Water and Stone

by Glover, Dan

  When she woke he'd gone.

  She lay in bed a moment stretching and yawning and wondering what it was that had brought her out of her slumbers and if she might roll over and go back to sleep for a few minutes. Still, the sunlight piercing the window shade made it impossible to keep her eye lids closed and it was too warm to pull the covers over her head.

  Evalena heard it now... a soft thumping... that must have been what woke her in the first place. Initially she thought it might be her own heart beating but then she realized the sound was coming from under the chabola... like something deep underground begging to be released from its prison.

  Listening to the rhythmic drumming she understood it as a sign informing her that her will had been done... the woman was dead. Billy was such a good boy for bringing his mother's necklace to her as a gift. Oh, but she knew he'd be distraught and filled with remorse over having a hand in his own mother's death... it'd be the final melancholia of his short and unhappy life.

  He brought it on himself.

  During the night she'd dreamed that she heard someone talking... at first Evalena thought she was awake it. She'd rolled over and saw Billy was gone so she got up and went to the single window and peered out.

  "Billy? What are you doing out there?"

  The window was open and when she leaned out to call to him the boy ignored her. Either he had gone deaf or else she wasn’t actually standing by the window calling to him... she was still asleep in bed inside a dream.

  Billy was standing in the yard with her sister—a pair of wraiths dazzled by moonbeams—and though their voices were but whispers in the dark Evalena cast an ear toward the speakers the way dreaming had taught her to do and it all became clear.

  They were conspiring against her.

  She knew her sister held an old grudge against her but Billy? Why would he listen to the lies of a woman he barely knew, especially after the love they just made? Men were all the same... once they got what they wanted they moved on to other things. Their attention spans were so short they could scarcely remember their own names.

  Billy had brought her a splendid gift... one he must've pilfered from his mother's jewelry box at her urgings. The necklace was even engraved with her name which made it all the more useful though apparently the silly boy had overlooked that.

  "Bring me something pretty, Billy."

  "Like what, Evalena? I don't know what you like."

  "Your mother must have lots of fine jewelry, Billy. She wouldn’t miss one little trinket, would she?"

  "I guess not... why do you want something of my mother's?"

  "It'll make me feel all the closer to you, Billy."

  At the time Evalena didn't know Billy would scheme against her with her sister but she suspected it. Billy and Church were thick as thieves. She envied them how close they were. She'd never been that way with anyone... even her fathers kept secrets from her.

  Conjuring a familiar was a difficult proposition even with a personal article of the intended... without it... she stood no chance. Evalena couldn't risk doing what needed to be done in person. It had to look like an accident... a medical emergency unanswered.

  A simple grain of sand along with a breath sufficed to draw what she required from the stone even without it being in her possession... she had to take care, however, for there was precious little material left and without the stone there was no way to procure more. One of her fathers had taught her the trick... by taking a handful of sand, dropping it through the box, and then carefully collecting it, the granules possessed some small part of the magic of the piedra.

  The stone acted as a portal to another realm... not a world so much as an entire universe all its own. Those who were adept at tapping into its power could draw demons and saints from that alternate universe. For her purposes, Evalena summoned an old friend. Her name had once been Josephine.

  The woman had been with the family for ages. As time wore on Josephine slowly succumbed to the lure of the piedra but not without the help of Evalena.

  She had teased the woman with the stone, told her tales full of half truths and even outright lies, all to tempt Josephine into becoming what Evalena most needed: an ally against the storms of the world raging around her.

  "The stone has music for those who listen."

  "Is that what I hear, Evalena? I could never be sure if it's music or simply the wind or perhaps even the sound of water upon stone."

  "If you hear the music, Josephine, you're forever marked by the piedra. It's calling to you. Only a special few notice the melody."

  "May I see it, Evalena?"

  "Of course you can, Josephine. Would you like to hold it?"

  As soon as Josephine uttered the words Evalena knew she was ensnared within the spell of the stone. If the woman ever wondered why she had lived so long while those all around her perished of old age Josephine had never said. Perhaps she understood there was a price to pay and didn't wish to call attention to it.

  It happened to everyone who encountered the piedra. No matter how well-meaning they were in the beginning, eventually they gave in to the desire to possess it and in doing so were instead possessed. That was the great enigma upon which the known world was built. A person was bound to draw upon themselves the thing they feared the most.

  "When did I grow so old, Evalena? It seems only yesterday that I was still a girl."

  Josephine was right. Age had caught up to her with a punishment not dissimilar to the divine retribution normally reserved for the wicked.

  "Hush, Josephine... save your strength."

  The old woman died with a wild light in her eyes, as if she had seen too much to continue to live in the world of the everyday. Now, she belonged to the stone and to Evalena by proxy... and she was back if only for an instant.

  She hadn't lived so long by being careless. By foreseeing every possible eventuality it was possible to not only forestall death but to eliminate it all together. Her fathers taught her many things not the least of which was how not to die... yet she didn't fear death.

  Her time at the Triple Six was limited. Even now the word was out that she was here. More men showed up each day obstinately to pay their respects yet one morning she might well find the one person she feared at her door.

