by P. L. Parker
"Quit your shenanigans. I told you before, leave her be until I decide it's the right time.” Granny's voice drifted from the dimly lit parlor. “I don't care how long you've waited. You'll just have to wait a little longer."
Annalisa stepped in. “Gran, who're you talking to?” she asked.
"Why, Alec of course. Who'd you think I was talking to?” Granny Jean's tired old eyes glimmered from her crepe-lined face.
Eerie shadows cast by oblong crystals hanging from an antique silk lamp danced on the walls, and, save for the hands of the grandmother clock sitting on the mantelpiece, nothing else moved, and no one, other than Granny, was in sight.
"There's no one in here but you,” Annalisa whispered.
Granny's head swiveled, checking the dark corners and crevices of the parlor. “Of course not! He was just visiting, and he quit talking when you came in,” she stated.
"Who?"
"Alec,” Granny exclaimed in exasperation. “I told you Alec."
Annalisa unlatched the wheelchair brakes and turned it around, pushing it out the door towards Granny's bedroom.
"You shouldn't be up this late, especially not alone."
"Don't you go ordering me around, young missy,” Granny grumbled. “I get enough of that from Rose."
"I wasn't ordering you around,” Annalisa replied calmly. “I just wondered who you were talking to. Maybe you could introduce him to me."
"You'll get that chance soon enough, but not until I'm sure."
"Sure about what?” Annalisa was growing more worried by the minute. Granny seemed bewildered by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the invisible man, Alec.
"Sure that what I've got planned is the right thing to do.” She turned her head, peering at Annalisa over her shoulder, her voice weak and raspy. “I have only one thing left I need to do before I go and that's to make sure you're happy."
"Where are you going?” She waited for the answer, dreading the inevitable.
"Child,” Granny wheezed. “I'm not well, and I don't have a lot of time left."
"You're just being silly,” Annalisa protested. “You're fine, and we have lots of time left. We still have lots to do together."
"No, we don't.” As if to validate the comment, Granny coughed, hacking until Annalisa thought she would suffocate from lack of oxygen, blood stained the small handkerchief she held covering her mouth.
A lump formed in Annalisa's throat, tears threatened to fall. “What's wrong with you?"
Gran's lips twisted in a sad little smile. “Emphysema and old age. Bad combination. Too much smoking when I was young. But I did love my smokes. Doctor said I only have a short time."
"What about a second opinion? Maybe we should drive to London and find a specialist!"
"I've had a second opinion and a third for that matter.” Granny coughed again. “They all said the same thing. I don't have long to live, give or take a few months, depending on the doctor."
Tears overflowed and spilled down Annalisa's face. “I don't understand. Why didn't you call me before? I'd have come immediately."
"Because I didn't want you fussing over me.” Granny's smile widened. “You've got better things to do than take care of an old woman."
"Like what?” Annalisa cried. “My life basically sucks. The only thing I have to look forward to is coming here and seeing you."
Granny took her hand and then rested her cheek against Annalisa's soft palm. “You're the daughter I never had, and it does these old eyes good to see what a beautiful, intelligent, and caring person you've become. One only has to look into your eyes to see what a kind and gentle soul you have. I couldn't ask for better."
Dropping down beside the wheelchair, Annalisa hugged the old woman. She felt the sharp bones protruding from the withered frame, the black miasma engulfing her in a shroud of coming death.
Terrified at the thought of losing the only person she had left, Annalisa wept. “You can't die, Gran,” she sobbed. “You're the only person who loves me."
Granny wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You're wrong. There's a wonderful man just waiting for you. You'll be so happy, you'll forget about me in no time."
"Don't say that!” Annalisa cried. “I'll never forget you—never!"
"Well, then, remember me as I was years ago. Not like now. Remember me when we could run across the moor together and visit the market and buy silly things. Remember me like that.” Granny stroked her face, the simple touch soothing her battered heart.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Annalisa laid her head on Granny's lap. “I wish I'd come home sooner,” she hiccupped, sadness almost choking her. “There's nothing left anywhere for me."
