by M. W. Muse
"I don't know. When I tried to ask Melissa, she told me she already said all she was allowed to say, and the topic was off limits."
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, rubbing his thumbs on the back of my hands. "Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about all that, which is why I think I'm having
those dreams."
"What have your dreams been about, specifically, I mean?"
I told him all the dreams in detail, ending with the one I had about him. "It seems like your subconscious thinks you're in danger."
"I think you might be right. I just don't know how to define that danger."
I looked down at our hands, thinking over the past week and my conversation with Chrys, wondering if I should really tell him everything.
"There's something you're not telling me," he said quickly. "Yes. There's more."
"What?"
"Apparently, the Gorge family knows my mom. When I met the son, Chrys, he acted weird. Then the next time I saw him he said I looked just like this lady named 'Dem.' When I told him that was my mom's name, he was shocked and said he didn't know I was her daughter. He took me out that night and told me he saw my mom last year in Greece talking to his dad. He knows more than what he's saying, but he said it's because he's trying to figure it out himself."
I glanced up at Don, and his expression was frozen. Even his fingers had stopped soothing the back of my hands.
"How do you know the Gorges?"
"I got a summer job at their pharmacy in town."
Don's eyes narrowed slightly but quickly opened back up. "When?"
"Last Saturday. They live next door to Chloe, and she overheard Ms. Gorge talking to her mom about needing summer help. I was looking for a job anyway, so Chloe went with me to apply. Ms. Gorge offered me the job without me even filling out an application."
Don mumbled something unintelligible under this breath. "What?"
He ignored that and asked me another question. "How long have they lived next door to Chloe?"
"Er, I don't know. I think they just moved here. Where are you going with this?"
"Season, the Gorges are bad news. I don't like the fact that they live next door to your best friend, and I really don't like the fact that you're working for them."
"They seem nice enough." "Of course they do."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"The Gorge family is full of people who do and say whatever they need to get whatever they want. Look, I don't want to scare you, but you should really be careful around them."
His words would have knocked me down if I wasn't already sitting. Be careful.
Just like he told me in my dream, sitting at a patio table at this house. It wasn't the same porch, but it was close enough.
He immediately noticed the change in my expression. "What's wrong?"
"You just told me to be careful, just like you did in my dream." I stared off into the sky.
"Season," Don said, shaking his head. "I don't know what to say. I didn't mean to say it like that, to use those words. Look at me, please," he said softly. And I did. "It's just that some members of that family are downright evil."
"That's what Chrys said." "What did he say?"
"He said to watch out for his mom. That she was evil."
"He did?" This clearly caught Don by surprise. "Why did he say that?" "I don't know. He didn't elaborate."
"I really don't like this. It seems too convenient that Melissa would give you this news, and the next day you would meet people who may know what's going on. I don't know if you can trust what they have to say about this."
"Chrys is the one who told me, and he is the one who also warned me about his mother. Why would he warn me about her if he's just lying to me anyway?"
"I don't know. Is there anything else?"
"Yeah, there's one more thing." I looked down again. I really didn't want to tell him about this. "The night you asked me out . . ."
"Go on," he said after several seconds had passed.
"I found a death certificate in Melissa's room. It was mine, and the date of death showed my eighteenth birthday. When I told Chrys about this, he wasn't shocked. He said he has one, too, dated for his eighteenth birthday." I wasn't sure if I should continue. Don appeared to be fighting anger. "Um, he also said something about Greek Mythology and descending from Greek gods," I said timidly.
Don's hands ripped away from mine and went straight into his hair. He leaned his head back shaking it uncontrollably while he stared at the ceiling. "Unbelievable!"
I jumped in my seat at the sound of his tone and waited quietly for him to calm down, but he just kept shaking his head.
"Don?"
He still didn't look at me. "Don, what's wrong?"
He stared at me but didn't answer that question. "What did you think when you found the death certificate?"
"I thought it was part of the cover-up. If my mom had to leave for my protection, then maybe she falsified my death to protect me."
He nodded, hands still on his head. He seemed to agree with that assessment. "But after I thought about it some more, I realized if she falsified it to protect me,
then the date would have been in the past, not the future."
He started shaking his head again. "That's not necessarily true. I'm sure she would have done whatever she could have to protect you."
"I also considered the fact that Melissa said I'd be going through some changes, so I considered the possibility that what if these changes have to do with me dealing with my death," I said, whispering the last word.
Don took his hands off his head, put one arm on the table and leaned his head into it, and he stroked my face with his other palm. "Season, I don't think you should worry about that."
"I'm not worrying about it. It's just one of the possibilities I considered." My head leaned into his caress of its own volition.
He sighed. "This is a lot to consider. I guess it is good you'll be on vacation next week. You need to try and relax. Maybe you shouldn't think about your mom or any of this other stuff until she contacts you. It's best to get the information straight from the horse's mouth."
"I already considered that, but I'd like to know what Chrys has to say about everything, too. Whether or not you think he's lying."
