King 03 - Restless

by Kandle, Tawdra

  Hey. It’s me. I guess you figured that out. It’s another weekend, which means I’m holed up, studying. Cathryn wants to come by tonight, but I’m not sure I want that. It’s not that I mind talking to her about you. It’s just that when she leaves, I’m alone and missing you even more. I love you, Tas. Call me.

  Even after Rafe went home late that night, I felt as though we had left things unsettled. He had carefully avoided any more serious talk, asking me instead about my session with Marica. He grinned along with me when I described the water dancing.

  And although he kept his arm firmly around my shoulders and toyed with my hair now and then, he seemed more interested in conversation than in kissing.

  Just as he was getting ready to leave, he turned back around. I could feel his hesitation before he spoke.

  “My grandmother wanted me to ask you to come over tomorrow. She said she’d like to talk with you about King… and some other stuff.”

  I tilted my head as I looked up at Rafe. “Really? I thought your grandmother knew everything. Did she want me coming over when you and I weren’t talking?”

  Rafe’s mouth curled into that familiar half-smile. “I guess she does know everything, because she told me to invite you as I was walking out the door tonight. Good thing she’s not a mind-reader, because she would have heard some stuff that wasn’t very nice as my answer.”

  I smiled. “Well, I’d really like to come over, if that’s okay with you. I like your grandmother, even if she does make me kind of nervous.”

  So shortly after noon the next day, I pulled up the long Brooks driveway, with only a slight edge of nerves. My parents hadn’t said too much about my plans for the day, although my mother brightened somewhat when I explained that I was trying to learn more about the history of our adopted hometown.

  “Mrs. Brooks’ family has been in King forever,” I told her. “I think she’ll have some really cool stories.”

  “Sounds good,” my mom agreed. “But try to keep away from the less—um, normal history of the town. We’ve had enough of that, I think.”

  I quelled a nervous laugh and nodded, hoping I looked convincing.

  The door opened before I had climbed the steps to the porch, and Rafe stood leaning against the jam.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted me. “Ready for your grilling?”

  My eyes widened, startled. “What do you mean? I thought this was just a talk about King.”

  Rafe laughed and pulled me inside. “I’m just teasing you. I guess my blocking really does work, huh? You couldn’t hear what I was thinking?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t hear you all the time, Rafe. It seems like it’s only when you really want me to hear, or if you don’t know I’m around.”

  Rafe looked down at me, his face unreadable. He was still holding my hand, and after a moment, he used it to tug me even closer.

  “I think I block you because… if you knew what I was thinking all the time, it wouldn’t be so good for me. You’d have too much leverage. Plus, you might not like all the stuff I think.” He touched his lips lightly to mine and then released me as we both heard his grandmother’s steps.

  “Tasmyn! I’m so glad you could join us today. Please, let’s come in here.” She indicated the doors to the sitting room. I was surprised, as I had expected we would eat in the dining room.

  “It’s such a pretty day, I hope you don’t mind that I had the table set on the terrace,” she went on, as though answering my unspoken words.

  Rafe and I trailed her out to the slate tiled patio. A small table was covered with a flowered cloth and exquisitely delicate china and crystal. Just like my previous visit, I felt underdressed.

  “I know it’s terribly silly and old-fashioned of me, but I do like to have a rather formal lunch,” Caroline Brooks explained. “We have some lovely family china, and it’s such a shame for it to sit unused, don’t you think?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer, so I merely nodded and smiled as I took the seat that Rafe had pulled out for me. Carefully I laid the thick damask napkin over my denim skirt.

  Rafe reached into the small silver basket in the center of the table and pulled out a flaky white roll. I watched as he buttered a piece to pop into his mouth. It struck me that for an eighteen year-old boy, Rafe really had impeccable manners. I assumed that this courtesy was learned from his grandparents.

  Apparently his grandmother wasn’t finished with the lessons. “Rafe!” she reproved him. “Offer Tasmyn a roll, please. What will she think of you?”

