PELLO ISLAND:
A. L. JAMBOR
Copyright©AmyJambor2012
ISBN's for original single volume book
ISBN -10: 0985417021
ISBN- 13: 978-0-9854170-2-4
All rights reserved.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and scenes are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely unintentional.
The replication, uploading and distribution of this book on the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law.
Please only purchase authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Cover design by [email protected]
This book is dedicated to my sister Mary Ellen.
She loves a love story.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
I want to thank my good friend Loraine O’Connell for all her help.
She did the first edit on my manuscript.
Any mistakes in the text are mine and mine alone.
Loraine’s input has been invaluable to me.
For over forty years she has been my best friend,
and I look forward to working on my next book with her.
Preface
I am not a student of ancient history; however, I’ve enjoyed every Roman story produced by the History Channel. I’ve taken many liberties with regard to the Roman gods depicted herein in order to create a story for entertainment value.
During the course of the Pello Island stories, several Roman gods are mentioned. To enhance your reading experience, I have made a list of the gods used herein and a brief description of them.
Jupiter – King of the Gods. Thunderbolts were his weapon and his brothers were Neptune and Pluto. He was married to Juno. He was known to take mortal women by force.
Neptune – God of the Sea. Brother of Jupiter and Pluto. He was moody and arrogant. His weapon is a three pronged trident.
Juno – the Queen of the Gods. She was the goddess of women and marriage, and she was married to Jupiter.
Strenia – one of the goddesses of healing and strenuous tasks
The Parcae (Parche) – The Parcae consisted of three females who determined the destinies of human beings. The Parcae’s decisions were final and no god could interfere with their task. They were sometimes depicted as sisters, and I’ve chosen to depict them that way. Their names were:
Nona: She was the youngest and would create, or spin a life on her spindle;
Decima: She was the middle child and she determined the length of a person’s life;
Morta: She was the eldest and her scissors would cut the thread of life. She also determined the cause of death.
If you would like more information regarding Roman Mythology, the internet is a valuable resource and there are literally hundreds of websites available.
Besides the Roman gods, I’ve tried to depict the way Roman society worked, without getting too detailed. Roman fathers retained control of their daughters even after they married. In the event of her father’s death, if a woman didn’t have an uncle or brother to handle her affairs, she would need a male guardian. Some women bucked the system and ran their own businesses. More often than not, a girl was at the mercy of the men in her life.
Roman aristocrats always married within their own social sphere. They rarely married for love, and male children were prized over females. Often female babies were exposed to the elements by their fathers, who literally had the power of life or death over their offspring. Those that were allowed to live were often betrothed by the time they were eleven or twelve years of age, and could be married to men as much as twenty or thirty years older than they.
The main purpose of marriage was to produce an heir to carry on the family name and fortune. Love was reserved for one’s concubine or mistress, and wives were relegated to running the household and to teaching their daughters useful arts such as spinning and weaving which would enhance their husbands’ reputation.
The Curia Hostilia was the Roman building where the senators would meet.
Florentia was the Latin name for Florence.
Cassia
Cassia woke up with vomit in her mouth. She opened her eyes and saw unfamiliar furniture. She was on her side. She lifted her head and it stuck to the pillow. She used her arm to disengage it from her face. Thanks, Morta, she thought.
Cassia sat up and surveyed the room. Whoever occupied this space wasn’t rich. The furniture was threadbare, as was the carpet. She looked down at the T-shirt she was wearing. It was full of holes and ragged on the edges. She lifted it over her head and threw it into the corner.
As she made her way to the bathroom, she checked the drawers in the dresser. She found a bra and panties that looked fairly new. She took them into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she scrutinized the unfamiliar face in the bathroom mirror, she sighed.
“Just once, Morta, you could find me a body that took care of itself,” she said.
The face wasn’t old, but it had dark circles under the eyes and a chalklike appearance. The long hair was an unnatural shade of blond, and she could see redness under the nose, indicating some sort of drug had been snorted frequently. Cassia washed out her mouth and brushed her teeth and tongue. She reached for the mouthwash and took it straight from the bottle.
“Another round of detox,” Cassia said, as she looked in the mirror. She would have to call her doctor, a woman well acquainted with Cassia’s situation, although she hadn’t seen her with the same face twice.
Cassia stepped into the shower. She washed her hair and scrubbed the rest of her body. She could feel the familiar craving in the pit of her stomach. This body would need drugs soon, or it would begin to get sick.
She towel-dried her hair and put on the underwear. She routed through the closet looking for something that didn’t scream “whore.” She settled for another hole-filled T-shirt and ratty jeans. Then she picked up the cellphone on the dresser and dialed her doctor.
Cassia looked around the small, studio apartment as she chatted with her doctor’s receptionist. She was told to go to the nearest hospital and have the attending doctor call them so they could make the arrangements.
