Grasping at Eternity (The Kindrily)

by Karen Amanda Hooper

  “Even with the support of two kindrilies?”

  “Elements are still human, Nathaniel. Alchemy is the manipulation and control of the powers of nature. Whether white or black magic, the witches who practice it will never believe that anything, or anyone, is stronger. Not even all the kindrilies united together.”

  “But we are stronger. We could convince them if someone would step forward.”

  “Yes. If only.” Using her cane, she lowered herself into a patio chair, still impressively nimble for her age and mentally sharp as well. I couldn’t imagine the day her mortal clock would stop ticking. Losing her would obliterate me and everyone else in our kindrily.

  “Someone will come forward. I have to believe that. The alternative is…” I couldn’t think of a word severe enough to convey how tragic Dedrick’s plan would be if he succeeded.

  A gust of salty sea air blew Sheila’s long hair into a tornado of white and gold. “How is our favorite girl? You don’t mention her much. Did you pay her a birthday visit?”

  Stabbing pains rippled through my chest. I would never understand how a heart as broken as mine continued to beat. “No.”

  Sheila let out a disappointed tsk. “You’ve visited her every year since you were wee babes.”

  I’d visited Maryah on her birthday and Christmas every year like clockwork, but it had been for nothing. I pushed away the memory of River with his arm around her. I could only imagine the frivolous birthday gifts he gave her. Perhaps more jewelry, or something worse. “Not this year. Things are different. All trace of the soul we knew is gone forever.”

  Sheila took each of my hands into hers. “If it were anyone but Mary, I wouldn’t have this unwavering faith in what seems like the impossible. But it is her. She proved there are exceptions to the system if you will it to be so. If anyone can recover from erasure, it’s her.”

  Throughout all of my existence I could count the number of times I cried on one hand. I refused to let Sheila see me break down.

  “How?” I pleaded through burning eyes. I wanted to feel the confidence Sheila possessed. But why were we fighting so hard to reverse the result of Maryah’s free will to choose? My voice cracked as I finally asked the most painful question out loud. “How could she erase me?”

  “I don’t know,” Sheila whimpered. Her tears welled for both of us. “But there had to be a reason, a reason more important than any of us understands.”

  We sat in silence, watching the waves crash below us. Sheila’s eyes drifted closed, and I thought she was sleeping until she asked, “Ye gave her the ring?”

  “Louise did. Maryah hardly glances at it. She doesn’t see its power anymore.”

  “Bah. I still say she and I should have a sit down. My kind isn’t a big secret like yours. She might believe a batty old psychic like me.” Sheila shook her cane. “I’ll show her my tarot cards, inject some history into that fresh mind of hers, and tug some memories loose. She needs a good shaking up, she does. That’s all.”

  I smiled, seeing glimpses of the rambunctious child she had been ninety some years ago. She hadn’t lost the fiery spirit she inherited from her mother. “Right now, you’re needed here.”

  “I’ll be visiting Amber once her babe arrives. That seems good a time as any.”

  I nodded, appeasing her until then. Several weeks remained until Amber’s due date.

  “So.” Sheila rested her chin in her hand. It was hours past her bedtime. “I suppose you’ll be on your way then, traveling around and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong rather than spending time with me here on the island.”

  I sat beside her and held her hand. Her skin felt like soft paper, another reminder of how fragile she had become. “I wish I could stay longer. Truly, I do. But Edgar found a new lead.”

  She squeezed my hand, shaking it gently. “I’ll ring you if I hear anything from the covens or other psychics.”

  “I may not be reachable by phone at times, but as soon as I’m finished I’ll come back here and spend time with you. We’ll go letterboxing and find you some new treasures.”

  “That’d be lovely.”

  “Come, Sheila. Time for bed. You look tired.”

  She pinched my cheek. “Not as tired as you look, ye old handsome thing.”

  I assisted her to her bedroom and tucked her in. “Sleep well, love. The stars are waiting for you.”

