by L. M. Abbott
She splashed down into the pool. Cold water seeped through her clothing, dragging her beneath the surface. Her lungs begged for oxygen. The blue light filtered down, crackling with red sparks as it separated into distinct beams and passed through her body. A weariness she had never before experienced overwhelmed her. Her lids fluttered as darkness engulfed her.
She twisted into a ball to warm herself and awakened to a black sky streaked with crimson red. A red fog hung dense in the air. She blinked and the sky was normal, dotted with white clouds and a bright yellow sun. Her hair and clothes were dry. How long had she been here? Wherever here was.
Behind her was a wooded area, thick with pine trees, their branches knotted and warped. They leaned forward as if pulled by an invisible force. In front of her, a town nestled into the hillside, spread out across the horizon. At the top stood a large golden stone building. Four square towers rose from each corner with a fifth dominating the entrance. The sun reflected off the many diamond-shaped windows, radiating a bright golden light over the entire hillside. The diamond-shaped wooden door was half-open. Cailean surveyed the area for any sign of life.
A narrow river separated her from the city. She crossed the stone bridge which arced in a gentle curve and passed houses arranged in horse shoe patterns, made of red brick with white segmented lines running from top to bottom. Four glass steps led up to each home. Huge pale yellow-green flowers sprouted up to the roof tops. Cobble stone roads connected all the dwellings, weaving in and out of each horseshoe section. Red and black flowers grew in bunches along both sides. Cailean peeked in a window and stepped back from a mirror reflection of herself. Nothing was visible on the inside. She tested several other windows with the same result. Fountains, no water sprang from them, sprouted up at even intervals throughout the city with a white stone bench in front of each one.
As she approached the towered building, a hand with three long slender fingers slunk out from inside and gripped the door’s edge. “Hey,” Cailean shouted. “Are you the one who cried out in the cave?” The door closed. “Come back,” she called, pulling on the hooked metal handle. “Is anyone in?” She knocked until her knuckles hurt, then went back down the hill, trying a door here and there with no luck.
On the bridge, she heard a noise resembling a loud burp. The sound reminded her of the noise Seamus made after drinking too much soda pop. Red pebbles, the size of a quarter, lined the river bed. Yellow leafy plants sprouted up in abundance. A grey fish with three long black whiskers swam out of a plant. A second burp. The odd creature swam to another leaf and a black fish swam out. A series of burps followed as more whiskered fish, some grey, others black, most the darkest shade of red she’d even seen emerged from the centre of the plants.
Cailean didn’t turn to the soft patter of steps behind her. “Barlo,” she said. “You should see this.”
A push to her back and she toppled over the rail, belly smacking into the water. She plunged to the bottom and blacked out. Something sticky ran down her chin. She opened her eyes and wiped away Barlo’s saliva. “Where am I?” She scrambled to her feet, her hair and clothes dry. “Barlo! I fitted my bracelet into the holes...” Her voice thickened into a gasp. The bracelet lay around her wrist. She ran out of the cave and didn’t stop until she was home. Her furry companion at her feet, she gently rocked on the porch swing, mulling over what had occurred in the cave when her father stormed out of the house. “I emptied your waste basket this morning. Where’s the slip of paper with the riddle on it?”
Cailean took it out of her pocket. “Dad, I-”
He grabbed the paper, tore it into pieces and threw them away. “I won’t tell you again to let this matter go.” The door slammed behind him.
Seamus and Josh hurried up the hill. “Hey,” Josh said, his sketch pad flapping in the wind. “Where were you?” His face flushed from exertion, he plopped down on the swing next to her. “We looked all over for you.”
“Even checked the Railroad Rocks,” Seamus said. “The fence around Murphy’s field is torn down.”
Josh produced his ‘it’ll be okay smile’ consisting of a half twist to one side of his mouth. “Everyone in town vows to do whatever they can to stop Mr. Murphy’s project.”
Cailean remained quiet.
“You’re not telling us something,” Seamus said. He stared at her until she looked away. “You went to the cave, didn’t you?”
