Pyxis: The Discovery (Pyxis Series)

by K. C. Neal

  “What’s going on?” Bradley stood in the doorway with his hair askew. He wore his glasses—it was too early for contacts.

  Mom filled him in, and I ran downstairs under the pretext of needing to change and get ready to leave. I burst into my room, and Mason started in alarm.

  “Are you awake?” I tried to keep my excitement down to a whisper. “Oh my God, Mason! You’ll never believe what’s happened. I just talked to Aunt Dorothy. She’s lucid. She’s okay.”

  He sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed, and swiped his hands over his eyes. “What? Are you sure?”

  “Yes! I talked to her on the phone.” My excitement tempered a little when I remembered her words. “She knows about the pyxis and the dreams. And she said we have work to do.”

  He propped his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands—not quite the ecstatic response I’d expected. I stared at him, and then sat down on the bed next to him. “Are you all right?” I touched his shoulder.

  He nodded and let his hands drop. “I’m just relieved, I guess.” His voice was thick, as if he were on the verge of tears. “All this time, I knew I’d have to protect you. To help you somehow. But I didn’t know from what or how.”

  I examined his face in the semi-daylight that illuminated the room. His forehead was lined with worry, and the tiredness in his eyes made him look about ten years older. I remembered all the nights he’d shown up here to comfort me, all the times he’d known I was distressed, and I tried to imagine feeling obligated—compelled, even—to help someone without a clue what to do or expect.

  I slipped my hand around his back and under his arm, and I leaned against him. His arm curved around my shoulders.

  “She’s going to help us.” I tried to sound confident and reassuring.

  “I hope so.”

  We sat there for a moment, but when I heard footsteps above us, I knew we needed to get moving.

  “I gotta get ready to go,” I said, gently extracting myself from under his arm. “My mom, Brad, and I are going to pick her up and bring all her stuff home.”

  Mason stood and stretched. His fingertips brushed the low ceiling. I ran out to the TV room to grab his jacket, and when I returned, he’d fixed his shirt and stood bent over my dresser mirror, finger-combing his hair.

  “Little rumpled this morning, but you looked awesome last night,” I said, giving him a half-smile as he pulled on his jacket. I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d thought so. I felt a weird mix of pride and protectiveness thinking about how the girls at the dance had stared at him.

  “Thanks.” He didn’t look at me, but he had a sheepish grin on his face. “Call me as soon as you get back?”

  I nodded, and he slipped out of my room and quietly opened the basement door leading to the back yard. He used his key to lock the deadbolt from the outside.

  I changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, then sat on my purple chair and pulled my knees up to my chest. I needed to talk to Ang.

  “Hi, Corinne,” Ang answered, her voice a little hoarse.

  “Hey! So … how did things go last night?”

  “It was the best night ever!” she said, her voice much more animated. “He kissed me at the dance, and we made out for, like, an hour on your sofa.”

  “Do we need to have the talk, Angeline?” I made my voice sound deep and serious.

  “Oh my gosh, no! But,” she paused dramatically. “I think there’s something you’d like to tell me?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about?” I said.

  “Somebody said you and Mason were—I think ‘sucking face’ was the exact expression. You told me nothing was going on!”

  “Oh, we kissed, but it was just a case of getting swept up in the moment,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “We talked about it, and it was just … not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal? I so do not believe you,” she said. “I heard you made out for, like, an entire song.”

  “Rumors! Complete exaggeration.”

  “Fine, you’re not going to tell me. Whatever. You’ll totally spill it eventually.”

  “Nothing to spill,” I said. “But I have some other news.” I told her about Aunt Dorothy.

  “That is completely amazing!” Ang said, genuine joy in her voice. “Corinne, I’m so happy for you. I know how much you miss Grandma Doris. Maybe it will help a little to have Aunt Dorothy back. And finally, someone to explain all the pyxis mysteriousness to us!”

  “Yeah.” My voice wavered on the edge of tears as I tried not to cry for about the hundredth time in the past week. “I can’t wait to see her.”

