Rain Of Stone (The Merryweather Chronicles Book 1)

by Lesley Woodral

  “What would you do, Albert?”

  “I would tell Claire the whole truth. I would lay everything on the table for her and let her decide if it was too dangerous for her to be your friend.” Albert said, meeting Brandon’s gaze. “It’s really her choice, as well. Don’t you think?”

  “You’re a smart kid. You know that, Albert?” Brandon said. He watched Claire and her father disappear around a street corner, picturing himself telling Claire the truth. The whole truth. She would think he was crazy. No way would she believe him, not when he hardly believed it himself. Looking at Albert, he voiced that terrifying thought aloud. “I just hope she wont think I’m crazy.”

  Albert shrugged. He said. “I don’t know about that, but I do know that if you want to talk to Claire tonight, you’ll have to do it at the old mill, wherever that is.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brandon said, looking sharply at Albert.

  Albert almost stepped back at the heat in Brandon’s gaze. He stammered. “She’s going to some party out there, tonight. With her friends.”

  “But it’s dangerous out there.” Brandon said, he looked over at the front of the school and noticed, for the first time, the big bulletin board that hung beside the front entrance. Usually, it was posted with flyers for ball games and town events. Or with notices for cars and bicycles for sale. But, now, the biggest part of the board was covered with missing children flyers. Kids from Matheson. There were 4 of them, so far. One of the kids, a freshman named Tina Myers, had been in Brandon’s art class. He remembered her as quiet and pretty. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she might have been one of Claire’s friends.

  She went missing on the day he met Nina. Albert saw what Brandon was looking at and said, his voice hushed. “Crazy, huh? My dad says that there will probably be a curfew soon, if more kids turn up missing.”

  “I have to stop that party.” Brandon looked at Albert. “Who did you hear tell Claire about it?”

  Chapter 36

  Emily Nelson lived in a two story white house, only a few blocks from where Claire lived. Brandon didn’t ask Albert how he knew where Emily lived, he didn’t think he wanted to know. Albert waited at the corner while Brandon walked up to Emily’s front door and rang the bell.

  When the front door opened, Brandon forgot what he was going to say. The woman that opened the door was dressed in a fluffy pink bath towel that was wound tight around her body. Another pink towel was wrapped around her hair. She wore nothing else. She was dripping wet where the towel didn’t cover her, which was just about everywhere.

  “Oh.” Was the only thing that Brandon could think to say.

  The woman, who must have been Emily’s mom, looked at him and smiled. Brandon felt like the canary meeting the cat. She said, her tone almost too casual. “Well, hello. I suppose you’re looking for Emily?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Brandon said, doing very well to keep his eyes on the woman’s forehead. He didn’t trust himself to look into the lady’s eyes any more than he trusted himself not to look at the wet legs disappearing up into her towel. She had a very nice figure for a woman in her late thirties or early forties. “Could you tell her that Brandon Merryweather is here?”

  “Merryweather?” The woman’s eyes lit up. She gave Brandon an evaluating look, from head to toe. “Hmm. They certainly grow them tall at Highgarden, don’t they?”

  Brandon tried hard to keep the blush from rising in his cheeks and thought he was linesuccessful. But the woman smiled at him and the tip of her pink little tongue touched her upper lip. She said. “I’ll go get Emily. Come in and have a seat.”

  Brandon stepped inside, looking out to the street to see Albert grinning at him and giving a thumbs up sign. As the door closed behind him, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was entering the proverbial lion’s den. Or spider’s parlor. Brandon didn’t think that the fact that he was only 16 would help him much if Emily’s mom decided to try and get her claws into him.

  Emily’s mom led him into the living room, her rear end wagging in the towel suggestively, and gestured at a plush looking sofa. “Sit down, Brandon. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go fetch Emily.” She winked at him and left, being careful to tug her towel tighter around her breasts as she turned to leave. Brandon could see the gleaming crescents of her buttocks as she exited the living room, hanging just below the edge of her towel. He shuddered. But somewhere inside of his skull, he could hear Rok, humming pleasantly to himself. Obviously enjoying the view. It was reassuring to know that the God was still with him, even if he refused to talk.