She fidgeted with the stones on her bracelet. “I somehow teleported to a beautiful, odd city with funny looking fish and houses with windows you can’t see through.”
Josh’s mouth gaped open and he clutched his sketch pad to his chest like it was a life support as she elaborated on the other details of the city. “I... I don’t know what to think,” he said.
“I do.” Seamus tilted his head away from the glare of the sun’s light. “She fell asleep and dreamed the whole thing.”
Josh opened his sketch pad with trembling fingers. He shuddered when he came to the last drawing. “I did this about an hour ago.” Cailean and Seamus stared at the black and red sky, the dwarfed trees, the river, the bridge and the city she’d described. “How could I draw what you saw?” He pointed to the bracelet Cailean spun around her wrist. “How could whoever made that know about the stone in the cave?”
Seamus beat out a drum roll on his knee. “This is proof that reading isn`t good for anyone. Magic only happens in books.”
Josh held out his drawing once more. “Then how do you explain this?”
“I can’t. So why don’t we go to the cave and check it out?”
The torn pieces of paper scattered in the wind over the front yard. “Later,” Cailean said. “Anything else happening at Murphy’s field?”
Josh closed his sketch pad. “Mr. Murphy has all the equipment for cutting down trees parked there.”
Cailean recoiled as if Josh had struck her. “He can’t do that. The week’s not up yet. We have to solve the riddle right away.”
Josh exchanged a look with Seamus. “Cailean, why don’t you want us to go to the cave now?”
“The time’s not right.”
“You’re being weird again,” Seamus said. “How do you know that?”
Cailean looked in the direction of the cave. “I sense it.”
chapter 8
The late evening sun did little to warm the chilly air. Cailean buttoned up her sweater and hurried down Garver Street for the craft store to buy homemade pickles for her grandfather. The Loon Cove Cinema sign flashed the arrival of a new movie; a vampire love story. Even Josh would hate that one.
Steve stepped out of the craft shop, a lock of his brown hair dangling down his forehead. “What a shame about your land,” he said. “Oh... wait a minute. It’s not yours.”
A wave of heat washed over Cailean, her shoulders hunched and the hairs on her arms bristled. Her lips curled back to the gums. She felt the growl form in her throat, low at first, then deep, menacing as she rose up on her toes, her knees bent slightly forward. Her eyes narrowed to slits, she threw her head back and howled.
Steve stumbled backwards. “You’re a weirdo like Fatso and Stupid.”
Cailean lurched forward, her hands shaped into claws, white at the knuckles. Her nails snagged a button on his shirt.
“Get away from me, Wacko.” The button ripped away. “Wait till I tell my father,” Steve cried out barrelling down the street.
Cailean’s heart thrashed against her ribs and her whole body shook. Why had she acted like she’d been possessed by a savage animal? Barlo ran towards her, his body like a huge snow ball in motion. She scratched behind his ear unable to banish the dread tightening her stomach muscles. The dog licked her face, and somewhat calmer, she entered the craft store.
Mellie dusted shelves behind the counter, humming softly. “Be with you in a moment,” she said when the bell over the door jangled.
Cailean went to the jewellery section and looked through the bracelets made with natural stone. None were anythi
ng like the one she wore.
“What can I do for you?” Mellie came up behind her, hands folded together, her glasses suspended on a chain around her neck.
“Everybody loves my bracelet. You don’t have any like it on display.”
“My grandmother made it. I’ve tried to duplicate the design. It was too difficult so I gave up.”
“The stones are so beautiful the way they reflect the light. Where did they come from?”
“My mother told me once, but I can’t recall. Let me see. It could have been at a flea market or perhaps on a beach or even in the woods.” Mellie put on her glasses, having once confided to Cailean they helped her concentrate. “Where was it? Yes. Yes. Now I remember.”
The bell over the door jingled. An elderly man sporting a white busy beard and a baseball hat saluted Mellie.
“Where?” Cailean asked.
