Silverweed: a supernatural fairy tale

by Vann, Dorlana

  “I know it’s too late to make it up to Rose, but maybe I can help Mom and be there for my nephew. He doesn’t have a mom or a dad now. We’ll sit down and have a nice dinner and discuss everything with them, as a family. I’m sure they’ll see that it’s the best solution. Right?”

  “Right…”

  “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to get all into that.” She nodded and patted him on the leg. “I’m so glad you decided to come with me. I can’t believe you chose to spend your holiday with me. It means a lot to me.”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  “Let’s just get the bags—”

  “Wait a minute,” he said. “You’re not suggesting we sleep here, are you?”

  “We don’t have a choice. After dinner it’ll be too late to drive very far. You saw downtown. Did you see a Holiday Inn?”

  They had driven straight through Kingwood, Indiana. Surrounded by worn-down shops sat an old, two-story courthouse, complete with bell tower and soaring front steps that led to a columned porch. Unfortunately, he hadn’t seen anything that even resembled a modern hotel.

  Lucy said, “Anyway, aren’t you the one who told me I should take my time?”

  “Yeah, but I meant during the day and after we checked into a hotel that had room service.”

  “It’s only for the one night.” Lucy sighed and stared at the house. “How bad could it be?”

  He didn’t look forward to being in the house at night; it already had a creepy Poe atmosphere during the day. He imagined Diesel looming over his bed with a butcher knife chanting, “You’re bad luck. You’re bad luck...” Aiden shuddered. “Right,” he said. “How bad?”

  Chapter 2

  There Was A Dear Little Girl

  Friday: Late Afternoon

  “Learn to drive, bitch!” Scarlet Hawkins yelled, honked, and swerved. She headed north, toward Diesel’s house. He had called her half an hour earlier saying he needed her; his aunt and cousin had arrived, and he felt uncomfortable. Ever since Diesel’s mom died, he had been a total wreck, falling back into his old self, except with escalated weirdness.

  Before they’d started going out, Scarlet had known Diesel by reputation. He was mysterious and was said to have had extreme O.C.D. The multitude of girls he dated didn’t seem to mind; he was smolderingly sexy. He was a year ahead of Scarlet in school, and even though they had noticed each other since junior high, the subtle flirtations didn’t start until high school. Then it became a game of who could ignore the other more. Until his senior year and her junior year when they ended up at the same Halloween party. He pretended he thought she was his date, like he couldn’t tell the difference with her dressed up as Catwoman, and she let him.

  After they had been dating for a couple of months, some of the things Scarlet had found intriguing in the beginning became annoying, and sometimes even embarrassing, around her friends, especially when Diesel recited weird rhymes. It had taken her a little while, but she thought she had finally deprogrammed him, released him from the stupid little superstitious notions his witch-mother and strange grandma had stuck in his head.

  Now he blamed himself for his mom dying, as if it were his fault, and even thought his granny blamed him, too. Ridiculous. She did feel bad that his mom had died, but all the late night calls and pity parties had begun to get on her nerves. She knew she had to get him away from that house, away from his granny, before she lost him completely to the gloomy side. Hopefully the arrival of his aunt and cousin wouldn’t make matters worse—but it could, especially if they acted like the rest of Diesel’s family. “Crap, I gotta stop this,” she said, turning up the radio to tune out her thoughts so she wouldn’t be completely pissed-off by the time she got there.

  Scarlet wrapped her red scarf over her face to ward against the cold wind as she walked up to the house. Without knocking, she went inside to look for Diesel. Instead, she found a guy, she figured the cousin, sitting on the couch writing in a notebook.

  “Hey there,” she said. “Where’s Diesel?”

  When he stood up, she saw he was as tall as Diesel, but not as built, and had pretty, ice-blue eyes. He wore nothing-special jeans, a white t-shirt under a brown jacket, and black Converse shoes. His dark hair was shorter in the back than in front—modern, layered, clean cut—a huge contrast to his five o’clock shadow. Nevertheless, she didn’t have a problem sizing him up: cute, smart, trainable.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t seen him in a few minutes.”

