by A M Nixon
The bed in her new room was old, with a few noisy springs, but she slept well enough. The cottage was quiet for the rest of the night, so Mary assumed the spirit was friendly, whoever it was. She was getting used to having a real home again. Back at the motel, the idea of it seemed hopeless. She worked too hard to get the home she wanted, years and years of slaving, just to have it all taken away. She was going to do whatever she had to do to make sure it never happens again.
Mary went into town for groceries and to familiarize herself with her new town. Old Gap was established in 1710 with a current population of only 1856 people according to the search app on her phone. Her mother was right, it took about 40 minutes from the cottage to get to Krullers grocery store. It was not a regular grocery store but had enough of what she needed without having to drive another thirty minutes to the Food lion. The people she met were pleasant enough, everyone smiled at her as she walked the Isles. She bought what she needed and headed home.
Back at the cottage, Mary decided it was finally time to put her plan into action. She couldn’t simply pick up the phone and ask Dickie for her pets back. First, a woman might answer, and she was not prepared to deal with that. The woman would be answering the call on a phone she’d picked out from a phone number Mary personally chose. Second, he had blocked her from being able to call his cell phone. That was one thing she couldn’t understand. He was the one who cheated, then fell out of love with her, so he blocks her? It should have been the other way around but he would never call her so it would have been a waste of time. No, she would need to go the legal route. Mary found an old local telephone book and looked up lawyers for Old Gap, there was only one. An M. Petty. She called the number and spoke to a Margie Petty, who said she could see her around 4PM. Mary agreed. Margie told her she was a retired lawyer, helping her fellow Old Gap residents when she could. For Mary’s purposes, she would have to do.
After unloading the groceries, Mary was dusting the furniture when she picked up the family book from the coffee table. She listened for a noise or a flickering light that would indicate spirit activity, in case it was the book that brought on the previous night’s adventure. The cottage was silent. She used an old divination way of getting information by asking a question and randomly opening it to where she felt an inkling she should. Asking what she needed to know, she closed her eyes and opened the book to read what was written there. The page, in handwriting, started with the words:
“resides at the castle, which is covered in vines, named Zropu. The priestess Isadore wanted to keep her immortality while she incarnated each life. The Divine One’s allowed her to live in both worlds. To remain free of the Dark Spirit, she was given the ability to change into an animal at will.”
Mary placed the ornate silk bookmark at the page to finish reading later. She’d have to read from the beginning to find out why the Priestess would need to change into an animal. She had just enough time to make it to her appointment with Margie Petty.
Mary sat in Margie’s office, hoping she could get Flea, Chance and kit back from Dickie. She was willing to spend her last bit of savings to hire her.
“Well, from what you’ve told me, your chances are slim on the house, since you and Dickie weren’t married.” Margie said. “Maryland has no common law. So your nearly 20 years accounted for nothing as far as the state’s concerned.”
Mary stood up from her chair and paced the room. It was bad enough her name wasn’t on the deed or the loan for the house. “The agent we went through for the construction told me that because I was bogged down with student loans, my credit would have hurt his, so he recommended I stay off the loan. Dickie told me he would add my name to the deed later, but he never did.”
She had no idea what the ramifications of his decision would be at the time. She was sure they would be together forever.
“I can’t get half the house and now it looks like I can’t get my babies back either.” She said, as she wiped her tears with a sleeve. Margie, who had been intently staring into her laptop during Mary’s tantrum paused.
“There might be a way. Give me a few days and I’ll get back to you.” She said. “Don’t give up so fast, where there’s a will there is always a way around your obstacle, and I’m the one to find it.”
Mary went back to the cottage, trying to stay positive and in ‘law of attraction’ mode. She figured taking a walk would calm her nerves. She loved being outside when the moon was full, everything glowed with a soft white hue. It was magical to her, and she needed that magic right now. She hadn’t used her divination cards or her pendulum since the breakup. She assumed since no one, ‘over there’ gave her a heads up to what was going to happen, she didn’t need them in her life… but she did. She always had something but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. She had premonitions for as long as she could remember and being able to move the pendulum with her mind validated that she wasn’t alone. She presumed using a pendulum was considered a parlor trick to most, so she never let her friends and family in on her use of it. But the cards the pendulum chose were always accurate at predicting her future. Why had she abandoned her tools and guides when she needed them the most?
Mary reached up to the night sky for a prayer, as if giving the universe and her guardian angel a hug, when a shadow flew over her head. It appeared to be a bat. It flew around her one more time and before she could get inside the cottage, it landed on her arm. Her first reaction was to shoo it away but if it had rabies it might bite her. Mary stood still, calmly considering her options. This wasn’t her first wild animal encounter. Somehow the animals would find her, no matter where she lived. As she looked at the magnificent creature, larger than any bat she’d come across before, it had a coating on its back. The dust resembled what one might see when crystals glisten in the sun. She looked at his wing and noticed a small cut in the webbing between the tendrils of bones that ran through it. Within a few minutes, Mary knew the bat had no intention of biting her, and it seemed at home on her arm. “I want you to be still while I take care of this tear you have, Izzy.” She named the bat Izzy, short for Isadore, in case he was a she. She had a habit of naming the wild animals she encountered, usually with the first name that came to mind.
