by Karen Glista
“It doesn’t say, but it’s a similar story to the one Gage told me, but he didn’t call them Miigis.”
“Are you sure that the evil one left?” Donja asked. “Does it say that?”
“Well, it suggests that, but no, it’s not certain.”
“So, that can only mean one thing. It’s still here.”
“No way!” Makayla hissed.
“I hope you’re right, but think about it. This Scarface is evil, just look what he did to Becky. What if—”
“He’s the Seventh Spirit,” Mikayla interrupted. “You’re scaring me.”
“Just saying.”
“Holy shit,” Makayla mumbled. “He is powerful. Gage said he tossed him and Torin like they were nothing.”
Donja turned her head and they shared a chilling look.
“Let’s hope you’re wrong,” Makayla whispered, “else we’re all dead.”
Don’t Make Me
Lisa lifted the lid off the Dutch oven. She twisted her head to one side and with her hand fanned the vapors. She leaned closer, inspecting the spiked thermometer rising atop a juicy prime rib.
Disappointed, though the smell was enticing, she replaced the lid and returned it the oven. She removed the oven mitts, a wedding gift from Carson’s secretary at the accounting firm. She tossed them to the wooden counter, contemplating.
Formica would be cheaper than granite, my goodness, we’re already well past sixty thousand on the renovations and Frankie needs braces.
At the sink, she began to husk corn just as a tap, tap, tap, from the lion’s head knocker sounded on the front door.
Who in the world would that be?
She turned her head toward the door. “Carson?” She knew he was in the study where he was writing yet another check to cover the completion of the drywall. “Someone’s at the door!” She listened, head cocked and then she heard the floor boards creaking in the hallway followed by Carson’s voice. “You guys did a great job.”
“Thanks”, a male voice replied which she recognized as Jake, the owner of Meachum Construction. She turned on the water, washing the corn, but she didn’t fail to notice Carson as he and Jake passed by the door headed for the foyer.
She finished the corn, then grabbed a wooden spoon, stirring a thick vanilla concoction which bubbled like lava. She turned off the flame and it occurred to her that Frankie and Maestro had been gone for quite a while, exploring the estate. She smiled, he was so happy here, acres of freedom with abundant wildlife, a boy and his dog gone wild.
“Whew!” she wiped her brow with the back of her hand, heat from the oven radiating. With one of the gold hot pads, she transferred the pot of bubbling pudding to the island, the sound of footsteps in the foyer.
“Honey,” Carson said, walking toward her with a stern look. “Torin’s here.”
Lisa wiped her hands on her apron and her gut tightened. “Donja’s gone,” she said with a bit more bite in her voice than she intended.
“Yes, Mrs. Hampton, I’m aware but I felt it best that I speak to you without Donja present,” Torin said as he emerged from behind Carson.
For a moment, Lisa just stared at the steam rising over the pudding. Finally, she said, “Very well, take a seat.” She picked up the knife, slicing a banana, avoiding eye contact.
Torin took a bar stool. “Hmm, what is that? It smells wonderful.”
Lisa raised her eyes and scanned his white shirt which was partially open, his dark slacks and then his expensive leather shoes so polished she could see herself.
Typical rich playboy, she thought.
“It’s banana pudding,” she said, “Frankie’s favorite, but Donja likes chocolate. She’s loved it since the day she could walk but I doubt that you know that about her.”
“No, I can’t say that I do,” Torin replied with coruscating eyes.
“What can I do for you, Torin?” she asked bluntly.
“First and foremost, I wanted to let you know that I respect you as Donja’s mother. With that said, I wanted you to be the first to know, you as well Mr. Hampton,” he said before he returned his gaze to Lisa, “that I’ll be asking Donja to marry me.”
Lisa dropped the knife which bounced on the counter top, staring, speechless. Carson moved to her side. “Excuse me, Torin, but isn’t that a little fast,” Carson questioned.
“No, not really,” he sighed with a scintillating stare. “I love her, and she loves me.”
“She’s too young,” Lisa blurted, “she has another year of school and then college to think of and—”
“And I will make sure she goes,” Torin interrupted.
