For Centuries More

by Ethan Johnson

  Lies, the voice said again.

  James snorted and closed the book. “You’re telling me,” he said aloud. Eddington Manor was certainly an earnest place, but James felt they needed a healthy dose of skepticism when curating their library. He figured they added this to the collection to seem worldly. He doubted anybody had actually read it.

  I can teach you, said the voice. James sighed. He’d had enough teaching, and guidance, and impossible tasks for a lifetime. He swiveled in his seat to shelve the useless book, but he felt drawn to a stack of scratch paper and a pencil. He plucked a sheet of paper from the stack and scratched a message onto the paper from somewhere beyond.

  James felt lightheaded as he dutifully scrawled the words, then pulled another page from the stack, then another. He wrote on the front and back, trying to utilize as much of the space as possible. When he was finished, he laid his pencil down and thumbed through the leaves of paper. He didn’t know where this material had come from, but he felt urgency radiate from the pages as he read each sentence. One in particular resonated with him:

  In days of old, the gods built the temples. Mortals were only caretakers. I, Yata, was one, when I lived.

  He turned to a blank page and wrote, When the temples fell, so did the gods.

  To his amazement, he found himself writing a reply.

  Some did. Others let them decay and built others. Such is the way of Inanna.

  James tried to ignore the sensation of his glasses sliding down his nose and continued the dialogue.

  I saw her temple fall into neglect in Nineveh. I saw the high priestess lament its fall, and the disinterest the king showed in it. If she built another temple, where is it? What became of Inanna afterward?

  After a long pause, James felt a tingle in his fingers that compelled him to scrawl a reply.

  There is one among you who has seen.

  James hastily wrote, Aubra?

  No reply came to his query. James tossed the pencil aside and stared at the page. One among you who has seen. Who? It had to be Aubra. Who else could it be? He felt queasy at the thought of patching things up with her. Nothing he did was right, he mused. Maybe it was best to put some distance between them and concentrate on their studies for a change.

  James carefully arranged the pages and stuffed them into his pocket as he rose from the table. No, he told himself, he couldn’t let it go. If the woman he’d seen in a vision was bad, and if she had done something to cause Agnes to be afflicted by strange black forms that kept her in a state of near catatonia, he needed to know where she was and how to stop her. He resolved to find a way to smooth things over with Aubra.

  If only for Agnes’s sake.

  CHAPTER 50: CONFRONTATION

  Gracie pushed her apartment door open with a huff. She didn’t wait for her sister to close it before heading directly for her bedroom and slamming the door behind her. She’d had all she could take of Jacqueline—or Fortune, as she preferred to call her—and decided if Fortune wanted to visit with Agnes, she was free to do so. Gracie hoped she’d leave instead.

  She heard the front door close and her sister’s voice through the wall calling out to Agnes. She heard Agnes’s bedroom door open—no initial knock, of course, Gracie fumed—and muffled words. She popped her ear buds in and cranked up some music. Skater punk filled her ears as she stared at her bedroom ceiling, brimming with annoyance.

  Well, today royally sucked, Gracie thought to herself. Work was terrible, coming home to find her least favorite person on the planet was worse, dinner was a hot mess, and she was through with Trixie. Annabella. Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought. She was so sure she was the one. The one who was going to make all her dreams come true. No more sneaking around. No more uptight girlfriends. Everything was going to be new, and fresh, and exciting. And it was, for 24 hours. Then everything came crashing down. She wiped a tear away as she thought through the timeline of events.

  She hadn’t broken up with Annabella yet. Well, Gracie corrected herself, she had, in that she was through with her. She’d block Annabella’s number, avoid the salon, and maybe in a week or two Annabella would get the message and move on. It wasn’t like she knew where she worked or lived. Gracie felt crappy for opting for the silent treatment, but she couldn’t bring herself to fight about it with Annabella. She wasn’t the one. There wasn’t anything to argue about. Annabella just needed to go away.

  Just then, she was jolted by her bedroom door opening. Jacqueline stood in the doorway, calling out to her. Gracie yanked out one of her earbuds and covered her eyes with her other arm. “Go away, Fortune, and would it kill you to knock first?”

