Oak & Mistletoe

by McCauley, J. Z. N.

  “She saw us. We didn’t want her to tell anyone,” said one man, his brown hair whipping in the wind. It had picked up, and everyone but Conall now felt the crisp air scrape at their faces. Conall was too heated to notice, his madness rising and falling at random.

  His wildness calmed momentarily, but his eyes still looked enraged. He walked towards Kathleen. Kathleen looked up at him angrily, dried tears and dirt staining her cheeks. He leaned down and pulled her fallen hair away from her face in one swoop of his hand. Catherine clenched her fists as she watched.

  Kathleen grit her teeth and glared back at him. “Hmm . . .” he said in a guttural voice, “and why were you watching these men?” Kathleen said nothing. “Speak!” he screamed, and Kathleen started but held her ground.

  A tall man in the group stepped forward. “Our language, no doubt, is not the same, Conall. She cannot know what it is you say,” he put his palms out to reassure Conall he meant no challenge to his authority.

  Catherine was still watching helplessly from the tree line. She had no idea what language these men were speaking, but they were definitely not from around here. She had to think quickly about how to get Kathleen out of there. She hadn’t time to go run for help. She pulled out her phone to tell Danny where she was in one text, but before she could explain what to do, she was discovered. Pulled up roughly by her arms and dragged while she struggled to free herself, she dropped her phone where she had been hiding in the process.

  Catherine was thrown down by her sister who pulled herself free in that instant from one of the men holding her arms with their painful grasp. She reached for her embrace.

  “Catherine! Thank God! I didn’t think I would ever see you again! These men grabbed me when I was looking for the earring. I think they thought I was spying on them. I didn’t even notice them, but they won’t listen to me. I can’t understand a word they’re saying,” she said frantically.

  “It’s okay, I told Danny where we were. We just have to hope he gets here soon with help,” Catherine explained quickly and held Kathleen in her arms.

  Everyone was staring at the two women with blank expressions. Except for Conall, who was watching intently with deep interest.

  “Why, they’re twins!” he said excitedly, looking them over.

  Catherine somehow knew what he said, for she saw realization flash across his face, and a shiver ran through her. He locked eyes with hers and stood still for a moment. The tall man walked out and spoke to Conall quietly.

  “I don’t care if you think it’s a bad omen or not!” Conall shouted savagely as he waved his hand at the man, “I’ll do as I please!” and ended it with a slap across his face without holding back. The man flinched in pain, but backed away lowering his head in submission.

  Kathleen was burying her face in Catherine’s neck. Catherine held her tight, but looked away from Conall when she saw movement a ways off. Catherine’s eyes widened. “Bowen,” she breathed out.

  Conall heard, and understood instantly. “Bowen?!” he shouted. He grew livid with rage, his neck and mad eyes whirling around.

  Bowen had been trying to approach stealthily. Now he stood still, a mixed look of frustration and pity fixed on the mad man staring at him some distance away.

  In a cool slithery voice Conall said, “Oh Bowen! After all this time, to see you standing looking just as you did before, at last, I am happy. I told you I would be free, I knew it would happen!” he walked a few steps away from Catherine and gestured towards them. “One of them is your woman, am I right?”

  Bowen said nothing.

  “I’ll not be ignored, Bowen!”

  Bowen shook his head, exasperated.

  Conall threw himself toward the twins and ripped them from each other. He grabbed Catherine’s face and looked at her closely while screaming at Bowen, “It’s this one, the more defiant one!” He put his other arm around her shoulder pulling her body closer. Disgusted, Catherine held her breath and clamped her mouth shut as his spittle dampened her face. She turned her body sideways and pushed with her arms using all her strength. But Conall was stronger.

  Bowen ran towards them but was blocked by the wild crowd. They held him steadfast. He yelled and flung out an outstretched hand through the wall of people, grasping at air. Panic and frustration flooded through him.

  Conall grinned evilly at Catherine, “Thank you for releasing me,” he whispered, their noses just inches apart.

  Catherine’s eyes were tearing up. She couldn’t fathom what he wanted from her.