Izzy stayed on her arm while she walked to the kitchen to get the ointment, he allowed her to put a bit on his wing. After Mary finished nursing Izzy, he gently flew from her arm. She watched as he headed toward the full moon, its white glow highlighting his wings as he flew.
Mary remembered she was in the middle of praying to her guardian angel before Izzy arrived. Asking her angel for forgiveness for abandoning her guidance, she finished the prayer and went back inside the cottage.
Later that night, in a fit-full sleep, the premonition came. Mary could see herself, only this time, she was standing behind the cottage when a bright flash of white light appeared followed by a series of loud booms. As she gazed at the sky, there were hundreds of white saucer shaped lights. They multiplied out of each other, as if one white light could produce ten look a-likes. Her dream changed scenes and she was shown a location within a forest. It had a house with a few buildings like the ones used on military facilities. Yet, there were no military personnel around—or at least none she could see. The next thing she knew it was morning.
Mary tried to familiarize herself with the kitchen. It had been updated nicely and had everything uncle Walter’s money could buy. She didn’t have a kitchen at the motel, so it was a treat to be able to cook again. It was her first time in a kitchen since she left her old home. She liked the benefits of not having to cook for anyone or have dinner ready by a certain time. She was single again, for the first time in as long as she could remember. She didn’t mind that she was past her prime, no longer worrying over what men thought of her. She liked the freedom not caring allowed her.
Waiting the entire day for the satellite to be installed, with remote in hand, she kicked back on the over-stuffed couch. Mary settled on her favorite channel with a cup
of coffee and the family book. It was almost more boring than she had originally anticipated. Choosing to read from the beginning, since she had been interrupted the last time. She resisted the urge to skip to the divination part from earlier. There was a long lineage of names she didn’t recognize, having originated from Scotland and spanned as far back as the 11th century. How they got to the U.S. With each name; Covington, Glen Gavel, and MacPhearghuis, which eventually became Fergusson and later, closer to the 19th century, losing the extra S. Also listed were their marriages and their children, down through the generations—down to her mother’s maiden name, Ferguson. Mary’s father was of Mexican descent, which was where her last name Contreras came from. She had always known her mother’s family name but hadn’t considered it to be Scottish.
Her ancestors were called to the Monongahela mountains. They settled and built a cabin on the exact spot the cottage sat. She hadn’t explored every nook and cranny of the structure yet, checking behind and under things, to find remnants of the past. Reminded of her grandad’s barn, she assumed some of those old tools were used to build the former cabin, or the cottage. Her times in the barn did spark a curiosity and a passion for antiques and tools. Mary couldn’t get enough of the home improvement shows and became somewhat of an armchair builder. She learned a few things about foundations and structures, especially builds in remote locations. Back in the day, builders would use parts of the original building to add the new one on to. She placed the bookmark on the page and put the book in the cabinet with ornate wood carving on it. It deserved to be in a special place. Eager to investigate the cottage, she hoped to find a piece of the past.
Chapter Two
The Closet
To Mary, the most logical place to search was the closet under the stairs. It looked as though it could have been original to the cabin, with a wood door that had plane marks made with crude, centuries old tools. She knew the old world craftsman would keep the original footers since they were built to withstand the weight of the log cabin. She opened the closet and looked inside. It seemed to be part of the cottage build and she was about to give up when she noticed a large crest on the closet floor in front of a wood paneled wall. It looked like the one on the cover of the lineage book; faded gold paint with a gilded outline.
She used her trusty wind-up flash light radio and shone the light on the object. It was definitely the family crest. She moved several boxes out of the way and found a loose piece of a wood panel. As she slid it aside, it revealed another set of stairs. It was a dark stairwell and the musty odor was filling the closet, and there was a slight breeze coming up the stair. She hesitated, questioning whether she should explore it by herself. If something happened, no one would hear her. Talking herself down from the fear, she decided she was going to see what was beyond the stairs. Grabbing a pair of gloves out of one of the boxes, she pulled more wood wall out of the way so she could fit through the opening.
The wall behind the opening resembled stone block. She touched it with her gloved hand and found that it was. She didn’t have much light, but she could feel the outline of each stone layer as she made her way down the stairs. As she stepped off the stairwell and pointed the flashlight towards the ceiling, it’s light could barely reach the walls of what was a cavern under the cottage. There was a light from an opening near the ceiling 50-feet away. The top of the cavern was covered in limestone but for a hole where the kitchen floorboards were exposed. The cottage was held up by large stone bricks and the cavern’s limestone walls underneath it. Nothing while she was in the kitchen made her feel as though she had been standing above a vast opening. The cavern was overwhelming, especially since Mary had never been in one before. She considered calling her uncle or maybe her mother so she wouldn’t be alone while exploring the dark unknown. Her curiosity overruled her fear, and she kept going, heading over to the light. The floor was uneven but had a path leading to the other side. The opening led out to the side of the mountain and several bats were roosting nearby. It was the moonlight coming through.