  “Someone is here to see you.”

  “The front door says no solicitors. Tell them to piss off.”

  “I’m not selling anything,” said a voice over Jacqueline’s shoulder. “But I am concerned… and confused.”

  Gracie sat bolt upright in bed, tossing her phone and earbuds aside. “Trixie? What? How? Why? Huh?”

  Annabella brushed past Jacqueline and stood at the foot of Gracie’s bed. “Can we talk?”

  Gracie felt her ears burn as she nodded gravely. “I guess.”

  Jacqueline returned to Agnes’s room and Annabella closed the door behind her. She looked around the room and sighed. “There’s no place to sit.”

  “You could sit there, I guess.” Gracie pointed to the foot of the bed. Annabella declined, causing Gracie’s stomach to bottom out. The silent treatment wasn’t in the cards after all. She hoped the dregs of the wine she’d had with dinner would be enough liquid courage to get her through the next ten or so minutes.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Just listening to tunes.”

  “I don’t get you, Lauren. I thought we had something real. We had a marvelous time together last night, an even better morning, and now it gets back to me that you’re right back out there, getting mixed up with some glossy redhead. And then I come here, and she answers the door, Lauren, like this isn’t a new thing. Like you’re playing me off her, seeing who is better. I’ll make this easy for both of us: you can have her. She’s obviously first, so don’t let me ruin anything. I’m sorry to come here like this, but you weren’t answering your phone or any of my texts. I had to see it for myself, and I’m sorry I did. But also glad, because now I see who you really are, and who you really care about.”

  Gracie stammered as Annabella threw open the door and bumped into Jacqueline in the hall. Annabella stiffened and said, “I hope you two have a long, happy life together. Goodbye to both of you.”

  Jacqueline looked perplexed. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

  “I’ll see myself out. Goodbye,” Annabella replied.

  Gracie hurried from her room and pressed her hand against the front door as Annabella began to open it. “Annabella, wait. You’ve got everything all wrong. And I do too. Let me explain.”

  “I have nothing further to say to you,” Annabella said coldly.

  Gracie ushered her to the sofa. “Then just sit and listen. First off, that glossy redhead is my stupid sister, who I hate with a friggin’ passion.” Jacqueline gasped at this and took a step forward, sputtering a rebuttal. Gracie raised a shushing hand and continued. “She made me have dinner with her. She picked the restaurant. She paid, thank God, so there’s that. I’m not sure what got back to you and why, but I’m not going to be accused of doing my sister. Either of them.”

  Jacqueline’s jaw dropped again. “Excuse me? Why on Earth would you accuse her of… that?” She frowned in disgust, earning annoyed glares from Gracie and Annabella in return.

  Gracie continued. “Second, last night was amazing. And this morning. I thought we had something special too, but… I don’t know what to think anymore. I can’t compete. I don’t want to.”

  Annabella tipped her head. “Compete with who? I’m a one-woman girl. I’m old-fashioned that way.”

  Gracie sighed. “Trixie. I wanted it to be just us, but Trixie just compl
icates everything. I don’t want her, I want you. Just you.”

  “But you have me. Trixie is just for fun. My customers want it. I in turn need customers, so I give them what they want. It’s the circle of life.”

  “But why can’t you be you, with me?”

  Annabella slid closer to Gracie and held her hand. “I am me, with you. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with how I run my business, but unless you’ve got a winning lottery ticket or some amazing investments you’d like to share with me, I’ve got to pay bills and have money to live on.”

  Gracie sniffled as tears spilled down her cheeks. “I know, I get it, and it’s cool. I just… I had a really awful day today and when I needed to hear your voice when I was down I got… her. I couldn’t deal, so I bailed.” She looked balefully into Annabella’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Annabella sniffled and pulled Gracie close. “I’m sorry too, sweetie. I didn’t know. I wish you would have told me and I would have moved heaven and earth to give you what you needed. That’s the key, Gracie: talk to me. Don’t shut me out. If we’re together, then include me.”

  Gracie nodded. “I will. I promise.”

  Annabella kissed her forehead, then looked up at Jacqueline who stood shell-shocked in the center of the room. “Oops, I’m guessing this is new information.”