  “I have her, Bowen!” Conall screamed, “And because she is so important to you, I will make you suffer by making her suffer!” He turned to face Bowen, “It’s only fair . . .” he gave him a lingering smile.

  “Conall, don’t do this!” Bowen fiercely pleaded.

  Suddenly Catherine was released and pushed to the side. Conall ran inhumanly fast at Kathleen. She screamed, though it was quickly stifled as he picked her up by the neck and started choking her. A smile spread widely across his face. Catherine steadied herself, then looked up in horror. She threw herself at him but Conall was like a heavy bronze statue, entirely unmoving. She felt weak and helpless. Time was almost out! Catherine began to panic.

  Kathleen was crying as she gasped for air. She tried to pry at Conall’s hands and arms. She tried to kick and push, but Conall held his grip firmly and looked over at Bowen with a smirk. He relished Bowen’s pained and tortured face as he helplessly watched. He looked down at Catherine like an evil cat over a trapped mouse, and upon seeing her sorrow, he became frenzied with excitement. Looking back at Kathleen, he brought her nearer to him and with a brisk flick of his wrist snapped her neck, letting her body drop. In one horrid instant, Kathleen was gone. Her body lay limp on the ground as lingering tears wet the dirt beneath her.

  When Catherine heard the cracking of cartilage and bones, everything stopped. Shocked into silence and stillness, she felt her sister ripped away from within her. Now there was nothing. Catherine dropped to her knees, grabbing her head with both hands, her nails digging into her scalp, releasing a bloodcurdling scream while slamming her eyes shut.

  Conall motioned for his followers to let go of Bowen. He ran to Kathleen’s body and felt her pulse. She was gone.

  Conall stood over him. “This is only the beginning of your suffering Bowen,” he spit out his name in disgust, as though it were a creeping crawling thing. Then Conall looked over at the tall man who had tried to warn him about the omen and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll kill the other twin soon enough.”

  The man simply nodded humbly in acknowledgment.

  Bowen looked sorrowful and his arms rested, palms upward, on his thighs. He raised his eyes from the empty vessel that once held the soul and spirit of Kathleen. They met Conall’s. Conall seemed unsettled by this but didn’t react.

  “How could you keep doing this to innocent people, Conall? I was right that day when I told them you had gone mad. You can’t control it now, can you? Are you completely gone now?” Bowen said, his gaze searching Conall’s face, as though desperately trying to see through a fog in the distance. He hoped to see a glimpse of a man he once knew. Not the distorted person standing before him.

  “I told you I’d make you speak to me again, Bowen. You made me do this! It has always been your doing. Her blood is on your hands, not mine. Just like the blood of . . .” he stopped short and shivered madly. His eyes were filled with panic and pain. One of his followers, though she had originally been from a different druid order, came up to Conall and put her hands on his head. Conall still shook but was drawn to her face. “Thank you, my sister,” he whispered. He seemed weakened then and laid his head in his own hands weeping. The woman moved her arms around him for comfort as they turned away. She peered back at Bowen and narrowed her eyes in hatred.

  Bowen watched them walk away toward the hills. Their figures didn’t take long to disappear in the darkening twilight. Darkness seemed to be rapidly pouring itself over the land. Bowen drea
ded what was to come, not just from Conall but from the next few moments. He turned to see Catherine, a blank stare across her face. She didn’t flinch when Bowen was in front of her closely, trying to see into her eyes through the dark. Her hands and fingers felt like bones covered with soft ice when he touched them. He pulled his hand back suddenly in surprise. Her face looked ghostly in the night. “Catherine?”

  Silence.

  Bowen became afraid, “Catherine?!” he shouted as he stood her up with him and gently shook her. He held her close to him and rubbed his hands up and down her back to try to warm her. His face buried down in her neck and he could feel she was breathing a steady breath, though all of her exposed flesh was cold and clammy from her sweat mixed with the cold. Bowen pushed her back to look at her face again, his hands rubbing her cheeks.

  “Please . . .” he said quietly, “show me you’re still there.”

  Catherine blinked and slowly her eyes cleared. She saw Bowen before her. “Bowen . . .”