When Cassia got off the phone, she looked through the handbag hung over the dining room chair. She found a wallet with two dollars in it and a driver’s license. She wasn’t sure if the license was valid or not. The name on it read “Meghan Spencer.” There were car keys, too. The keys had an electronic lock, so she should be able to find the car by clicking on it.
Cassia took one last look around the apartment before she left. She searched in the drawers to see if she could find any more money. She found an empty bottle of Oxycodone, a pipe and a spoon, but no money.
She looked for a jewelry box but couldn’t find one. Lastly, she looked for something she could pawn. The girl had nothing. If this girl was turning tricks for drug money, Cassia would need a test for STDs.
Cassia didn’t know where she was or what the temperature might be, so she picked up the jacket hung over the chair. The driver’s license said Baltimore. She hoped she could find a hospital close by.
When she opened the door, the smell of urine almost knocked her over. She quickly walked out, barely closing the door behind her. The steps were wooden and old, and she was really beginning to feel sick. She walked as fast as she could, but she didn’t make it all the way down without upchucking over the bannister.
There was a pa
rking lot across the street. Cassia pushed the button on her key and heard a beep. She followed the sound to a very old Mercury Grand Marquis. Cassia opened the door.
This girl, Meghan, had been a real slob. The car was filled with old fast food containers and soda cups. Cassia swept them out of the car with her arm and sat down. She turned the key and saw that the car had some gas, but no GPS. She pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic.
Cassia perused the area for a big blue sign with an “H” on it. Three blocks down, she found one. She followed it to the Sisters of Mercy Hospital and parked.
Cassia was shaking and sweating now. She walked into the ER waiting room and was told to take a seat. By the time they called her name, she was unable to respond. When they were able to revive her in the ER, she gave them the name of her doctor, and was then whisked away to a private room on one of the upper floors.
Cassia was given medication to ease her detox symptoms, and within a few days she was feeling better and asked to be released. Her doctor telephoned her attending physician, and the papers were signed that day.
A limousine met Cassia as they rolled her out of the hospital in a wheelchair. She had to wear the same jeans and T-shirt she’d worn to the ER. As she got into the limo, she smiled at Manuel. He smiled back.
“Home?” he asked.
“Home,” she replied.
Home - Schuylerville
The dead autumn leaves blew across the driveway as Manuel drove the limousine toward the mansion. The ride from Baltimore had been uneventful, and Cassia had slept most of the way. It was cooler up here, and she shivered involuntarily. She didn’t know whether it was the temperature or the company awaiting her arrival that caused it. Manuel parked the car and climbed out of the limo. He came to her door and opened it.
Cassia sighed and exited the limo. She pulled the old jacket she’d taken from Meghan’s apartment close, but the wind was relentless. Late November in upstate New York could be extremely cold, even though winter had not officially arrived yet.
Manuel opened the front door and let her in.
“Thanks, Manuel, for everything,” she said. Manuel nodded and gave her a small salute before closing the door, leaving her alone in the foyer.
Cassia stared down the hallway toward the den. She desperately wanted to climb the stairs and go to bed. She was still recovering from the aftereffects of the drugs Meghan had ingested. But protocol demanded she make an appearance, or the boys would be offended. No one but Manuel knew she was here, and he wouldn’t mention it to anyone, so Cassia decided to go upstairs and take a shower. The boys wouldn’t object to that.
Her room was on the second floor, next to Amatus’. It was a pretty, feminine space with a huge fireplace and floor length windows. Her windows looked out onto the garden. This time of year it was brown, with green bushes dotting the landscape. In the spring, the garden would be full of flowers. Still, the mountains beyond were spectacular.
Cassia threw off her clothes and made a mental note to ask Laurie, their “manager,” to have them burned. She turned the water on and decided she’d rather have a bath. She turned on some music and got into the tub. She let the water run over her toes until it covered her body. She lay back and let the warmth seep into her bones.
Cassia closed her eyes. The sensation of the water combined with the music caused her to drift into a semi-nap. She had been in this new body a week. The doctors had found nothing wrong with it, a miracle considering the girl’s lifestyle. With good food and rest, the body was recovering nicely. Cassia hadn’t looked at it closely yet. She had glanced at herself once in the hospital, but quickly looked away. She was still adjusting to her new look, and preferred to think of herself in her last body.
When she felt relaxed enough, she opened her eyes and sat up. After scrubbing every body part, she got out of the tub, dried herself off and dressed slowly. When she could find no more excuses for staying in her room, she opened the door and went downstairs to face the music.
The boys were in the den - Amatus sat by the fireplace in a wingback chair and Darius sat at the bar. They both turned to look at her when she came in.
“Holy crap,” Amatus said.
“Yes, indeed,” Darius said.
Cassia stood staring at them.