  Gracie looked up at her sister and wiped her cheek with her fingers. “Oh hey, Fortune, I guess this is what you get for coming over uninvited. I’m gay.” She beamed at the sight of Jacqueline’s horrified expression. “And this is my girlfriend, Annabella.”

  Jacqueline’s jaw moved up and down a few times before she finally produced vocal sounds. “I… well… I was just… I can’t get your sister to wake up. She’s out cold on her bedroom floor, and I—” She turned around to gesture at Agnes’s bedroom door, and she was startled to find Agnes standing in the hallway. “Oh. You’re up.”

  Agnes rubbed her eyes. “Girlfriend.”

  Jacqueline grimaced and tried to regain her composure. “Well. Yes, apparently, Lauren believes she is gay and has introduced me to her girlfriend. That’s not important right now, Agnes. I have urgent matters to discuss with you.”

  Agnes shuffled into the room and squinted at Annabella. “Girlfriend. You.”

  Annabella cleared her throat awkwardly. “I wasn’t expecting this to cause family drama, but yes, Gracie and I are in a relationship.” She gave Agnes a wave with her free hand. “I’m Annabella. And you are…?”

  Agnes did not reply. She turned around and returned robotically to her bedroom, with Jacqueline in close pursuit. The bedroom door closed behind them and Jacqueline’s urgent questioning reverberated through it.

  Annabella smiled at Gracie. “Sorry for outing you.”

  “Sorry for having to. I should have said something sooner, not that it’s any of her business.”

  “So, you were saying: bad day today? What’s wrong?”

  Gracie kissed her and sucked in a deep breath afterward. “Nothing, anymore. Just hold me, and don’t let go.”

  Annabella kissed her back and held her close. “Okay, I won’t let go.”

  “Sing to me,” Gracie said.

  Annabella sang softly as she rocked Gracie gently in her arms.

  CHAPTER 51: BAD COP

  Agnes dropped face-first onto her bed. Jacqueline closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned over the bed, shaking Agnes by her slight shoulders.

  “Agnes, it is imperative that I speak with you this instant,” Jacqueline intoned. Agnes buried her face in her pillow and did not stir. Jacqueline huffed and flicked on a light switch. A desk lamp turned on, revealing a sparsely furnished room. Agnes’s hair was damp and stringy. Her body odor was strong, which prompted Jacqueline to open the bedroom window and wave her palm disdainfully in front of her nose.

  She shook Agnes again. “Agnes, this is serious. Marc is in significant legal jeopardy, and Lauren tells me you know where he is. It is vital I get to him first, so these matters can be sorted out and addressed privately.”

  Agnes mumbled something into her pillow. Jacqueline huffed again and forcibly rolled her onto her side. Agnes scrunched up her face and buried it into her pillow again. “Leeme lone.”

  “No, Agnes, I’ve come too far to walk away with so little to show for it. Lauren has been obstinate at every turn, and now she’s decided to identify as a homosexual, which is patently ludicrous. Neither mother nor myself have ever observed any such tendencies from her, but I do recall a strong contrarian streak from day one. She referred me to you, Agnes, claiming you alone had the answer. So, tell me, and tell me now: where is Marc?”

  “Not secret girlfriend. Not her. Can’t think. Not her.”

  Jacqueline groaned and shook Agnes again. “I didn’t ask about secret girlfriends. I asked where Marc is. Focus, Agnes. It’s a simple question.”

  “Nuh guh duh,” Agnes mumbled. “I said leeme lone. Sick. Tired.”

  Jacqueline took a step back, then pulled the desk chair over to have a seat beside Agnes. She took a long look at her sister. A large sweat stain had formed on her back. Agnes took shallow breaths and trembled as she hugged her pillow to her face. Jacqueline felt a surge of pity. If Agnes wasn’t feeling well, perhaps it was best to let her sleep and circle back once more before heading back to New York, she thought. But as Jacqueline watched Agnes take shallow breaths and tremble, she couldn’t squander this opportunity to get the answers she needed. Even one. Marc’s location would be a huge step forward. She leaned forward and patted Agnes on the back.