  It was only a few minutes before he heard Emily coming. She was yelling at her mom. “Jesus Christ, Eileen. You are such a slut.” Her mom, Eileen, was shouting something back at her from somewhere further in the house, but Brandon couldn’t make it out. Emily shouted. “Just shut up, Eileen. Or I’ll tell dad about what you were doing to the pool boy the other afternoon, when I came home from school early.”

  Eileen was silent after that.

  Emily was fully dressed when she came into the living room, making Brandon breath a sigh of relief. She gave him an odd look as she saw him and stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms under her breasts. “I didn’t realize I told you where I lived, Mr. Merryweather?”

  Brandon stood up and said. “I know, and I’m sorry, but I had to talk to you.”

  “About Claire?” Emily said, cocking her head at him. She was an attractive girl, dark haired and dark eyed, with a terrific figure. Much better than her mother’s.

  “About the party at the mill.” Brandon said. “It has to be canceled.”

  “What are you talking about?” Emily said, eyeing him dubiously. “Is this some way for you to keep her from going?”

  “No.”

  “Because, if it is, I can save you a lot of trouble.” Emily smiled and laughed at him. “Claire is stupid for you, Brandon. All you have to do is call her and she’ll come running.”

  “This isn’t about Claire. It’s about you.” Brandon said, trying to make Emily understand. “You and everybody who might show up at that party.”

  “Claire didn’t tell me that you were crazy.” She said, in a tone that was more playful than serious.

  Brandon looked down, trying to think of how to phrase what he was going to say. When he looked up, Emily was watching him with an arched eyebrow. He said. “Did you know Tina Myers?”

  Emily blinked and said. “What?” She shook her head. “Tina’s only been gone a couple of days. She’s always going off on her own, getting into trouble, and she always comes back. Her parents are just overreacting.” She sounded as if she only half believed what was coming out of her own mouth.

  “There’s something going on in Matheson.” Brandon said. “Tina isn’t the only kid that’s gone missing. Going out to the old mill isn’t a good idea. It could be dangerous.”

  Emily shook her head. “You’re something else, Brandon. Here I was, thinking that you wanted me to help you get Claire back, and you’re worried that I’m going to go out and get myself kid-napped.”

  “I’m just worried that something bad will happen out at the mill.” Brandon said, running a hand through his hair. “You some kind of hero?” Emily said. She took a step toward him, smiling. “That’s very sweet, Brandon.”

  “You can call me Bran, if you want?” Brandon said. He sighed. “Will you cancel the party?” Emily sighed. “I can’t.” When she saw the look on Brandon’s face, the disappointment, she hurried to say. “It’s not my party, Bran. I’m not even sure who’s throwing it. All I know is that it’s some seniors and some older college kids putting the thing together.”

  Brandon shook his head. He said. “Then I don’t know what to do.”

  Emily said. “You can’t save everyone, Bran.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. She smiled. “I can see what Claire loves about you.”

  Brandon looked at her. “Will you at least stay away from the mill tonight, yourself? It could be really dangerous out
there. You and Claire can stay in tonight? Watch a movie, or something?”

  Emily sighed. “Sure. I’ll talk to Claire. We’ll just hang out and watch a movie. Or something. But what are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure.” Brandon said, shrugging. “I have to try and stop that party somehow.”

  He headed for the front door with Emily following. As he opened the door, Emily stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about my step mom. She can be so trashy sometimes.”

  “That’s okay.” Brandon said. “I’m just glad you were home. I’m sorry about sneaking up on you this way. I didn’t mean to look like a stalker.”

  “No problem.” Emily smiled. “How did you find out where I lived, anyway?”

  “Albert showed me.” Brandon said, turning and pointing at where he left Albert. But the boy was gone. Brandon frowned and looked at Emily. “I guess he got tired of waiting?”