Granny's old hand smoothed Annalisa's hair. “Where would you like to be?"
"Where I feel like I belong."
Granny's hand stopped, poised over Annalisa's head. “And where would that be?"
Lifting her head, Annalisa gazed into Granny's wise old eyes. “Have you ever felt like you were born in the wrong time or at the wrong place?"
"Do you often feel like that?” Granny asked sharply.
"All the time,” she admitted. “I feel like I don't belong here. Not here specifically,” she waved her hand around, “but here in this time."
Her head rested again on Granny's lap. “I dream of music that sounds like waltzes. There are men dressed in old-fashioned coats and silk vests, and cravats, I think, with walking canes. The women's dresses are Empire style, you know, high-waisted and made of some sort of sheer material. Weird stuff like that."
"Is that all you dream of?"
Annalisa hesitated, wondering how much she should reveal. “I dream of a man,” she admitted, discomfited. “I dream of the man in the painting."
"You mean Alec?” Granny's voice came stronger, questioning.
"If that's his name, yes, I dream of Alec. I dream of him all the time, and it gets more vivid every night. Just now, before I came down, I was dreaming of him. He said you have the key to the portal, whatever that is. Do you know what it means?"
Granny didn't answer immediately, and when she did, Annalisa was even more baffled.
"Alec isn't supposed to bother you until I tell him you're ready."
A cold chill wafted through the small parlor causing goose bumps to pop up on Annalisa's arms. A movement at the corner of her eye drew her attention. The black cat sauntered into the room, his huge yellow eyes gleaming in the light of the small lamp. Nonchalantly, as though he had no cares whatsoever, he perched near Granny's feet, yawned hugely and then proceeded to wash his face.
"There's nothing for you to hear or see,” Granny scolded the cat. “Now, go away until I need you."
The cat only stared with unblinking yellow eyes.
"If you don't go now,” Granny threatened, “I'll have Rose take you out somewhere far away and dump you off. Then you won't know what's going on. How do you like that?” She cackled gleefully.
Disdainfully, the cat stalked from the room, tail bushed out, clearly incensed.
"You know,” Annalisa began, “sometimes I feel like that cat's supernatural or something. Isn't that stupid?"
"I suspect he is! He moves through the portal whenever he takes a notion."
"Granny, what's this portal I keep hearing about?"
"You'll know soon enough. Time's passing and Alec's getting jumpy.” Granny sighed heavily. “I'm tired,” she muttered plaintively. “Help me to bed, child."
The next few moments were spent getting Granny settled for the night, shutting off lamps and making sure the fire was properly banked. The old cottage was drafty. Especially in late fall, dampness crept in on the cool air. Before retiring again, Annalisa did one last check to make sure all the windows were latched securely. It wouldn't do for Gran to catch even a small chill. Making her way back up to the small bedroom, Annalisa shivered. A cold wind blew in from the moor, window panes rattling with each fierce gust and dropping the temperature downward, so cold she could see her breath
when she exhaled against the glass. The last strains of autumn were definitely giving way to the dark forces of winter. How long would Granny be able to hang on? Annalisa couldn't bear to think of it. With Granny gone, she would have no one. How sad was that?
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Chapter Six
With Granny's admission her health was deteriorating, she weakened noticeably each day thereafter. It was as if she had staved off death, waiting for Annalisa to arrive before finally letting go. Adding to her physical health problems, her mental acuity declined at an alarming rate. Annalisa often found Granny talking animatedly to unseen visitors, Alec as well as her deceased husband, carrying on long, drawn out conversations about Annalisa and bygone days. The coughing fits increased, dark blood spotting the hankies covering her mouth. Annalisa watched in despair, knowing Granny's days were numbered.
Faithful Rose kept a tight vigil, scarcely leaving Granny's side, keeping her warm and seeing to her personal comforts. When the pain or coughing became too much to bear, Rose would croon softly, her gentle hands soothing the frail old woman, and administering pain medication Granny would otherwise have forgotten. Rose was as solid as an oak tree, and Annalisa was eternally grateful for her presence.
