by Lynn McCain
Neither
Light
Nor
Dark
Copyright 2016 by Lynn McCain
All rights reserved
Neither Light Nor Dark is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to actual persons or events is coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, without the authors consent.
To my kiddos, Davis and Allie,
Thank you for giving me a reason to keep breathing.
To my husband, John, hold me.
To my SIL, Jennifer, thank you for your mad editing skills.
I would also like to thank Pandora Radio for your endless
supply of classical music, my key to Arcadia.
This book is dedicated to my niece, Regan.
Without your continued excitement, I would still be wandering around Arcadia.
Chapter 1
It all started the summer of my thirteenth year in a small but quaint shire just east of the River Conway. The year was 1936. I was supposed to be learning how to be a lady, and Mother thought it best for me to spend some time at the Channon Estate. You see, that was the name of Grandfather’s home. A scary place for a young girl, I might add, not just because Grandmother was impossible to please, but the house itself was always so dark and drafty. It was so big it seemed I might get lost on the way to the library and never be found. Even so, I loved my grandfather dearly, and the thought of spending the entire summer with him made it all worth it. We had often visited Grandfather, but this time I was to spend the entire summer there; a decision that changed the course of my life forever.
We arrived early on a Tuesday morning. A light, ghostly fog followed our car as we drove down the long, tree covered road that led to the gates; gates which seemed as if they reached up into the heavens. There would be no unannounced visitors. The entire place was locked up like a prison. Actually, I thought it resembled more of an old, mental institution, if you will. Still, once inside the gates it was quite lovely.
When we arrived, Grandmother was in her garden admiring her beautiful flowers, as Grandfather rested on the back lawn in his rocker sipping his morning drink. When I stepped out of the car, a familiar smell welcomed me. It was always the same, without fail, Grandfather’s pipe and the sweet smell of lilies. As a girl, my mother so enjoyed lilies that she named me after the beautiful flower.
As soon as Grandfather saw me, he jumped to his feet and raced toward our car. Well, as fast as an old man can race anyway. He picked me up in his arms and twirled me around until we both were dizzy. There was something he always would say, a little something special between the two of us.
“Neither light nor dark, sun nor rain could ever keep your destiny away, nor my love, my little, Lily flower.” This always seemed to upset my grandmother, yet I never could understand why.
Their home had been around for several hundred years. There were large statues placed down the long corridors leading to the study. It was a beautiful place, in spite of its creepy corridors and hidden rooms, none of which I’d found, not for lack of trying though. When I could sneak away from Grandmother, I would explore the rooms searching for hidden doors and secret passageways. Grandfather would always laugh and even hide behind the doors to jump out and scare me. He was such a splendid, old man.
After our greetings, Mother took me to my new room to help me put away all my clothes. Grandmother had at least tried to make it a little more comfortable for me. In the room, she had placed some old dolls and a cradle from when I was a baby. Grandfather had left a small, wooden jewelry box. When I opened it, a tiny ballerina emerged twirling around to the most beautiful tune.
My room was just down from the library where I spent a lot of my free time hiding from Grandmother. There were so many books it would take a lifetime to read them all. More than anything, I loved to look out of the window in the library. It overlooked all the grounds and even beyond the fences into the woods; a place I was told never to go. The entire grounds were surrounded by tall, stone walls. It seemed almost like a fortified city, if you asked me.
Mother decided to stay the night and leave out in the morning, so that night we were all able to eat dinner together. The chefs were wonderful cooks. I think they enjoyed having a child around, for they always made me a special treat. Grandfather told of stories when he was a boy and wild adventures that Grandmother insisted were untrue. Oh, but I loved the adventure stories most. He’d tell the entire story without taking his pipe out of his mouth, then sit back and let out a very large puff of smoke. I would sit there in awe, and try to picture it all in my mind.
There was never any talk of my father, although I tried over and over to move the conversation in that direction. Grandmother would always excuse herself from the room; a fact I never realized until I was older. You see, I never knew my father. I had only one picture of him hidden in my room back home. No one ever spoke of him. It was as if he never existed.
The next morning as I waved goodbye to Mother, a tear rolled down my cheek. Oh, how I would miss her. But soon Grandfather had me smiling again, chasing me through the garden.
He’d call out, “Lily, Lily,” pick one of Grandmother’s flowers as if he’d found me, and dance around the garden. When we saw her coming we both hid, afraid of her glaring eyes. Then, once we knew she was out of sight, we burst out laughing. The rest of that afternoon we spent in his shop on the back lawn, while Grandfather tinkered with his tools.
Over the next few months I became bored. There was positively nothing to do while Grandfather worked, and Grandmother was always trying to get me to act like a lady. With no children to play with, I began to pretend I had imaginary friends. We would run and jump but were always weary of getting too close to the opening at the gate. Grandmother had fiercely warned me of saying clear, yet something almost called out to me from the woods. Sometimes the leaves on the trees would sway together as I watched out the library window, and I felt as if they were waving me to come to them, each one majestic and graceful as it danced with the wind.