  Rafe smirked slightly and quirked an eyebrow at me as he answered his grandmother. “I really doubt that’s what’s going to push Tasmyn away from me, Gram. I have plenty of other bad habits she doesn’t like.”

  I kept the smile on my face as I ignored him. “Thank you so much for inviting me over today, Mrs. Brooks. I really am interested in learning more about King.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Tasmyn. And please excuse my grandson. He knows better, but he’s very comfortable around you.” She shot the tiniest of smiles toward Rafe.

  “I’m used to him by now,” I assured her. “Not much surprises me about Rafe.”

  Caroline laughed, a rich and silvery sound that warmed me. “Oh, Tasmyn, my dear, you are very good for him. You don’t let him get away with anything. Rafe needs that.”

  Rafe feigned a grumpy scowl and rolled his eyes. “Do you have to talk about me like I’m not sitting here? And I thought this was supposed to be about history, not about picking on me.”

  Caroline shook her head. “We’re not picking on you, darling. We love you.” She patted his hand as I dropped my eyes, unwilling to meet Rafe’s questioning gaze.

  “How long has your family lived here, Mrs. Brooks?” I asked, anxious to change the subject.

  She sat back in her chair, her eyes softening as she looked over my head, thinking. “Well, my great great-grandparents were part of Gravis King’s carnival. They came here in 1865, the same year my great-grandmother was born. She was actually the first baby born in town.”

  “Really?” I was impressed. So her family truly did stretch back to the very beginnings of King.

  “Yes, indeed. Her name was Leonora, and if you go to the old cemetery just beyond the Lake Rosu woods, you’ll see her memorial. She lived to be a hundred, so of course I remember her well. She was quite the story teller.”

  “You knew your great-grandmother? That’s incredible,” I remarked.

  “She had wonderful tales about Gravis King and all the original carnies. Did you know that the King Carnival was one of the oldest in the nation, perhaps the oldest? It’s hard to be sure, as records weren’t kept about these things, but it was old Gravis’s claim, anyway.”

  I heard a sound at the doorway. Lucie was wheeling a trolley carefully over the threshold. She smiled a greeting to me, and then quickly and silently placed several plates of sandwiches and salads on the table. Caroline thanked her, and Lucie slipped back through the doors.

  “Mrs. Brooks…” I hesitated, unsure about how to ask a delicate question. “I’ve heard that the carnies… well, that they were an unusual bunch.”

  “Oh, they were. Gravis didn’t hire con artists and freaks, you know. He was a very learned man with an Ivy League education. He had a passion for antiquities. As Grandmother Leonora told the story, Gravis was rather the black sheep of his wealthy New England family, and like the prodigal son in the Bible, he took his inheritance and left home after college.

  “But unlike that first runaway son, Gravis flourished. He traveled through Europe—these were the days between wars, you know, when it was possible to do so with relative ease. Most all the young men made their European tour after college. But Gravis didn’t stick to the museums and high-class house parties. He sought out the real power in each country: men who could levitate, women who could read minds.” Caroline smiled at me knowingly. “He saved more than one poor soul who was about to be burned at the stake or executed in some other horrible m
anner.”

  At my raised brows, Caroline nodded. “Yes, I know. You’re thinking that I’m exaggerating, that the world was too civilized in those days for such happenings. But remember that Gravis was deep in the countryside, where life really hadn’t changed that much in two or three centuries. I think you’d be surprised to learn how little some of these places have changed even now.”

  “Did he—Mr. King, I mean—do you know if he went to… Romania at any point?” I posed the question casually, but the tone of my voice gave away my interest.

  “Of course. Romania was a very important stop for Gravis. It was there that he found his witch.”

  My mouth dropped open as a sense of recognition flowed over me. I knew this had to be the case, but hearing it confirmed gave me goose bumps.

  “Was that Nell’s family?” I couldn’t hide the intensity in my voice this time.