As she headed back to the stairwell, her flashlight reflected on to something tucked away in a little alcove in the limestone. As she investigated further, the object was an old chest with rusted and pitted hinges. She tried to open it, but the rust was too strong. As Mary held the chest, her excitement rose for what it may hold inside. It was small enough for her to carry up the stairs and into the bright light of the kitchen. The chest, she knew, was several hundred years old. Though she was no expert, she’d had her share of treasure hunts when she went antique shopping, so she knew the chest was as old as it looked. One of her early ancestors must have brought the chest all the way from Scotland when the family settled on the mountain.
Maybe her ancestors planned on building the cabin over the cavern on purpose—perhaps to hide more treasures? She went to the shed and got a screwdriver and a hammer. She tried to be as careful as she could as she slid first the screwdriver under the rusted hinge to see if she could get it to move. When it didn’t, she used it as a chisel to remove the rust off the hinge. Finally, it came off in a few big clumps and the metal was exposed again.
There was a pin wedged through the hole on the clasp. Once she hammered the pin out, she opened the box, fighting the hinges the whole time. She was careful not to break anything, since she assumed it must be worth a good deal, rust and all. The chest was lined with a soft, embroidered fabric. The only item inside was a piece of old cloth, wrapped around a leather handmade box. Inside the box was what looked like a pendulum. It was made out of a large crystal wrapped with leather string and attached to a gold chain. To Mary it resembled her pendulum, only much larger. She held it up to see how freely it moved. She was going to ask it questions with her mind but was worried what might happen. It was in an old chest in an intimidating cavern; what could go wrong? She joked to herself. She didn’t want to conger up an old spirit or something worse.
Why did her ancestors put the chest in the cavern? Someone built the stairs, maybe they were the only ones who knew that it existed. She would have to call her uncle and see what he knows. If he seemed oblivious, she would tell him what she found. She hoped he would be as excited as she was.
Mary called Uncle Walter, who had no idea the stairwell or the cavern existed. The property was passed down through the family, and since he was only part owner, had never investigated the cottage. Uncle Walter was so excited about the chest and the pendulum he insisted on making the drive from Baltimore right away. When he arrived, she took him to the stairwell first. He had no interest in seeing the cavern and took her word for it, instead he studied the chest. He brought a few books with him which had pictures of antique coffers— “What they called chests in medieval times.” Uncle Walter said. It was a passion of his and he was a devoted collector.
When Mary showed him the pendulum, he stood frozen for a moment and asked where the book he gave her was. She pointed the cabinet. His hands were shaking as he opened the book to the same section she had read for the divination answer.
“If this is real, then the stories in this book must be too. I never thought…” He said as he showed her, on the page after the one she had read, what was an old hand drawing of the pendulum. It apparently belonged to the Priestess Isadore in the legend. The crystal was nothing of value to anyone on Earth. The legend said it was a crystal from a star that housed the angels.
She put the pendulum back in its box and put it in her purse, intent to get more info on it when she had the chance. She went to read more of the book, but it wasn’t in the cabinet. Her uncle must have taken it with him along with the others he brought.
Margie Petty called while uncle Walter was there, and Mary let it go to voice mail. She didn’t want bad news while they were investigating what she found. She called Margie’s office, and she answered right away.
“I have good news.” Margie said.
“Ok,” Mary said. Trying not to get her hopes up too soon.
“Well, I couldn’t fi
nd a civil law that would help you, but after you told me how Dickie treated you, I figured he wasn’t some rocket scientist so I called him and quoted an obscure law and told him if he wanted to fight you in court to get your babies back, it would cost him. I mentioned he needed to think about his new family… it was in his best interest not to fight it.”
“And.” Mary said, rolling her eyes. She didn’t like Margie’s choice of words: “new family.”
“Well, he said his job is opening an office in Canada and he will need to be there for a year. He didn’t want to put them through quarantine. He said you can pick them up before they leave in two weeks.”
Mary could hear the thrill in Margie’s voice. She had done well. Mary thanked her and asked her how much she owed. Margie hinted she could get in trouble for lying to him and would call it a favor. “let me know what date within the two weeks you can pick them up, and I will relay the information to Dickie, that way you don’t have to deal with him directly.” Mary laughed over her use of the word Dickie. She thanked Margie for handling the call, grateful not to have to hear his voice.
Mary did her dance around the cottage, feeling as if she had finally won something, after all the disappointments. Life was finally coming together. The cottage was bare, and Mary knew she’d have to get the place dog-and cat-ready. She made a shopping list for beds, food, treats and bowls. She then walked into the library, which had a small fireplace. She measured to see if three pet beds would fit in front. The library would be their snuggle-time cozy room. It had a large antique couch with more than enough room for the four of them. Mary glanced at the mantle and found the old family book. Her uncle must have placed it there before he left. She put it in the ornate cabinet, where she had a sense it wanted to be, promising to get back to it later. She didn’t have time to read, she had to get to Walmart which was an hour and a half away.