“How did she do this?” she asked.
“I thought it was odd when I saw him,” Amatus said, nodding at Darius. “But apparently, we’ve all been cloned.”
“No shit,” said Darius. “My God, Cassia, you look exactly the same.”
“How can you say that? It’s been two thousand years. How could you possibly remember what I looked like then?”
“But you see it, don’t you, Cassia?” Amatus said.
Cassia had to admit the boys looked as they had two thousand years ago. She couldn’t believe she remembered them so well. Darius was just a little over 5’6” with black hair and blue eyes. He was gorgeous. And Amatus was just about 6’ tall with brown wavy hair. It left her feeling unsettled.
“You think I look like I did back then?” she asked.
The boys nodded.
“You look like the first time I saw you,” Darius said. He kept staring at her, just as he had then.
“Well, I assure you, I’ve changed a bit since then,” she said. “Where’s Janus?” she asked, and Amatus answered.
“He’s not here yet. We’ve been here for a week. I woke up in some college dorm. I think it was in Schenectady. I’ve decided to keep my last name, though. Please call me Barnaby from now on.”
“Barnaby! Why would you settle on that?” Darius said.
“I like the name, that’s all. Amatus is too old-fashioned. Nobody’s named Amatus anymore.”
“What about you, Cass? Have you changed your name, too?” Darius asked.
“No, I’m still Cassia. When do you think Janus will get here?”
“What’s the big hurry?” Darius said.
“Yeah, I’d like to know when he’s coming, too. I need my new license. I’m going to stay in Aspen this time,” Barnaby said.
“You’re not staying close by?” Cassia asked.
“Not this time. I’ve had enough. Besides, you don’t need me to complete your little psychodrama.”
“Of course we do. Ama…Barnaby, I need you.” Cassia walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t, Cassia. Not this time.” He shook her hand off his shoulder and stood up. “I’m gonna have a life of my own from now on.” He walked to the door and left the room, leaving Cassia alone with Darius.
“We don’t need him, Cass. You and I always get along without him. In fact, I think…”
“Nobody gives a damn what you think, Darius,” she said and followed Barnaby. Before she could reach the door, however, Morta walked in. She stood looking from Cassia to Darius and smiled. She was a very old woman, but her eyes twinkled. Her long white hair was wound around her head and pinned in place. She wore a long lilac dress. She must have acquired it sometime in the 1950s.
“My, Cassia, you do look wonderful,” she said as she reached for Cassia. She hugged her and then stepped back. “Darius,” she said as she nodded in his direction. “Would you please leave us alone, Darius?”
Darius made a show of rolling his eyes, but he got off the barstool and left them alone.
“Let’s sit down, dear. I want to talk to you about this incarnation.”
Reluctantly, Cassia followed Morta to the wingback chairs. Morta sat in the one Amatus/Barnaby had vacated, while Cassia sat in the other right next to it. Both chairs faced the fireplace, so Cassia stared into the fire while Morta adjusted her clothing.
“There, all comfy. You do look remarkably like you did back then, Cassia.”
Cassia was still staring at the fire. She didn’t want to talk to Morta right now. She hadn’t been prepared for this.
“I’m pissed off, Morta.”
“Of course you are, dear. You always are the first few weeks, but then you
adjust and everything is fine.”
“This isn’t fine, Morta. I’m sick of waking up with vomit in my mouth. Why are they always drug addicts?”
“Because they die young, dear. You want to be young when you wake up, don’t you? And I can’t take a person out of a body. They have to die first, before I can move you in.”
Cassia hadn’t thought about where Morta found the bodies before. It was easier to just move ahead without thinking. She always knew someone had to have died in order for the rebirth to take place, but she’d always been able to put it somewhere in the back of her mind.
“I never thought about it. God, that sucks.”
“Yes, it does, Cassia. And finding three of them that looked like the three of you was damn near impossible, until recently. Young people these days are so careless. Anyway, dear, I have to talk to you about this incarnation. I don’t know if anyone has told you or not, but this time we have to make a success of things. It is very important that everything go according to plan.” Morta looked around. “We can’t let Darius get away with mucking things up again.”
“Why, what’s different this time?” Cassia asked.
Morta leaned forward and looked into Cassia’s eyes.
“Jupiter told me that if we didn’t conclude things this time, I wouldn’t be allowed to go home to Olympus.”
“That’s bad for us, how?” Cassia was finding it hard to have sympathy for Morta.
“If we don’t wrap things up, we’ll all end up in a sort of purgatory. A place we can’t leave - ever.”
Cassia looked at Morta. She could see Morta was telling the truth. The old woman looked genuinely concerned.
“All of us?” she said. Morta nodded. “What exactly do I have to do?”
“You’ll have to marry Darius.”
Pello Island: Cassia Page 1