The painting above the mantelpiece was often the source of Granny's interest. She would sit for hours staring at it, murmuring softly, her arthritic hands busily plucking at the lacy coverlet she was never without. The atmosphere of the cottage was bleak and oppressive, and Annalisa spent what little time she could rediscovering the secrets of the moor.
Standing atop a small hillock, Annalisa's senses meshed with the forces of nature. Clouds darkened the horizon, rain was in the offing. Autumn gave way to winter's gloom as leaves drifted down from winter-dying trees. The wind called to her, sighing as it rustled through tall grasses covering peat bogs, mesmerizing in its almost hypnotic cadence. She hated the fall season, seeing it simply as the harbinger of death, especially so this year. Granny wouldn't survive much longer. Chilled, her skin crawling, she jogged towards the cottage, convinced the watcher had returned. The cat sprang from his hiding place, joyfully pacing her stride, paws suddenly flying as he raced ahead, his black fur shining in the waning light.
As if sensing her disquiet, the feline halted his forward rush, yellow eyes gleaming as he waited, blocking the pathway.
"Better move or I'll run over you,” she puffed threateningly. “My brakes don't work that fast."
The cat meowed, his enigmatic yellow eyes glowing as he jumped into the brush bordering the path, vanishing from sight. Unnerved, Annalisa stopped, crouched down and pushed aside the solidly packed vegetation, searching for a hidden pathway. Nothing could possibly have moved through the bracken. Something the size of the cat would've been trapped by the tangled, twisting vines and plant life. Brushing off her hands, Annalisa stood up slowly, searching the landscape for some indication of the cat's whereabouts. The moor stretched before her, but no sign of the black cat. How really weird was that? If he kept up the disappearing act, she might have to start considering the possibility of elves and faeries and other things that go bump in the night. The atmosphere here was certainly ripe for such nonsense. I must be overwrought, she thought, and her eyes were playing tricks on her. That had to be the answer!
Determined not to be frightened, Annalisa shrugged it off, continuing her jog, but the incident gnawed at her subconscious and sent chills down her spine.
Rose met her at the door, smiling as Annalisa strode in. “Jean's showing some spark today,” she chuckled. “Told me to mind my own business and stay in the kitchen."
"What'd you do?” Annalisa asked, grinning in appreciation.
"Just told her she was getting senile talking to nobody all the time.” Rose's eyes sparkled. “She said I was a senile old fool."
Annalisa sighed. “Too bad the rest of us can't see who or whatever it is."
"I don't know if I'd want to,” Rose stated brusquely, “especially if she's talking to ghosts."
"There's no such thing as ghosts,” Annalisa retorted, dimples flashing as she fought to look stern. “By the way, have you seen that stupid cat?"
"Not since this morning. He was here for breakfast, but I haven't seen him since.” Rose paused, “Why? I thought you didn't like him."
"I neither like nor dislike him. Actually, I think he's kind of weird, always popping up from nowhere and then vanishing."
Rose nodded. “I know what you mean. I never know when I'll turn around, and he'll be standing there watching. Gives me the creeps sometimes.” She rubbed her arms as if suddenly cold.
"Gran says he belongs to Alec."
"Jean says a lot of things. But if he does, then the cat's older'n the hills. He'd have to be around two hundred years old."
Annalisa laughed. “Maybe the cat's the senile one."
Rose's merry eyes sharpened perceptibly. “Maybe he's just plain evil. You know what they say about black cats."
"Now you're just being superstitious,” Annalisa scowled in mock reproach. “He's probably the great, great, great, or however many greats, grandson of some cat Alec owned a long time ago and, unless we can verify the cat's family history, we'll never know one way or the other. I for one am not going to spend any more time wondering about it."
Stomach rumbling, Annalisa started from the room, intent on a shower and then a massive helping of the delicious smelling concoction Rose had simmering on the stove.
"Stop in and say good morning to Jean,” Rose called after her. “She's pretty alert right now."
Granny's face brightened in welcome as Annalisa stepped through the door. “I wondered if I would see you today,” she wheezed.