  She kept to the shadows. She wallowed in the filth and the disease of the world drowning in its feces and urine and slime. If she had the piedra in her possession none of the hiding would be necessary. At the same time, however, she recognized its pull.

  That was why she gave it away so long ago... she felt the emptiness of the thing that promised fulfillment. Had she kept it she too would have become trapped in its promise of forever while simultaneously being pulled into the chains of desire.

  She'd seen it happen time and again and to people with far more strength than she possessed. Josephine had been a girl hardened by the trials of five hundred years yet within a fraction of that time her willpower to live had been dissolved as if in acid.

  Josephine wouldn’t have been her first choice in doing away with Lorraine Ford but then that was something rarely allotted to those who did the conjuring. What did she care anyway... as long as the job was done.

  Billy would be devastated... doubtlessly he would blame Yani. She was the one who made him swear on his mother's life. The simple people of Texas were much like the Cubans she once knew and tolerated. They were a superstitious lot ready to believe in anything that promised a solution to the great unknown.

  He wouldn't be alive much longer anyway, but it'd pay to stay close to Billy now. If someone—anyone—came between them it could prove fatal to all her carefully laid plans. She wouldn't have to chase after the piedra... it would be laid at her feet just as she'd foreseen. Yet she also knew how fickle the Fates could be when they started playing their infernal games.

  Billy didn't know where the stone was hidden yet he needed to figure that out for himself. That was the key. If she pressed him too hard he would turn on her like a rabid dog
might its owner. The piedra slowly drove the lesser ones insane while at the same time strengthening those who were equal to its powers. Billy was one of the former while Church the latter.

  She indulged herself in Billy it was true but only to guide him into realizing that which he already knew. Most people were like that... they had no idea of the power they held and had even less inclination to seek for it.

  It was pointless to prolong the agony any longer than necessary but she did find herself enjoying the touch of the boy. It'd been too long since she'd felt as close to anyone as she did to Billy. Yet she knew the love they both sought could never endure.

  He was a method... a way to reach the treasure she sought. Still, when he looked at her she sometimes found herself wishing she was simply a girl and not what she was. If she could, she'd trade places with Yani in an instant.

  Billy'd be back soon... and then it would be time to begin.

  Chapter 20

  Perhaps it was something she'd eaten for breakfast.

  Like her father Lorraine always had a robust appetite. It didn’t matter what time of the day or night it was she liked to eat and she liked to surround herself with others who also enjoyed their meals. It didn’t make her feel like such a hog.

  Even as girl she was bigger than most of her peers but after Billy was born Lorraine seemed to inflate like a dirigible filling to the point of bursting. Being around Yani at the Triple Six hacienda made her feel like an elephant in a room with a hyena... the girl who fed them and kept the house clean was as tiny as a child even after it was clear she too had given birth.

  Lorraine didn’t want anyone else to know who the father of Church was... she already knew it was her husband's child. She'd made peace with his playing around long ago but it hurt her to think all the other women of Guthrie were cackling behind her back about the little boy named Church and how like all wives in similar situations poor Lorraine would be the last to know.

  She had never liked Texas. For years she tried to pry Rancher away... to get him to at least buy a place back east where they could vacation. All the man ever did was work and despite her protestations that he needed to take time to enjoy himself he was resolute about the lifestyle he led.

  "Father's asked me to help him on his upcoming campaign. I'm thinking of leaving at the end of the week. I'm really hoping we might go together this time, Rancher... you need to get away from this dusty old place if only for a week or two."

  "You know there's nothing in the world I enjoy more than ranching, Lorraine. Why, if I was to take a trip east all I'd be doing was thinking about the Triple Six. I couldn’t take pleasure in some high-falutin' eastern country like Virginia. I'd be as out of place as an oyster in the desert."

  She knew he enjoyed her trips back east as much as she did. It gave him more opportunity to pursue his real vocation: women. Oh, she'd no doubt that he loved ranching every bit as much as he claimed but chasing the parade of pretty Guthrie women seemed to occupy just as much of his time.

  They'd never shared a bed. She snored. She'd tried all the remedies for her affliction except for losing weight which was what the doctor finally told her was the only solution for her problem.

  Lorraine had gone on a billion diets in her life... some lasted minutes while others lasted nearly a full day... some of the most dreadful days she could recall. She'd tried all the fads even giving up meat, ice cream, chocolate, and all the other foods she craved. It didn’t matter what she ate... it made her fat.

  Looking around the hacienda for the last time she wondered if that was why Rancher had married her... because he knew her father would give them the money to build the immense ranch house. But how could he know that? And besides, Rancher was already a wealthy man when she met him the first time.

  He lived like a pauper, however. Driving through the dust of Texas to reach his home Lorraine kept imagining an enormous three story mansion with a row of enormous white colonnades in front and forty servants and barns spread out everywhere. Instead, when they drove up the long drive to the shack hunkered like a vagrant in the weeds she thought they had been given wrong directions.

  "I like to spend all my money on land."