  DIGGING TOO DEEP

  Maryah

  My hands were cramping from clenching Faith’s fuzzy pink pillow too tight. I tossed it on her bed and cracked my knuckles. She needed to hurry up. I didn’t want food or a movie. I wanted to pick her brain about reincarnation.

  My reflection in Faith’s full-length mirror caught my attention. The mirror hung on a door that joined Faith and Harmony’s rooms. Should I walk in there and ask her to help me talk to my mother? See if she could explain more? If I did, Harmony would know everything. She’d think my mother and I were insane. Or she’d think Louise was insane. Either way, communicating with spirits about being part of some eternal family did not sound anywhere remotely close to normal.

  I flopped down on Faith’s bed and threw my arms over my head. My ring flew off and bounced onto the floor. I slid off the bed to search for it and saw a pair of scissors and the corner of a plastic storage bin peeking out from the bed skirt. Through the white plastic of the bin, I could see a glue stick, markers, and other craft supplies. I pulled out the box to toss the scissors inside, but sparkly pens rolled over a picture of me at my birthday party. Scrapbooking. Another hobby Faith attempted to get me into but failed.

  I leaned down and looked under her bed, still searching for my ring. It was sitting against a bunch of photo albums, so I grabbed it, slid it back onto my thumb then reached for the nearest two books among the piles. I made myself comfortable in Faith’s beanbag chair. At least I’d have a distraction while I waited for her to get back.

  Faith’s artistic flare adorned every colorful page of dance recitals, holidays, and Colbert family history. She and Shiloh must have known each other forever. In a few pictures they looked like they were only four or five years old. I opened the second massively thick book, handling it delicately.

  The pages looked old; faded to a color between white and brown. There were no stickers, sparkly quotes, or descriptions. The first few pages were hand-drawn sketches of people. Further into the book, little corner tabs held black and white photos in place. I studied each one, smiling at the old clothes and hairstyles—until one photo made me lift the book to examine it closer.

  An old couple stood in front of a '57 Desoto. They looked old enough to be grandparents. Behind them was the gated archway to the Luna house. I carefully removed the picture from its tabs and stared at...my car. I turned over the picture and there, written in my handwriting, were the words Nathaniel and Me—Sedona—new house.

  I read it over and over, expecting the words to say something else, but every time it said the same impossible thing.

  I kept flipping through pages. Familiar eyes stared back at me from every page, but they were on faces of people I didn’t recognize, until one photograph caught my attention. Three faces I did recognize stared back at me. The colors weren’t as vivid or bright as today’s digital photography, but Mary’s green eyes looked just as bright as they did on Nathan’s nightstand. She wore a wedding dress—and next to her, stood twenty-something versions of Louise and Anthony.

  No. Freaking. Way. My ears buzzed so loud they hurt. I pressed my palm against one of them, but kept studying the photo.

  The elderly Asian couple didn’t look familiar at first. Then it hit me. It seemed genetically impossible, but the short woman in her silky kimono stared back at me through Faith’s blue eyes. Add some height, braids, and youth to the old guy and the resemblance to Shiloh was uncanny. I turned it over. Again, my handwriting: Our wedding (19).

  A dried white flower and a peacock feather were pressed into a piece of folded wax paper on the same page. What did ninet
een mean? What did any of this mean?

  Faith’s voice coming down the hallway jolted me out of my disbelief. I snapped the book shut and shoved it behind the beanbag chair then jumped to my feet just as the bedroom door opened.

  “Sorry, I thought I’d be back by the time you…” Faith paused and set the bags of take-out on her dresser. “Are you all right? You look pale—paler than usual.”

  My ears still hummed and my mouth felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton balls, but I forced myself to speak. “Getting a headache.”

  “No headaches allowed on your birthday. I’ll get aspirin and make us party drinks!”

  As soon as she left the room I grabbed the books and slid them back under the bed. I felt like I’d wandered onto another planet; a planet where lack of oxygen made it hard for me to think or breathe. How could my handwriting be on those pictures? Mary-Maryah. It couldn’t be. I couldn’t be her.

