“Let me hold it!”
I handed the crystal over, avoiding any direct contact with the rock, and she grabbed it in both hands and stared at the winking facets of the stone with avid intensity
“This is the key. Look how deep it is, Finn. It’s so deep! The answers are here in the dreamstone. It’s good to have it back in my hands after so long; it’s good to know it will help save us.”
“Jen, it’s just a crystal. My dad gave it to me. You’ve never even seen it before last week, remember? That was the first time you came into my room.”
Again, confusion chased across her volatile features, and she looked down at the crystal in her hands. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. We go to school.” She said in a faint almost-whisper, “I get so confused sometimes. I have memories of another place. When it happens I lose myself…” Her voice trailed off.
My heart was breaking. I sat down on her left and put my arm around her. She was so small and lost. I just wanted to protect her and help her. I tried to remember some of the things my shrink had told me when I was suffering from my night terrors or having a panic attack.
“It’ll all be okay, Jen. Just remember all the things you love. Keep them in your thoughts.”
She answered slowly as she thought about it. “I love my brother… and I love my parents. Jane is my best friend. We play soccer together. She thinks you’re cute, too.” She said this last bit looking at me again with a shadow of her normal mischievous smile.
“Really?” I was sidetracked by images of Jane in her soccer uniform while standing with Jen outside of Dave’s car. She had a pretty round face and was built like a greyhound. She was as cute as Jen.
“Yes,” she insisted. “She must be able to see how brightly you shine, too.”
“What do you mean I shine? I don’t tan well, but I don’t shine.”
“No. You shine.” Suddenly, her face closed in with fear again. “There are others here. I’ve seen them!”
“Seen who?”
“The dark ones. I’ve seen those who have darkness covering their soul. They’re here. Sometimes I see them in the hall. They’ve been taken by the ancient enemy and will destroy us all.”
She paused, caught up in the memory of something. I just watched with a sense of dread and despair. Jen was lost, and I didn’t know how to help her.
I decided to try one last time and reached my left hand to her face and pulled her attention to me. “Jen, you’re safe. I’m safe. There is nothing evil out there.”
Her eyes grew wide again. “You’re wrong! The shadows are real. They are hunting us, plotting our extinction. They hate us. You have to kill them!”
I shook my head. “That’s just your confusion speaking.”
“No! You have to destroy the tree before it destroys you. If you die, then everything I have striven for so long will be nothing but ashes. Kill it for me, Finn! Promise you’ll kill it!”
“But, Jen—”
The door opened and a gray-haired nurse poked her head in. “I thought I heard shouting. Sir, what are you doing here? Visiting hours are over. You’ll have to leave, or I’ll have you escorted out.”
I dropped my arm from around Jen and looked guiltily from the nurse to Jen’s pleading face and back again.
“Uh, I was just leaving,” I said, standing up.
Jen clutched my arm to stop me. “Finn, promise me you’ll kill it!”
I’ve often wondered how differently things would have turned out if I had agreed to her request, even if I hadn’t carried it out. If I’d only told her a little lie and reassured her that everything would be okay, yet I couldn’t say those words. Maybe the intensity of the moment stopped me, or maybe I thought I would betray Spring by comforting Jen, or maybe it was just misplaced honor, but I couldn’t lie to her.
“Jen,” I whispered. “I can’t do it. She’s not bad. She’s no threat.” As soon as I said it, I realized again that I believed those words to the bottom of my heart.
Jen began to cry again and pleaded with a stricken expression on her face. “No, Finn! It’ll kill you, too! Please, I’m begging you to believe me.”
At this point, the nurse walked across the room to the bedside and gave me an alarmed stare.
She grabbed my other arm to get my attention. “Young man, can’t you see she’s distraught? Please leave now. You shouldn’t be here.”
I pulled away from Jen’s grip.
“Don’t go near that tree unless you’re going to kill it. Please, Finn!”
“I’m sorry, Jen. I can’t do that.” And then I fled the room.
Mission Impossible
I had a lot of time to think about things during the wait at the bus stop and the slow ride home. I went over my conversation with Jen time and time again. Her reactions scared and disturbed me, and I couldn’t make any sense of them. I also had likely done more harm than good in visiting her.
My dad’s anger toward me for reading his diary stung. Not only didn’t I read his diary, but also I wouldn’t have, even if I had been aware of its existence. He should have known me better than that.
What did he write in his diary that made him go so crazy if he thought I read it? Why did Jen talking about my world hit him so hard? It certainly scared me to see him act that way. I couldn’t stand the idea that this could all somehow be my fault. But why does it mean anything at all to my dad? Something in my dad’s diary would help me answer some of my questions.
When I arrived home, I couldn’t give in to my exhaustion and let myself go to bed. Rather, I went into my dad’s office to see if I could find his diary and read what had him so freaked out. It was a really, really stupid idea, yet I couldn’t stop myself. I was missing something important, and I wouldn’t have a better opportunity. I grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen, returned to his office, and sifted through all his bookshelves. Once a decent-sized room, it seemed a bit too cramped to be called cozy now with bookshelves and cabinets on every wall.