  Emily arched an eyebrow and smiled. “I’ll have to watch out for him, I guess. I’ll talk to Claire.”

  Brandon nodded. He said. “Promise me that the two of you wont go to that party tonight, Emily. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you tonight and I could have stopped it.”

  “I promise.” Emily said. “The two of us wont go to that party. But you have to promise me something in return, Bran.”

  “Anything.”

  “Promise me that you’ll talk to Claire tonight.” She said, looking at him with hard eyes. “She really loves you, Bran, and I can’t stand to see her hurting the way she is.”

  Brandon looked at Emily for a long time before nodding and saying. “I will. I promise.”

  Emily smiled and closed the door.

  Chapter 37

  Walking out to the street, Brandon thought about what Emily said while looking around for Albert. He would talk to Claire tonight. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would say or even how to say it, but he would try to make her believe him. He loved her too much to let it end the way it had.

  But he still didn’t know what to do about the party. He thought about calling the police, letting them know about the party, but he knew that wouldn’t stop it from happening. They would just move it somewhere else and he would be in worse shape because he wouldn’t know where they moved it to.

  Albert was long gone, nowhere to be seen in either direction, so Brandon decided to go on over to Claire’s house. As he walked, he tried to rehearse what he would say to her inside his head.

  Rok spoke up, breaking his stony silence. “Eileen seemed like a nice woman.” He said, inside of Brandon’s head. “It’s a shame the daughter was home. You might have had a shot at her?”

  Brandon just shook his head.

  Rok laughed. He said. “So far, I’m unimpressed by your adventures, Storm King. I’m ready for some action. Let’s go out to the woods and hunt grohlm.”

  “You’ll get your chance.” Brandon thought, smiling grimly. “Maybe you’ll actually be of some use, this time around?”

  Rok laughed and was silent.

  Claire’s house was a big Tudor, with a long porch that wrapped around the front of the house, going all the way to the back yard. There was a swing on each side of the house. Potted plants hung from decorative iron hooks spaced at intervals along the porch. A wrought iron fence wrapped around the property line, vines climbing up to the pointed tips at the fence’s top. The smell of jasmine and honeysuckle was strong on Claire’s street, but especially around her house, where thick vines of the stuff climbed up the red brick facade.

  Claire was sitting in one of the porch swings, when Brandon opened the front gate and strolled up the walk. She was dressed in the same yellow sun-dress that she wore on the day in the graveyard. She wasn’t wearing her eye patch. She looked beautiful.

  She didn’t smile as Brandon came up the porch steps and stopped, watching her with a sad smile. “Hi.” His voice sounded shockingly young to his own ears.

  She didn’t say anything. The skin where her eye should have been was the same shade as the tender skin of her throat. Her single green eye watched him as he stepped closer. He didn’t sit. He wasn’t sure if he should. He said. “I thought we should talk.”

  Claire looked away and said. “Emily called. I’m not going to the party, so you should be happy.”

  “I’m not happy.” Brandon said. He moved forward, dropping to his knees in front of her. The tense expression on Claire’s face when he did this cut him to the bone. He said. “I can’t be happy, if I don’t have you.”

  “Whose fault is that, Bran?” She looked at him. Her eye was wet with unshed tears. “I just want to understand you. But you pushed me away.”

  “I’m sorry.” Brandon said. “There are so many things about me that you don’t know about. Things that might change the way you feel about me.”

  “So you would rather have me hate you than give me the chance to prove that my feelings aren’t that shallow?” Claire shook her head. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

  “Me either.” Brandon said. He reached out and took her hand. Her fingers wrapped tightly around his. “I love you, Claire. And I can’t give that up, even if it means that I might die.”

  “Why do you think that loving me will kill you?” Claire said. She pulled him to his feet and made him sit beside her. “That’s crazy.”

