by Zoe Tasia
Wagon? I guess they were dead serious about not allowing cars on the island. “I lost my husband,” I began tentatively. “I know it isn’t the same. You lost your child too. I never thought I would stop grieving either, but at some point, I think I’ll be ready and wanting to start seeing people.”
“You mean men,” he said flatly. Greg walked to a ledge that acted as a counter, poured the tea in mugs, and brought me one.
Didn’t he understand that by ‘people,’ I meant him? Was what I interpreted as mutual interest just wishful thinking on my part? The tea had a reddish hue. I brought it to my lips for a tentative sip to mask my confusion and, yes, hurt, and the aroma of raspberries wafted. “Believe it or not, a lot of people remarry after losing a spouse. There’s nothing wrong about it, so don’t you dare suggest I insult my husband by contemplating it,” I said, my tone as tart as the tea.
“I didna say that.” He turned to look at me, gulped from the mug, and grimaced.
“No, but I have the feeling that’s what you’re thinking, and it bothers me.” The couch kneaded my back in an attempt to calm me, but I didn’t want to be calmed and squared my shoulders.
“I canna move on.”
“Well, you need to. You don’t need to see other women, if you don’t want to. It’s more that you need to accept your loved ones’ deaths and embrace the life you have. I’m sure they would want that for you.”
“Yes. My wife was generous and sweet. So white, so frail.”
“Frail?”
“She was sickly. I hoped to move her somewhere isolated where she wouldna be exposed to illness. I brought her to the island, thinking she would be safe. Illness didna kill her, though. A fire did.”
“You can’t protect everything and everybody, Greg. Stuff happens. I didn’t want my husband to die, but he did. David had a long commute back and forth to work. The traffic in Houston...well, it’s bad. One day, he drove to work, and didn’t come home. What could I have done to prevent it? Tell him to quit his job? Tell him to stop driving? Where I come from that’s not an option. Mass transit doesn’t exist. I don’t think you can comprehend the size of the United States if you’ve not been there. Texas alone is nearly the size of Europe.”
“Aye, I have heard of the United States. They succeeded where Scotland didna. They fought and won their freedom.”
“Well, we are quite a ways away. Made it a little bit harder for Britain to keep us under its thumb. Do you still want independence?”
“Aye.” Greg’s face was grim.
“On one hand, I understand that, on the other...” While sipping my tea, I paused to choose my words. “Scotland has been a part of Great Britain for a long time. So, has Wales and Ireland. Does Wales feel this way too?”
“I dinna know nor care.”
Okay. Sore spot, Becca. Time to go home before I stick my foot farther down my throat. “It’s getting late. I definitely want to get back before it gets dark, and I’m utterly starving.”
“I will take you back. I havena been good company, and I regret that. I value our time together and want it to be pleasant.”
“Even the best of friends disagree, Greg, and I would never want to be around someone identical to me. That would be so boring.”
When he reached the couch, he took my hand. “Come.”
We walked to the door, and he didn’t release it once outside. A sudden gale rattled branches. The leaves swirled and my hair whipped my face.
Stopping, I tried to tug my hand free. “Wait, Greg! I can’t see.”
He released my hand only to wrap his arm around my waist and, before I could draw another breath to speak, he lifted me. My feet dangled as he carried me along at a speed that our surroundings were a blur and the air swept my hair back as if I rode a motorcycle. My eyes teared, and I closed them tight. After a short time, only a few minutes, the wind died down.
“There you are, Rebecca.” When my feet touched the ground, I opened my eyes. We stood at the edge of the forest in sight of the cottage’s back door. I shook my head.
He pulled me, but I resisted. “What is this?”
“What do you mean?”
“This—place, this island.”
“’Tis magic, but you already ken that, now didna you?”
He bent and his lips touched mine. I embraced him and ran my fingers through the dark locks that had tempted me. Time stood still and I willed it to stop forever. Greg drew back. Before I could say a word, he disappeared.
Chapter 26
I STOOD OUTSIDE UNTIL my heart stopped racing. “Like Alice in Wonderland and I was never a fan of that book,” I muttered as I finally felt able to walk around to the front of the house and open the door. When I checked the time, I saw it was later than I expected. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t had dinner. Too hungry to cook, I made a sandwich. I had just taken a bite, when Mrs. Murphy rang.