Every morning I had my breakfast on the back lawn. One in particular, I woke early, even before the gardeners. As I made my way out to the lawn with my breakfast, the sun was just coming up. The crisp light broke through the darkness that had covered the land, exposing her beauty. A blanket of dew lay across the ground making it sparkle underneath the rays. There was a chill in the air, so on my way out I wrapped up in Grandfather’s robe he’d left lying across the sofa. The wind did not seem to be blowing at all, yet the trees beyond the grounds were swaying violently. Of course, I was intrigued and also a bit afraid, yet I found myself at the opening of the gate.
The chain that was usually bound so tightly around the metal bars lay on the ground at my feet, now wet with dew. I wondered who had forgotten to lock it. Who would Grandmother fire today? I hesitantly placed my hands upon the metal bars, glaring up at their majesty; each one I imagined bowing, as I slowly pushed them open. I, in turn, curtsied. As I stepped my foot out of the grounds, everything became still. The trees seemed to all be watching me as I ventured into the woods, as if they themselves were able to understand. Looking back only to make sure I had not been seen, I continued on my way. As I walked, the path behind me got smaller and there were tiny creatures I guessed to be squirrels running around, although, they were not like any squirrels I had ever seen. But what did I know? I was barely thirteen and a city girl at that.
After walking for what felt like an eternity, I finally came to a stop under a massively large tree whose branches extended out rather eerily above me. Leaning up
against its trunk, I finished my breakfast. As I sat, I rubbed my hands across the ground removing the top layer of leaves until I reached the earth. Grandmother would never approve of a lady digging in the dirt, but the ground was so soft my tiny fingers just ran right through it. All of a sudden, I hit something. Within the soft dirt lay something hard and cold. I tugged until I removed it from the ground. It was an old skeleton key. All at once, a fear came over me, something I had never felt before. I knew someone was watching me.
A pair of eyes in the distance began to move closer and closer. By this time, I had stood to my feet, ready to run, when something stopped me. As I turned to look, a young boy about my age, maybe a little older, was there in front of me. He spoke quickly, as if he was afraid himself. I hardly understood a word he said, as he babbled on about getting out of the woods.
My feet seemed to be planted on the forest floor. As he turned to leave himself, he spotted the key in my hand, for it had begun to glow beneath the dirt. All the color drained from his face, and his eyes turned black as night. I had never seen someone’s eyes change color like that. He spoke of a prophecy and asked if I had any birthmarks.
Reluctantly, I pulled my coverings back off my shoulder to reveal the strange markings I’d been born with. The poor child fell to the ground. He begged me to come with him deeper into the woods but before I could answer I heard Grandfather’s voice. And all at once he stood behind me. Then, like a puff of smoke from Grandfather’s pipe, the boy vanished into thin air.
I had never seen Grandfather so stern. Grabbing me by the arm, he led me out of the woods and back onto the grounds. The entire time he was looking back and forth over his shoulder like he was making sure we had not been followed. He made me promise I would never speak of it to anyone, especially Grandmother. I was full of questions, all of which he ignored. He only promised that in time, all things would be revealed.
“Be patient, my dear,” He concluded.
That night as I lie in bed, I thought about all that had happened that day, about Grandfather’s words. What did he mean? Who was the boy in the woods? What were those creatures? Did my strange birthmark really mean anything?
All of that happened just one week before I was to go back and live with Mother. Grandfather hardly let me out of his sight, only to go to the washroom. I knew something strange was going on; I just did not know what it was.
One thing Grandfather did not know was that I still had the key. One night I snuck a wash cloth upstairs to my room, so I could clean it up after everyone went to bed. Once in my room, I pulled the key out from under the mattress where I had hidden it. As I cleaned off all the mud, I could see some type of words written on it. Only one word made sense to me. It was Lily. It frightened me so, I dropped the key and as it hit the floor it shone as bright as the sun. Immediately, I thought I heard someone call my name from down the hall, so I tiptoed quietly down to the library. The sound was coming from outside. Looking out the window, I could see the trees gently swaying under the moonlight. They danced the dance of the gods, so gracefully unaware of their magnificent beauty and like the sound of a sweet melody they seemed to sing out my name. The closer I listened, I realized I could hear the tune of the jewelry box with the twirling ballerina. I ran as fast as I could back to my room hoping nobody had heard me. There on the nightstand sat the jewelry box opened with the ballerina twirling around and around. It frightened me so much I slammed the top down, threw it in the back of the wardrobe, and dove under the covers, as I prayed for morning.
My mother was due to arrive the next afternoon. I woke early and had my bags packed and was ready to go before breakfast was even served. I had hidden the key inside of the jewelry box before I left my room and placed it back in the wardrobe. I knew one day I would return and hopefully find it again.
Grandfather caught my eye at breakfast, although I tried to avoid eye contact with either of them. He asked me to come with him into the library. Grandmother was busy telling the servants their chores for the day, so she did not notice our absence. Grandfather softly closed the door behind us, as if not wanting anyone to hear what we were doing. He took me over to a book on the shelf. It was worn, and I could hardly make out the writings. Toward the bottom of the spine it had a picture of a lily on it. As he began to flip through the book, instead of words there were many blank pages, all except for one. On this page was only the image of the key I had found in the woods.Glaring at me with much seriousness, Grandfather uttered three simple words.
