by Chelsea Luna
The foyer was dark and cluttered. She led us into the front room and pointed to an antique green sofa. I could’ve sworn a plume of dust rose in the air when Peter and I sat on the stiff piece of furniture.
My grandmother reminded me of Miss Havisham from Great Expectations. We were only missing the stale wedding cake and moth-eaten wedding dress. The house had such an overwhelming sense of old, grimy stuffiness.
“Thank you for talking to us,” I said.
Grandma Longfellow sat in an uncomfortable looking chair across from us. She shook her finger. “I didn’t say I’d talk. You said you would talk.”
A side table next to the wall was filled with dusty picture frames. Most of the pictures were of a handsome dark haired man with stubble on his cheeks and chin. He had my exact nose, brown eyes and a friendly smile.
Pictures of my father.
Of course, I had no idea what Ethan looked like. Emma and Grandma Claudia didn’t have any pictures of him, but I knew it was my dad.
He was a strong, handsome, charismatic man. I instantly felt cheated that I never had the chance to meet him. Scattered on the table next to the pictures of Ethan were my school pictures ranging from kindergarten all the way through last year.
“Claudia sent those,” Grandma Longfellow said.
“My mom told me that Grandma Claudia sent you pictures.”
The deep lines near her mouth pulled down into a frown when I mentioned my mother. “I hadn’t the chance to thank Claudia for her kindness. I read in the newspaper that she recently passed away. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you.” I pointed to Ethan’s pictures. “That’s my father.” It wasn’t a question.
She nodded.
“May I?” I had to get a closer look.
She nodded again.
I inched over to the side table and desperately tried to memorize every detail of the pictures in front of me. His eyes were light brown, almost the color of butterscotch. Prominent laugh lines crinkled his eyes when he smiled. His teeth were white and straight. His lips were thin and always pulled into a grin.
There were no pictures of my mother on the table.
“It’s striking how much you favor him,” Grandma Longfellow said. “Unfortunately, you do have those Ross eyes.”
“So I’m told.” I returned to my seat.
“Like a feral cat. Too vivid a green to be human. Your mother doesn’t have those eyes, though.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
Peter tensed beside me. He squeezed his knees with both hands. The veins and tendons bulged under the taut skin. He didn’t take lightly to people insulting me. Especially right to my face.
Grandma Longfellow sat at the edge of her chair, inches away from the pillows. Her shoulders were pulled back and her spine was completely straight. She was the perfect example of stellar posture.
She cleared her throat. “I think you should begin. I have a lot to do today.”
Peter mumbled something about cleaning the house, but I ignored his jab. She did, too.
I figured I shouldn’t beat around the bush. Grandma Longfellow looked like a no-nonsense type of woman. “I’m trying to figure out what happened to Ethan.”
“What do you mean what happened to him? He’s buried in the Hazel Cove Cemetery.”
I took a deep breath. I had to tread lightly. She was a very old woman. “I don’t want to upset you or shock you, but he’s not buried there. At least not any more. There’s a tombstone, of course, but no body.”
“How do you know that?”
Peter glanced sideways at me.
The truth was the best bet. “Because a few weeks ago, I was kidnapped by the Gamma Omicron Delta witch hunting fraternity. They tried to kill me and throw me into Ethan’s coffin. It was a big surprise to everyone when they opened the casket and found it empty.”
Grandma Longfellow crossed her ankles.
Her face was expressionless, so I continued. “I found out Ethan was my father a few months ago.”
“Emma wished to keep you in the dark.”
“From the second I discovered that Ethan’s coffin was empty, I’ve been trying to find out what really happened to him.”
She raised her thin white eyebrows. “What’s the point?”
“I have to know.”
“You think you can figure it out after seventeen years?”
I bit my lip. “I’m going to try.”
Grandma Longfellow clenched her hands together in her lap. It was her only show of emotion. “Continue.”
