Taylor stared at the stones then downed the remainder of her wine, before meeting Mattie’s excited gaze. As far as she was concerned Mattie hadn’t given her any good news at all. She hated change with a passion and didn’t appreciate the glyphs forcing her to face the reality of losing Chandler. Even though she wasn’t ready to commit to him, the thought of breaking off completely was one she’d rather not contemplate. Chandler was just too comfortable to lose. Taylor knew she’d promised Mattie to keep an open mind but she hoped with all her heart that this whole business was just a bunch of bunk.
Maintaining a steady grip on her wine-infused emotions, Taylor smiled wanly at Mattie. “I’m just glad you understand all those little scratches because I’d never make heads nor tails of them.” Steering clear of her real feelings for the revelations of the casts, Taylor hoped the scrying mirror would finally lighten up the evening.
Mattie smiled with pleasure at the casual compliment but she didn’t miss the tension playing across Taylor’s face. Mattie had known Taylor long enough to know exactly how her friend would feel about her interpretation of the cast, but it wouldn’t be fair to Taylor nor true to Mattie’s own beliefs for her to alter the divination to fit what Taylor wanted to hear.
Scooping the polished messengers back into their bag, Mattie inclined her head toward the ancient buffet reclining against the far side of the room. “While I put these little soothsayers away, be a dear…would you and get those two black candles from out of the center drawer.”
Taylor struggled to her feet, observing with a grimace that her left leg had gone to sleep while she’d sat in the floor beside Mattie. Gimping her way to the buffet, the pins and needles tingling throughout her leg, Taylor happened to glance to the corner where she had placed the portrait of the handsome man cloaked in red. As her gaze fell to the canvas, she froze in her tracks; the pins and needles tormenting the circulation starved leg forgotten in the wake of what met her eyes. Staring back into her own startled green eyes was the piercing blue gaze of the unknown man, the lop-sided grin once again restored to the previously stoic features.
Taylor ran her hand across her eyes, inhaling deeply to clear her head…perhaps she’d had more wine then she realized…leading to an hallucination. “Mattie..” she began, her voice quivering as she continued staring at the painting. “Didn’t I lean that picture with the front of it facing the wall?”
Mattie looked up from the wooden carton she was carefully prying open, glancing over at the portrait with a frown, the pry bar suspended in mid-air. “I don’t remember, Taylor…I don’t think I noticed, why?”
Exhaling loudly through her nose, Taylor pointed at the portrait with exasperation. “Because the damn thing is staring at me! That’s why!” she sputtered excitedly. Covering the space between her and the portrait in a determined stride, Taylor purposely turned the picture, again facing the unknown man toward the wall. “There! Now you stay there!” she commanded to the canvas, shaking her finger in a threatening gesture at the inanimate object.
“And you say I’m the one who’s gone off the deep end?” Mattie observed in a wry tone. “How much wine have you had tonight?”
“Apparently, not nearly enough!” Retrieving the candles Mattie had requested from the buffet, she slammed the drawer shut with a bang. Returning to Mattie’s side, Taylor watched the motionless portrait with suspicion, ready to pour out the remainder of her wine if it so much as moved an inch along the wall.
Mattie placed each of the large black candles to either side of the polished ebony mirror; she had carefully extracted from the wooden crate. Gently running her hand across the cool smooth surface, she smiled in happy anticipation, as though greeting an old friend. Pulling the bent book of matches from the voluminous pockets of her dress, Mattie carefully lit the candles then rolled back on her heels to study Taylor’s rapt expression of interest.
“Taylor, it’s very important that you concentrate into the mirror and follow my instructions carefully through the entire reading.” Mattie spoke quietly in a low serious voice, as though warning a potentially disobedient child.
Nodding silently in agreement, Taylor leaned forward, staring expectantly into the cold black disk; musing about the supposed powers of Mattie’s latest supernatural find. The flames of the surrounding candles flickered and danced across the ebony surface. The room seemed to be growing somehow electrified, the very air heavy as though lightening were about to strike.
