by C. L. Alden
“I don’t know,” she answered which was the truth. “Hopefully he’ll turn up soon.” She added, and noticed that Mr. Barrett was watching her.
CHAPTER Twenty-five
Stella walked over and stood in front of the center stone as Ruth and Temperance stood on the side adjacent to her. Stella called out, “Adams, Barrett, Bishop, Levasque, Lowe and Martin, come forward.”
Sheila stepped forward and took Stella’s hand. The two turned to face the stone. The Lowe’s moved up and stood next to Stella facing the center stone. Darcy took her dad and Will’s hands, and walked forward. Ali followed suit by taking Arthur Bishop’s hand and walking over beside Will. Mr. Barrett was the last to join the line. He walked over and took Mother O’s hand. Once the hands of all the founding families were joined in a long chain, the center stone and standing stones of the inner circle began to shimmer with white light. Darcy felt a power surge similar to what she felt in her dream, but much more intense. A wave passed through her when the chain was complete that was overwhelming. She tightened her grip on Will’s hand to steady herself. He looked over at her, and the moment their eyes met, time froze. Everything and everyone melted away except the two of them. Locked in each other’s gaze, a flood of emotions and memories flowed back and forth between them.
Darcy could see, as the expressions changed on his face, that he was experiencing all of the feelings and memories she ever had for him, because in that moment she felt a deluge of intense feelings and memories towards her that were unmistakably his. Flashes from their childhood raced through her mind; hanging out at a lunch table with their group of friends, sitting on the floor in the basement rec room playing a secret game of spin the bottle at her thirteenth birthday party, while the adults had their own party upstairs. She felt how nervous he was when the bottle landed on her. He didn’t really want to kiss her, he was hoping it would land on Michelle Acton, but he couldn’t wimp out and not kiss her, and when he did, the surprise and marvel he felt changed the way he looked at her forever. The summer going into 11th grade, spending every moment of free time with her and their friends at the lake, but mostly her. Darcy realized that his feelings mirrored hers at that time, the excitement and longing of falling in love for the first time. The ‘casual’ touches that didn’t mean anything, but maybe they did, and trying to decipher which it was. Silently hoping that it meant something. Summer nights around a bonfire on the beach when the late hour and dying fire created a magical moment when anything was possible. Secretly holding hands in the shadow of the firelight as friends laughed and joked around them, unaware. And, at the end of the night, leaving that private moment to be consumed by the smoldering embers, never to be spoken of in the light of day. Homecoming dance Junior year when he asked her to be his date. A high school gym converted to an enchanted ballroom by a mirrored disco ball, balloons and some crepe paper streamers. Sharing their first real kiss, concealed by the glittering darkness as they swayed to the music of the last slow song of the night. The first time they made love and a thousand other moments that whizzed through her brain confirmed to her that he did in fact love her. He always had.
The realization pushed her out of the moment enough to break the connection. Darcy looked down the chain. What felt like minutes to her must’ve been a blink of an eye to everyone else. No one seemed to have noticed. She felt Will squeeze her hand, but didn’t dare to look at him again. Intense emotions were replaced with the feeling of being connected to every person in the chain at almost a cellular level. She knew in that instant that the founding families shared a bond deeper than blood. In some cases it was blood, but it was also a bond created over time, and shared experiences, consecrated ages ago among these very stones. In that moment, she had a sense of the entire history of Shoreton and it’s people from the very beginning. Mixed in with this kinship was an organic, earthy bond to everything around her. She wondered if anyone else felt it?
The shimmering light intensified momentarily, and when it dissipated there stood a group of ‘others’ on the opposite side of the flat stone with their hands joined. Behind them were more ‘others’. Once they were visible, they released their hands, as did everyone but Will and Darcy on the living side. The shimmering of the stones continued. Some of the others not in the front line moved to the sides like Temperance and Ruth. One of them was the old guy from the cafe. She knew who he was now. He was her great-grandfather who had died when she was very young. She had a flash of memory of sitting beside him on a covered porch swing in his yard looking at his flower and vegetable garden. She scanned the group to see if her mother was among them, though she somehow knew in her heart she wouldn’t be. And, if she was honest with herself, she was kind of glad for that. To see her standing there as if she were still alive, would have made it so much harder to say goodbye again. She took comfort though, knowing that she knew now, without a doubt, that there was something beyond death.
The ‘others’ came from many different past generations. In some cases it was easy to see what family line they came from based on how closely they resembled their present day counterparts. No one on the present day side seemed fazed to see a group of people suddenly appear out of a white light. Was it the work of the stones or Stella’s potion, Darcy wondered?
Stella motioned for the non-founding family attendees to come up and stand behind them, as she said, “We meet here today to honor and strengthen our bonds to this town and to each other.”
A man from a much earlier time period, based on his clothing said, “We meet here today, across the generations, to charge the present with transgressions against our solemn bond.”
“We ask that you proceed with your evidence.” Stella replied.
