Blossom Blood

by Carlyle Labuschagne

  “Gus,” he called, using the shortened version of his uncle’s name, which he far preferred to his ‘proper’ name.

  When no reply came, he knocked again. Then remembered Caleb saying Octavius had a secret lair. Asher couldn’t blame the guy for wanting somewhere away from all this crazy. He walked through the house, trying hard to ignore the mess. Clothes hung from hangers mounted near the front door, books piled up on cocktail tables, sideboards, even all over the dining room table. Every other available corner of the house held sports gear of some kind. He also noticed a lot of the antique furniture, which used to be kept in the attic, had now taken residence throughout the various rooms of the house. He came to the troubling thought that after they had decided to close down his late parents’ antique shop, this random collection of furniture now served as heirlooms from the Blossom Estate.

  “I’m guessing the attic is the lair?” Asher said to Caleb as he popped his head back into the living room.

  Caleb didn’t look up from his book when he replied, “So I have been told. It’s strictly a no kids zone.”

  The stairs to the attic were halfway drawn, and Caleb had to give a slight jump to grab the rope and pull them down. He climbed the stairs quietly and popped his head in. The attic was flooded with lights, which highlighted rows of glass cabinets. He stepped up into the attic, his eyes wondering over the content of the strangely modern looking space. White PVC sheets had been suspended with silver wire to create a sleek, almost laboratory effect in the old attic. Slowly, he walked across the attic floor, which had been painted in high gloss, adding to the strange transformation.

  “Gus,” he called, taking a closer look at one of the items on a glass shelf enclosed in a glass case. It appeared to be a mummified hand of some sort. The skin was pulled tight and was leathery. The disgusting thing was greenish-brown, the nails were long and had a blackish-blue hue to it. The thing looked like the hand of a witch from a child’s fairytale.

  “I never heard you come in.”

  Asher jumped at the sound of Octavius’ voice behind him.

  “What the hell is all this, Gus?” Asher asked, taking in the tables stacked with candelabra’s along one side of the room, at the other end a row of old books stacked three gigantic bookshelves to the ceiling. Before him in the centre of the room, a rectangular shaped glass table resting on thin wooden legs with a fine carving of vines running down their lengths to merge with lion shaped paws. Inside the glass table, a chest kept on dark blue satin lining. He shouldn’t have asked, being an anthropology student, he knew the set up too well. It looked like a laboratory, or more like a restoration facility, with chemicals, brushes and magnifying laps littering a workstation near the window. But the relics held up in these glass shelves and chests, were of a very peculiar subject matter.

  “I was going to tell you,” Gus said, I didn’t have time to

  Asher straightened his shoulder standing upright. “Tell me what exactly?”

  “In your absence, I’ve taken over the business.”

  Asher stood narrowing his eyes on to his uncle. “I thought we agreed not to.”

  “We did,” Gus said, “But our situation changed.”

  Asher could feel his face turn red with anger. He couldn’t believe that his uncle had not seen fit to speak with him about this. How dare he make such a big decision and not consult him – and in their family home. “I’m not sure I understand,” he said, trying to contain his feelings.

  “Is this what you have been using the money for? To keep my father’s business running? When we decided this is exactly what we were not going to do!”

  “We didn’t want to worry you,” came a small voice.

  Asher spun to see his little brother, Caleb, standing half in and half out the attic. His eyes huge behind the glasses. He put Asher in mind of a Meerkat and Asher found his anger dissipating a little.

  “Caleb, would you please go down stairs. I need to speak to our Uncle – privately.”

  He took in the look on his little brother’s face and guilt flooded him. “I’ll be down in a minute, and then we’ll hang out, okay?” He gave a warm smile.

  Caleb could be awfully cute, Asher surmised. He reminded him a lot of himself when he was his age. Always wanting to be in on the action. Always wanting to know what was going on – which is why, coming home to find so many secrets had rattled him.