Breathing deeply, Mattie slowly raised her hands to the ceiling; her eyes closed in silent meditation. After a few moments in this position, she slowly opened her eyes then gradually reached across the mirror to grasp each of Taylor’s hands. Silently directing Taylor’s gaze to the ebony disk with a nod of her head, Mattie spoke in an eerie voice that sent shivers throughout Taylor’s body. “See what I see,” she whispered ominously, as she nodded to the mirror between their clasped hands.
As Taylor looked deep into the shadowy depths of the scrying mirror, she blinked her eyes to ensure she was really seeing the forms that were slowly taking shape before her. Her jaw gone slack in disbelief, Taylor gasped, as the face of her mother clearly appeared in the reflection; for once her eyes not staring vacantly, but smiling and gazing lovingly into Taylor’s face.
“Don’t be sad, little one,” Constance McKenna whispered with a gentle smile. “I love you and we’ll see each other again…I promise you.” Her mother nodded at Taylor, her face changing to an expression of seriousness, “I’m no longer in that body, Taylor…You must allow them to let it go.”
As Taylor’s eyes filled with tears, her mother patiently continued, “I’m always with you, little girl…don’t ever forget how much Mama loves you.” Constance fixed her daughter with one last peaceful smile as her image began to fade. “I’m glad Mattie enabled me to speak to you. I’m proud of you and I promise…I’ll be watching over you….and Taylor,” her mother added as her face began to dissipate. “You mustn’t be afraid of what lies ahead. I’ve known since you were a little girl that you were very special.” As Taylor’s tears overflowed, Constance’s face shimmered and finally faded from the mirror, replaced by a vision of clouds blowing quickly across the black plane.
Taylor attempted to release Mattie’s hands, relieved that the connection was finished; but Mattie’s grip strengthened as she shook her head fiercely, preventing Taylor from breaking the tie. Whispering with a sense of urgency, Mattie pulled Taylor’s hands closer to the mirror. “There is another,” she hissed emphatically, her eyes locked into the depths of the disk.
Afraid to look down into the mirror but unable to look away, Taylor gazed once again into the cold dark surface. The apparition appearing this time shocked Taylor, causing her to glance quickly into Mattie’s serene face, as she attempted to pull her hands away. But Mattie was completely engrossed in the divination; unable and unwilling to break the connection she had been able to form. Her iron like grip tightened on Taylor’s hands as she pulled their clasped hands closer to the mirror, forcing Taylor to meet the piercing gaze she had seen only once before. Gazing deeply into her eyes, imploring her to meet his gaze was the nameless warrior of the mysterious portrait from the corner of the room. The icy blue eyes were mesmerizing, slightly crinkling at the corners with delight. The lop-sided grin was no longer faint but completely displayed across the strong handsome face in the mirror. The hair as glossy as raven’s wings moved slightly about the face as though stirred by a gentle ethereal breeze.
A deep resounding voice seemed to caress Taylor’s ear, a soft Scot’s burr tickling each and every word, “Taylor McKenna, ye need not fear me…But ye must come ta’ me…soon.”
Barely able to whisper, the words catching in her throat, Taylor stared hypnotically at the image in the mirror, “W-Who…who..are you?” she finally managed to utter.
“The one that has been searching for ye…waiting for ye across the ages,” the apparition replied with a gentle smile. “Come ta’ me, Taylor…please…ye must h
urry,” he repeated, his eyes magnetic and imploring as his face began to shimmer and fade.
“Don’t go…,” Taylor shouted at the disappearing face, “Tell me who you are!”
But it was too late. Her strength sapped from the energy required by the divination, Mattie collapsed backwards onto the pile of pillows she had carefully placed around her; the connection with the haunting image within the mirror completely severed. She lay pale and still against the pillows, as the black candles around the mirror were simultaneously snuffed out by an unexplainable draft passing through the room.
CHAPTER TWO
Taylor pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the steering wheel, struggling vainly to sort through the events of the strange unnerving evening. Closing her eyes tightly as she concentrated on slow deep breaths, Taylor still couldn’t shake the leaden ball of uneasiness lying in the pit of her stomach. What had her mother meant…”Don’t be afraid of what is to come”? Who was this strange handsome man, with the face that stirred her emotions? Where had she seen him before?
