House of Scarabs

by Hazel Longuet

  British weather certainly adds a little drama, Ben thought.

  The day had started with a beautiful misty morning, the vapour hanging in the folds of the countryside that wrapped around Scarab's Rest. As the sun peaked over the horizon, the mist had taken a golden hue, and Ben had watched a deer grazing peacefully in the front paddock. By nine a.m., the sun burned off the mist, and the day promised to be an autumn spectacle.

  When they set out, just after lunch, it started to drizzle. Now, from nowhere, the wind had picked up, and an Arctic gale was sweeping the Kennet and Avon Canal.

  “Do you know any songs?” Ellie shouted breathlessly over her shoulder.

  “You want a sing-a-long? Wow, you’re embracing the spirit of an outing, Ells. I do a fairly good rendition of ‘My Way’.”

  “I’ve told you repeatedly not to call me that, and lord preserve my ears from the torture of your voice. No, I want you to translate it,” she replied.

  He crooned the entire song, mimicking Frank Sinatra, in perfect Arabic. Ellie groaned and surged forward to escape the final deafening chorus.

  With a smirk, Ben noticed Ellie lift herself from the bike's seat and use her full body weight to push on through the wind. How could such a cold, difficult woman come in such a siren's body? he wondered for the hundredth time.

  The weather didn't dent his enthusiasm. It felt good visiting Black Cat Books at last. He'd started to read about it six months ago on various blogs. It was Ellie's proximity to the store that had sealed the deal, killing two birds with one stone. He'd learn Arabic and visit the famed bookshop.

  For such a remote business, it sure got a whole heap of publicity. It seemed to be everywhere: on Facebook; first return on Google searches; and reviewed by every blog related to Egyptology, mythology, and Wicca. Ellie interrupted his train of thought by throwing out phrases for him to translate as they cycled on towards the store.

  “This weather looks changeable. I think we should do a flying visit and get back home before the heavens open,” Ellie said.

  She stared up at the blanket of grey clouds overhead as they rounded the corner and saw the bookshop. Built of the local honey-gold Bath stone, with two mullioned windows that projected a warm glow out into the gloom of the day, it looked like a perfect refuge. Two large black cats hewn from granite stood guard outside the door.

  Ellie passed her bike to Ben and stamped blood back into her feet. “Lock the bikes up over there, please.”

  “Do we need to lock them? Ben asked. “We haven’t seen a soul since we left the house.”

  “Yes,” Ellie answered, disappearing into the warmth of the shop.

  Confusion

  Present Day Back In Gerhard’s Study

  "So, that's how we ended up here," Ben concluded.

  Gerhard, who'd been listening with closed eyes and jotting down notes every now and again, straightened in his chair and stared down at his notebook.

  "So, to summarise," he said, pointing to the jottings in his book, "first, you had an overwhelming desire to focus on Egyptology. Second, Ellie's ex-husband, an old friend of yours, recommended her to you. Third, you went to her school because of its proximity to my shop, which you'd seen mentioned all over the internet. Is that right?"

  "Yes, I guess so," Ben replied, "except I didn't know Ellie was his ex-wife. I knew he'd married. I'd even got an invitation to the wedding but couldn't attend as I was on a dig in Cusco and caught Typhus. But he'd always called her 'his Elena', and I didn't connect Ellie with Elena. I'm sorry," he said, turning to her. "I had no idea."

  She looked down at her hands clenched together. Tears welled in her eyes, magnifying the vulnerability. She shook her head slightly. "It's not your fault. How could you know?"

  Gerhard stood, moved stiffly to his desk, and sat down at his computer. He opened a complicated spreadsheet, scrolled down the long list, and asked Ben to name the blog sites on which he'd seen the reviews. Ben named the few he often visited and the search strings he'd used to find others on Google.

  Gerhard checked the names against his data and then he opened each of the web pages and searched for “Black Cat Books”. Finally, he asked Ben to sign into his Facebook account and review the advertisements presented on his feed. All the searches came up negative. Black Cat Books was nowhere to be seen.