Leaning over, Annalisa planted a quick kiss on Granny's withered cheek. “Like I haven't visited you every day at least ten times?” Fussing over the old woman, she pulled the coverlet up and tucked it around Granny's chin, then lifted her slightly to plump the pillows.
"Quit bothering me,” Granny huffed, “or you can stay away with Rose."
"And you quit being mean to Rose,” Annalisa warned her good-naturedly. “Rose'll walk out, and you'll be on your own. Then who'll you boss around?"
"Why, you of course.” Granny's eyes twinkled, reminding Annalisa of the woman she'd once been.
"You'd never boss me around. You love me too much."
Granny nodded in agreement. “Always have."
Annalisa jumped back, startled, as the cat rubbed against her leg.
"Where the heck did you come from?” she growled in exasperation, glowering at the recalcitrant feline.
"He just came back from Alec's,” Granny said. Annalisa stared at her, worried that her mind was wandering again, but surprised by the old woman's seeming clarity, her old eyes sparkling with amusement.
"He comes and goes quite regularly. I think he takes messages to Alec."
Now she is losing it, Annalisa thought.
"And don't look at me that way,” Granny frowned. “I know what I'm talking about."
"Good one of us does,” Annalisa said sourly, pushing the cat away with the tip of her toe.
"I have something for you!” Granny pointed to the huge armoire standing across the room. “Look in the third drawer. It's wrapped in a blue silk cloth."
Curiosity got the best of her and hurrying across the room, Annalisa pulled open the heavy doors of the armoire and dragged open the drawer. Tucked into a side pocket was a blue package, tied with an ivory-colored ribbon. Reverently, she pulled it out and carried it gingerly across the room, setting it down gently across Granny's knees.
Granny carefully untied the ribbon and unrolled the silk. Inside was an old-fashioned ivory dress fan, its delicate feathers still as full and fresh as the day it was made. Jewels of every hue glittered on the handle, diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires, gemstones in almost every color of the rainbow. Annalisa wasn't a jewelry expert, but the fan looked very costly. She must be mistaken, though, because no one would keep
such a high-priced item in a mere drawer.
"This was Alec's wife's most treasured possession. She said it was given to her by someone she dearly loved, and she would never dream of parting with it."
"I can't take that,” Annalisa gasped, afraid to even touch the fragile item. “What if I broke it or lost it or something."
"You won't,” Granny replied, dreamily swishing the fan to and fro. “And it was always meant for you."
With a slight snap of her wrist, the fan sprang open, the fronds dancing in the sunlight.
"High class women carried these at parties back then. It went with the territory of being a lady. Me, I never had an occasion to use it, but I'm guessing you will."
"Me! I can't even imagine why I'd ever use it. I'll keep it wrapped up and guard it with my life. Must be worth a fortune!"
"Possibly,” Granny agreed softly. “But since I never planned on selling it, I never really found out one way or the other."
"What was Alec's wife's name anyway? You never told me."
Granny's eyes dropped. “Wrap the fan up and put it away. I'm tired, and I need to rest.” Turning her head to the side, Granny drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
Annalisa regarded the old woman quizzically. She had a gut feeling Gran was hiding something, but what could it possibly be? Tenderly wrapping up the magnificent fan, she gently placed it once again in the armoire drawer, relieved to have it out of sight, but concerned that Gran would keep something so valuable in such an easily accessible spot. Shrugging at the inconsistency, she gave one last tuck to Granny's coverlet, pecked her cheek lightly and left the old woman to her rest. Annalisa's stomach rumbled, reminding her again that she hadn't eaten yet.
Mentally planning her day, she decided to visit the market again and spend a few hours browsing for treasures and perhaps stopping for lunch at one of the many booths lining the walkway. Might even give the black pudding a try! On second thought, she firmly decided, it wasn't going to happen! Running up the narrow stairs, ducking to avoid the low ceiling, she showered quickly, pulled her hair up and secured it with several pins, and then dressed comfortably for the long walk. Satisfied that she looked presentable if unremarkable, she hurried down the stairs, wolfed breakfast and was soon striding toward town.