Carson and Lisa shared a look as an awkward silence settled upon them.
“Torin,” Carson said shattering the icy nether, “forgive our shock, but surely you can understand that a mere week ago, Donja was just a kid, into goth and crazy music that made us want to scream. She’s suffering right now, she just moved here and lost all her friends and I guess what I’m trying to say is, she’s not thinking clearly.” He put his arm around Lisa. “Please, you drive a nice car and you’re obviously from money, or great debt,” he said lightly, “but marriage and taking on a wife is a serious business and Donja’s just not stable enough for something that drastic. I don’t know if you realize but she’s suffered the death of her father and I don’t use the word suffer lightly.” He narrowed his eyes. “Anyway, your age…it’s just not a good fit for a young girl.”
Torin licked his lips. “I hear what you’re saying, but I’m afraid you underestimate Donja. She’s a remarkable young woman and let me assure you,” he said with a defiant glint in his eyes, “I have no debt, quite the contrary. I have more money than I could spend in a lifetime. Donja will never want for anything. Now granted, I am older, but we love each other and to be honest age has nothing to do with love.” He cleared his throat. “Forgive me and not to be rude,” Torin said sharing a look with Carson, “but you actually look a few years older than your wife, Mr. Hampton.”
Carson cut his eyes to Lisa as the blood drained from his face.
“How dare you,” Lisa blurted, gripping Carson’s arm. “Listen to me. It’s not going to happen,” she glowered, “Now get out of our house!”
From the foyer, the signature creak of floorboards not only stalled Lisa’s words but drew every eye. “Yes, Mom, it is,” Donja’s voice rang as she and Makayla came waltzing in. Torin turned just as Donja waltzed over to him and planted a kiss on his lips. “This is a surprise,” she said, palming his cheeks with a forced smile, “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I wanted to do the right thing and talk with your mother.” He lifted his chin. “You smell like ashes, have you been around a fire?”
Donja and Makayla shared a look.
“We…yes…a friend of mine’s father was burning leaves,” Makayla stammered.
“Ahhh,” Torin smiled suspiciously.
Donja cocked her head and met his gaze. “So, you came to talk to my mom, about us?”
“Yes, as I said, she’s your mother and though I wanted my intentions to be a surprise, I suppose the cat’s out of the bag.”
“Well, Donja mused, “as you can see,” she said with a cold look to her mom, “if you were going to ask what I hope you were going to ask, we’ll have to elope. She’ll never go for it. In case you haven’t noticed,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “she’s got a stubborn streak a mile long.”
“Donja, what on earth has come over you,” Lisa blurted her voice breaking. “You just met this man and that’s exactly what he is, a man, not a boy. He’s long past high school, he’s—”
“What, Mom?” Donja interrupted with a fiery gaze. “Handsome, rich, in love with me,” she snapped with a sarcastic tone unbecoming a seventeen-year-old.
“Donja, don’t talk to your mother like that!” Carson said with a gruff tone.
Donja faced off with him. “Well my mother needs to realize that I’m not ten anymore,” she glowered. “I’m in love and I int
end to marry this man, with or without her blessing.” She turned to Torin. “Do you have my ring?”
“I do,” he answered softly as he stood and pulled a velvet box from his pants pocket. “Donja,” he said as he dropped to one knee. He rocked his head and their eyes locked as he snapped the velvet box open. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Donja’s hand flew to her mouth as she eyed the ring which must have been a twenty-carat solitaire. “Yes,” she squealed, feigning joy that didn’t even closely match the raging cauldron within. She wiped at her dry eyes, praying her mother bought the performance.
“Donja, I forbid this!” Lisa snapped, clinging to Carson.
Donja, who was now trembling, noticed the pain on Lisa’s face as Torin slid the ring on her finger.
“Donja, you need to go to your room and Torin I think it best that you leave,” Lisa blurted, tears streaking her cheek.
Ignoring her, Donja slid into Torin’s arms and kissed him, passionately. She pulled back and with their eyes fused, whispered, “I need a bath and a change of clothes. Can you come back in a few hours? I’ll be waiting,” she cooed with a hand to his cheek.”