  His mouth didn’t gap open, which was the way most boys responded to her. She took her time removing her coat and then swooshed her long hair behind her, so he had a clear shot of her body. He took in the scenery, careful not to linger. Definitely straight, she thought. But taken.

  She asked, “Is he in the kitchen? I smell food.”

  “That’s just my mom. I can go look for—”

  “I’ll find him. By the way,” she said over her shoulder as she left the room, “I’m Scarlet, Diesel’s woman.”

  She went upstairs and poked her head in Diesel’s room. Empty. I know where he is. She made her way back downstairs and through the living room, not glancing at the cousin on the couch, then through the French doors to the patio. She spotted Diesel straight back, half an acre away, sitting on the ground beside the stream that ran down the hillside.

  Not wanting to put her coat back on or walk that far in her high-heeled boots, she called out to him. He didn’t turn around. “Peachy,” she muttered to herself. Her only other choice was to go back in and make small talk with the boy from Texas, and she wasn’t going to do that. She put her coat on and walked outside.

  “You all right?” she asked Diesel as she approached.

  He looked up at her, his arms folded in front of his chest, and his eyes rimmed in red.

  “Why don’t we go inside? It’s freaking freezing out here.”

  “I should have paid attention to what she said instead of making fun of her.” Diesel had turned away from her and spoke to the ground in front of him.

  “You made fun of her because she was crazy. She was, and you know it.”

  “I turned my back on everything I’d believed in since I was born, and now she’s dead.”

  Scarlet cringed. How many times had they been over that in the last couple of days? “Not your fault. She had a heart attack. A heart attack. You didn’t cause that.”

  “I was so mad at her,” he said, his voice barely audible.

  “Would you listen to yourself? That didn’t kill her. My mom would’ve died years ago if you could kill a person by being ticked at them. Do you hear me? All this stuff they put in your head is nonsense. She was a crazy lady who made you think—”

  “Shut up.” He stood up slowly.

  “No, Diesel, you have got to snap out of this. This self-destructive mind-set is not doing us any good. If you ask me, you’re better off.”

  “Shut up!” he yelled and grabbed her arms. His eyes shifted, angry and helpless at the same time. “Don’t ever speak ill of the dead,” he whispered through his teeth. “Especially my mom.”

  Scarlet swallowed, unbalanced by his anger, but she matched his stare.

  His grip, which had been strong and tight, began to loosen as his eyes filled with tears. He let go of her, turning away. “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand she played mind games to keep you in line, and now your Granny is doing it. People die, and that’s that.”

  “Everything they told me is real,” he whispered.

  “No… it’s not. The only thing that’s real is that you’re in mourning.”

  When he turned toward her, she inhaled and took a step back. Yet his words came out gently. “I found a letter addressed to me in her things.”

  “What did it say?”

  Diesel’s face twitched slightly, and his lips looked a cold shade of purple.

  “Come on.” She thought whatever it was could wait until they were warmly inside. She linked her arm in his and sl
owly walked him toward the house. “Why don’t we get away for a little while?”

  “I can’t leave. The letter... I have to take care of Granny.”

  Scarlet felt anger building up inside her. She wanted to shake Diesel to make him wake up and see how stupid he was acting. She clinched her teeth until they reached the back porch, until she had control of her words, until she could start her sentence without the word asshole. “You’re in charge of all the money, right? Put her in a nursing home.”

  They heard the back door open, and a lady, who had a strong family resemblance—only without looking cuckoo—smiled at them. “Dinner’s ready,” she said and went back inside.

  Scarlet said, “The aunt, I presume. I met the cousin earlier.”

  “Aiden,” Diesel mumbled. “Seems like a fun guy.”

  One thing Scarlet could always count on from Diesel was his jealousy. “I think he’s pretty cute,” she said as she walked ahead of him and inside the house. Perhaps she had found a little fuel to help flame his desire to leave.