  Brandon nodded. “It is crazy. But it’s the truth.” He took her other hand and held both of them in his. He said. “I’m cursed, Claire. I was cursed before I was born. Everybody I love dies. You’re in danger just being around me. Real danger.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” Claire said, shaking her head. “What about your uncle?”

  “He was my father’s best friend.” Brandon said. “They weren’t really brothers. This is a curse that only affects those connected to the Merryweathers by blood.”

  Claire was quiet for a moment. She brought his hand up and kissed his fingers, then said. “That’s what you think happened to your parents, isn’t it? You think that this curse killed them?”

  “I know it did.” Brandon said, looking away. Looking at the trees that surrounded Claire’s house. At the hanging honeysuckle vines. At the shadows that seemed to be everywhere. Anything could be hiding there. “I know it sounds crazy, but the curse is real.”

  Claire blinked at him. “And what if I don‘t care if I‘m in danger when I‘m with you, Bran? I don‘t believe in curses or bad luck or any of that crap. I believe in what I can see and what I can touch and hold.” As if to prove her words, she squeezed his hand almost painfully.

  Brandon shook his head, his eyes sad and defeated. “I wish it was that easy.” He looked down at her hands in his, at the way they seemed to be made to fit together, and he said. “But it‘s not. The curse is real. It killed my aunts and my uncles. And it killed my parents. Not believing in it wont make it any less deadly.” “Jesus, Bran, you talk like it’s a man that is doing all of this?” Claire said, letting go of his hands and standing. Turning to face him, she peered hard at his face. “Is that what you really believe? Because that’s crazy!”

  “I never said that it was a man.” Brandon said, his anger uncoiling inside his chest. Meeting her eye, he tried to keep the anger from his tone and only half succeeded. This wasn’t how he pictured this talk going. He didn’t come here to yell at Claire. He just needed her to understand. “There are other things that you have to know about me if you want to understand what is hunting me.”

  “I want to understand. I want to know everything about you, Bran. But the things you‘re saying just can‘t be real.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I love you, Bran, and I want to help you.”

  “Because I’m crazy.” He hated how cold his voice sounded.

  “Please, Bran.” Her voice broke. She was crying now, definitely not a part of his plan. “Maybe if you talked to my dad?”

  “And what?” He jumped to his feet, startling her with his explosive speed. She’d never seen anybody move so
fast. His face was close to hers now and she could feel his breath on her lips. Oh, how she wanted to kiss him. To pull him close and tell him that she believed him. That she believed in the curse, that terrible thing that he thought was trying to destroy all that he cared for.

  But she wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t lie to him, not even to keep her own heart from breaking. And now, with his eyes drilling into her own, she felt the first stirring of her own anger. How could he come to her like this, after what he’d already put her through, and be so angry that she wouldn’t share his delusions? Vaguely, her mind tried to conjure up the incident at the old graveyard, the skeleton bursting from the stony ground, but she squashed the image ruthlessly. That couldn’t have happened like she remembered. It just wasn’t possible. He needed help, damn it! Real help, from a doctor or even a psychiatrist. Help that her dad could find for him. He wouldn’t get that help if she let herself get pulled into his confusion. “My dad can help you, Bran. He really can, just talk to him. Please!”

  “What’s he going to do, Claire?” Brandon said. The anger was gone, replaced with a grim acceptance. She didn’t believe him. She loved him, but there was nothing he could say or do to convince her that what he was saying was anything but a fairy tale. Or worse. The ravings of a lunatic. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

  Claire had her arms crossed tightly under her breasts, her face was set in an almost identical expression of unhappiness. She looked up at his face with her beautiful and solitary green eye and said. “Don’t say that, Bran. Please, I just want to take care of you. I want to make you happy.”

  He stepped away from her, moving off of the porch, and shook his head. “If you really want to make me happy, you’ll promise that you wont go to that party tonight.”

  It was too much. She looked at him a long time, torn between soul tearing love and complete exasperation. “Goodbye, Bran.” Then she was gone, going inside and closing the door behind her.