“We have heard talk recently from many among the living, that our town must be reborn, and some, we have come to know, believe that this rebirth should be done on top of the ashes of what has been built. We will not allow that. We are bound to this land and to the town that we built. Destroying what vestiges remain of our history, will destroy us, and ultimately you.”
“What do you believe are these transgressions?” Stella asked.
“The intentional burning of the cannery factory.”
“There is no proof of that!” Mr. Barrett interrupted, breaking out of the line and stepping closer to the stone. The only ones that seemed fazed by this outburst were those not dosed with Stella’s potion.
“You are a Barrett?” the man eyed him as if sizing him up.
“I am Edwin Barrett.”
“It is your namesake then that is responsible.”
“I don’t believe that!”
Stella spoke up, “Can you provide proof that what you say is true?”
“For the fire, no, we cannot.” The man answered Stella. “However,” the man said looking at Barrett, Sr. again, “Your family owns a lot of property in our town, a good portion of which is embedded in our history.”
“We are proud of our legacy, and of our place in the history of Shoreton, as is my grandson Eddie.”
“Do you stand behind young Edwin’s decision then, to raze several of the town’s important landmarks?” the man asked.
“He would never do that!”
The spokesman gestured to a man standing in back. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. He was dressed in dark grey cuffed pants, a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, a plaid tie and suspenders. He stepped up onto the stone and a woman from a much earlier time period stepped up beside him. She placed her hand on the back of his head and said a few words that Darcy couldn’t quite hear. An image appeared like a translucent movie screen. The scene was from the man’s point of view. What was being projected was what he witnessed. Eddie was standing hunched over a table in a conference room with several other men. Among those men were Arthur Bishop, and councilman Chuck Thomas. Sounds of shock and surprise rippled through the ‘other’ side as well as through the living. On the table in front of them was a site plan of Trader’s Point.
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br /> “As you can see, the town has rezoned this entire area for commercial use.” Eddie said pointing to the area directly across from the ferry terminal.
“Aren’t there some historical landmarks in that area, like the Native trading camp and the site of one of the original Levasque Trading Posts?” One of the men Darcy didn’t recognize asked.
“Nothing that has been officially registered. Besides, there’s nothing there anymore, just a vacant field” Eddie replied.
“What about the old lime kilns and rail tracks across the way?” Arthur Bishop asked.
“Nobody cares about those anymore. Just like the cannery. They’re an eyesore. They won’t be missed.” Darcy heard several grumbles from her side as well as the other side. She glanced over towards Mr. Barrett to see his reaction, but all she could see was his unmoving stick-straight profile.
“What makes you think the town will approve of the development?”
“One step at a time, Chuck. We’ll start with the selling points of additional parking access for Main St. and cleaning up the waterfront. Barrett Holdings already owns the buildings on the north side of Fairmont which abuts that property,” he said pointing to the last block before the marina.
“Why hasn’t this area been developed before?” one of the men at the table asked.
“Money for one. There’s a considerable amount of cleanup that has to happen. The area has laid dormant for decades and it’s cost prohibitive for one business or even a couple. Look, developing this entire point is a win for everybody. The draw of name brand stores and restaurants will bring more people to the area. That means more business, and more money for everyone.”
“But isn’t this modern shopping hub going to stick out like a sore thumb?” another asked.
“No. It’s tucked behind everything. For now, our visitors will get a heaping dose of old New England charm, but also the comfort and convenience of an aesthetically pleasing modern shopping complex.”
“What do you mean ‘for now’?” the man asked.
“With the inevitable success of this development, I can imagine... let’s call them upgrades, throughout the town.” Eddie explained.
The ‘other’ spokesman nodded to the woman, and she removed her hand from the witness’s head. The projection disappeared. The two stepped down and back into crowd.
“As you can see, our fears are not unfounded.” the spokesman said. Mr. Barrett remained silent, staring at the space where the virtual screen was. Stella stepped forward and turned to the living.
“What do you think of what you just saw?” she asked.
“I for one would like to know who else on the town council besides Chuck Thomas, is in the Barrett’s back pocket?” Mike Hillstrom admonished, turning to Chuck first who had found an interest in his shoes, and then to Barrett, Sr. who remained silent. “You Barrett’s have steamrolled this town long enough!”
“We have done no such thing!” Barrett, Sr. declared.
“Gentlemen, let’s stay on topic, shall we?” The mayor looked eager to skirt the issue of potential scandal for the town council.
“Well the idea doesn’t sound half bad to me if it’ll bring more money to the town, though I’d want to see the studies behind it.” one of the meeting goers said.
“That’s prime real estate just lying there dormant.” Arthur Bishop added. “I think it should be developed.”
“What about the history? That whole area is the heart of what made Shoreton what it is today. It all started there!” Ali countered, looking at her uncle in disbelief. Many of the ‘others’ shook their head in agreement.
“We have to be practical. While I appreciate the history, as Arthur mentioned, that is prime real estate. It should be utilized.” Chuck Thomas countered finding his voice once he heard others in agreement with him.
Hank spoke up. “By turning it into some outlet mall? I don’t think so! It’ll kill this town quicker than that bypass!”