  “Yes, Nell is a descendant of Sarah, whom Gravis brought over from Romania. Grandmother Leonora could be very outspoken on the subject of Sarah Brador, but she wouldn’t let us speak against the family. She told me that it was too dangerous for any of us to cross Sarah.”

  “Sarah Brador?” I repeated. “That doesn’t sound very Romanian.”

  “No, it was an adaptation. I believe her real name had deep meaning in her native language. And according to my great grandmother, her last name was a mispronunciation of the Romanian word for witch.”

  “Vrajitoare,” I said softly. I had heard it in Marica’s head now and then when she wasn’t blocking me, so my accent was almost perfect.

  “Yes, that’s it.” Caroline cocked her head at me questioningly. When I was silent, she merely smiled and turned toward her grandson.

  “Rafe, dear, would you please go upstairs to my room and bring down the photographs of Leonora?”

  Rafe frowned, and I knew he didn’t want to leave Caroline and me alone together. I couldn’t tell whether he was worried about me or afraid he was going to miss something.

  “Can’t Lucie…” he began, but Caroline shook her head.

  “No, Rafe. They’re on the table in my sitting room. Go ahead now.”

  She waited until he had stomped scowling out of the room. “I wanted a private word with you, Tasmyn. I hope you don’t mind. I’m concerned about Rafe.”

  “Rafe?” My tone was bewildered. “Is there something wrong with him?”

  Caroline laughed quietly. “Not at all. But I’m not sure that you understand the depth of his devotion to you, and how unusual this is for him. Has Rafe shared anything with you about his parents?”

  I nodded. “He told me that his gift came through his father, and that he had died. He also said his mother remarried—and I got the sense that her new husband isn’t very tolerant of Rafe’s—er, talents.”

  “That’s true. Rafe was very close to his father, and he was devastated when he died. And he became a bit withdrawn. In California, he had cut off his old friends. His mother’s motives in sending him to us were certainly partly selfish, at least from Rafe’s point of view, but she also hoped that the change would help him.

  “So we were all very pleased when he spoke about you right away, and then of course, we like Amber, too. I knew he had deep feelings for you almost immediately, and I did worry about that, since he also said that you were already in a relationship. We met Cara a few times last fall, and I hoped… well, that ended unfortunately, of course.”

  That was one way to put it, I thought wryly.

  “But since you two have become… closer, I’ve seen an amazing difference in Rafe. I wanted to thank you, and to tell you that both Rafe and I are quite worried about the time you spend with Ms. Lacusta. I know that my grandson can seem a little overprotective and pushy, but it really is because he cares for you, more than perhaps you know.”

  I didn’t know how to answer that. I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t honestly say anything that would reassure Mrs. Brooks. Finally, I just nodded again.

  Rafe appeared in the doorway holding several framed photos, which he laid carefully in the table between his grandmother and me. They were all in black and white.

  “Ah, thank you, Rafe. Here you are, Tasmyn. This is my great-grandmother Leonora, holding me.” I took the picture she proffered and examined it closely. Leonora must have been in her mid-seventies, but she was still quite beautiful. Her hair was very light, and her mouth was curved into a broad smile as she held baby Caroline.

  “And here she is with me at my wedding. She died the next year.” In this photo, Caroline was a beaming bride. The woman next to her had aged slightly, but she still stood erect and gazed directly into the camera.

  “I thought you might like to see this one as well. It’s Gravis King, holding Leonora the year she was born, the same year King was founded. I believe it was taken in the home Gravis had just built.”

  The background of this picture was a room of dark polished wood. Gravis, a well-built man who appeared to be perhaps in his early forties, sat in a large wing chair holding a baby dressed in a long white gown. I was surprised to see compassion and warmth in his face. Somehow when I had pictured the founding father of King, Florida, I had imagined someone who looked more devious and dark.

  “Thank you for sharing these with me, Mrs. Brooks,” I said, handing the last one back to Caroline. “It’s pretty amazing to see these people I’ve only heard about.” I bit my lip, pausing a moment before I plunged ahead.