“I don’t know how much you know about what happened to Ethan before he was kidnapped.”
Steel gray hawk eyes narrowed.
I leaned forward. “There was an agreement between Ethan and the leader - at the time - of the Gamma witch hunting fraternity. His name was Jonah Van Curen.”
“And how did you come across this information?”
I could feel the blood rising into my cheeks.
Honestly was the best policy.
“Gamma told me that Jonah Van Curen killed Ethan,” I said. “But Jonah died a few months before I was kidnapped. When the empty coffin was discovered, Gamma was discussing Jonah’s journal. They said if they found the journal, then they might know what happened to Ethan’s body.”
“You found this journal?”
“I did.”
“Where?”
I lowered my eyes to my lap. “I broke into Jonah’s sarcophagus and found it hidden in a garbage bag beneath his body.”
Peter shifted beside me.
It sounded much worse than I thought coming out of my mouth. I was a grave robber. A grave robber!
Grandma Longfellow didn’t seem disturbed by this revelation. “The natural place to look for a missing journal is in someone’s coffin?”
“No,” I said defensively. “I told you I’d been searching for the journal for weeks. The trail eventually led me to Jonah’s church in Boston. To his crypt. So I broke in.”
The corners of her mouth twisted up into what could only be characterized as a smile. It looked odd on her face. Her hawk eyes softened to the color of a dull cloud. “You’re just like Ethan. Stubborn and thick headed to the bone. I do commend your efforts, though.”
“Thank you.”
She nodded. Her face slipped back into that stern mask. “What is it that you want from me?”
“Your account of what happened. Ethan was supposed to leave town in exchange for my safety for eighteen years. That was the agreement. His kidnapping was a charade. But what happened after that? Emma said the police found his body in the woods a few weeks after Ethan went missing. How did he die? Did he say anything strange the last time you saw him? I want you to tell me everything you know. Please?”
“You said Gamma attacked you.”
“They did.”
“But you’re seventeen.”
“I am.”
“And yet here you sit,” Grandma Longfellow said. “From my experience with Gamma, that isn’t the norm. You must be very powerful.”
I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood. “You’ve dealt with Gamma before?”
“The Gamma Omicron Delta fraternity has killed every member of my immediate family. My husband, my daughter….”
I remembered the newspaper article Peter and I found at the Hazel Cove Library regarding Ethan’s disappearance. Actually, ‘remembered’ wasn’t the right word - I memorized every line written in that article.
It was the only piece of concrete information I had about my father and his family. My only window into my family’s mysterious past. The article was about my father’s disappearance, but a few paragraphs touched on the Longfellow family tragedies:
Ethan is the only son of Isaac and Nancy Longfellow. The family has deep roots in Hazel Cove, dating as far back as the early 1650’s. The family, always considered reclusive, gained financial notoriety in the early 1940’s when they made a small fortune in the Massachusetts banking industry.
&
nbsp; This, however, is not the first time tragedy has struck the prominent family. Mathew Longfellow, grandfather of Ethan Longfellow, died in a house fire when the family’s vacation home burned down in 1978. Ethan’s father, Isaac Longfellow, committed suicide in 1985. His body was found hanging from the stairwell in the foyer of their downtown Hazel Cove mansion. Emily Longfellow, Ethan’s older sister, was killed in a violent one-car accident on Essex Street in 1989.
“I’m very sorry,” I said.
I had no idea Gamma was behind the deaths of my family members. Apparently, the fraternity had a way of making murders look like accidents.
“How did you escape?”
“Peter and a friend saved me.” I didn’t want to bring James into this already complicated exchange.
Steel gray eyes landed on Peter. “That was very brave. Is Gamma destroyed?”
“No,” I said. “The leader was killed, but there are others.”
“Are they after you?”
I hesitated. I didn’t know how to answer that question. My life was complicated. I wasn’t in any immediate danger, but, of course they were still after me. “At the moment, no.”