  “Yes, it’s me!” he hugged her close, turning her away from the cold lifeless body on the ground.

  “I saw you, you saved us! Kathleen will be so relieved. What happened? Where did everyone go?”

  Bowen said nothing but kept holding her tightly. Catherine grew nervous. She flinched involuntarily. “Bowen,” she said slowly “where’s Kathleen?”

  Bowen squeezed tighter, “I’m sorry, just keep breathing, Catherine,” he said, his voice muffled in the neck of her jacket.

  Catherine’s breath hitched. “Let go of me! Where the hell is my sister, Bowen?!” she shouted angrily.

  Bowen pulled away and turned his head. He didn’t want to see what was coming. He didn’t want to see Catherine destroyed again. Catherine glared at him for a moment, then looked around and realized for the first time how dark it was. She knew suddenly that something terrible had happened. She felt an emptiness she had never felt before. She was no longer her whole self.

  After she turned around, Catherine stood still. She stared down at her sister for a few moments before slowly scooping her up in her arms and sitting down in one fluid motion. Holding Kathleen close, she looked at her face and caressed her cheeks.

  “Kathleen?” she whispered once, and then again louder. Each time she grew increasingly hysterical.

  “Kathleen, please! KATHLEEN!” she screeched painfully, burying her face on Kathleen’s chest and sobbing as she rocked back and forth.

  Bowen stood a few steps away. Her wretched state clawed at his heart. After some time, he noticed it was getting unbearably colder. The night had crept in entirely. Catherine had fallen silent and still. She stared out ahead.

  Bowen held back his own sadness and crouched down to grab Catherine’s shoulder, “We need to go get help, Catherine. We can’t stay here any longer,” he said gently.

  Catherine stopped moving and said rigidly, “No . . .”

  “Catherine?”

  “I’m not leaving her here alone!” she yelled and looked straight up at Bowen. Though it was dark, the light of the starry sky let Bowen see her torn face and tears streaming down her cheeks to fall off her chin. It wracked his spirit.

  Catherine suddenly ripped Bowen’s hand off her shoulder and threw herself at him viciously.

  “Catherine, stop! Stop!” Bowen grabbed at her flailing arms and fists.

  Catherine grew weak and let her head fall on Bowen’s chest, her balled fists on either side. Bowen relaxed his grip and put his arms around her shaking body.

  “Catherine,” he said with severity in his voice, “listen to me, this is not the place to do this. I will get you home, and everything will be better. But you must do as I say. Let me help you.”

  When no answer came, he grabbed Catherine so they were face to face. “Catherine, I genuinely care about you,” he said very seriously. Catherine could see the concern in his eyes, and snapped herself to a state coherent enough to follow directions.

  “I-I don’t want her to be left here alone . . .” She looked down forlornly.

  Bowen looked at Kathleen’s dead body for a moment thoughtfully. “Okay,” he said and letting go of Catherine he leaned down and scooped the body up in his arms. “Let’s go.”

  Catherine lingered over the spot Kathleen had been, where she had held her closely to her chest. She closed her eyes remembering what it felt like to feel Kathleen’s face warm on her neck. She balled her fists again and clenched them to her collarbone. She remembered what it was like just a short time ago to feel Kathleen’s arms hugging her back.

  “Catherine, come with me now,” Bowen’s voice called to her from a short distance away, heading towards the direction of home.

  *

  Danny led Catherine to her room and sat her down on the bed. Catherine didn’t move, staring ahead with a horrified blankness.

  “I’m not going to . . . I can’t deal with this . . .” Danny stammered, but Catherine said nothing.

  Danny looked at his sister’s stricken face and realized she was like an empty shell. He understood. His own heart was aching in his chest, and his stomach felt sick. He wanted badly to go to sleep and never wake up again. He wanted to talk to Catherine about it. To tell her how he felt. To ask her what she saw, and how their sister was taken from them. He was angry, but he was more sad than angry right now. Danny didn’t want to cause more pain to Catherine. She already looked like she would never be the same again.

  “Catherine, I’ll check on you in a little while. Try to sleep,” he said moving his hand through the top of her hair gently. Just like Kathleen’s hair. That fact both helped him, and hurt him.

