"I'd have to leave work early again. Mom will flip her lid."
"Well, I suppose I could take your grandfather's car out of the garage. It probably still runs. It's been a while since I've driven, but I'm sure not much has changed."
"Okay, okay," I said, "I'll go pick up your friend."
"That's kind of you, dear. Here's the address."
I jotted down the address, and after hanging up the phone, I dawdled over my computer while trying to figure out what to tell my boss. Family emergency was out of the question since I knew that would get back to my mother. If I said I was sick, I'm sure the results would be the same. It wasn't until I was standing in front of him that I decided what to say.
"You're taking the day off to run an errand?" my boss asked.
"The rest of the day," I said. “Yes."
"Because you don't want to be here?"
"Yep, that's it."
It wasn't going over well.
"Miss Heidrich, for the past few months you've done excellent work, but we don't walk out when we don't feel like working. If that were the case, the office would be empty half the time."
Half the time? Who was he fooling?
"I agree," I said.
"You agree, but you're still going."
"Yep."
"I shouldn't say anything, but there are current discussions about promotions coming up."
He left the statement floating in the air, but it was all I could do not to curl up my nose at the idea of a promotion at this company.
"I'm afraid," he continued when I remained silent, "that the discussions may turn a different direction if you don't prioritize your life."
"I understand completely," I said.
"Good to know," he said, nodding his head.
"You all need to do what's best for the company. I should be in tomorrow to see how it turns out." My heart thumped loudly in my chest when I turned and walked out.
It felt good. Liberating, even. I felt a little bad about walking out like that, but it's not as if I quit. There's nothing wrong with taking a day off.
It was easier to convince myself of that than I thought it would be. Still, by the time I reached my car, I was surprised that Mom hadn't called. I’m not sure if I could have told my boss anything else that would have gotten back to my mother faster.
But my phone didn't ring. I plugged in the GPS coordinates and went to pick up Gran's friend. The whole drive I kept glancing at my phone, expecting it to ring, but it remained silent.
Chapter 5
The address Gran had given me took me to an affluent neighborhood on the south side of town. The house wasn't as large as its neighbors were, but it certainly wasn't the smallest house on the block. I parked on the street out front and walked up to the house, but before I reached it, the front door popped open and a woman slipped out.
It was hard to tell if she was in her 60s or 70s, but I was a terrible judge of that sort of thing. Her hair was long and stark white, but it was the dark skin and high cheekbones that stood out and told me she was Native American.
"You must be Cassie," she said, offering me her hand. When she took it, she cocked her head the slightest bit to the side and nodded as our hands pumped up and down.
There was a tingle that ran through my hand and up my arm. "I am, but I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"You can call me Rose. We should go. I don't think we have as much time as we will need."
Our contact broke and the tingling sensation slowly drained away as I opened her car door for her.
Once we were on our way, the questions rolled. "Gran said you'd be able to help us?"
"If you have what I think you do, I'm sure we can find the help we need," Rose said.
"Do you know what he is then?"
"He is tall, thinner than you think he should be, and makes sounds as though rocks were being struck together."
"Yes," I said, “that's him."
"And he is afraid of humans?"
"Yeah, it's the strangest thing."
"You have a rock giant."
"Is that what it sounds like? I wouldn’t expect to see something as big as him unless it was an animal or on TV or print."
"There is no reason why you should. It has been hundreds of years since they were common in this area."
"Do you know where he's from?"
"He is not of this world, merely in this world."
That statement rattled around in my head as I tried to break down the meaning. It sounded vaguely religious.
"Do you mean he's a ghost?" I asked. "He's pretty solid."
"I expect he is more substantial than you realize," Rose said. “And no, he is not a ghost."
"Then, when you say he's not of this world, what does that mean?" Before my next question could come out my face turned red. I couldn't ask her if he was an alien. Aliens weren't real.
"There are more living things on this earth than humans, animals, and plants, and not all of them belong to this world."
What she said might not have intended to be ominous, but her voice made them so. Her words spread through me like wildfire. Gooseflesh broke out across my arm, my stomach quivered as thoughts of dusty dark corners and full moons were left behind in the wake of her statement.
But that was silly. The rock man was more afraid of me than I was of him.
I cleared my throat to make sure my voice didn't betray my fear. "So, you've met someone like him before?"
"Not a rock creature, no," Rose said.
Pushing aside the idea that she had met other things, but they weren't rocky, I concentrated on my confusion rather than my fear. If she hadn't met anyone like him, then how could she help us?
Rose appeared excited when I drove into Gran's driveway, but I felt something else hanging in the atmosphere around her.
Her fear and trepidation overrode almost everything else.
Still she charged forward. There wasn't even a pause to gather herself together when the car stopped. She was out the door and down the sidewalk before I had even put it in park. Gran met us at the door.
"Rose, it's good to see you," Gran said. "Please come in."
Lost in thought, I followed the women inside. Rose looked fragile, but she was ready to jump towards her fears instead of away from them. I had been like that once, hadn't I? Ready to barrel my way through anything to help a friend. Now I had turned myself into someone that couldn't even stand up to her own mother.