Was that why Grandma Longfellow was so reclusive? Was she in hiding? Why would she want to involve herself in all of my troubles? I was a danger magnet. Was that the reason for the multiple deadbolts on the front door? Was she still afraid of Gamma after all of these years?
She brushed off a piece of lint from her long blue skirt. “You want to know everything I know about the night before Ethan disappeared? Is that correct?”
I leaned forward. She was going to help us. “I do. Please. Anything you can tell me will help. I’ll find out what happened to his body, I swear. I promise I won’t give up. I’ll find him for all of us.”
Grandma Longfellow smiled, but didn’t show any teeth. “Gamma attacked and you’re not eighteen yet.”
“Yes.”
She stared at me for a full two minutes without saying a word. I know this because the pendulum clock was directly behind her chair. The iron hand made two full rotations around the antique face.
Was she changing her mind? Was she worried about bringing the wrath of Gamma down upon her?
I placed my hands in my lap and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. I wanted her to trust me with whatever bit of information she possessed.
“I knew about Ethan’s agreement with Gamma.” She gazed at the floorboards in front of my feet. “He told me everything. He kept me apprised of his secret meetings with the leader of Gamma. But, of course, it didn’t go as planned.”
“They double crossed him.”
Grandma Longfellow shrugged. “I tried to convince him not to trust Gamma in the first place. But he knew - and I knew - that the chances of keeping you alive were slim without some type of agreement or truce. So he made the deal to protect you.”
Unlike Emma, there was no accusatory tone in Grandma Longfellow’s voice. Only an intense hatred for the witch hunting fraternity.
“Ethan made the deal. He went to see Emma one last time and then came to tell me goodbye. It was late in the night when he came home. He walked through the front door when I was knitting.”
“What did he say?”
“Absolutely nothing. He took two steps in the room and collapsed. Falling face first.” She pointed to a gold Oriental rug underneath the coffee table. “Right on that carpet. Not in this house, of course, but that’s the same rug.”
“He died right there?”
“I couldn’t wake him, so I rushed him to the hospital in Ipswich. We have our own doctor there. I didn’t want him at the Hazel Cove Hospital.”
“Your own doctor?”
“A dear friend of the family. I wanted to keep everything under wraps because of the agreement between Gamma and Ethan. Gamma was staging a kidnap in the morning. I couldn’t let word get out that Ethan Longfellow checked into the hospital the night before his kidnapping. But at the same time, I didn’t know what was wrong with him. We went to the Ipswich Hospital under the care of Dr. Lynch. He kept things quiet and off the radar.”
“What was wrong with him?”
“To this day, I still don’t know. Ethan slipped into a coma, but it was more like a trance to me. He would occasionally mumble, but nothing he said was coherent. Then just as quickly, he would slip back into the coma. Dr. Lynch performed dozens of tests, but he couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him,” Grandma Longfellow said.
“No one knew he was in the hospital?”
“No, they were all searching for him. There was no change in your father’s health and Dr. Lynch was still trying to keep everything under wraps at the hospital.” Grandma Longfellow pulled out a handkerchief. She blew her nose loudly before continuing.
“We eventually moved him to the Ipswich Mental Hospital. Dr. Lynch could continue to monitor him, but we could also keep him out of the public eye. I knew of Ethan’s agreement with Gamma and I made sure he kept up his end of the bargain. Ethan had to disappear. So I staged his death and had him ‘buried’ at the Hazel Cove Cemetery.”
“But you identified his body.”
“No.”
“But Emma said-”
“We all went to the morgue together, but no one else went in with me. Your mother and Claudia waited in the lobby. It was an act. All of it. I walked into the back room, waited a few minutes and came back out. That’s it. The coroner was in on it.”
“And the cops?”
“A little bit of money goes a long way,” she said quietly.