Mellie looked confused. “Where what?”
“You were about to tell me where the stones come from.”
“Oh dear. I’ve forgotten again.”
Cailean disguised her frustration with a pleasant smile. “Why are the stones designed like a dog?”
The bearded man flipped through a magazine at the counter. “Sorry, Cailean,” Mellie said. “I don’t have time to chat right now.”
Cailean purchased the bottle of pickles and left when three more customers arrived. Barlo played with a soda pop can on the sidewalk. She planked down on the bench and swung her legs, musing over her great-grandfather’s riddle. Barlo pawed at a wasp buzzing around his head. The insect tired of playing and flew away with the dog in pursuit, his barks audible in the distance.
“Why didn’t you talk to her?” a hushed voice said.
Cailean looked up. No one was there.
“It’s too soon,” another voice whispered. “She won’t understand.”
“Time is running out.”
Cailean turned to the forest. “Steve Murphy, you won’t get me to fall for that stupid-” She stopped short. They were the same voices from Murphy’s field. A long, grey bushy tail flicked from behind a silver birch, a brown tail beat against a spruce. She ran towards the trees.
“She hasn’t been prepared like the others.”
“We can’t wait much longer.”
Branches from several trees swayed as if something moved through them. “Who’s there?” Cailean followed the trail of waving branches, unaware that night closed in. Something skirted over her feet. In the fading light, she saw a squirrel scurry up a tree. A flock of pigeons swooped down and landed a few feet away.
A twig cracked behind her. Cailean spun around and saw both ponies. The Brown scuffed the earth with a front hoof, the Grey swished its tail from side to side.
The pickles slipped from her hand. “You were there when I heard the strange voices in Murphy’s field.” As she stooped to pick up the bottle the ponies galloped off. She rushed home, not taking the time to drop off the pickles to her grandfather.
“Get Seamus and come over right away,” she barked into the phone. She hung up the receiver, toasted a chicken sandwich and went to her room. The glow from the desk light fell on her when she sat down, lengthening her shadow across the room. A family album lay open to a page full of her baby pictures ranging from a week to two years old. She looked up at the sound of her grandfather climbing the stairs, his gait heavier and slower than her father’s.
“I take it the pickles on the table are mine.”
“Yes. Gramps, I don’t understand why my eyes are blue in my baby pictures.” Cailean thumbed through several pages. “I’ve seen these pictures plenty of times and never noticed the difference before.”
“I assumed you knew everyone in your mother’s family are born with blue eyes which change colour at about two years old.”
“Isn’t that odd?”
“Odd but lovely. Did I ever tell you about the time both my eyes were yellow and green for a week? I was six years old and throwing rocks at the church door. One hit the priest’s cross as he came out and bounced back at me.” Gramps chuckled. “The priest laughed so hard he fell down.”
A familiar story which sounded funnier each time her grandfather told it.
He left her pouring through the album. She’d looked through every picture twice more when a shuffle and a groan announced Seamus and Josh.
“Out with it,” Seamus said. “What wouldn’t you tell Josh over the phone.”
“Keep you voice down. I don’t want Dad or Gramps to hear.”
Traces of chocolate custard were visible on Josh’s upper lip. “I couldn’t eat supper fast enough. Didn’t even take time for seconds.”
Cailean recited the riddle. “‘The horn has grown, the blue then yellow will put pen to tesello, wipe away tears of the Weeping Widows, follow the Secret It Hides’. The second line is talking about me.”
“What!” Seamus said. “I suppose next you’ll tell me I’m one of the weeping widows.”
“I’ve been going through my baby pictures. Look at my eyes.”
Josh took one out from behind the plastic covering. He inspected it under the lamp light and even through the magnifying glass he kept in his pocket. “They’re blue.”
“Not any more.” Cailean opened her eyes wide for them to see. “Now they’re a mixture of green and yellow. See?”
Seamus stared at them. “Gotta be a mistake. The camera didn’t work right.”
