Chapter 31: Portents and Predictions
by Midnite
Voiceover by Alexandra Moltke: "The sun brightens tardily on this Autumn day,
yet the inhabitants of the Great House are unaware that as the days get
shorter, the time that the evil that lurks within its walls will be released
draws closer."
He turned away from the glossy Mustang that was parked askew in the space
marked "Roger Collins" and headed toward the main building of Collinsport
Enterprises. But the voices returned to gnaw at his skin and make his bones
tremble.
"You cannot escape," they hissed. "You belong to us now..."
He knew the hammers hoisted above his head would soon fall, so he fled the lot
in terror and headed onto the avenue.
~~~~~~~~~~
Vicki watched the flames lick and fawn the log she added to stave off the
morning chill. Following a sleepless night, she had risen earlier than most in
the household, and so she had toast and coffee alone in the kitchen before
retiring to the drawing room to attempt to rid her mind of a haunting
premonition that something unsettling would happen that day.
Suddenly the doors flew open to admit a beaming Quentin who strode in briskly
and immediately brightened the room. "There you are!" he said, his eyes
shining.
"You look ['amazing' was the word that came to mind] nice," she told him while
surveying his attire. He wore a red t-shirt under a shiny leather jacket, both
atop faded jeans. His brown boots were frozen in place and one of his thumbs
was inserted inside a silver belt buckle while his other hand rested behind his
back, and there was a wicked smile on his face. "You must have some very
special plans today," Vicki added nervously.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Does it have something to do with what you're holding behind your back?" She
was smiling now and enjoying the game.
"Well, I suppose it does," he told her as his arm whipped around to display a
black jacket similar to his own. "This is for you," he added, handing it to
her.
"Quentin, I don't understand."
"We're going for a ride. Now put it on."
"I- I'd love to, but I can't. David has a test this morning, and I need to go
over some things with Amy, plus I really don't..."
"I spoke to Elizabeth last night, and she was thrilled by my idea. She's going
to handle the children's lessons herself so that you, my dear, can have the
entire day off." He thought for a minute. "Do you own any pants?"
"Of course I own pants," she said a little defensively.
"Sorry, I've just never seen you in them. Why don't you go upstairs and put
them on. I'm anxious to show you the rest of the surprise."
"This is all a little overwhelming. Could you give me a hint about what this
is about?"
"Okay, I suppose now's as good a time as any. Come with me." He launched
himself across the foyer, with her stepping quickly behind. Cold air feathered
in from the outside as he threw open the large oak doors, and Vicki absently
donned the leather jacket before stepping out onto the front porch.
"You look great!" he exclaimed. "So what do you think?"
Vicki was aghast. On the driveway in front of her stood a huge, gleaming
motorcycle.
~~~~~~~~~~
The drawer designated K - L screeched open, and stout fingers traveled over
tabs labeled Kabbalah, kachina, kama sutra, karma, and finally paused at
Kerlian photography. The pale yellow folder was pulled from its snug resting
place just as the phone began to ring.
"Hello?"
"Hello!" came the frantic response. "I panicked when I wasn't able to reach
you at home."
"How delightful to hear from you," he said. "But I'm surprised you didn't try
here first."
Her voice softened considerably. "Oh, Eliot. Why would I expect you to be in
your office on Halloween?"
"Dear sister, although it's a big day for you, the college hardly considers it
an occasion to cancel classes."
"They work you too hard. How are you otherwise, dear?"
"A bit melancholy despite resolving to be optimistic."
"Something happened. I knew it!"
"Nothing has happened, Hannah. It's just the usual things. People botch up
their lives decidedly, and they come to me seeking resolution."
"Well then, my warning won't be too late."
"Ah, and King Oedipus pursued his inquiry though he divined that appalling
horrors awaited him in the answer..."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Resigned, he told her, "I know I'll regret this, but please just tell me what's
on your mind."
"It's about what the Tarot showed," she announced. "This morning, the Queen of
Cups turned up next to your card!"
"What's your point?" he asked impatiently.
"That's HER card. Don't you get it? She's coming back!"
"Hannah, Alexis is dead. Her body has been in the ground for over a year."
"But you know what can occur on this day. The veil between the worlds of the
living and dead..."
"Is the thinnest," he finished, as he often had since they were children. "But
Alexis is NOT coming back."
"Eliot, I cannot shake this bad feeling I have."
"You worry entirely too much."
"If I don't worry about you, who will?"
There it was-- they had reached the topic that all their sibling conversations
came around to. "On that note, I have to get back to work," he declared. "I
have a lecture this afternoon on auras that I must prepare for." There was
silence. "I assure you, I'll be fine."
"You'll call me if anything happens?"
"Nothing is going to happen. But yes, if it turns out that I'm wrong, you'll
be the first to know. Goodbye, Hannah."