  “You don’t have any of Sarah, do you? After meeting Nell, I’d really like to see what her however many greats-grandmother looked like.”

  “No. Sarah was a very private person, and there are few photographs of her. I’m sure the family has one or two, and there’s one in the town archives.”

  “I wondered if she might look like Nell… or even maybe like Marica. If they’re both from Romania, is it possible that they’re related?”

  “As you have probably surmised, Tasmyn, there are very few coincidences in this world. When Marica Lacusta chose to come to King, I don’t believe it was a whim. I think she had probably heard the stories of her relative, who had been whisked away from almost certain death at the hands of an angry and frightened mob.”

  “Do you know Marica?” I couldn’t imagine my teacher and mentor visiting Caroline Brooks for tea and cookies.

  This time it was Caroline who hesitated. “No, I haven’t met her,” she said finally. “I did know when she came to town that she wasn’t here… casually. But none of us knew exactly what she was planning.”

  Now my curiosity was raging. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound nosy. But what do you mean ‘none of us’? Do you mean your family?”

  Caroline was quiet for so long that I had almost decided that she was choosing not to answer me. At last she sighed.

  “There is so much I could tell you, Tasmyn and so difficult to be sure of what you need to know. It’s not my place to tell you what is right and what is wrong. I know that Rafe here worries about your relationship with Marica Lacusta. And I don’t believe that those fears are unfounded. Rafe has some of my own abilities, you know. He can sense powers and even intent sometimes.”

  I felt that churning of worry return to my stomach. As it so often happened, when I was away from Marica, I felt uneasy about her plans for me, and I questioned everything. But I also knew that the minute I was with her again, all those fears and uncertainties would melt away in the face of the power.

  “Mrs. Brooks, do you think I’m in danger from Marica?” I had to ask the question, even if I didn’t like the answer.

  Caroline leaned across the table and took my hand in hers. She fastened me with those familiarly vibrant blue eyes.

  “Rafe isn’t going to like this,” she said quietly. “Tasmyn, I don’t know. I can’t see the future as some can, nor can I hear thoughts. From what Rafe tells me, Marica isn’t always completely honest with you. But at the same time—” She cast a quick, apologetic look at Rafe. “At the same time, I can understand the f
ascination you feel with what she’s teaching you. For so long, you’ve denied your own abilities. To have this outlet and this opportunity must be amazing.”

  She closed her eyes, but I sensed that she wasn’t fatigued. Curiously I watched her, and then I heard her quite clearly.

  But beware, please, Tasmyn. I can only guess what her purpose is. She disturbs me. She is not one of us. Be so very careful.

  Caroline’s eyes opened and met mine. I knew that those last words were for me only. She didn’t want to worry Rafe any more than he already was.

  But the warning was clear to me, and the heaviness remained with me for the rest of the day.

  Hi, Tas. Do you remember our last beach day? When we found the sand dollar in two pieces? I wanted to tell you then that I felt like that half a shell, alone in the ocean, until I met you. And when I found you, I knew I’d found my other half, that we fit together as perfectly as those two shells. I didn’t say all that last summer because I thought we had all the time in the world. I love you, Tasmyn. Call me.

  My extremely abnormal life fell into some sort of routine over the next few weeks. I got up in the mornings and put on a happy face to mollify my parents. I went to school and pretended to be normal so that Amber could relax. I tutored my freshmen and sophomores twice a week during my free period.

  I found a rhythm of sorts with Rafe, as well. I worked hard to be kinder to him; it helped that he eased up on the more extreme public displays of affection. He held my hand now and then, and at lunch, he sat close enough to me that I could feel his body heat. But he respected what I needed, at least while we were in front of people at school.

  Our relationship outside of school was still complicated. Rafe came over to my house on some weekend evenings, but it was never entirely comfortable. So more often than not we went out to the ice cream parlor or just walking downtown, or we hung out at his grandparents’ house. I was gradually learning to relax there, although I still thought wistfully of the cabin in the woods outside town, where Marly and Luke had always made me feel completely at home.