  Faith came back holding two pink Shirley Temples in her hand. She set one on her nightstand and reached out with a closed fist. I opened my palm and watched two white pills drop into my hand. Every move I made felt alien to me, like I was disconnected from my body.

  Faith took a sip of her pink drink then did a double take and focused on my thigh. I looked down. One black photo tab was stuck to my sweatpants.

  When our eyes met, her face tensed. She grabbed my hand and the aspirin dropped to the floor. She squeezed my fingers tight. “Maryah, don’t be scared.”

  “I’m not scared,” I lied.

  “You’re terrified, and you’re nauseous too.”

  My eyes widened. The room spun. I pulled my hand away from her. “I have to go.”

  “Please don’t leave. We need to talk about this.”

  I kept walking, praying she wouldn’t try to stop me. My mind was still stuck on the photos and drawings, but my feet kept moving. I passed Harmony in the hallway but couldn’t look at her. I waved goodbye to their dad, and left the house without another word.

  When I was a safe distance away, I parked in an empty lot, unclenching the steering wheel. My thoughts corkscrewed around each other. Why was the Desoto in that photo? My parents had the car before I was born, but had they ever mentioned who or where they got it from? Those old people couldn’t be Nathan and me. That bride couldn't be me. All of it was insane. I hadn’t moved to Sedona, I’d moved to the Twilight Zone.

  I dialed Krista. Please be awake. Please be awake. Voicemail.

  “Kris, it’s me. Call me as soon as you get this.” My voice cracked on my last words. “I want—no, I need to come home.”

  Next I tried River.

  “What’s up?” he shouted. Loud music and a rumble of incoherent noise blasted through the receiver.

  “Where are you? I need to talk to you.”

  “What?”

  I yelled louder. “Where are you?”

  “I told you, my uncle’s in town. You bailed on me so I’m out with him and his friends.”

  A girl laughed. She sounded so close she must’ve been on his lap. “Is April with you?”

  “What?” More loud noise.

  “Can I meet up with you?”

  Another girly laugh was followed by rustling on the phone. I strained to hear if I could make out any of the conversation going on in the background. “I can’t hear you,” River yelled. “And my phone’s about to die. I’ll call you later.”

  He hung up. My head fell back against the headrest. I had no one left to turn to.

  I cranked up my Beatles CD and waited for Krista to call back. I didn’t care how long I had to wait. I wasn’t going back to the Luna house.

  HITTING WHERE IT HURTS

  Maryah

  Knuckles knocking against my window startled me out of my sleep. I lifted my head from my steering wheel and squinted through the frost at the back-lit outline of Anthony. I rolled down my window and tried to fake a smile. “Sorry, I got tired on my way home.”

  Anthony’s sunglasses blocked any evidence of whether he believed me. “You all right?”

  I nodded. Another lie.

  “You should come home.”

  I glanced at my phone. No missed calls. “I think I’ll go into town and get breakfast.”

  A smug smile spread across his lips. “And leave Krista waiting at the house?”

  “WHAT? She isn’t coming until tomorrow.”

  “She caught an earlier flight.”

  Oh, thank god! I needed her more than ever. I tried to start my car but nothing happened, not one cough or chug of the engine. Anthony shook his head. “Did you fall asleep with the headlights on, or the radio?”

  “Radio,” I admitted, biting my lip.

  “You can ride with me. Carson and I will come back and jumpstart her.”

  Anthony and I didn’t talk on the drive home, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the photo of him and Louise at—someone’s wedding. I felt my pocket. The bulge of paper from my mother’s letter was still there. It wasn’t a dream.

  ∞

  I practically flew through the front door and into the living room. I squealed as soon as she sprang up from the couch.

  “Happy Birthday, Pudding!” Krista exclaimed as I catapulted through the air and hugged her—candle smells wafted over me.

  “You’re here! You’re really here.”

  “I heard your message and…caught a different flight.”