  He knew she disapproved of his abode but laughed it off. Maybe that was the moment that she fell in love with him. All her life she'd been surrounded by vast wealth and suddenly here was a man probably richer than all of them yet living like a vagabond... the shack didn’t even have running water.

  "I don’t see how any man can live like that, Miss Townsend."

  Edward Best had accompanied her on that trip. They had gone to Rancher Ford to enlist his help with her father's Presidential campaign which ultimately had faltered right out of the starting gate. Still, Rancher had been extremely accommodating to both her and Edward... he had even ordered a portable toilet brought in exclusively for their visit.

  "I like the rustic nature of his home, Edward. Still, one would think he might at least drill a well."

  "I'd like it a little better if he at least had an indoor toilet."

  She remembered how she tended towards Edward's sentiments and yet something intrigued her about Rancher Ford... his intensity and single-mindedness was almost legendary in that county and she could see why.

  "How old do you think he is, Edward?"

  "I know exactly how old his is, Miss Townsend."

  "How do you know so much about that man, Edward?"

  "Per your father I ran a background check on him."

  "Are you going to tell me what you discovered or do I have to bribe you with a hundred dollar bill?"

  It was an old family joke. Edward's father had held the office of Secretary of State in Pennsylvania for some thirty five years. In fact the man died while still in office. Upon his death, some fifty shoe boxes filled with hundred dollar bills were discovered stacked neatly in the old man's closet. Rather than being ashamed of it, Edward actually seemed proud of how his father had gotten away with his malfeasance for so long.

  "Rancher Ford is twenty five years old, he hails from Hobart, Indiana, and he has no family to speak of. Apparently he left home at an early age and no one cared too much that he was gone... at least not enough to report him missing."

  "So he was a throw-away kid. There's nothing special about that, Edward."

  "Well, according to my sources Rancher Ford showed up in Guthrie penniless and without shoes on his feet. He went to work for a local business man and within a decade ending up buying him out along with most of the other buildings in town."

  "I see... that's impressive. Tell me more, Edward."

  "As near as I can make out he's telling the truth about spending all his money on land. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t gamble. He has no lady friends. During the last ten years he has acquired nearly ten thousand acres of land and he runs twice that many cattle."

  "That is an odd name for a man from Indiana, Edward. Did he change it?"

  "No, that’s the strange thing. He was christened Rancher Ford."

  "So you say he has no lady friends... how is that possible, Edward? Is he gay?"

  Edward had turned an ever so slight shade of red when she asked the question. It was her fault. She had forgotten about Edward's predilection toward men. Though she nearly apologized she caught herself knowing it would only make matters worse.

  "If he is, he stays deep inside the closet, Miss Townsend."

  She wondered momentarily if he too had eyes for the rugged individualist who lived like a hermit in a shack she wouldn’t allow her dog to frequent. She was nearly embarrassed by the feelings she had for him and giggled thinking about introducing Rancher Ford to Senator Townsend.

  "I like him, Edward. I think he'll be a real asset to our campaign in Texas."

  It wasn’t long after that Rancher Ford asked for her hand in marriage and she accepted. Somehow, when she looked into her mirror now, an old woman stared back at her. When had all that happened?

  The pain started as something slight, a twin
ge, nothing more. At her age she had become accustomed to the aches that seemed to accompany the changing of the calendar. Sometimes if she shifted her body to just the right position the hurt might subside but this time it only grew worse.

  She'd been sitting too long... that had to be it. The doctor warned her that would happen. It was like having a needle stuck into her back right under her left shoulder blade and when she breathed deeply to help dispel the throbbing it only hurt all the more.

  During the last few days she had noticed a darkness to her urine that disconcerted her... it was like brown ink staining the toilet bowl. She had read articles about how blood in the urine was often a sign of cancer and other more ominous maladies but it was easier to ignore it and hope the normal color returned than to make too much of a fuss over it.

  Her diet was probably the culprit. She remembered eating asparagus and how her pee smelled funny for days afterwards and how she was sure she was coming down with diabetes. Maybe the copious amounts of chocolate candy she'd been consuming lately had a role in coloring her urine brown... it made sense in a weird sort of way.

  Lorraine thought how she might lay down for an hour or so before tea, just to allow her stomach to settle. It had to be the eggs benedict that the awful waiter served at the Senate dining room that morning. She thought about calling father up to see if he had the same symptoms... if he did, it was obviously food poisoning.

  Instead she decided to rest and if she didn’t feel any better upon rising she would pay a visit to Dr. Nelson, her father's personal physician. She couldn’t remember falling asleep but told herself she was dreaming when the hair began to materialize in the corner of the bedroom ceiling, a big bushy head of hair.

  As she watched astonished a young girl no more than fifteen floated down to the floor... she was a dark-skinned beauty with eyes that seemed on fire, as if something inside of the woman was burning with such intensity it had to be let out.

  The wraith walked over to the bed where Lorraine lay. Darkness seemed to pool around the girl's feet as she came ever closer. For an instant she wondered if she should be afraid but she told herself it was only a dream, if a particularly scary one. A second later the darkling girl reached out a hand to touch Lorraine.