  They found everyone at the food-filled formal dining room table… even Granny. Scarlet’s body jittered with excitement because that meant somebody had gone upstairs, helped Granny into her wheelchair, wheeled her downstairs, and helped her into a dining room chair. Somebody who wasn’t Diesel. She couldn’t stop thinking that Diesel’s cousin and aunt were the solution to all her problems.

  She didn’t want to start drooling at the sight of them, so she looked at the hideous green and brown wallpaper. The dining room’s dust could have filled an urn. Cobwebs covered the gaudy chandelier, and only a few dim lights burned. She had visions of bugs falling down and into the food below.

  “We don’t usually sit in here,” Granny said breaking the silence. She wore her hair pinned up in a bun but had on one of her standard over-sized, flowery gowns. The funeral was the only time Scarlet had ever seen Granny wear anything else. She had been a spectacle, thick rimmed black hat with black veil and all.

  “It’s fine, Grans,” Diesel said. “Thanks for dinner, Aunt Lucy.”

  “It’s a little early for dinner,” Granny grumbled. “Who has dinner at such a ridiculous hour?”

  “Why thank you, Diesel.”

  Scarlet smiled at Aunt Lucy. Not only could she cook and handle the wheelchair, she handled Granny perfectly fine, too.

  “The chicken is overdone,” Granny said. “Augustus will you go get me some water?”

  Scarlet didn’t mind when Diesel jumped up and ran to the kitchen because the thought that it wouldn’t be happening for much longer brought her peace and happiness. “We haven’t formally met,” Scarlet said to Lucy. “I’m Scarlet Hawkins.”

  “So nice to meet you. I’m Lucy, and this is Aiden.”

  “You’re a great cook.”

  “Thank you.”

  Aiden grabbed the serving fork and stuck it into a piece of chicken, which sat on a plate in the middle of the table.

  Granny said, “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Aiden held up the thigh, offering it to her. “Did you want it?”

  Granny squinted and licked her lips. “If you take the last piece of food from a serving platter, you will never marry.”

  Aiden glanced at his mom, who gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. He put the chicken back on the plate.

  Amused, Scarlet grabbed the chicken with her hand. “Well,” she said, taking a huge bite. “If you ask me, marriage is overrated.” She felt Granny’s disapproval and loved it. She winked at Aiden. Obviously impressed, he grinned as he took a bite of his mashed potatoes.

  Diesel came back into the room with a glass of water, placing it in front of Granny.

  “Stellar dinner, really.” Scarlet stood before Diesel had a chance to sit back down. “Please excuse us.” She ignored Diesel’s confused and questioning face, and she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the dining room and upstairs to his room before she answered any of his questions.

  Once inside his room, she went to his closet, found a backpack, and started pulling clothes off of hangers.

  “Scarlet! What the hell are you doing?”

  Next, she went to his chest-of-drawers and took out his underwear and socks and added these to the bag.

  “Answer me!”

  “This is your chance. Don’t you see? Let them do it. Let them take care of her. Look, if you stay here, they’re going to leave, and you’ll be stuck here, forever. She’s probably going to outlive you, too. Do you want to be stuck here forever?”

  “No, but the letter said…”

  She stared at him. “Diesel, your mom…” She stopped and rethought her strategy. The last thing she wanted to do was put him back in defense mode. She wanted to say the letter was bull, and his mom was completely off her rocker. Instead, she took a breath, smiled, and said, “Your aunt and cousin are not going to leave a helpless old lady by herself. They’re very nice, naïve people. You’ll be leaving Granny in very capable hands. They’ll be fine and can take better care of her than you.”

  “I’ve already paid for next semester.”

  She fought to ignore the twinge of guilt. Maybe asking Diesel to leave after he had been accepted to Notre Dame wasn’t fair; he had been so thrilled. But this was an opportunity they couldn’t pass up. “We’ll use the money you got from your mom to get us started. I’m sure other universities have just as good biochemistry departments. You didn’t even look to see what was out there. This is your chance.”