  “I’m sorry you’re feeling poorly. If there’s something I can get you, I’d be happy to help. Because that’s what family does, Agnes, isn’t it? We help each other. Can I get you a drink of water? Is there medication you should be taking?”

  Agnes shook her head but did not pull away from her pillow.

  “Well, the offer still stands. Anything at all, I’ll do it for you. Having said that, I hope you can see your way clear to helping me. Because helping me really means helping Marc, Agnes. He needs my help. Our help. I need you to tell me where he is. Lauren says you took her there. I won’t ask how or why. I just want to know where, Agnes. Please, I’m desperate.”

  Agnes pulled her face away from her pillow and squinted at Jacqueline. “Why?”

  Jacqueline stammered and sputtered at this. “W-why? Didn’t you hear what I just said? Marc’s in a lot of trouble. It’s imperative that I find him and settle these matters at once.”

  “Why?”

  “How can you ask me that? If you want the unvarnished truth, Agnes, this situation is personally embarrassing. Marc’s actions reflect poorly on the rest of us. And to be quite candid, Richardson’s career is in jeopardy as a direct result. But I can fix this. I can settle this privately, and get things back to normal, or as close to normal as one might hope under the circumstances. Come on, Agnes, nobody needs to suffer any more than they already have. Personally, I think this is a huge misunderstanding, but I need to speak to Marc to be sure.”

  Agnes frowned. “Do you love him?”

  Jacqueline snort-laughed. “Love who? Richardson? Or Marc? As for the former, of course. We have a fulfilling life together and two wonderful children. As for the latter, well, I love all my family. Why do you ask?”

  “Secret girlfriend. Bad.”

  “I assume you are referring to the farce we both apparently witnessed a short time ago. I believe adults can choose who to be in a relationship with, regardless of what society at large might think about those choices. If Lauren wants to engage in a same-sex relationship, that’s not any of my business unless it directly affects me or my family, which currently it does not. Marc’s actions, insofar as the accusations that have been leveled against him, not to mention the property damage claims and unpaid bills that have fallen to Richardson and I to cover while Marc is unaccounted for, are of grave importance to me. So, I ask again: Agnes, please, where is Marc?”

  “You don’t love him.”

>   Jacqueline let off an exasperated sigh. “Agnes, enough is enough. Tell me where he is. Now.”

  Agnes buried her face in her pillow. “Tired. Sleep.”

  Jacqueline stood up forcefully, sending the desk chair backward onto the floor. She shook Agnes by the shoulders, digging her nails into her pale flesh as she did. “Tell me, Agnes. Tell me now.”

  The bedroom door burst open. Gracie marched up to Jacqueline and yanked her away from Agnes. “Leave Weirdness alone, you witch!” Jacqueline pushed her aside and dug her nails into Agnes’s shoulders again.

  “Tell me! Tell me where he is! I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

  Gracie pulled her away once more and gave Jacqueline a hard shove toward the door. “Look, she’s bleeding. Get the hell out of my house, Fortune. Nobody wants you here.”

  Jacqueline lunged forward again but was held back by Annabella. Jacqueline spun around and came face to face with her. “Get your filthy hands off me. This is a Nicola Westleigh, and I won’t have you ruining it.” She slid her palms down her blazer to smooth it out.

  Gracie’s face turned beet red. “Get out my effing house, Fortune. Don’t ever come back.”

  Jacqueline raised her chin haughtily. “I’m family. I’ll come and go as I please.”

  Gracie grabbed a handful of Jacqueline’s blazer and marched her out of Agnes’s bedroom, through the living room, and to the front door. She stood six inches shorter and was surprised at her strength as she pushed her out of the apartment. “Not anymore, Fortune. You’re dead to me.” Gracie slammed the door shut and threw the deadbolt. She stood with her back to the door, shaking from an adrenaline surge.

  Annabella pulled Gracie away from the door and into her arms. She kissed the top of Gracie’s head as she cried in her arms. Annabella spied a cream-colored bag on the dining room table and pulled away from Gracie. She opened the front door and found Jacqueline standing in the hallway, dumbstruck. Annabella pulled her into the apartment and ushered her to the sofa.