His hand slipped from my face and landed on the table. "I don't want you talking about this with him."
"Why?"
"I've told you why." Don looked at me with pleading eyes.
I didn't want to argue about this because I didn't really understand his reasoning.
In fact, I didn't want to fight at all. This may be the last time I'd see him for a week.
I stroked his face, but his eyes were still beseeching. "Let's not talk about this anymore. You're getting upset, and I don't want to upset you."
"You're not upsetting me," he murmured, sliding his hand across the table and taking my free hand into his. "I'm just worried about you, and I don't trust them."
"It's getting late. Maybe you should just take me home." Don's face turned sad. "Do you want to go home?" "No, I didn't mean it that way."
"I'm sorry; I'm being rude. I'm not usually so overbearing. I think this falls under that category of not knowing how to react to my feelings. I care about you so much, and I know we need to take things slowly. But going slowly or not, it really doesn't change how I feel about you. I may try to control how I react to those feelings, but it doesn't stop me from having them."
"It doesn't bother me that you have those feelings. I have them, too," I said, smiling shyly.
He smiled back, took a deep breath, and nodded. "Okay, let's go."
On the ride to my house, I realized our relationship was evolving. It no longer felt surreal to me. It was easy being with him, and, except for how he felt about his reactions to his feelings for me—good reactions, I thought—it was easy for him to be with me, too.
Chapter 10
"Here," Melissa said, handing me a postal package. "What's this?"
I stared at the box, too nervous to open it. It was wrapped in brown paper and stamped from Greece. Either Chrys was telling the truth about seeing my mom in Greece, or he was a good liar.
No, I didn't believe he lied to me. I would need to get more answers from Don as to why he didn't trust Chrys's family. In the meantime, I couldn't see why it would hurt to find out all Chrys knew, as long as I stayed objective.
I turned the package around, examining it from all directions before ripping it open; I sifted through the packing peanuts to find a velvet jewelry box. I pulled it out and lifted the lid. Inside was a silver necklace, the pendent formed out of twisted silver wire. The abstract shape was triangular with rounded edges, the point facing down with diamond chips glittering from the crevices created from the wire.
"It's heavy."
"It's platinum," Melissa said.
"Wow, it's beautiful." I looked in the package but didn't see a card. I was so distracted by the beauty of the necklace that I didn't notice, at first, that the rain outside had morphed into a storm. "How do you know it's from my mom?"
"She told me she was sending you something." "When did you talk to her?" I asked incredulously. "This morning."
"What else did she say?" "That was it."
"And you still won't explain everything to me?" "I'm sorry. I can't." She turned away from me. "You're impossible!" I yelled.
Thunder crashed.
She turned to stare at me with wary eyes. "You need to calm down." "I am calm," I said through my teeth while thunder rolled outside.
"Season, there's no reason to get worked up over this. Your mom sent you a gift.
She's probably going to contact you soon, and when she does, she'll explain everything."
"Fine." I glared at her while lightning illuminated the room through the windows. "I'm going to bed."
I hardly slept. The storms were relentless. As one passed, another fired up without pause.
When I did sleep, I dreamed. The dreams were variations of those I'd already had, but instead of one snake or just snake holes, there were many snakes. These snakes came at me from several directions, giving me only one path to take. It felt like a trap, but I had no other option.
The storms had passed by morning, making the drive to work peaceful. I greeted a cheerful Tracy at the register before walking to the break room to store my handbag. Chrys was in there, going through some boxes.
"Hey, how was your date the other night?"
"It was good. How's your weekend been so far?"
"Fine. My mom's busy in her office, so you're the lucky person who gets to help me with this crap."
I laughed. "Okay, what are we doing?"
"Going through some stuff from storage, shredding the old papers, throwing out the junk, and repacking the other stuff. The objective is to store fewer boxes than what was originally packed away."
"Got it."
We spent the morning going through the boxes, but Chrys appeared distracted during the menial task. And I couldn't be sure because we didn't talk much, but it seemed like he was flirting with me. Every time he handed me a stack of papers to shred, his hand lingered on mine. He'd brush his thumb against my thumb, rub my shoulder to get my attention, and once he caught a stray strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear.
After a few hours, he got up and grabbed a couple of drinks out of the vending machine, suggesting it was break time.
"I hear you're going to the beach this week," Chrys said, after taking a sip. "Yeah, we leave in the morning."
He nodded. "I'm glad my mom hasn't come in here to spy on us. She's been in a bad mood since last night."
"Doesn't like storms, eh?" I asked sarcastically. He laughed. "That's not it."
Ms. Gorge walked in. "I'm going to run to the bank and then the deli to get sandwiches for everyone. Season, is turkey okay with you?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Chrys, I'll be back in about an hour. Watch the store."
He nodded and took another drink of his soda while Ms. Gorge walked out. "She didn't seem to be in a bad mood to me," I said matter-of-factly. "So what was
she mad about?"