  "This is odd. I've not placed an advertisement on Google or Facebook, and I can find no reference to any review about Black Cat Books on any of the blogs you've highlighted. You're sure it was my shop mentioned, ja?"

  "Absolutely. They all covered the store, with photos and even the address. That's how I knew it was near Ellie's as you're both outside of Bath. I don't understand. You were everywhere I looked," he said, pushing his fingers through his dark hair. "How about you? How do you come to be here? I mean, you're not English, but I can't quite place your accent. Sometimes it has a Germanic twang, but then there's a softness and a roll to some words."

  "Ah, how sad," Gerhard replied with a twinkle. "I still have an accent, ja? I thought I sounded like John Gielgud. Well, my accent has many influences. My parents were both German, and that was the language we spoke at home, but I was born in Peru and lived there until ten years ago. My wife, Sofia, became ill, and we came to the UK for treatment.

  "After her loss, I couldn't face returning home without her. I didn't feel I had a home any longer. I toured around for a while. It was a hard time. I didn't cope well at all, but all clouds pass, as they say. One day, I found myself in this little village, facing this building, and I remembered her dream to open a community-led bookshop. So, I combined her dream with my obsession with magic and mythology, and I created a memorial for my Sofia here," he whispered, drifting into his memories. "She was a beauty, full of Roman fire and fight. Ja, well, that is it."

  Ellie smiled sympathetically at Gerhard. "So, no obvious link to either myself or Ben. I was thinking maybe the symbols it gave us had a hidden meaning. The scarab is part of my family's coat of arms. Gerhard, does the cat mean anything to you? After all, you named the shop Black Cat Books. Why did you choose that name?"

  "It may have symbolism. I'm not sure. My mother gave me an ancient spherical watch, which she said had come from her father's family. It's a beautiful thing, round with a loop on the top for hanging from a belt, I suppose. When you lift the lid, it exposes a dial. It's not very convenient for day-to-day use, but it's my only link to my family line.

  “My mother was tight-lipped about her family. She said we'd left them and all they stood for behind us. I know nothing at all about them. My parents changed our name when they arrived in Peru, and I don't even know what our original name was. I've always suspected there's a dark secret hidden somewhere. The watch is all I have to define my heritage, so when I named the shop, well, see for yourself."

  The item he showed them wasn’t like any watch they'd ever seen. It was more like a pomander, a heavily decorated sphere with interlocking hooks that held the two halves together. Stylised etchings of cats covered the brass-coloured metal, and punched into the middle and top of the sphere were triangular shapes. It was clearly very old.

  Ben asked for a magnifying glass and studied the watch intently, turning it this way and that, opening the container and examining the mechanism. With a sharp intake of breath, he said, "I’d say this is medieval. It looks like a Bisamapfeluhr watch, but it can't be. Only five had survived up to World War II, and most of those vanished during the war. None are known to have featured cat etchings. Gerhard, this may be extremely valuable."

  "To me, it is priceless, and that's why I called the shop Black Cat Books," Gerhard replied, taking the watch back. He deposited it in a custom-built, moulded and baize-lined drawer, which he locked.

  "Okay, so you and cats, Ellie and scarabs, but why the hell did they burn a crocodile into my palm? I have no association with them whatsoever." Ben thought about his parents, with their compulsive consumerism, addiction to the newest brands and latest gismos, and their ultra-modern, minimal
istic homes. "Even if we'd had a historical connection, my family wouldn't have preserved it. I'm afraid heritage is alien to my family. Progression is the key word at home. I'm the black sheep of the family, turning my back on the call of the dollar to 'grub around in the dirt', as my father calls it."

  "Ah, well, the connection may still be there, even if you are not aware of it. We should explore that line of investigation later," Gerhard said, noting it down in his book. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, squinting across at them. "We seem to be opening more questions than we're closing."

  "Gerhard, can you look at me?" Ben said, springing to his feet. Taken aback, Gerhard turned towards him. Punching the air triumphantly, Ben said, "Yes! I had a hunch, and I'm right. You have heterochromia."

  "Yes, I have it, as did my mother. It's a genetic variant, I believe. Completely harmless. Why?"