My head was spinning. Gamma didn’t kill Ethan? Jonah Van Curen kept his word after all? Ethan died of some weird medical condition? I couldn’t believe it. All the lies from so many people and for so many years. And for what? Nothing.
My breathing accelerated with my frustration. “Then what?”
“Nothing.”
I pushed my hair away from my face. “What do you mean nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Where did you eventually bury Ethan’s body? Not the fake burial, but the real one.”
At least I would have a real gravesite. One that I could take Emma to for visits. A place to put flowers and Christmas wreaths.
Grandma Longfellow frowned. “Bury? Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said? Ethan’s not dead.”
My heart stopped beating. “He’s still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“I just said, didn’t I? He’s at the Ipswich Mental Hospital.”
CHAPTER 20
“Lex?”
“Alexandria?”
“Can you hear me?”
“At least you caught her before she hit the floor. Oh look, her eyelids are fluttering. Alexandria?”
I opened my eyes to Peter’s face. I started to smile, but my vision focused and spread to the wrinkled white haired lady standing next to him.
“You passed out,” Grandma Longfellow said unnecessarily.
“Did I break anything?”
The last thing I remembered was Grandma Longfellow telling me that Ethan was still alive and in the Ipswich Mental Hospital. I hoped I hadn’t broken any of her antique mirrors or lamps with one of my witchy-episodes.
“Nope,” Peter said. “Just fainted. Probably from shock.”
I sat up slowly. Peter’s hand cradled my neck and head. The cluttered living room was spinning. I closed my eyes until the motion stopped. Peter wrapped his arms protectively around my shoulders.
I opened my eyes. Grandma Longfellow was in her chair.
I sucked in a gulp of stale air. “Ethan was alive all this time and you didn’t tell anyone? Not even Emma or Grandma Claudia?”
“I had to uphold Ethan’s agreement. He was to disappear. I made it so. I couldn’t risk it. Too much was at stake.”
“But why tell me now? Why tell anyone after all of these years?”
“Gamma attacked you. They broke the agreement. You were not to be touched. Yo
u were to be evaluated on your eighteenth birthday to determine how dangerous you were. Gamma broke the agreement, so I decided to tell you about your father. And, frankly, you seem so persistent that you probably would’ve figured it all out on your own, anyway. I admire your determination.”
“Thank you. Can I…?”
She raised her eyebrows.
I cleared my throat. “Can I see him? Can Peter and I visit him?”
“You may. But word can’t get out that he’s alive. I’d have a huge problem on my hands if that were the case. Reporters would be all over my front lawn.”
“I understand.”
“He’s listed under the name ‘Ethan Long.’ I visit him most days. He hasn’t made any progress.” Grandma Longfellow’s eyes filled with moisture. “He lays there. Gazing at the ceiling.”
“That’s why you moved to Ipswich. To be near him.”
“He’s all I’ve had for the past seventeen years.”
* * *
“Thanks for driving. I couldn’t concentrate on the road if my life depended on it.” I settled deeper into the passenger seat.
Ethan was alive! I felt numb all over and not entirely due to the cold.
“No problem, Lex, that’s what I’m here for. Your Grandma Longfellow is an interesting character,” Peter said.
“I wonder if she’s always been like that or just since Ethan’s been sick. You have to admit, she’s been through a lot. Her husband and daughter were killed by Gamma. And then Ethan falls into a coma. It’s crazy.”
Peter turned down the heat. “I wonder why Gamma killed them. They were all half-blooded. Were they practicing in the open? Isn’t that what William Van Curen said? Gamma only hunts the witches that bring attention to themselves?”
“I have no idea.”
“Wow.”
“What?” I glanced nervously at Peter. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Check that out.” Peter pointed. “If that doesn’t look like the quintessential mental hospital, then I don’t know what does.”
The voluminous two-storied building sat an acre away from the street. Rolling snow covered hills surrounded the red-brick structure. A ten foot high fence, with razor wire on top, enclosed the property.