"Last night I told her that I talked to you, you know, about our conversation the other night. She was furious. Apparently, she hates your mother."
"Why?"
"Season . . ." Chrys trailed off shaking his head.
"Please, tell me what you know." It felt like he was struggling with whether or not he should. "I don't care if it doesn't make sense to you. Just please tell me, so I can try to make sense of it myself."
"Okay," he whispered. He put his arm on the table to rest his head in his hand. "I'll tell you everything, but please keep in mind that some of this is going to be incomprehensible. And we can't ever talk about this in front of my mom or Melissa. I'm not entirely sure if it's safe to talk about now, so after today, we won't discuss anything here again."
"Okay."
"I guess I need to explain lineage first. When people think of ancestors, they usually visualize a vertical line of parents, grandparents, and so on. But the way the descendants of Greek gods descend, it can also create a horizontal line. Gods can do practically anything they want. They can create completely new gods through previously untried means. Or they can create a new god in the likeness of an old one with the same method used to create the original god, basically creating a new generation of that god. Descendants created from the likeness of an original god, or one from a later generation, may be similar to that original god, but they're not exact copies. Not all the special traits of their creators are passed to descendants. Over time, the power given to one god blended with other powers, so instead of a new god with the pure, powerful abilities of an original god, the new gods created had many, less- powerful abilities.
"Over time, you can see how a gene pool can become a melting pot of abilities.
Usually, no one can be certain who has what abilities until each new god reaches adulthood, at which time, those powers are solidified. Every once in a while, a new god is created with the pure abilities of an original god. That new god is extremely
powerful, and sometimes the other gods become jealous. Those who are in the know keep this knowledge to themselves out of safety for the new god, but there are some that know who do not have the best intentions."
"What do you mean?"
"Less powerful gods can move up the ranks, so to speak, by preventing a new god from fully developing. If any god prevents the transformation of another, then he assumes the abilities of that would-be god.
"There are many different families that descended from the gods. These families are all over the world. Some are extremely powerful and don't even know why. They don't think of themselves as gods, only magical. But those of us who do know, understand the importance of those born with pure abilities."
"What does this have to do with our moms?"
"Do you think it was a coincidence that there was a tornado warning when you were here with my mother last week? Or what about the terrible storm last night when my mother was furious?"
"You think your mom is doing that?"
He nodded. "Like I said, those of us who understand what we are know the importance of the creation of a pure god. I think my mom believes your mom created such a god."
I was completely numb as I stared at him. "Are you saying I'm descended from gods like you? That my mother is a god? That I might have some special abilities?"
"No, I'm not saying you might. I'm saying you will."
"This is crazy. I—I don't even know what to say." I didn't even know how to
think.
He sighed. "Season, I don't know your family, but I do know mine. I think my
mom will stop at nothing to keep you from attaining your full power. She's been emotional lately, and it seems like the weather is connected to her emotional state. I've just never seen it as strong as this before."
"What was the other reason?" His qualms didn't matter now. How much weirder could this get?
"She knows that we'll . . . er . . . be together. If . . ." "Huh? If what?" I was wrong, this did get weirder. "If Don stays alive," he whispered.
"What? What does this have to do with Don, and what do you mean exactly that we'll be together?"
"You asked me the other day if there was anyone special in my life, and I told you that there was."
"And?" What I really wanted to say was so what?
"You're that special someone, Season." His eyes penetrated mine. I stared at him in total disbelief.
"I don't know when we'll be together," he continued, "but it has been prophesied that if Don stays alive, you and I will be together. The three of us are bonded by that.
Some action will break it. I think Don is the link, the deciding factor. This is only a guess because I don't know much about him, but I think if he dies, you'll be too distraught to be with me. If you stay with me, then I guess he'll continue to live a long life as any other mortal."
"That is absurd!" I roared.
"Season, you asked me to tell you what I know, and I have. I found out about the prophecy the night before you came in the store and got the job here, so I'm still dealing with all this, too."
"You found out last Friday night? That's the same night I found out about my mother."
"I know."
"Don't you think it's weird that we both found out things about our lives on the same night?"
"I'm sure it wasn't a coincidence. There are no coincidences. When I saw you here that Saturday, I knew there was something special about you. When we went out and you told me about yourself, I realized why. I feel attached to you, like I need to protect you, so I know none of this is a coincidence."
"What do you mean you feel attached to me? We just met!"
"Season, I wanted to give you enough time for our relationship to develop naturally. I'm not playing with the same advantages that Don has." He half-smiled and sighed. "He's known you for years. You've had time to be friends with him first. That's why I didn't want to tell you about all this. Not yet. But you pleaded with me, and I can't refuse you," he said, shaking his head, watching my eyes. "I already feel like you belong to me. I can only assume Don feels the same way. He just doesn't understand why he feels so strongly for you now. When Melissa decided to tell you about this, I think she set all this into motion. Now, this is out of all our hands."