He heard her stifle a sob. "Take care of yourself, Eliot."
After disengaging himself from the telephone, he rubbed fatigued eyes, then
stood to shut the cabinet drawer. The sound of chatter sailed in through the
doorway, punctuated by an occasional burst of laughter. How he envied the
vitality and exuberance of these young people, their innocence and openness.
While this silent admiration continued, a young woman passed directly in view;
her hair was the color of the sun and cascaded softly over slim shoulders, and
a red textbook was cradled in one arm. Her face was visible for only a second,
but there was no mistaking its annihilating beauty. He rushed madly into the
hallway, but the crowd of students had swallowed her up, or perhaps she had
disappeared around one of the far corners.
"No, it can't be," he told himself. "It can't!"
~~~~~~~~~~
Quentin eased the bike into first gear as he left the mountain road, then came
to a stop in a leafy clearing in the woods. He took off his helmet, and Vicki
followed suit. "This is a good place to start you off," he told her.
They exchanged places, with Vicki now seated in front. "It's in neutral right
now," he explained. "That's where you always start out." He surrounded her
with his arms and took her left hand gently in his. "This is the clutch," he
said as he moved her hand over it. "Squeeze it all the way like this? that's
perfect." He let go and let his hand slide down her left leg, reaching down
until he had placed her left foot on the gear shift. "Now, kick straight down,
and you'll be in first gear." He straightened himself, then grasped her right
hand and moved it into place. "Go ahead and give it a little throttle." She
did, and the engine raced beneath them. "Wait, that's too much. Back off on
it a little. Yes, like that; perfect! You're getting the hang of this
already."
Vicki didn't hear his last sentence at all. She was only aware of the body
pressing against her from behind, the face that was resting next to hers. She
suddenly felt flushed and realized that she had begun to tremble. He must have
noticed it too because he was staring at her now, and although she wanted to
look away-- to hide from him the emotions that surely were written all over her
face-- she couldn't shift her gaze to anywhere else but those magnificent blue
eyes. He slowly drew closer to her, and she did the same until their lips met,
and instinctively her arms encircled his neck as his reached around her back
and pulled her tighter to him, all the while with the engine purring beneath
them. He released her mouth and began kissing her face, then her neck.
"Vicki," he said between gasps, "I was dead before. And now I feel alive
because of you. I'm alive again after so many years."
"Oh Quentin. Ohhhh Quentin."
~~~~~~~~~~
"Carolyn dear!" the elderly woman shrieked from her perch near Brewster's grand
entrance. "How is your lovely mother? I must call her. She hasn't invited me
for tea at your magnificent home in ages."
Does this blabbermouth have gills?, Carolyn wondered while shooting her a black
look.
"What on earth could be keeping my taxi?" Mrs. Pettibone continued, her
wrinkles deepening with worry. "If only my grandson hadn't moved all the way
to Portland. You remember him, don't you, dear? He certainly remembers you.
I'm sure you've heard that he's a proctologist now. His grandfather, rest his
soul, and I always anticipated great things from him?"
"I have my car," Carolyn stated blankly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"My car is just around the corner. I could give you a ride."
"How lovely of you," the woman tittered while passing off two large shopping
bags. Carolyn's lips curled smugly as she began to lead the way.
"Christmas at Collinwood. It's still the social event of the year," she
prattled on while marching past an alley in the rear of the imposing department
store. "Where did you say your car was, dear?"
Carolyn tossed the bags aside and spun around, her hand producing a silvery
knife from a shoulder bag. "SHUT UP. Shut up or I will first cut out your
tongue."
A startled Mrs. Pettibone took a quick step backwards, one hand grasping the
left side of her chest as the other clutched at the air in search of something
to hold onto. Her face contorted pitifully, and a small gurgle escaped from
her throat as her eyes rolled upwards, and then she plopped backwards onto the
pavement and lay there without moving.
Carolyn stooped next to the supine woman and rested an ear on her bosom, but
she felt and heard nothing. "Merde." The knife glistened in the midday
sunshine, and she lifted it high over the area of the abdomen, the tip pointed
downwards.
A masculine voice interrupted from behind. "Kitten! What in God's name are
you doing?!"
~~~~~~~~~
Unknown to the two lovers, a mist had begun to gather around a nearby tree,
encircling its branches like a web. From it sprang a bluish-white haze that
shaped itself into a long figure that wavered for a moment in midair, then
slowly lowered itself to the ground. The gases swirled and began to take the
form of a woman, gauze-edged at first, but soon dense enough for her pretty
features to be discernible. She was statuesque, and had smooth skin and brown
eyes that blazed with passion, her face framed by long red hair that curled
softly as it met her shoulders.
The bewildered female was only aware that she was in a wooded area, was
terribly underdressed for the weather, and was clueless as to how she got
there.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
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