  We hung up, and I grabbed my green suede sneakers and bounded upstairs. Bradley was standing over the kitchen sink with a glass of orange juice in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. “Hey, grab something to eat,” he said. “Mom already left with the van, and you and I are taking her car.”

  I gulped some orange juice and stuffed a water bottle and granola bar in my bag. I hopped from foot to foot while I waited for Bradley to get his wallet and keys.

  || 29 ||

  ONCE BRADLEY AND I were a few miles out of Tapestry, I asked, “How was your night with Sophie?” I tried to keep the edge of sarcasm out of my voice because I was truly curious.

  My brother looked relatively unharmed. At least she hadn’t bitten his head off, or marked him with the sign of the ho-bag. Well, not in any place that I could see, anyway.

  He shot me a wry look and then returned his eyes to the road. “Lovely.”

  “Oh, come on! Did you meet her parents? Give me a little something.”

  “Yeah, I met her parents. Then we went to Carly’s for dinner,” he said. Carly’s was a little restaurant in a hotel near the lake. It was the nicest place in town.

  “Oh, Carly’s. It must be serious,” I said, trying to be lighthearted. But the thought of Brad and Sophie together still made me slightly ill.

  He tried to hide his grin by looking out the driver’s side window.

  I took a deep breath, determined to act like an adult. “Okay, so tell me. What do you like about her?”

  He was silent for a few seconds. “She’s funny. And she’s a lot of fun. She likes to get out and try to new things. She’s pretty fearless. And she’s really devoted to the people she cares about.”

  Thank God he didn’t say anything about her rack or … no, I couldn’t go there. I thought about what he said, how different his Sophie sounded from mine. If I didn’t know her, the girl he described sounded like a pretty awesome match for him. Sophie had earned the title of my least favorite person on earth over the past five years, but when we were little kids, she’d been one of my best friends. Bradley was right; she was adventurous. She used to swim farther out in the lake than any of the other kids, and she was always the first to climb just a few more feet when we went cliff diving.

  It would kill me to admit it out loud, but she could be loyal. When we were in the third grade, an older kid shoved me out of the foursquare line. I skidded on the sandy blacktop and scraped up my knees and palms. Sophie marched toward him and threw the red rubber ball at his face as hard as she could. He ducked, and the ball bounced off his shoulder, so she ran up and kicked him in the crotch. She’d been playing dirty since a very young age, I realized, and I smirked.

  So, maybe she had a few redeeming qualities, but that fact didn’t change that she could be incredibly cruel. She was merciless if you had the misfortune to land on her bad list. And her temper was legendary.

  “I know you don’t like her, but I do.” Brad’s voice was firm and a little defensive. He must have taken my silence as dissent.

  “I’m glad you’re happy, but she’s been really awful to me over the years,” I said quietly. “I think we’re just going to have to agree to disagree on this one.”

  We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, and then he cleared his throat. “Okay, now you. What the hell is up with Mason? And don’t say ‘nothing.’ I saw you at the danc
e last night, where you kissed him, I might add.”

  I groaned. “Ugh, not this again. Yeah, so we kissed. But it was just … I don’t know. He brought a flask, and I got a little drunk. It’s not like we’re together or anything.”

  “Why are you so resistant to it? Everyone loves the kid. He’s obviously into you. You must like him, too, or you wouldn’t be letting him in your room, like, every other night. You could do a hell of a lot worse, Corinne.”

  “It’s just … not like that.”

  “You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you? Are you pregnant?” he asked, glancing at me with true alarm in his eyes.

  “No, I’m not pregnant! Jesus, Brad. I’m still a virgin. I’m just trying to, um, work out some stuff,” I said as I flapped my hand in the air. There was no way I could explain about the pyxis, and the dreams, and Grandma Doris’s letter. “I guess Mason is trying to work out some stuff, too.”

  “Geez, could you be any vaguer? You’re not exactly reassuring me.”

  “I just don’t want to get into it.” I turned and looked out my window.

  “Will you tell Mom and Dad, or me, if you need help?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I answered. But my problems weren’t of the sort that my parents or my big brother could solve for me.

  When we arrived at the retirement home, I saw my dad’s van parked near a side door in an area marked “Loading Zone.” I hopped out of the car as soon as Bradley came to a full stop, and ran ahead to the entrance.