The grating noise of Dwayne broke through my thoughts. The man was practically quivering at the sight of the newcomer.
All five feet of her.
He began to shrink in height and gain width as he attempted to hide.
"She's the one I brought here to help us," Gran said, patting Dwayne's arm. "And it's rude to make those noises at guests," Gran admonished.
The man paused, but didn't stretch back out. It had to be her tone of voice, I decided. Gran was comforting, but sharp if she thought you were being rude or silly.
"Rose, let's go into the kitchen and I'll get you a glass of tea while our friend steadies himself," Gran said. "Cassie, bring him in when he's ready."
I nodded and watched them leave the room before I turned my gaze to Dwayne.
"How's it going?" I asked. It was incredible to me that this thing...person, stood before me, and I didn't feel afraid of him anymore. He could probably kill me without breaking a sweat, but then, so could a lot of humans. Being big and stony didn't make him a scary monster.
Maybe the other beings Rose hinted at were the same.
"Rose is here to help you out," I told Dwayne. Keeping my voice soothing wasn't difficult anymore. It was almost like coaxing a cowering child. Although this one was ginormous. "I'm not sure how we’ll help, but once you're feeling up to it, we can go into the other room and find out."
Little by little, Dwayne relaxed and stretched himself up almost to his full height. Gran's house was older and although the ceilings were high, they'd have to be another
few feet taller before Dwayne would be able to stand fully erect.
"Come on," I said. “Let's go see what Rose has to say.” Much like Gran had, I took Dwayne's hand and gently led him into the kitchen.
"Sit down here," Gran patted a seat next to her, "and I'll get you somethin’ to drink."
Dwayne looked at the chair, patted it like Gran had, and then proceeded to sit down with the utmost care.
"Here you are," Gran said, setting a glass of water in front of Dwayne. "And for you, darlin'." Gran handed me a glass of sweet tea and joined us once again at the table. "This is Rose." Gran watched Dwayne. "As in, I'm Margaret, that is Cassie, and this is Rose." She pointed to each of us in turn. "I suppose tellin him he's Dwayne would only make things more confusin'."
"I think we can clear a few things up," Rose said. "What is it that you want to know from Dwayne?"
"We want to know why he's here and what he needs," Gran said. "We'd like to help him if we can.”
Rose nodded and reached into her purse. She brought out four rocks of various type, each one large enough to fit comfortably in her hand.
"You understand, of course," Rose said, "that I've never done this before. As far as I know, no one has communicated with the stone men in decades."
"We understand," Gran said. "We all do the best we can. Nothin’ more we can do."
Dwayne's focus had been on the rocks since Rose had brought them out. Now Rose turned her full attention on Dwayne. Slowly, Rose reached out her hand and touched Dwayne's arm. I could see her arm quivering though, from fear or excitement, I wasn't sure. Maybe both. I know that's how I felt yesterday.
Rose closed her eyes and mumbled a few words under her breath. It didn't sound like English, but I couldn't be sure.
The room became still and a heavy feeling settled over me. Not the same heavy feeling that surrounded me when Dwayne had arrived. This hung around me, draping itself over me like a lumpy blanket.
No one moved.
The sink dripped and somewhere outside I could hear a car, but it sounded distant and indistinct.
Rose's eyes snapped open and I jumped. Only the whites of her eyes were showing. She took her hands off Dwayne and moved them to the rocks. She handled each one, then settled on two and slid them over each other.
Dwayne responded at once with his own grinding sounds. There was something high-pitched in there that, if he were human, I would have said was relief. Now his eyes were on Rose, and he ignored the rocks in her hand. Back and forth they went. Sometimes, Rose would pick up a new rock or turn one over, but it was a conversation. A full conversation played out in the language of rock and stone.
A chill brushed over me and without thinking, I closed my eyes, stretched my mind, and jumped into the Path.
A shimmering river moved over everything in the room. Most of the inanimate objects looked ghosted, and their Path ran so slowly that it was almost unrecognizable as movement. Gran's Path sang out brightly. Gentle currents of purple and yellow danced around each other. A hard knot of pitch black Path anchored itself to Gran's center. Like almost everyone in this world, Gran had things she wanted to keep hidden.
Everyone had a little darkness in them.
Or so I thought.
Rose was a shining beacon of yellow tinged with fiery reds that glared out. Greens and browns shifted throughout her body, but never quite broke themselves away as the rest of her Path had.
Dwayne was altogether different. His Path was erratic and twitching. The flow around him glimmered as it did over everything else, but his Path flared and receded with jerky movements that I had never seen before. There were plenty of reds and browns that exploded out and died away while greens danced under his skin. The only part of his Path that shifted smoothly was the dark blue streak that tore through everything.
He was sad. It was a deep, dark sadness that felt heavier than any person should have to bear.
Gran patted my hand and I looked at her. Dwayne's sorrow had tugged on Gran and I could see her emotion bubble up. She handed me a tissue and I watched the bubble of despair that had risen up be pounded back down again. Some people were excellent at hiding their emotions, but sooner or later, something snuck out.