Shaking Mattie to consciousness, Taylor had finally relented to go home; only after her subdued friend finally convinced her that fainting spells were quite normal when dealing with such powerful experiences. Taylor had tried to get Mattie to allow her to take her to the emergency room but Mattie had been adamant about the fact that absolutely nothing was amiss. Stubbornly sitting among the pillows on her floor, Mattie had defiantly jutted her chin into the air, refusing to hear Taylor’s concerned reasoning to seek a more orthodox medical opinion. Tossing her hands up into the air as she realized Mattie would never give in; Taylor had finally admitted defeat and gathered her shoes to go home.
As Taylor was heading out the door, Mattie had pressed the disturbing portrait into her hands, insisting that Taylor take it and use it to discover the meaning of the vision they both had just witnessed. Reluctantly, Taylor had finally accepted the portrait, locking it safely away in the trunk of her car. There was no way in hell she was going to allow that thing to ride up front with her on the dark lonely drive home.
Rubbing her weary eyes with her hands, Taylor finally turned the key in the ignition and carefully backed down Mattie’s winding driveway. It was 3a.m. and high time she stopped allowing this superstitious fooferall continue to exhaust her.
The streets were quiet and deserted on the unnerving drive home, the silence worsening Taylor’s uneasiness; each time a red light summoned her to stop. Searching the radio for some sort of distracting music, Taylor quickly hit the off button at the third appearance of the eerie wail of bagpipes between long stretches of static at every other station.
Pulling up to the last stop light before she reached her block, Taylor did a double take at the sight of the strange man standing on the corner across the street. Hand held out to her in invitation, gentle smile encouraging her to join him, the shimmering image of the nameless man of the portrait stood on the sidewalk before her…silently imploring her to accept his presence within her life. Standing at well over six feet in height, his crimson cloak draped carelessly across one shoulder, the image of the man was so clear, she could see the strong play of warrior honed muscles rippling across his shoulders and chest.
Not waiting for the permission of the green light to proceed, Taylor stomped the gas pedal to the floor. Tires squealing, the back end of the car swerved recklessly as she fled from the rattling vision. Afraid to enter her apartment all alone, Taylor sped through the streets until she finally reached the house Chandler was restoring. Knowing he’d spend the night there as he always did on his days off; Chandler was the only island of sanity she could think of in the midst of all this madness. Pulling up into the driveway, Taylor dashed from the car to the porch, pounding on the door until a flickering light finally appeared in the hallway.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he scratched the stubble of his beard, Chandler barely cracked the door until he recognized Taylor’s hysterical voice pleading for him to let her in. Immediately throwing the door open wide at the terror in Taylor’s voice, Chandler was instantly wide-awake as he pulled Taylor into the house. Once safely inside, Taylor plastered herself to Chandler’s chest, her unrecognizable sobs muffled against his shirt.
“Whoa….Taylor, w-what’s going on…are you hurt…what is it?” Chandler gently peeled Taylor away from his body, attempting to lower her level of hysteria enough for him to understand what she was saying.
“He’s after me…he’s after m-me..” Taylor sobbed uncontrollably, the unexplainable events of the night finally taking their toll on her sense of reality. Every time she closed her eyes, she could still see the handsome smiling face of the man imploring her to come to him.
Chandler ripped aside the old sheet covering the front window, peering out into the night for the unknown assailant. Holding Taylor against his chest with one arm, he absent-mindedly consoled her with shushing sounds as he searched for this man that had frightened her so. Her car seemed deserted, although she had left the driver’s side door open in her mad dash to the front porch. The street lights shown up and down the lane, leaving no shadows large enough for anyone to hide within. Satisfied that his search was in vain, Chandler let the sheet drop back down across the window, gathering Taylor’s trembling body closer in a reassuring embrace.
“Taylor, it’s all right now…whoever it was is gone and you’re safe…you’ve got to calm down,” Chandler whispered into her tousled blonde hair tickling against his chest. He smoothed her silky hair away from her face, tenderly kissing her temple as he cradled her in his arms. “I’m sleeping in the pantry tonight. I’ve got a pallet all fixed up…I’m going to go shut your car door then we’ll go back there and you can tell me everything that happened.”