“I hope everything’s going well.” I assumed she called to let me know they were about to leave on the ferry.
“I think you need to come to talk to your lass.”
Uh oh. “What’s wrong?”
“When we reached the pier, there was a kerfuffle. I don’t ken it all, but the girls are upset and on the phone with their mums. One of the boys, Lundy, ran off. They all agree it was something young Jessica did,” she finished.
“I’ll be right there.” My finger posed over the end call button, but I didn’t touch it. “Wait. Could I speak to Jessie?”
“Aye, of course.”
I heard the usual background noise and then Jessica saying, “Mom?”
“You are to stay by the ferry until I come.”
“You’re coming? What did—” Obviously, the mother was nearby, and Jessie didn’t want to ask what Mrs. Murphy said in front of her.
“She said you did something to upset everyone and that Lundy ran off. You stay right there. I’m coming.”
“Okay, Mom.”
I didn’t know what she did, but it couldn’t have been good if she was immediately agreeing with me. Before I could say more, Jessie asked, “Oh, Mom? What about Tate?”
“If she wants to stay and she’s still welcome, she can. Mrs. Murphy didn’t mention her.”
“She didn’t do anything—well, nothing more than what we all did.”
“Give the phone back to Mrs. Murphy.”
When Mrs. Murphy picked up the phone, I said, “I’m terribly sorry. Jessie will wait for me at the pier. I don’t want you to miss the ferry.”
“I think most of the girls are going home. The movie is just not enticing enough. I’m taking my daughters there, though. If Tate wants to go, I’m happy to take her.”
“May I speak to her, please?” Ugh, maybe I should just call the girls myself instead of this ring-around-the-phonesy.
Tate murmured, “Hello.”
“Tate, you have a choice. You can go with Mrs. Murphy and her daughters to the movies, or you can wait at the ferry for me.”
“I want to go home. Everyone’s sad.”
“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I called Kay to see if she would give me a ride into town, but she didn’t answer the phone, so I ran to the bus stop. As I rounded the corner, I was just in time to see the bus’s tail lights receding. Of course, I’d miss the bus. I paced back and forth and bit my nails. While I waited, I got out my phone to report the delay, but naturally, no bars. What in the world had Jessie done? Finally, the next bus arrived. It seemed to take forever for it to reach the ferry. The girls waited alone. Darn, I should have told them to wait at the bus stop. I could have called them to join me and we all could have rode back home. I forlornly watched the bus pull away.
When I got to the girls, I said, “Come along. You can explain yourself while we wait for the bus.” Agitated, I tugged out my phone again to see if Kay called back. When I did, the bus pass fell from my pocket. Before I could grab it, the wind took it off the pier and into the water. “Oh great. I don’t suppose either of you have a bus
card or exact change?”
“Sorry, Mom. I left my bus card back at Nessa’s house,” Jessie said, her voice barely audible.
Tate shook her head.
“Then I guess we’re walking. We should have plenty of time to get back home before dark.” As we traipsed toward home, I said, “Okay, Jessica—spill.”
She sighed. “Well, you know I told you that Nessa has a crush on Lundy? I thought up a plan to make him notice her—or at least not want to be around the rest of us.”
I waited.
“When he was at the cottage, the kitten bothered him, and I thought if he thought he was allergic to everyone except Nessa, he’d leave the rest of us alone, and she would have a chance with him,” Jessie said in a rush. “Whenever I comb the cat, I’ve been saving the fur. I had everyone except Nessa tuck some in their pockets—all the girls at least. It worked, Mom. Lundy tried to stay as far away from us as he could, but he couldn’t go far on the pier and, Mom, he growled at us, and I swear, his teeth got longer.”
I thought about telling Jess that was impossible, but here, who knew?
“When he growled and showed his teeth, everyone...well, the girls, all screamed and the boys laughed at him. So he ran off. Some of the girls started crying.”
“They were babies, Mom,” Tate chimed in. “I didn’t cry.”
“Well, that was brave of you, but I’m sure there are some things that would make you cry that wouldn’t bother those girls at all.” I paused then added, “And you shouldn’t call people names.” Boy, I hoped she wasn’t about to go through the teen stage early. There was no way I could handle dealing with two touchy, moody teenagers.
“Afterward, everyone told Mrs. Murphy about the hair, and she said it was mean. I didn’t intend to be mean. I just wanted him to talk to Nessa since she likes him.” Jessie crossed her arms and stared at the road.