Blinking, I looked at the tissue. It took me a moment to recognize that I had tears running down my face. It seemed like my nose was waiting for me to notice before deciding to run as well.
Closing my eyes, I shrugged the Path away. When I opened my eyes again, the lively color drained away and the world took on a dull sheen.
I turned my head away from the table, wiped my tears dry, and blew my nose. It had been the first time I had seen the Path in over a year. When I gained control of myself once more, I wanted to dive back into the ever-flowing river of Path, but I stopped myself. Since I had been out of practice for so long, even that small use of my power had worn me down.
The grating noises continued for a short time after that, then Rose put the rocks down, touched Dwayne's arm once more, and then closed her eyes.
Chapter 6
When Rose opened her eyes once again, they were back to normal, save the glassy sheen. She took a few sips of her drink and cleared her throat.
I hadn't realized the anticipation that had been building while Rose spoke with Dwayne. Right then, it seemed like I wanted nothing more in the world than to find out as much as I could about what Dwayne said.
Rose cleared her throat again, but when she spoke, it still sounded as though she had swallowed sandpaper. "I had not realized how difficult this would be."
"Would you like to take a few minutes?" Gran asked.
Looking at Rose more carefully, I could see that she was worn to the bone. Still, she smiled.
"Do you remember that lovely woman we spoke to, oh, say twenty-five years ago?" Rose asked.
Gran laughed. "She was a spitfire. If I recall correctly, she kicked you in the shins during your conversation."
"It was so easy back then." Rose turned her head and covered a large yawn.
"Everything was easy back then," Gran said.
A small part of me wanted to know more about what they had done in the past, how often they had done it, and why. The rest of me wanted to know what Dwayne said, but I didn't interrupt.
"Isn't that always the case?" Rose asked. "Well, Dwayne here at least has something easier that he wants to accomplish."
"That's good with me," Gran said. "I don't think I'm up for drivin’ halfway across the country and spendin’ a lot of time in damp caves."
"Nothing as difficult this time. Dwayne has a message that he needs to deliver," Rose said.
"Who to?" I asked.
"He has an old friend who arrived here many years ago. He doesn't know how long for sure." Rose had seen my question and cut me off. "His race doesn't tell time the same way we do. It sounded like it was over a hundred years ago, but it could have been as little ten or more than a thousand."
That was a big difference in time, but I kept my mouth shut and added ‘how do they tell time’ to a list of questions gathering in my head.
"What kind of message is he deliverin'?" Gran asked.
"Not a happy one, I'm afraid," Rose said. "The translation is rough, but it sounds as though someone has died. Perhaps a wife or child."
"What is the closest explanation of his message?" Gran asked.
Rose closed her eyes again. "Pebble fused with pebble, worn away by air and grief. Clay born by water dams the flow. Metal forged in fire struggles forward against the desolate gray plains of sand."
"Hmm," Gran murmured. "Not so sure that means death or death to come. Anything else?"
Rose opened her eyes. "He wanted to thank you for helping him and providing him food and shelter."
"He hasn't eaten anything that I know of," Gran said. "Not that I haven't tried."
"Well, whatever you're doing, he appreciates it," Rose said. "I have told him all he needs to know. His friend is suspected to be in the area, but he has to connect with the e
arth to find out for sure, and then to locate him."
"How do we get him to connect to the earth?" I asked.
Rose shrugged. "It's difficult to say, but I suspect it will be through rocks."
"More caves," Gran said.
"That would be my guess as well," Rose said. "Stone that spreads out and touches other stone. The farther it goes the better the chance he will find his friend."
"You are as remarkable as ever," Gran said. "Thank you for helpin’ us out. Can I refresh your tea?"
"Thank you,” Rose said, "but I think I need to return home and rest. I appreciate your call. It was nice to get out of the house and be useful for a change. My daughter-in-law seems to think I should spend my days in bed."
"My daughter wants me to move in with her," Gran said. "Never mind that I'm fit as a fiddle."
Rose smiled. "They mean well of course."
"They do," Gran said.
"It was good to see you again, Margaret. Call me again in a few days if you need me," Rose said.
***
Rose slept most of the way back to her house. It was a little disappointing that I couldn't ask questions, but I could tell that she was tired. Besides, it felt as though I should already know more about what was happening. Gran had obviously had an idea about what was going on, and it didn't sound like this was the first time she had done something like taking Dwayne in.
So, why didn't I know? Mom, I understood. She looked at her psychic abilities as a curse and avoided speaking to Gran about hers. She seemed to like my abilities even less.
But why hadn't Gran told me?
When I returned to Gran’s, I found her and Dwayne in the backyard. Dwayne had her garden hose in hand and looked like a kid with a new toy. He sprayed the water into the air, onto himself, and on everything else in the yard.
Even Gran looked damp.
"What are you all doing?" I asked.
"I don’t think there's a lot of water where he comes from. Yesterday, when I gave him tea, he poured it over himself. After you left, he did the same with the water. I thought I'd see what he thought of this."
AIR Series Box Set Page 4