  “Okay.” His brother’s voice came a little shaky.

  Asher and Octavius watched his head disappear as he climbed back down the stairs. Asher’s returned his attention back to his uncle. A dark and dangerous look was in his eyes. One only Blossom blood shared. It was the kind of look that interrogated without a word.

  “Please, sit,” Octavius said pulling out a chair.

  Asher’s arms stretched over his chest, his muscles bulking, veins popping in his neck. “I don’t want to sit.”

  “You have your father’s temper,” Octavius said, taking in his enraged nephew.

  Asher shook his head. “Don’t,” he pleaded. He hated being compared to his father. “Don’t talk about my father when I am this mad at you.” His lips pressed together as he looked Octavius dead in the eye. “You have been keeping secrets from me, uncle.” He closed his eyes, not able to look at his uncle and stay mad at him at the same time. He had always had a soft spot for him. Octavius had always been a good man. Just look at the way he had stepped in and taken over the guardianship of the three children his sister left behind. Fathering was hardly the most obvious path for a man like Octavius, and yet, here he was. Asher decided in that moment to lighten up about the state of the house. It was pretty evident that the kids were quite a handful.

  “The house is falling to pieces,” he sighed, trying not to sound judgemental but at the same time, make a point that things needed to change. He opened his eyes again, stared at his uncle, who had the same dark eyes so much like his mother’s. “And you have a hush-hush baby sitter, who by the way, looks to be a bad influence on Brooke.” Asher reached in his pocket and showed him the blunt. “I found this earlier, then caught her looking for it before she went off to work.”

  He thought he saw his uncle roll his eyes at the sight of the blunt but continued anyway. “And this? The lair, as Caleb put it?” Asher’s eyes darted across the room at the transformed space.

  “Listen,” Octavius said calmly. “I have good reason to do, or not to do, things around here. Raising kids and maintaining a house that belongs to someone else is a challenge I have to rise to. I’m not going to be responsible for being the downfall of my family.” He sat down on the high stool in front of Asher. “I can’t stand seeing such good kids lose out on life. And before you worry, I have not spent a cent of your trust funds.”

  He sighed before continuing. “We all made a promise, way before the accident that as a family, we were going to make sure you see your studies through at Cambridge. Your parents wanted that for you, and it’s beneficial to your sister’s and brother, too” He smiled then continued. “Being accepted into Camebridge, gives them a steppingstone, or rather an example of what they can achieve if they really want to. It’s the start of a new legacy for you Blossom kids.

  Asher glared at his Uncle. He almost believed what he was saying.

  “Amanda –” Octavius began to say.

  Asher’s leg gave in and he sunk into the chair at the mention of her name. His fingers automatically reached for the necklace around his neck. It held Amanda’s silver ring and it fell in right in the middle of his chest, where it kept its permanent place near to his heart. Asher opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

  “Just tell me what you are up to?” he said after a minute or two. “I’ve grown a lot in these past three years. I had to come back as a man; someone who could be my family’s protector. I’ve learnt a lot of things about people – how they work, how they think.” His chin dipped in determination. “Yes, my studies in anthropology taught me a thing or two about people’s inherent behaviours.�
�� Asher flashed a smile. “Enough to know you are hiding many things from me.” His grey eyes turned a darker shade when they fell on the letter his uncle was still clutching in his uncle’s hand.

  “These things you are collecting – its way off the path of rare antiquities. They’re more relics of the occult.”

  Octavius spoke quickly. “I had too many of our old clients call me and offer me money. I –”

  “Stop.” Asher put his hand up, he could see the lie before it even began.

  Asher leaned forward in his chair and snatched the letter before Octavious had the chance to react.

  “No.”

  Octavious tried to snatch it back, but standing, Asher towered over his uncle. He unfolded the letter and his eyes took in the letterhead first. Gugons Institute of the Arcane

  Dear Octavius Redfeather.