  "You, Ellie, and I all have emerald green eyes, which are rare in the general populace. We also have heterochromia, which is extremely rare. In addition, we all have amber crescents in the same position on our eyes. The chances must be infinitesimal."

  Staring first at Ben and then at Ellie, Gerhard shook his head in wonder. "Oh, my! That's off-putting. It's like looking in a mirror. Ja, you may be on to something, Ben. This must be significant. I cannot believe it a coincidence."

  Ellie reached across and grabbed a petit four. She nibbled on it, flicking at the crumbs that fell. The link between them was unquestionable, but for what purpose? Gazing out the window, Ben noticed that the afternoon was drawing in, leaves were blowing around in a whirlwind outside the store, and the sky was full of dark, ominous clouds.

  "I'm beat. Let's sleep on it and see if the cold light of morning will shed any further illumination on the matter. Come on, Ellie. We've got a slog ahead of us. You don't mind if we break off here, do you, Gerhard?"

  "No. On the contrary, it's a good idea. May I take your number and call you tomorrow?"

  Ellie reeled off her mobile number as she pulled on her outdoor layers.

  The Boundary

  Ellie paused in the doorway, peering out at the raging storm. Shivering, she raised her collar and snuggled deeper into her jacket. "Good God, can this day get worse?" she muttered to herself and took a determined step towards the bikes.

  The wind howled as they set off. It whipped around their legs, searching and finding every gap in their clothing, chilling them to the bone. Leaves whirled in frenzied swirls, lashing their faces, and the sky was darkening into a moody, dark opalescence. They were both deep in contemplation, and the silence between them sat like an impenetrable wall. The wind's velocity grew more aggressive with each rotation of the pedals. Soon, even though they were on a level path, they had to rise from the seats and use their entire body weight to drive the bikes forward. The noise was deafening as trees groaned under the onslaught. Tiny, sharp shards of hail sliced from the sky, cutting into them.

  “Jeez, this is awful. We need to take cover,” Ben screamed at Ellie. Ellie gestured that she couldn’t hear. Pulling over, he screeched into her ear, "We need to take cover and ride out this storm."

  "Where, exactly? We're in the middle of countryside, and taking cover under the trees would be more dangerous than continuing in the open," she bellowed back at him. Ben searched around in desperation but realised the truth of her words.

  They remounted and struggled onwards into the fury. The hail, like little bullets, hammered down, and both were desperate to escape its barbs. They were buffeted around and destabilised as gusts swept from the North, then changed and attacked from the East, only to change again within seconds to another direction. They wobbled and teetered their way along the cycle track, making little headway.

  Ben peered ahead and recoiled. A wall of opaque fog swept towards them, belying the laws of physics. Its alien presence was intimidating. Fog couldn't exist in this wind, Ben thought. What the hell is it? He drew alongside Ellie and gestured forward.

  "Oh, my God," Ellie mouthed at him, her words tossed away by the wind.

  "We have to turn back."

  "No, we'll get lost. I don't know the roads in Freshford. If we carry on, we are on a flat cycle path almost all the way home. Less chance of getting lost in the fog."

  "What?" Ben mouthed.

  Ellie bent into him and repeated herself, screaming the words.

  "What about the canal? We could fall in it!"

  "We'll push the bikes. That way, we'll feel the path under our feet."

  They struggled on, fighting every step of the way, creeping slowly towards the encroaching wall of fog. As they entered, it silenced everything – the sound of the wind and the trees and even their own footsteps and breath. It was ghostly and eerie. Ellie shuddered. The fog was more like a hostile presence than a natural meteorological occurrence. It cancelled out all sound and absorbed all light, rendering them almost blind, only able to see the cloying, swirling gloom of the fog itself.

  Ellie reached for Ben, touch being one of the few senses left to her. The wind had grown stronger still and was almost lifting them off their feet, yet the fog seemed impervious to it. Ellie felt Ben trying to pull her backwards, but she resisted, certain they stood less chance of getting lost if they travelled onward to Scarab's Rest.

  The fog grew thicker and darker until it was a dense, jet-black barrier. A hurricane-like gust of wind caught Ellie unaware, knocking her to the ground. Struggling to keep his footing, Ben fumbled in the dark to find Ellie's hand and pulled her back to her feet.