“I agree. We may see a rise in visitor numbers, but most of those dollars won’t make it to the businesses on Main St. or even other parts of town.” Ivy Demask interjected.
“The only ones making out on this deal is Fast Eddie and his cronies!” Mike added.
“I don’t believe that,” Arthur Bishop countered. “You and the rest of your legion of doomsayers, are so afraid of change. You’re gripping so tightly to the past that you can’t see we’re sinking under the weight of it. Quaint little New England towns, just like ours or better are a dime a dozen. Quaint isn’t cutting it anymore. We need new blood, new innovation!”
“Easy for you to say, Art. You have no skin in the game!” Mike charged.
“That’s not true. If Shoreton fails, ultimately my business will suffer as well.”
“Suffer, but not go under. What Eddie is proposing will kill a lot, if not all, of the small businesses.” Hank added.
“You don’t know that!” Arthur replied.
“Then tell me how new restaurants are gonna help the revenue of existing ones, or new clothing stores help the Lily Pond or Drapers?”
“New business and development equals growth for this town. Revitalization. We can make this town a new and shinier version of the jewel it once was.”
“At whose expense?” Mike stepped in again.
“Not at yours. Your business doesn’t rely on how the town succeeds.” Hank pointed out.
The mayor stepped in. “Okay, okay, let’s everyone take a breath. Let’s start with our common ground which is the continued success of our town. No decisions have been made.”
“Really? Has anyone told Fast Eddie that? Cause he seems to have his master plan of Barrett domination all worked out.” Mike exclaimed.
“We understand progress,” the ‘other’ spokesman said, “but we will not allow you to erase our existence as Mr. Barrett’s ultimate plan seems to indicate.”
“And we cannot allow the past to dictate our future!” Arthur countered.
The ‘other’ spokesman glared at him. “You living are so arrogant! You, who stand on the backs of those before you, those you have forgotten. We built what you have. We made you who you are.”
“As did those who came before you! We all owe somebody for where we are today, but we also owe it to those that come after us to leave something better than what we had. That’s what Eddie is trying to do.”
“We will not be reduced to rubble and swept away like discarded rubbish!” the spokesman thundered.
“And we will not be pulled under by deadweight!” Arthur exclaimed.
“Everyone, please! This arguing is getting us nowhere. We need to work on a solution. Where is Eddie? Why isn’t he here?” The mayor asked. No one on the living side seemed to know.
“We gave you fair warning.” The spokesman said in an ominous tone.
The only person to register his meaning was Barrett Sr. “What have you done with my grandson?”
“He bears the guilt for determining to destroy us.” the spokesman replied evenly.
Barrett, Sr. turned to the living, looking absolutely terrified. “They’ve taken my grandson!”
“What have you done with Eddie?” Arthur Bishop accused.
“He is safe for now.”
“I demand to know what you have done with him!” Barrett, Sr. exclaimed.
“You demand?” the spokesman scoffed. “Once again, the arrogance!” he said with a mocking chuckle. “I’ll admit that we bear some of the responsibility. We have been too lenient with you living throughout the generations. But no more!”
“Tell me where my grandson is!” Barrett roared. “If you harm him—” Barrett, Sr started.
“Careful, Mr. Barrett, you are in no position to threaten.”
The situation was escalating quickly as sharper lines were drawn between the living and dead. No one seemed willing to back down.
“Excuse me,” Darcy said out in front. “May I say something?” she asked looking to both sides for approval. “My name is Darcy Ada
ms. I don’t live in this town anymore, but I still consider it home.” All eyes turned to Darcy as she addressed the spokesman and ‘others’. “We’ve come here today to find a compromise, though most of us on this side don’t realize that.”
“A compromise?” Arthur Bishop scoffed. “This is our town! They have no say!”
Grumbling began again on both sides.
“This town is as much ours as it is yours!” the spokesman thundered.
“Please!” Darcy beseeched looking at Bishop.
Will turned to Bishop and the rest of the living. “Let her speak.”
“The town belongs to us all!” Darcy said, addressing the living. She turned to face the ‘others. “And I realize now sir, I think we all do, that you’ve been trying to remind us of that recently, but we didn’t understand that.”
“That’s partly my fault.” Ruth chimed in, addressing both sides. “My family has worked for generations to ensure that the past is not forgotten, to help keep the interests of the past and present moving in the same direction. I’m afraid we’ve grown complacent in recent years—”
“And I apologize for that.” Ali interrupted. “I didn’t fully realize the importance of my family’s legacy, but I do now.” Ali looked at the ‘others’, “I will do better.”
Arthur Bishop turned to the living. “This is nice and all that we pay homage to those before us, but we have real life issues that we need to pay attention to for the future of our town that have nothing to do them. They’re gone! This is our time!”
“We are not gone!” someone from the dead shouted back.
A loud grumbling began, growing more insistent by the second. Exclamations disputing Arthur Bishop’s arguments were heard from the crowd of ‘others’. Tempers on both sides were rising.
Bishop continued his argument “If we want to save ourselves. We can’t worry about the past!” His statement was met with a few of the living agreeing.