  “Happy Birthday, Kris.” I lowered my voice. “I wanted to come to you, back to Baltimore.” I hugged her for way too long, but eventually pulled away to look at her. “We need to talk.”

  She smiled and a sense of normalcy spread over me. Krista was here. Everything would be okay. I’d tell her about the eternal family insanity and she’d take me back to Maryland. Aunt Sandy and Uncle Dave didn’t want me moving out here anyway.

  Anthony never came into the house. He probably stayed outside to tinker in the garage. I didn’t know where Louise and Carson were, but I didn’t want to take any chances. “Let’s go to my room.”

  I shut my door and pulled the letter out of my pocket. “These people are nuts. I should’ve stayed in Maryland. Read this.”

  Krista eyeballed the letter, but didn’t take it. “Your mom told Harmony what it said, and Faith told me you found the photo album.”

  “Faith and Harmony? You talked to them?” I sat in my rattan chair, feeling weak and confused. “Wait. You know about Harmony talking to ghosts?”

  “It’s time I told you some things, things you should’ve known a long time ago.”

  She reached for my hands, but I stuck them under my legs. She raised her fingers to her lips in a prayer position. Since we were little she’d always done that same motion right before she announced something important—and true. Part of me was terrified.

  “You are part of a kindrily. So am I.”

  “You’re joking. Why are you playing along with this?”

  “We’re Elements,” Krista said in the most serious tone I’d ever heard her use. “We all have supernatural gifts. I’m a healer.”

  My head shook. Not Krista too. No way.

  “Think about the attack,” she continued. “The doctors said it would take you months to heal, that you’d have scars. People don’t heal that fast without supernatural help.”

  “But.” I stared at her, thinking of a dozen incidents when Krista took away a pain or illness. I couldn’t recall a time she was injured. The only times she got sick were right after I felt better. Sweat beaded on my forehead, but I couldn’t pull my hands out from under me.

  “When we were kids, I tried to tell you stories, hoping it would trigger your memory, but you always thought I was playing make-believe.”

  The speed of her words increased as she grew more emotional. “Like Pudding. I call you that because it’s what you used to call me. And telling you the stars are waiting for you before you went to sleep, you used to tell me that every night.” She paced the floor as she rambled. “One time I tried to tell you directly, at your
tenth birthday party at Skateland. Nathan was there and we agreed I should tell you, but when I did, you got sick. It was your worst migraine ever. I was scared to mention it again.”

  I stared at her dumbfounded. “You know Nathan?”

  “You two are kind of a big deal,” she teased.

  “He was at my birthday party?”

  She sighed. “He always had to stay incognito, but yes, he visited every year on your birthday and Christmas.”

  My eyes widened. “Since when?”

  “Since you were five.”

  “How is that possible? He was a little kid! I lived across the country.”

  “It’s complicated, but we had plans worked out so he’d never pop in at a bad time. Remember, we all have gifts, Nathan’s is traversing.”

  “Traversing?”

  Krista smiled. “Remember that movie we watched, Jumper? That’s what Nathan does. He can travel almost instantaneously.”

  I pictured the main character teleporting across continents. Krista wouldn’t lie to me. She’d never take the side of a bunch of strangers, or non-strangers.

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded.

  Nathan, the flesh and blood guy I had crushed on, hated, received a car from, and dreamed about, had some super power? I stared at the white comforter on my bed like it was a movie screen. My past several months of dreams played out in front of me: Nathan snowboarding, visiting foreign countries, and flying off mountains. “Wait. Can he fly?”

  Krista laughed. “Not that I know of.”

  I nervously laughed too. As if that was a silly question, yet teleporting should be an acceptable concept. I thought back to my other strange dreams. “He didn’t hang out in your bedroom while you healed some wound on his back, right?”

  Krista’s chin darted forward. “How’d you know that?”

  My answer lingered on my tongue. Like I knew as soon as I said it out loud, everything would change. “I…saw you two…in a dream.”