Torin kissed her nose, then turned to Lisa. “I can feel your pain and I’m sorry…truly I am, but I promise you she will not only be safe, but happy.”
Donja’s heart flipped in her chest, the word ‘safe’ forcing a shudder.
Lisa fired daggers from her glistening eyes.
“Again, I’m sorry for your pain, Torin reiterated, “but isn’t happiness all that’s important in this very short life we live, Mrs. Hampton?”
Donja’s stomach churned.
Carson took Lisa in his arms as her sobs resonated. “I will not accept this,” Lisa screeched, “and I’m asking you one last time. Leave our home!”
Donja, beleaguered by emotion she feared she could no longer hide, grasped Torin’s arm. “I apologize for her manners, but she’s right. You need to get out of here so that I can get ready. She took his hand, leading him to the front door. Just out of sight of the kitchen, her affect shifted dramatically, her eyes a mix of boiling rage. “Be back here in three hours. We need to talk.”
“You look so beautiful when you’re angry,” he said as he kissed her nose. “I have always thought anger and passion are closely related, the way the pupils dilate. Three hours,” he whispered as he stroked her cheek with a bent finger, then took his leave.
Donja whirled and headed for the stairs, hoping to avoid her mother’s sorrow, but as she passed the kitchen she saw her in Carson’s arms sobbing. She took the stairs, two at time, her mother’s sobs, her pounding heart and the creaking of treads like a tempest of demons ravaging her soul. She ran down the hallway to her room and inside the door, fell into Makayla’s arms.
“I can’t believe he did this. My mom’s devastated.”
Makayla hugged her tight. “Shush, it’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not ever going to be okay,” Donja sobbed, pulling back, wiping at her face. “He just destroyed her, and he doesn’t even care.”
“I know it doesn’t seem that way, not just now, but she’ll get over it, Donja. Talk to her. You have the power to convince her that you love him.”
“Convince her,” she snarled. “That won’t be easy because at this moment, I detest him.”
“Oh really? Makayla smirked, that’s a bit strange. I heard you calling his name in your sleep.”
“But it’s not real,” Donja blubbered, “it’s not love. It’s just an illusion. He has some weird power, pheromones or what I don’t know. Mom’s right, I can’t be in love with him, I barely even know him. It’s just like…like he has me under a spell. My body wants him, needs him, but my head knows something is just not right!”
“I think it is real,” Makayla whispered, “and maybe it’s your head that’s wrong, lying to you because it hurts your mom. Maybe your body is telling you the truth. I watched you in the middle of the night, tossing and turning, calling his name. To thine own self be true.”
Donja dropped her head. There was no denying her dreams, but to call his name out loud. Unbelievable. “I’m not responsible for my dreams, maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, but I can tell you this: my family’s off limits and the more pain he inflicts, the more I…I…fear I will hate him.”
Makayla’s empathy faded, replaced by measurable concern. “Careful, sister, hate’s a powerful word and it leaves scars for a lifetime.”
“Powerful,” Donja hissed. “Really? More powerful than love? All I know is that hate has never hurt me, but love sure as hell has.”
Makayla dropped her head. “I hear your pain, hell I’ve lived it, but you need to think, not only about your feelings, but the lives of this family.” She snapped her head up and they shared a teary look. “Just be careful, sister. Once you cross that fine line with the Council, it’s difficult getting back on solid ground.”
Donja spun to the window, she didn’t want to hear it, she wanted to scream, beat his chest till he wailed in agony, but who was she fooling? Lying to herself wouldn’t change the facts and like it or not, Makayla was right. He held her life as well as the lives of her entire family in his hands. She sighed, and though she knew better, she couldn’t capitulate, he was hurting the people she loved. Her jaw tightened.
A knock on the door forced a look from them both. The door creaked opened and Lisa, red eyed with tears glistening her cheeks, came in. “Makayla, can we have a moment please?”
“Sure,” Makayla said with a glint of warning in her baby blues as she held Donja’s gaze. She spun, gliding for the door and took her leave but not before a final look to Donja that required no words.