I had just finished searching one of his shelves when I threw my beam across his desk. There lay a small black book in front of the chair, as if he had been reading it. I vaguely remembered seeing that book before somewhere on his bookshelf, but had never touched it. Faded gold lettering on its worn, black leather, binding read, “My Diary”. I couldn’t equate this with my dad and couldn’t imagine him keeping a diary, especially one that had, “My Diary” in curly script on the cover.
I almost put it back. He didn’t want me to read it, but my feelings of betrayal and my anger overcame my hesitancy. I rationalized that since I had already gotten in trouble for it, I might as well get the benefit, and forced myself to open the cover to the first page.
Just as I prepared to flip through the book, it automatically opened to a specific page. I read the first entry written in my dad’s precise handwriting. The short entry there rocked my already shaky world.
Last night I had the dream again. I was wandering through the crystal city, heartbroken. Infala and all mankind were doomed to fall. The ancient enemy would not be stopped, and we were doomed. I woke up crying for Kathryn, gripping the amethyst that had been so important to her in her last days—my only connection to her. Little Finn was also awake and crying. I knew I should get up and go to him, but I couldn’t. I lay there a long time before I dragged myself out of bed. I couldn’t shake the dreams and dreaded living without her.
Kathy’s ramblings about Ilya and Lerica and the dangers of the forest have sunk into my soul, and I cannot escape from them. I cannot keep this up. I think I’ll have to get professional help—I can’t be like this and be the dad my son needs.
After reading what my dad’s diary contained, I couldn’t bear to see Spring, so I went to sleep in the family room instead of going up to bed.
As I lay on the couch with all this information swirling through my tired brain, I came to a scary conclusion. Even if it meant getting thrown into the loony bin, I had to tell my mom and dad what was happening to me. Somehow, my mother’
s amethyst could give people visions. It had happened to me, my dad, and now Jen; only for Jen, it had driven her insane.
I couldn’t help but wonder if the presence of the black heart of Wendigota had been responsible for hurting her.
Crystal Clarity
Mom woke me up around six o’clock and sent me upstairs to my room to sleep.
I shuffled downstairs around noon and headed for the kitchen to feed the monster in my stomach. A note for me from my mom sat on the table. She said she had gone out to get a couple of things at the store and would be back shortly, and my dad was over at Uncle Mark’s. I was relieved, because I didn’t know what to say to my parents.
There wasn’t much in the cupboard, so I made do. I crunched my way through a second bowl of Grape-Nuts, lost in the incredible roar they sent reverberating through my skull, when I looked out the back window.
A small sapling had sprung up outside our patio. It looked like Mom had been busy. It seemed kind of a weird place to plant a tree, especially since it grew in the area my dad had set off for the unfinished deck. I went to the door and tried to slide it open, but it didn’t budge. Swearing, I unlocked the door and tried again. This time the door slid open a good centimeter before it came to a jarring halt, and I nearly ripped off my fingertips. This always happened when I tried to get through that stupid door—some kind of mental block on my part. I reached down to pull up the stopper stick. It wouldn’t budge, so I had to close the door again, take out the stick, and finally open the door before I could get out to the backyard.
Once there, I quickly forgot my frustration with that stupid door and gawked. Our backyard contained a forest of saplings. I tried swallowing my final mouthful of wholesome goodness before I had it thoroughly chewed. It scraped down my throat like a bag of sharp rocks.
I had almost finished gagging and wincing when I saw my oak. The “Gah!” that came from my mouth was a combination of the pain and dumb amazement.
The tree in front of me bore a passing resemblance to my oak. Leaves and acorns covered it. Not a single branch lay bare. It had grown ten feet taller and gained at least a foot in diameter. The crevasses in the bark were deeper and more gnarled, and the sun and sky were hidden by the thick canopy overhead.
If I had wondered before what my dryad did with all the… whatever she drained out of me, I had my answer. Ian Finn Morgenstern: fertilizer to the gods. No wonder I had been so tired and hungry lately; I was being made into trees.
I gaped for a few moments until my mom called to me through the open door. “Good morning, sleepyhead!”
I stayed cemented to the spot, staring, until she joined me a few seconds later.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she commented in wonder. “I was thinking about calling Channel Four News to do a story on it.”
The thought of a bunch of reporters crawling around here made me shudder, and my mom noticed. “Come back into the kitchen, Finn,” she said gently. “You look tired. Are you hungry?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay, then, let’s get you some lunch.”
Two fried baloney and cheese sandwiches, one apple, several handfuls of Doritos, and a large glass of milk later, and I began feeling better. I considered telling my mom everything first and getting her help in breaking it to Dad, but decided I’d rather tell the story just once.
As the sugar and fat hit my bloodstream, a new wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I crashed back onto the family room couch. I needed some escape from thinking of all the confrontations I had planned. Thank goodness neither my dad nor Gregg was around.
About an hour later, I woke to Dad coming in through the garage. I sat up and rubbed my eyes when I heard the grating rumble of the big garage door. The interior door swung open, and my dad walked in.
