was smiling and I found it terribly infectious, grinning back at him like a loon.
“Will do boss.” I murmured, stifling a yawn. Jared gave me a look over the rim of his glasses.
“Off with you, have a good weekend. The sword will be here on Monday.” He made a shooing motion with his hand.
I rolled my eyes and nodded, getting wearily to my feet. I shrugged into my pea coat and took my phone out of my purse. It was after six. They sky outside was dark already. I wound my scarf around my neck and pulled on my gloves after settling my headphones into my ears. I pressed the little button in the center of the wire and held it, a soft chime sounded in my ears and I spoke aloud.
“Call Roxanne.” My phone chirped its assent and the line began to ring as I pushed out the side door and into the alley. Thankfully there were no creepy shadows this time. The call went to voicemail and I left her a short message that I was stopping at McNaughton’s for a drink on my way home and to call me.
I let music flood my ears as I finished my walk to the little bar and eatery near my apartment. It was crowded but Tony, the bartender, waved me over to a vacant stool at the end of the bar.
Heaven, Hell & the Love In Between Page 2