  We urge you to turn in the artefacts as a matter of urgency. Should these relics fall into the wrong hands, we fear the situation might quickly become out of our control.

  Our agents are in the area and are ready for your cooperation. As previously discussed, it will be in the best interest of your family’s safety to have them removed from your home.

  As long as you cooperate, we will see no harm will comes to them. We have funded your expeditions in good faith; we only hope you understand the seriousness of this situation. We trust you understand.

  P.S No one outside of our institute is to be trusted.

  Yours sincerely,

  Neforta

  “Gus.” His eyes met his uncle’s, “This is a threat?” He looked back down to the letter. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

  “It’s none of your concern. I am handling it to the best of my ability.”

  “Clearly,” Asher said. “You’re in danger – and so are my siblings according to this letter.” He swallowed. “I think we need a family meeting. I’ll set up a reservation at Brooke’s restaurant for tonight. That way, I can keep an eye on her, too. Too much is happening – or not happening – for my liking. ”

  “There is no need for that,” Octavius said, feeling insulted.

  “Uncle Octavius, I am eternally grateful for what you have done for my brother and sisters, but these secrets, they have a cost. All secrets cost. Look at what happened to my parents.” Asher’s face took on a paler hue. His grey-blue eyes becoming dark and brooding. All kinds of turmoil roiled inside. Once again, he took the blame for this situation. Perhaps if he’d been more of a man back then? Maybe tried a little to save his parents…?

  Three

  Cleo was attached to her big brother’s arm as they walked down the stairs toward the front entrance.

  “You clean up nice,” she said proudly, looking up at him in adoration.

  “So do you,” he said flashing her a smile. “Quite the young lady.”

  Cleo had changed from her skirt and ankle boots into a summer dress and silver sandals. Asher thought she must be the best dressed baseball player in town. He smiled down at his baby sister, then bent on one knee to give her the locket shaped like a key, which he had discovered in her dresser earlier.

  “Oh no.” She pulled away. “The mechanism is broken. I’m scared it will come off and I’ll lose it.”

  Asher rubbed her arm. “Best we get that fixed then.”

  Cleo gave an unsure smile. She was certain that with her sporty lifestyle, it was safer at home. Asher was about to put it into his breast pocket of his coat when she stopped him.

  “It’s safer with me,” she said, holding out her hand and shrugging her shoulders. “Nothing personal,’ she added with the arch of his eyebrow at her.

  “Caleb!” Cleo called. “You’re going to make us late.” She wined, looking at her watch.

  She’d had the same watch for the past three years. Cleo had not gone a day without wearing it, the purple and green strap fading in color already. Her Disney watch of Buzz lightyear reminded her of the last family trip they had together, although she was so young at the time, memories of her mother and father seemed seared into her mind. So vivid at times it was as if she’d seen them only yesterday. Cleo took the locket from Asher and dumped it in her little handbag. She was very sentimental when it came to the things her parents had given her before their passing. Even kept the dresses and shoes they had bought her stashed in an old trunk, and hidden under the seat of the bay-window

  Asher rolled his eyes at her, he didn’t know much about other kids, but he was sure that his siblings were the strangest seven year olds he’d ever come across. The more time he spent with them, the more he was realizing that fact. He guessed having lost their parent so young was responsible for them growing up so fast.

  Octavius came out the living room with Caleb right behind him.

  “Had a bit of trouble with my bowtie,” Gus admitted, not meeting his eldest nephew’s eyes. Asher was clearly still mad at him.

  Gus’ stomach churned. It wasn’t the right time to tell him the truth about the family business. He really didn’t want the Blossom youth involved. As long as he kept doing what he was doing, they would never need to know. He would move all the stuff out soon and hopefully move away from The Life. Just two more years of Asher’s schooling and he too would be gone. It saddened him to leave the last of his family, but it was his sister Elle’s request, and a promise he would keep to honour her.