  “Dorothy Conner?” I asked at the front desk. The medicine-disinfectant smell assaulted my nose, and I tried not to make a face. The receptionist pointed to a door off the lobby. I peeked into the small office and saw my mom and Aunt Dorothy sitting at a table with paperwork spread in front of them.

  “Aunt Dorothy!” I rushed to her. She looked worn, but her eyes were bright. She barely had time to get to her feet before I engulfed her. She felt fragile as a bird in my arms. My eyes filled with happy tears as I tried not to squeeze her too hard. Mom’s face looked a little pinched. Maybe she was worried that Dorothy wasn’t as well as she appeared.

  I let go of my great-aunt, and she reached up to pat my cheek. “I can’t tell you how very good it is to see you, my dear.” Her smile was so like Grandma Doris’s that a fresh wave of tears flooded my eyes.

  I examined her face for any signs of illness or confusion. She looked tired. Her skin was pale, and the soft wrinkles covering her face seemed a little deeper and her cheeks more hollow than I remembered. I silently vowed to spend some time at her house cooking some of my grandmother’s recipes. I’d stock her fridge and freezer with all kinds of delicious things.

  Bradley came in behind me, and I let go of Aunt Dorothy so he could hug her.

  “Can we leave soon?” I asked, turning to my mom. She was reading over the paperwork on the table.

  “I need to pay this month’s bill and sign a few more forms. Why don’t you go with Dorothy to her room and help her finish packing?” She looked over at my brother. “Brad, you could start loading some of the larger things into the van.”

  As Aunt Dorothy led me to her room, I practically danced down the hallway. I’d nearly given up hope that the white liquid would do anything for her, and I didn’t even want to think about what that would have meant for Mason, Ang, and me.

  Her tiny room had a single bed, a nightstand, a dresser, a trunk at the foot of the bed, a floor lamp, and rocking chair in the corner. Bradley hefted the rocking chair and eased it out the door. Two large suitcases and three duffel bags yawned open and empty on the bed.

  “I’ll pack your things!” I volunteered. I couldn’t stop grinning. “You can sit there on the trunk and tell me what to do. How are you feeling? Is your memory totally back? Are you tired? What happened to you, anyway?”

  She lowered herself gingerly onto the trunk. “I do believe my memory is completely restored, yes. As much as it can be at my age, anyway. As for what happened to me, I think that’s a conversation best saved for later, my dear.”

  She fell silent as Bradley returned for another load. I pulled clothes from the closet and folded them over on their hangers before placing them in one of the suitcases. I swept underwear, bras, socks, slips, and nightgowns from the drawers and stuffed them in bags as quickly as possible. She didn’t seem to mind my haphazard packing method. I filled another bag with shoes and zipped it shut.

  “What about your toiletries and things?” I asked.

  “Look behind the door, dear.” She pointed. “There’s a built-in cabinet and some drawers. Everything can go in my train case.” She indicated a little, rectangular suitcase covered with floral upholstery. I unzipped it to find trays and pouches of every size, and I packed her cosmetics, creams, and powders.

  I was nearly finished packing when my mom arrived to help. We removed the drawers from the dresser so it wouldn’t be so heavy, and carried them out to the van, two at a time. Bradley and I tipped the dresser on its side and each took an end. Within half an hour, the room was bare except for the bed and bedding, which belonged to the facility.

  I’d hoped to ride back with Aunt Dorothy, but Mom said she wanted to talk to her alone, so I climbed back into the Subaru with Bradley. I started typing a text to Mason and Ang.

  We’re on r way back to Tapestry! Aunt D really seems ok. Says her memory is back. She didn’t want 2 talk about what happened 2 her while others were around, tho. I’ll try to get some time alone w her 2nite.

  A few minutes later I got Mason’s reply: Thx for the update, gr8 2 hear. Looking forward to talking to her. And u.

  I turned up the music, one of my brother’s college bands. It was all I could do to sit still during the ride from Danton.