Taylor silently nodded, snuffling and hiccuping into her sleeve, as she gradually grew calmer. Returning from locking up her car, Chandler retrieved his flashlight from the windowsill, directing the steady beam of light along the floor ahead of them. Carefully weaving their way through sawhorses and piles of lumber, Chandler gently led Taylor to the temporary bedroom he’d put together in the back of the house. Pausing in the kitchen long enough to snatch a couple of plastic cups from off the counter, Chandler retrieved a bottle of water out of the cooler beside the doorway; then steered Taylor to the welcoming pile of quilts and pillows in the corner of the adjoining room.
Lighting the kerosene lantern perched atop the drum of nails, Chandler grinned apologetically, “I haven’t gotten this part of the house re-wired just yet, so, I’m afraid to use the electricity.”
Accepting a cup full of ice water, Taylor smiled, “It’s fine…as long as you’re here…I’ll be fine.” Still trembling from the unsettling experiences of the evening, Taylor gripped the lightweight plastic cup so tightly it crushed, spilling the contents down the front of her shirt.
“Taylor, I’ve never seen you like this…what happened?” Chandler jumped to rescue the strangled cup from her grasp as he grabbed a towel from the nearby doorknob. Mopping Taylor’s shirt with one hand, he gently led her to the pallet of quilts, easing her down into there midst, as he searched her terrified face.
Eyeing Chandler with uncertainty, Taylor took a deep breath, wondering just how to explain everything so that he wouldn’t think she’d completely lost her mind. Chandler Donnelly was extremely understanding but the experiences Taylor needed to share would require a massive amount of tolerance even for him. As she looked into the concerned gray eyes, Taylor wasn’t quite sure where to begin. He looked like an over-sized child with his sandy hair at wild angles; the fly of his jeans barely fastened since he’d missed two of the buttons on the way up. Even though dawn was quickly approaching, he stood patiently waiting for Taylor to explain what had caused her to seek sanctuary in the halfway renovated home of his dreams.
Patting the quilt beside her, Taylor held her other hand up in invitation. “Sit by me…hold me while I try to explain,” she whispered, her voice soft and anxious.
Arching his sandy brows in surprise, Chandler quickly dropped to the quilts beside her, gathering her up into his arms as though she were a child suffering the after affects of a horrible nightmare. He cradled her shivering body against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her. It was unlike Taylor to be so outspoken about needing to be reassured. She was always the iron wall of strength, never needing anyone to take care of her...almost to the point of being standoffish. Gently stroking her silky hair, Chandler placed a quick kiss to her forehead then whispered into her ear, “Tell me.”
Taylor took a deep breath and snuggled herself tighter into his embrace. “I went to Mattie’s house tonight and…well…she sort of told my future.” As she felt his body stiffen, she rushed to continue, “You know I don’t usually believe in that stuff…but tonight was different, Chandler.” Taylor pressed her head tightly against his chest, more to avoid seeing the expression on his face then to gather comfort from his presence. “Tonight, I saw the visions with her…Mama talked to me,” she whispered in a barely audible voice.
Sighing deeply as he continued to twine her hair loosely through his fingers, Chandler remained silent, patiently waiting for Taylor to continue at her own pace. He knew how tormented Taylor was over her mother’s continual suffering. All the miracles of medicine seemed to be able to do at this point were prolong her mother’s tormented condition, rather then release her from its cruel grasp. Constance McKenna hadn’t yet reached the point of requiring a ventilator or other life-support devices to survive. Therefore, she was doomed to lay there and wait for her body to finally cease functioning completely. Since her mother was already on dialysis before she lapsed into her unresponsive state, it was legally and emotionally impossible for Taylor to cease the treatments…to do so at this point would be tantamount to murder. Perhaps this endless struggle had finally eroded away at Taylor’s emotional well being, bringing her to the teetering edge of hysteria where she seemed to be so precariously perched. Chandler slowly rocked her in his arms. “What did she say, Taylor?” he murmured, carefully prodding her to speak.
Twice Upon a Soul Page 3