  As they regained their balance and took a step forward, they tumbled down in a jumble of arms, legs, and bikes. The path was a slick lane of ice. Ellie landed heavily on top of Ben, who wrapped his arms around her and held on. She felt his hands sliding around her hips and across her groin. She struggled to regain her freedom, punching and scratching. Ben flipped her over and pinned her down.

  "What the hell are you doing? Let me go!" she shrieked, her words absorbed by the fog. His hands continued their investigation, sliding from her hand to her arm and down. Then she felt him take something from her pocket. A faint glow moved towards her, and she saw the screen of her mobile. Ben held her hands above her head with one hand and used the other to type a message on the phone, which he then passed to her.

  This is impossible. We need to call for help. I'm going to let you go. Don't hit me, okay?

  Slowly, he eased the pressure and released her. Ellie grabbed the phone and typed:

  Try that again, buster, and you will have a bloody nose and more trouble than you'll know how to handle!

  Exasperated, Ben snatched the handset and hit the keys manically.

  Ellie, we have a bigger problem here. This is not natural. Something is trying to block us. We shouldn't provoke it further. Did you get Gerhard's mobile number?

  Ellie felt the creep of claustrophobia as she peered around, trying to infiltrate the wall of fog whilst Ben typed. All her senses were screaming at their sudden sensory deprivation. She'd never admit it to Ben, but she was doubting her conviction to keep moving forward. What on earth was happening? Nothing made sense.

  Ben handed her the mobile.

  "Damn it!" She realised that she didn't have Gerhard's mobile number; she'd only taken his landline. Panic rose in her throat. What should they do? She wasn't prepared for this. Her world had shifted on its axis, and her perfectly organised and managed life didn't give her any tools for working in this new arena. Her mind flicked through their options; should they continue onward, retreat, or sit it out?

  Her mobile lit up. She glanced down and saw the icon for an incoming text message from an unknown number.

  Ellie, are you both okay? There's a wall of blue energy through the middle of Black Cat Books, and I can't get through it. It keeps showing me an image of the three of us. I'll come and find you. Where are you?

  She read Gerhard’s message one last time and then passed it to Ben, biting down on her lip to stop the brimming tears.

  Ben read it.r />
  He's right, Ellie. We should wait for him. I've lost my orientation. Let's dig in here.

  Without warning, Ellie was swept into a huge bear hug. She went rigid with shock and pulled away, but Ben strengthened his hold. She fought the panic until, to her surprise, a slow glow of peace calmed her, leaving her warm and safe. Sensing her relax, Ben rested his chin on the top of her head and rocked her back and forth. The sweetness of the gesture was her undoing and unlocked her tears. Hadn't she gone through enough, suffered enough? Why was this happening? She wanted her life back under control.

  Ben held her, smoothing her hair until she'd sobbed it all out. Lessening his hold, he texted their rough location to Gerhard. Wrapped in each other's hug, they waited for his arrival.

  Ellie closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. His heart thudded a Morse code of comfort. How odd that Ben, of all people, provided such a safe harbour for her. She filed that thought away to dwell upon at a later date.

  She sensed a gradual change in the atmosphere and opened her eyes to find the fog folding back into itself and withdrawing. The wind had quietened, and the storm seemed to be moving away. Embarrassed now that she could see Ben, she moved away and stood up, brushing the mud and moss from her trousers.

  Gerhard's figure emerged from the final fingers of fog, moving with purpose and vigour towards them. "That was interesting, no?"

  Ellie and Ben grabbed the bikes and rushed to meet him.

  "After you left, I pottered around the shop, tallied the till, and secured the takings in the safe in the far back of the shop. Then, from nowhere, the wall of the security room glowed blue, like the sphere. I watched it and saw it coming towards me at a walking pace, pushing me back into the store. I tried to get through it, but it was a corporal substance, solid as a real wall and impenetrable. It kept moving until it reached the middle of the shop, where it projected a picture of the three of us within a circular boundary, like a prison boundary, which is when I sent you that note. It was very obvious it wanted us to be together."