  Mom called me a few miles outside of Tapestry to let me know she was going to stop by the café so Dad could see Aunt Dorothy. She wanted Brad and me to go to turn up the heat and give the place a quick, spit shine before Aunt Dorothy got there. We stopped by our house so I could run in and get the key to my grandmother’s house,

  We passed Mr. Sykes’s house, and I realized he needed to know what had happened. So, when Bradley parked the car, I ran across the street and tell Mr. Sykes that Aunt Dorothy was coming home. I knocked and rang his doorbell, but no one answered. I pulled a small notebook out of my bag and dashed off a note.

  It worked! Aunt Dorothy is better, and she’s moving home today. Hope to see you soon. Corinne Finley

  I slipped the note through the mail slot in his door and raced back across the street to Aunt Dorothy’s house. Bradley had unlocked the house and was sweeping the front steps. I left my bag on the kitchen counter and went around opening all the shutters and curtains. I found a dust rag under the kitchen sink and wiped down all the furniture on the first floor. I hummed to myself, happy to realize that I wasn’t haunted by the dream of the shadow-man and the cakes that turned to ash. Maybe this house would once again be a place where I felt safe and welcome.

  Despite my excitement, her words about the work we needed to do and things we needed to prepare for flitted like agitated moths around the edges of my mind.

  || 30 ||

  MOM, BRAD, AND I moved all of Aunt Dorothy’s things into the house and helped her unpack. We vacuumed the floors, wiped down the kitchen, made up her bed, and finished dusting. Dad escaped from the café for a few minutes to come and check on us, and he and Aunt Dorothy disappeared into the den to speak alone.

  After we’d done as much as we could to put the house in order, I volunteered to stay behind and help Aunt Dorothy make a grocery list. Dad told me to drive her anywhere she needed to go. I got the impression my parents didn’t really want her out driving by herself just yet. I hardly blamed them. Her recovery did appear awfully sudden and miraculous.

  Aunt Dorothy sat at the kitchen table while I filled the kettle and put it on the stove. I looked through cabinets for a box of tea and finally found some jasmine in the pantry. I sat down across from her to wait for the water to boil.
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  “I don’t even know where to begin,” I said. “So much has happened, and I have so many questions for you.”

  “Maybe we should get your friend Mason over here before I begin with any explanations,” she said. “Do you think he might be available? Angeline, too.”

  “Mason is probably waiting for me to call. Ang is at some church thing, but I’ll send her a text.” I dug my phone from my bag and called Mason. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I said. “I’m at Aunt Dorothy’s. Can you come over?”

  “Yeah, I’ll leave now. I’m walking, so it’ll be a few.”

  “That’s okay, we’re not going anywhere. See you soon,” I said, and we hung up.

  I got up to take the kettle off the burner and pour us each a mug of tea. “He’ll be here as soon as he can.” I handed her a mug and returned to my spot at the table.

  She wrapped her hands around her mug and blew across the top of it. Her eyes roved over the kitchen, and for the first time, it dawned on me that she’d never lived there without my grandmother.

  “How does it feel to be home?” I asked, my voice and smile tentative. I couldn’t take my eyes from her. It was hard to believe we were sitting across from each other, just like we used to.

  “Oh….” She sighed. “I’m so glad to be back here with you all. But I suppose it’ll take some adjusting. The house feels bigger than I remember.”

  “We didn’t do much to the house after … after Grandma died.” I looked down at the table. I tried to swallow the lump growing in my throat. I didn’t want to spoil her homecoming, but it was hard to see Aunt Dorothy here and know that Grandma Doris was gone. I’d always thought of this as my grandmother’s kitchen, since Dorothy wasn’t much of a cook. It didn’t seem right that the two of us could be sitting here without her.

  “It is very strange that she is not here, isn’t it?” Aunt Dorothy said quietly.

  I nodded and looked up to see a single tear roll down her soft, wrinkled cheek. I’d never seen her get emotional, and she’d certainly never cried in front of me. Of the two sisters, she was always a bit harder around the edges. My grandmother used to say it was because having children and grandchildren breaks you down a bit and softens you. Without any children, Aunt Dorothy had retained her crusty exterior. But I suspected those differences between them had always existed.