The minute the door closed, Lisa blurted. “Anna is coming up for a visit and when she leaves, I want you to go back with her, see your friends, who knows, maybe you and Kevin will hit it off again.”
Donja, shook her head. “No. It’s not gonna happen.”
Lisa took a step forward. “Donja, please, something’s going on here, something I can’t put my finger on, but I’m terrified. Anna warned me that bringing you here was dangerous, she said something about an evil presence in the Soo, but I didn’t believe her. I thought she just wanted to hold on to you. Now,” she paused, “I’m not so sure she wasn’t right.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Donja said turning away, certain she could read her thoughts.
“You’re possessed by this man, I can see it in your eyes.”
Donja turned and fired a look. “I’m not possessed, I’m in love and I’m going to marry him, so accept it and help me plan a wedding or else you better chain me to the bed because I’ll leave and never come back, do you hear me?” she wailed. “Make your choice!”
“Your father would be so ashamed of you right now,” Lisa mumbled, tears streaking her cheeks.
Her words hit a nerve and Donja felt it like a stab to the heart. “My father’s dead! I may follow in his footsteps, who knows, we’re not promised anything in this life but until then, I’m going to live for me, not for you, not grandma, not for anyone, so get that through your thick skull!” She raised her chin defiantly. “After losing the man you loved, or at least the one you once loved, I would think that you of all people would understand.” She turned her back, biting her lip. “I guess I was wrong. Now go away. I need to get dressed,” she said with as much malice as she could muster.
“I don’t know you anymore, Donja,” Lisa sobbed, “but I love you and I won’t give up on you.”
Donja whirled. “And if that’s true, be happy for me. I love you too, Mom, but I can’t live without him. Has it been that long since you felt that way about a man or have you gotten so old you can’t remember?”
Lisa dropped her head. “Perhaps I did…once, but regardless, I’m not too old to be a mother,” she sniffled. “You’re still my child and if you force my hand, I’ll call the authorities and have him locked up and labeled as sex offender.”
Donja’s eyes widened,
impaled by fear.
They’ll kill us all.
She marched defiantly across the room, stopping short of Lisa’s face. “Go ahead,” she glowered. “You can’t watch me twenty-four seven and Italy’s an awful big place. You’ll never lay eyes on me again.”
Lisa gasped, eyes wide with a hand to her mouth. She spun in a flurry of devastating sobs and took a hasty exit.
Donja kicked the door
Damn you, Torin…damn you!
Sweet Surrender
After a long soak in the bear claw tub, deep in thought with tears forming splash circles on the surface of the bathwater, Donja emerged from the liquid misery, dried her hair and sat down to do her makeup. She tilted her head back and with a Visine bottle in hand, squeezed droplets into both eyes, hoping to vanquish what looked like a red roadmap.
Makayla, who was busy moving her things upstairs to the new bedroom, paused at the door. “Would you like me to move your things upstairs to your room while you’re out?”
Donja spoke without looking. “No, I’m not moving up there, my grandmother’s coming to visit, she can have my new room.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Donja frowned, “I won’t need it, I’ll be leaving here soon.”
“But our new bath has a nice tiled shower with glass doors, a makeup counter and the lighting’s superb. Just think about it. If you move, there won’t be any more baths in ‘ghost lady’s,’ stinky bathtub.”
Donja spun to face her. “Good point but we’ll have to share your room. I don’t want my grandma down here.”
Makayla exhaled. “Sounds wonderful and to be honest, it’s a relief. I was dreading losing my Prozac. It’s been so wonderful having you in my life…I…I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Ditto,” Donja smiled wearily. “Now, I need a favor.”
“Sure, anything.”
“Try and cheer my mom up. She’s in a bad place right now and it’s killing me.”
“Sure thing.”
Donja finished up her makeup, Makayla making endless trips with arms stuffed in and out of the bedroom. She got dressed, then hearing a car door through the open window, leaned into the lighted mirror. Her bloodshot eyes looked almost normal. She applied lip gloss and stood up. Hearing Makayla bounding down the stairs, she smoothed her hair.