“It has begun.”
My mouth opened wide, and the weight of ten elephants rested upon me. I could not move a muscle.
Motioning for me to follow him, Grandfather then placed his finger over his mouth, as if to tell me to be quiet. Above the picture on the spine, there were three numbers, 419, written in faded gold ink. He walked over to an old clock that no longer worked sitting on the mantle, and set the time to 4:19, all the while keeping his other finger over his mouth. The wall began to slowly move aside, revealing a hidden staircase. All my life I had imagined that place having secret rooms but never actually thought it was true. He led the way up the stairs, around corners, and through passages so small he hardly fit. All of this led to an old wooden door with numerous words carved in its surface.
Just as he was about to open the door, Grandmother began yelling our names. My mother had arrived early and was pulling on to the grounds. With silence up until this point, Grandfather removed his hand from the knob and uttered these words:
“Neither light nor dark, sun nor rain, could ever keep your destiny away, nor my love, my little, Lily flower. We will save this adventure for another visit.” And with that, we headed back down the stairs, only this time in another direction, ending up in his shop on the back lawn.
By the time we got there, our driver already had my bags in the car and was ready to leave. Mother had a new job waiting and could only stay for a short time. I hugged Grandmother and said farewell to all the servants, some of which I had grown quite fond, especially Clarice. Grandfather was waiting by the car with the door open. I knew I would miss him so much. Jumping into his arms, I held on as tight as I could. I had a million questions that I knew would go unanswered, but I loved that Grandfather and I shared a secret. If only I had known that was going to be the last time I would see him alive, I would have held on tighter.
Chapter 2
Mother’s new job took us father away from Grandfather than ever before. It would be almost four years before I would return to Channon Estate. Only this time, it was to lay Grandfather to rest; a fact I still could not believe. Death is so unfair. I never even got to say goodbye or tell him that I loved him more than any one person in the entire world. He was the only father I had ever known. I cried buckets full of tears, but nothing seemed to make me feel any better. It was as if I was in a terrible dream and could not wake up. And yet, there we were, on our way to put him in the ground with the worms and bugs. What is a young lady supposed to think of that? It was positively dreadful.
The day of the funeral Grandmother fell ill. Her servants had to dress her, for she did not even have the strength to get out of bed. Mother said it was normal for someone to become weak with grief, whatever that means. I really did feel sorry for her though. She had lost the one person in her life that she loved. The half that made her into a whole being. And that person, my grandfather, was never coming back. The finality of it all was the worst part. It was not as if Grandfather had gone to war and would soon return. He was gone forever, just like the dinosaurs, extinct.
They had the funeral on the back lawn where Grandfather loved to spend his days in his rocker. The entire place was decorated somewhat like a cheap wedding ceremony, which I found rather strange. Lace and tulle wrapped around the chairs while those seats were filled with mourners dressed in black from head to toe. Two large, fat women stood at the table in the back stuffing their faces with our food! I bet they had not even known Grandfather.
I could not brin
g myself to sit there facing his dead body. It did not even look like him. He looked rubbery and stiff, never mind the strange odor coming from his clothes. It smelt nothing like his pipe, more like fresh laundry or something clean. He seemed like an imposter lying there posing as Grandfather.
I would not stand for it. I went into his shop and listened from in there at this preacher, some man who never even knew Grandfather, go on about what a lovely man he was. All of a sudden, I caught a glimpse of Grandfather’s pipe sitting on his desk, just beckoning me to pick it up. Before I knew it, I had it lit up, puffing away just like he would. Without even thinking, I walked out of the shop and sat down on the front row right beside Grandmother. Everyone was glaring at me as if I were Satan himself, who had come up from the fiery depths of hell to ruin the funeral, but Grandmother looked at me and smiled. Grabbing the pipe from my mouth, she then took a very large puff herself. For the first time ever, Grandmother seemed pleased with me. Mother, on the other hand, was not at all pleased with my actions. She did excuse them though because she said death makes people do strange things. I told her I think death itself is strange.
I did not know it at the time, but Grandmother had asked Mother to come live with her on the Estate. Grandfather had left the entire place to her in his will. Since my father was not around, my mother was the only family Grandmother had left. When she told me I was in utter shock. What about all my friends back in the city? What was a young lady to do all the way out here? How was I to find a respectable suitor? I would soon turn eighteen. Was I to be an old maid with no husband? Mother snickered at all my questions. She herself was not thrilled with the idea of leaving the city, but she knew she must respect Grandfather’s wishes. After all, he thought it well to leave her the entire place.
After looking at all the work that needed to be done, Mother thought it best to hire a man to help with the running of the Estate. There was much work to be done that would be better suited for a man. Grandfather had let his duties slip in his old age, and the place was practically falling apart. For some reason, no one thought it at all strange to allow some man we did not even know to move on to the property. Was I the only sane person living here? This man could be a murderer for all we knew. He could have escaped from a mental hospital. Mother said I read too many books and not to worry. So, I kept my opinions to myself. Well, at least the best I could, which was not very well.