  His nieces and nephews would live a normal life, the kind his sister, Elle, had wanted for her children. Octavius felt a nervous sweat build up on his forehead, his hand subconsciously went to his jacket pocket where the letter from the institute felt like it was burning a hole in his shirt. Undecided about what he was going to do about the warning, he ignored it a little longer. The car was due to arrive in under five minutes. The wait was awkward between Uncle and Nephew as the unspoken hung between them like a magnetic charge creating opposite poles. The longer the wait, the stronger the poles pushed against each other. Asher couldn’t take the pressure anymore and decided to take the twins outside to wait for the car on the sidewalk.

  After seeing that letter, he decided he would defer the last year of his studies until Brooke was eighteen and could act as guardian. He’d have a chance to fix up the house, and keep them safe from the secret threats he still had to discuss with his uncle.

  He looked to his younger siblings as they walked the path. “What do you guys say about heading to Garden Shack for some tool shopping tomorrow? Get this yard cleared.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes. “No thanks,” he said, tucking a dark curl behind his ear.

  “I think that’s the best idea anyone has had in this family for a long time.” Cleo jumped up and down with excitement, her dark, curly ponytail whipping around on the side of her head.

  “We can clear it aaall away,” her hand made a wide arc before them. “The side yard is big enough for a diamond, we can put the homeplate…”

  Caleb cleared his throat, interrupting his sister. “We are not turning our front yard into a baseball field, Queen Bee.”

  “No one asked you, Caleb. It’s not like you would be outside anyway, nerd.”

  Cleo pushed Caleb, and Caleb pushed her back. Asher pulled them apart.

  “Here comes the car,” he said in a singsong voice.

  The twins practically pushed each other out of the way before piling into the SUV. Asher stepped back to let Octavius in first before climbing in the back with his siblings. Before the car pulled off, he checked the door wasn’t child-locked and was relieved to feel it open. He had issues with being shut in, ever since after the accident had claimed the lives of his girlfriend and parents. His eyes were always looking for a way out, his mind always working the details of any situation, so that if the need arise, he could find a way to get them out first. “Fancy,” Caleb said, impressed. He had a huge grin on his face as he took in the sleek black interior, the water bottles in the middle console, and the cup holder filled with candy.

  “I feel like a celebrity,” Cleo said, beaming.


  “In your dreams, tomboy!” Caleb pulled out his tongue.

  “That’s Queen Bee to you, remember.” She bowed one brow and gave a smirk.

  “Water?” Asher offered the twins.

  “Sweets!” the twins shouted in response, eyes twinkling.

  “Oh wait, stop,” Asher called to the driver. “I need to get my wallet. Wait here I’ll be right back.” He jumped from the vehicle as it pulled over and stopped about four houses down from their place.

  “Oh great,” Cleo wailed. “Are all Blossom men so un-punctual?”

  Caleb pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That is not an accrual word.”

  “Stop it, you two,” Octavius warned, already foreseeing the argument about to break out between the twins. Through the open window of the SUV, Asher could hear the twin’s bickering even though he was three houses down. As he walked, the sun was setting behind the line of Oak trees, casting tall, flickering shadows on the sidewalk. His neighbourhood smelt of roses. He looked down at his polished, black dress-shoes, almost feeling bad for the way he had treated his uncle. He had only been with the twins half a day and he already felt like running for the hills, screaming. Octavius had dealt with that twenty for seven, and he owed him for that. As Asher looked up at their house, he saw a flash of blue light emanating from the upstairs window. Coming from the twin’s room. His heart thumped in his chest at the thought that Cleo might have left one of her hair tools on. Something similar had happened to a friend of his dorm buddy when his girlfriend had left her hair-tool burning on his nightstand.

  Fire!

  He sprinted the rest of the short distance to the double story house and then came to a complete stop with the soft crush of leaves beneath his feet. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. But as he stood and watched the house, the same blue light flickered like a cobalt fire in the living room. It then flashed in the study, moments later.