  When Danny left the room Catherine remained exactly as she was. Her face was sunken, and dark circles traced her puffy eyes. She seemed to have aged a full decade in that one night. At first she was as still as stone, but slowly she started to fidget with her now warm hands. Nervously she picked at a small hole in the fabric of her long sleeved shirt. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. Danny’s last words. Suddenly some morning light streamed into her room. The entire night had finally passed. Sleep, Danny said . . . she could never sleep again. Or so she felt. Never the same. It would be nothing but tortured and fitful hours of struggle for sleep for her now. No, it would be easier to stay awake and die from exhaustion.

  *

  Bowen sat on a large padded chair in the living room downstairs, his chin resting on his hand. He thought about Conall, about the night trying to stabilize Catherine long enough to get her home to a safe place. He slowly blinked away the memory of how empty she looked when he told Danny what happened. What would he do now that Conall was released? How could he keep him away from Catherine, and stop his plans? He didn’t know.

  Danny appeared then, leaning in the archway and eyeing him suspiciously. Bowen closed his eyes.

  “She needs to know what’s behind all of this. Frankly so do I,” he told Bowen flatly.

  Bowen nodded before returning Danny’s gaze, “You’re right, of course.” He waited knowingly.

  Danny walked over and sat across from Bowen, his eyes narrowing. “Bowen, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to tell you what I think, okay?” Danny asked, and Bowen nodded his assent.

  “I’m thinking you should go tell my sister what she needs to know so she can eventually find closure. I’m also thinking that when that’s over you need to leave and never come back. I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want my sister to see you. I don’t know who you are, and really I just don’t care. But you have no business being in our lives, so you need to leave as quickly as you arrived,” he said in an even tone.

  Bowen listened intently. He was used to people hating him by now. “I do not blame you for hating me, Danny,” he said “and I understand if you hold me accountable for Kathleen’s death.”

  Danny blinked slowly a few times and sat back on the couch.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from killing her. I am so terribly sorry you lost her,” Bow
en finished.

  Danny’s eyes were red from stress and tears. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and stood over Bowen for a brief moment. He looked conflicted, then steadied himself.

  “I may forgive you. We’ll see if Catherine will,” was all he said before leaving the room.

  *

  Catherine didn’t sleep. Just as she knew she couldn’t. She had laid down to rest, and wept interchangeably throughout the day and next night, but still no sleep came. Danny knocked on the door and came in to try to convince her to eat a few times, but to no avail. One time in and out of drowsiness she thought Bowen was in the room sitting across from her, but it was too dark and she was too weak to be sure. Danny helped her force down some water eventually, which helped her burning throat as the cycle continued.

  Catherine lost track of time. She would have to return to work eventually, but she couldn’t imagine ever returning to normal life. Catherine felt like her whole identity was gone. Could she ever reclaim a future for herself without her twin sister? Days like this droned on. She finally slept on the fourth day, but fitfully, woken multiple times by horrific nightmares that resulted in her being drenched in sweat and tears while her throat ached from the screams escaping it. Each time Danny would check on her, or she would wake up being held by Danny as he tried to calm her down. Often she would be screaming and wouldn’t wake from it. Catherine felt trapped, she saw no end to the torture.

  One night she stayed perfectly still in her bed with the light on for hours. The moon was out and stars winked at her through her window. She fell in and out of sleep. She thought of Kathleen and that horrible day. And then Catherine popped up in her bed, her eyes finding the closed door of her bedroom in front of her. My God she thought. Catherine remembered finally. In her dreams it had all happened right in front of her. As she slept she felt trapped in her frozen body, forced to watch the scene play out. Tears streamed down her cheeks freely. She didn’t cringe. She silently cried, still as a corpse. After a while she realized she wasn’t just crying over missing her sister, or at witnessing her sister’s death. She was crying because she felt angry. So many times Catherine had jumped in to protect Kathleen. But she couldn’t save her this time. With all her strength she had tried. She now felt weak, and had been made a victim. She was angry with herself for not being strong when Kathleen needed her to be.