“Mine are blue until I’m two years old.” Cailean’s finger travelled over a line of photos in the album, the last few taken when she was three. “Gramps told me Mom’s eyes were blue until she was two like all the members of her family.”
“This is fantastic,” Josh shouted.
Cailean clamped a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet. I don’t want the whole town in on this.”
Josh gave her a funny look. “What’s up with you lately?”
“Nothing. I’m worried about the forest. We have to find the deed.”
“The riddle is complicated,” Josh said. “We may never figure it out.”
“Yeah,” Seamus added. “Once school starts we won’t have much time for any fun.”
“We have to try.” Cailean’s ears perked up. “There’s thumping noises on the side of the house.” She ran to the window. “Look,” she said in a breathless voice. “By the maple tree.”
Obscured by a thin layer of cloud, the moon appeared as a halo. The boys strained to see through the darkness. Seamus threw up the window and thrust his head outside. “I don’t see anything.”
A hole opened in the cloud, releasing the moon.
Josh nearly fell out the window. “I see it!”
Seamus scratched his head. “What could it be?”
As the fog ebbed and flowed amongst the trees a wolf’s shape emerged.
Chapter 9
Early the next morning the sun sneaked through a porthole in the grey sky when Cailean stomped out of the house. Barlo panted behind her and nibbled at her fingers, his tongue hot and moist. She yanked her hand away. “Leave me alone.” The dog whined and looked at her with watery eyes. “Sorry, Barlo.” She took his head in her hands. His big ears drooped over her wrists. “None of this is your fault.” He rubbed his nose on hers. “Let’s get this over with before Aunt Luperca comes looking for me.”
She made her way down the hill and walked a few minutes to the right coming to the church on the outskirts of Loon Cove. Barlo barked at her, the telltale sign he wanted her to follow him. “Sorry, Fella, not today. If I got lost Dad will think I planned it on purpose”
Organ music blasted from inside the church as Cailean hurried behind it. “Just what I need,” she grumbled.
Josh sketched in his pad on the lone picnic table and looked up when she rounded the corner. Seamus tossed a basketball into a net tacked to a leafless tree. “You’re fifteen minutes late,” he said. “What kept you?”
“Aunt Luperca barged into the house this morning expecting me to spend the next couple of days with her in
Brook City. She’ll make a fuss if I don’t go.” Cailean sat down across from Josh, her arms loose at her sides. “Gramps convinced Dad to let me go with her. I bet they all think Brook City will make me forget about the riddle.”
Josh dragged his charcoal pencil along the top of the page. “There’s only a few days left to solve the riddle.”
Seamus rolled the basketball over the table top onto Josh’s sketchpad. “Pretend you’re sick,” he said. “It works when I don’t want to go somewhere.”
Barlo saddled alongside Josh, pushing him over the edge. “Not true,” he said, picking himself up from the ground. “What about your cousin’s school play last year?”
“That wasn’t my fault. She blabbed on me because I said the purple bow in her hair made her look like a bat.”
The organ music grinded out at a frenzied rate. Cailean plugged her ears with tissue. “It wouldn’t be so bad if the librarian could play.” She withdrew the riddle she’d rewritten from her pocket and gave it to Josh. “You’ll have to figure out who and where the Weeping Widows are.” Her voice faltered but no tears came. “I better get going.”
Josh folded the paper and put it in his pocket. “I can’t make any promises.”
Cailean and Barlo walked back up the hill slower than an earthworm. The sun reflected off the side-view mirror of her aunt’s car, and in the glare of the light, she saw a shadow slink from around the back of the car. It resembled the shape of an animal with a long thin furry tail. Water gurgled like it was being poured into a small opening. Cailean sprinted to the car. An empty bucket lay on its side, water seeping from it.
Luperca came out of the house with an overnight bag. “There you are,” she said. Red lip stick gave her a mask-like appearance. “Your father gave me permission to pack a few clothes for you so we could get on the road right away. We’ll have a marvellous...” Her words ended in a scream as she sprawled headlong onto the car’s bonnet.