  “I’m actually happy with—”

  “And wherever you pick is fine with me, as long as it’s not in Indiana. I’ll go check myself into the nearest high school. I only have the one semester left.” She wasn’t planning on going back to school if she left Kingwood, but she didn’t want to give Diesel an excuse not to leave. She would tell him later, when it was too late to turn back. “I’m doing this for us… Don’t you love me, Diesel? Don’t you want to be with me?”

  He growled and huffed a couple of times but nothing dramatic; he seemed to be thinking it over. “Okay,” he finally said.

  She smiled. “Okay. I have to stop by my house and grab a couple of things.” She threw the bag to Diesel, and he caught it.

  They walked out of the room and into the hall. Diesel said, “I need to get something from the kitchen first. In case….”

  When he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, she knew it had something to do with his mother. “Whatever,” she said. “Just hurry.”

  All the cabinet doors stood wide open when they entered the kitchen. “Your aunt’s a bit of a slob,” Scarlet said and started to close one of the doors.

  “I opened those.” Diesel put his hand on hers, stopping her from closing it. She started to ask why, and why his aunt Lucy hadn’t shut them while she cooked dinner, but instead she put her hands up and backed away.

  Diesel rummaged through a couple more drawers, finally bringing out a piece of paper. He walked through the kitchen and into the dining room. Scarlet followed. Setting the paper on the table in front of Lucy, he said, “Make these every day… every day for Grans. Don’t forget. You understand?”

  She frowned and shook her head no.

  “Just do it,” he said and glanced at Aiden. “I’m out of here.” He walked to Granny and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.”

  Scarlet followed Diesel out of the room. Even though she heard Lucy behind them asking them to wait, they hurried through the front door without looking back.

  Chapter 3

  Take These Goodies To Your Grandmother

  Aiden and Lucy stood in the foyer staring out the window, watching as the little red car and white Neon spun up the driveway to the road.

  “Did they just leave leave?” Aiden asked.

  Lucy exhaled and let go of the heavy drapes, letting them fall back in place. “Looks like it.”

  “At least I don’t have to worry about him murdering me in my sleep.”

  “What?” />
  “Never mind. What did he give you?”

  She handed the piece of wrinkled and stained paper to Aiden. “Some sort of muffin recipe.”

  Aiden read it, “Silverweed Muffins. Give to Granny every evening before sunset.”

  “It really says sunset?”

  “Yes. Yes, it does.”

  “Lucille!” They heard Granny calling from the dining room.

  “Well,” Lucy said. “Why don’t you take her upstairs, and I’ll make the muffins.”

  “Oh no! You… you take her upstairs, and I’ll go make these.”

  “Lucille!”

  “And do the dishes,” he added with a high-browed smile. “Hey, while you have her alone, why don’t you go ahead and ask her. I really want to leave in the morning.”

  Lucy scratched her head, frowned, and avoided eye contact.

  Aiden grumbled. “What?”

  “You know, we should probably make sure that Diesel isn’t coming back. I mean, what if he changes his mind or only wanted to get away for a little while. I would hate for him to come back to an empty house.”

  “He’s 18, old enough to be on his own. I imagine he’s been old enough to be on his own for a long time.”

  “I don’t want to abandon him or take Granny without him knowing. Especially since his mom just died.” She shifted from one foot to the other.

  “So, we call him.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I will. But… I think I should wait until the morning. If nothing else, I think he needs a little time and space. He probably wouldn’t even answer his phone right now. I’ll ask Granny for his number when I take her upstairs.”

  Aiden knew what she was doing: procrastinating. He figured they had to stay the night anyway, so what was the difference. “Right,” he said, making sure his voice had plenty of angst. “I’ll go make the muffins.”

  “Lucille!” Granny called.

  “One more thing,” his mom said sweetly. “All the cabinets and drawers are open in the kitchen.”