My greeting to him died mid-birth when I saw his grim face. My dad seldom got angry, but when he did, it was time to duck and cover. Anger radiated off him. “Uh-oh” barely had time to flit through my mind before he barked at me.
“Finn!”
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
“What the hell do you think you were doing last night?” He slammed the door and left a trail of smoke from both ears as swooped in on me.
At first, I thought he was talking about my dream, and then my brain kicked in. I wished it hadn’t. I didn’t know if his anger came from the hospital or his diary, and held a slim hope it could be something else.
“Uh, nothing, Dad.” I pulled away from him in fear as he stood looming and fuming before me.
“Finn, what the hell is wrong with you? What made you think it was a good idea for you to sneak out of this house, go to the hospital, and then get Jennifer Washington so agitated that they had to sedate her?”
“They had to sedate her?”
“Yes, they did, and Allen Washington is demanding that you be thrown in jail for assault. He’s going to get a restraining order.”
“Dad, I didn’t—”
“Don’t give me that crap!” he shouted. “It won’t work anymore. You have destroyed any trust we may have shared. Apparently, I have no idea who you are or what you’re doing. You’re going to tell me what’s going on, or I’ll beat it out of you!”
“Dad! I had to go!”
“No, you didn’t! There’s no possible good reason for sneaking out like that and adding to that poor girl’s troubles. For Christ's sake, you just got home from the hospital yourself!”
“Dad, she begged me to come. She said she had to see me last night.”
“What?” That bucket of water on his boiler stopped my dad for a moment. “When did she say that? Did she call you?”
“No, Dad, she texted me.”
“She texted you.”
“Yes, she did! She wanted me to come alone, and she sounded so desperate that I couldn’t take the chance you’d say, ‘no.’” Tears welled in my eyes. My poor battered emotions couldn’t hold them back.
“Show me,” he demanded in a more level tone.
So I did. I turned on my phone and let him see the messaging history.
Grim-faced, he picked the phone up, and he read through the messages. “Finn, this dreamstone she wanted you to bring. Is that your mom’s amethyst she was talking about?”
I nodded, wondering, will this get me into more trouble?
“Finn, why did she want the amethyst?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Dad. She kept saying that it was important.”
“Why was it important, Finn? What have you been doing with that crystal?”
His intensity frightened me more than his anger had. “Nothing, Dad. I don’t take it anywhere or do anything with it! I keep it safe. I only showed it to her once.”
After a few moments of digesting this, his face drained of color, like someone had hit him with a bat.
“Tell me what happened,” he murmured intently.
I knew what he wanted to hear. My dad and I understood each other, sometimes to the point that my mom complained that we talked in code. Though I hesitated, I began, afraid of getting into more trouble over something I didn’t understand.
“Well, she came into the room, and we talked a little bit. She saw the amethyst and wanted to see it more closely, so I handed it to her and…,” I paused, remembering the cascade of feelings and events.
“And what, Finn? What happened?”
“And, uh...” I suddenly remembered more. “No, wait. She had picked it up first to look at it. That made me nervous, so I grabbed it from her and…”
I stopped, afraid to go on. I pulled away from my memory and into his intense gaze, and realized I didn’t have a choice. “And then this fire rushed through me. I got dizzy, and fell to the floor, and the window broke, and Jen screamed, and when I got up, she had already run away.”
He stared at the wall, lost in thought, his face gone blank.
“D-dad?” I asked. “What is it?”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before, Finn?”
<
br /> “Uh, I did.”
“You didn’t tell me about the amethyst before.”
“Yes, I did… didn’t I?”
He shook his head.
I asked, “Why does it matter? I don’t think she would have hurt it—”
“That’s not it, Finn,” he said and then added in a stronger voice, “I need that amethyst. Can you go get it for me?”
“Uh, I don’t have it. I left it with Jen.”
“You let her keep it?”
“Yeah, I didn’t have time to get it back, because the nurse chased me out.”
“Come on. We’re going to the hospital.” He started back for the garage door.
I got up. “Dad, what’s going on?”
My mom was standing in the archway between the kitchen and the family room. She remained rigidly still, with her arms wrapped around herself, watching my dad with concern writ large on her body.
“I’m coming with you,” she said.
He just nodded. The three of us piled into the car and headed off to the hospital.
“Jack, slow down!” Mom said as he raced out onto Granville. “Getting there dead won’t do anyone any good.” He didn’t answer and didn’t slow down.
“Jack, talk to me. What’s going on here?” demanded my mom.
Silence.
“Jack!”
My dad seemed reluctant to respond, but finally gave in. “I don’t know, Beth. But I think that amethyst has something to do with it.”
“Why?” Mom and I asked simultaneously.
He glanced in the rear-view mirror at me, where I sat hanging between the front two seats. For once, he didn’t harp on me to sit back and put on my seat belt.
“It’s about your birth mother, Finn. Kathryn. The same thing that happened to her is happening to your friend, Jennifer.”
“What? But, she died!”
“She died giving birth to you, but before that, she had a complete mental breakdown. She'd never had any mental problems before the pregnancy. There was some history of it in her family, but she had never had trouble… until I gave her the crystal.”
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