“I know, hon, but allergies are serious. You don’t purposely bring something to someone that you know will make them sick or uncomfortable.”
“With all the rain, there were a lot of puddles and when the girls got upset, they tried to run, and some fell down. They got all wet.”
“And they smell like fish,” Tate said solemnly.
Jessie’s lip quivered and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “So, I ruined it for everyone. And they all looked at me like I was some awful villain like Dr. Evil.”
Not a movie I had wanted Jess to watch, but David let her. She ended up worrying about her breasts turning into missiles or, since she liked science, that she would go bald.
Jess was quiet as we walked toward the lane leading to the cottage. Tate chattered to fill the silence. I mostly nodded. I hoped Jess hadn’t made it so no one would have anything to do with her for the rest of the stay. Girls could be vindictive. Hopefully, they would remember she did it for a good reason, and not to mess things up for everyone. We weren’t too far from our turnoff when something growled.
“Shhh, Tate. I think I heard something.” I’d been in such a hurry to get to the girls that the only thing I grabbed was my bus pass and phone. I just wasn’t thinking, probably since this day had already been a magical mystery tour. The smaller wolf we saw before stalked us. The fur on its back rose so I could almost make out each hair.
“Mom?” Tate took one hand and Jess took the other.
The wolf sniffed the air. When it threw back its head and bayed, we jumped. We carried no weapons, and the wolf blocked the way to the cottage.
“Let’s try backing up,” Jess suggested.
As we eyed the wolf, we took two steps backward. The wolf snarled and trotted closer. I glanced around. Stone walls lined the road. The section nearest to me was boggy. I always warned the girls to avoid that side, not wanting to clean clumps of clingy clay off their shoes. I had a crazy idea.
“Girls, how much of that cat hair do you have?” Dogs and cats don’t like one another, right?
“A lot,” Tate whispered.
Jess nodded in agreement.
“Move slowly toward the wall.”
We sidestepped toward the mire. I reached down, still watching the wolf, and picked up a wad of clay mud. The wolf snarled, but kept its distance.
“Give me all the hair you have.” The girls fished wads of fur from their pockets and passed them to me. I rolled the hair and the clay together, so it was a sticky, furry mess, and then pinched off lumps and gave them to the girls. The hair thickened the clay enough that it held its form.
“Throw it at the wolf.” The girls looked at the clay, the wolf, then me. I knew it might be the dumbest weapon ever, but it was better than nothing. Hopefully, the wolf would run. Maybe the wolf would get a kitty hate on and attack the clay balls. I didn’t care as long as it left my babies alone. “On three! One, two, three!”
We pelted the wolf as hard and fast as we could. Mine and Tate’s missed or barely clung to the wolf’s hide, but Jessie had been on the softball team. She nailed him.
I alternated between forming furry mud balls and handing them to the girls and throwing ones at the wolf. The animal yipped at each hit. It didn’t attack us, but it didn’t run away either. The wolf tried to dodge the missiles. When we ran out of ammo, cat fur and clay clung to its pelt. When the balls stopped coming, the animal tried to shake and bite off the ones adhered, but they were well stuck on. Then the wolf froze, opened its mouth, and loudly sneezed. It pawed at its nose, daubing more hair there. I almost felt sorry for the poor animal. Wheezing, the wolf rolled on the path, then, with a loud snort, it hopped up and ran around in circles yipping and snuffling. We backed away and cowered behind a gnarled oak. Noticing our movement, the wolf ran toward the tree, but had a violent attack of the sneezes just as it reached it so, instead of rounding the tree, it ran headfirst into it. Conk! It staggered, then tipped over.
We looked at each other and laughed.
“That was so funny! Do all wolves act like that around cats?” Tate asked.
“No, honey. I don’t think so.”
Then the wolf’s body seemed to suck in its fur, and, as its body convulsed, we heard cracking noises. As we watched, the animal shifted and changed until Lundy was lying on the ground. Jess turned bright red when she saw he was naked.
Tate tried to get closer, but I held her back. “Wow. He’s like Kay, only he turns into a wolf,” she said.
Tate must have shared her findings about Kay with Jessie since she didn’t question it.
“Let’s give it a few minutes and make sure he isn’t going to change into something else,” I said.
We waited, but the boy remained curled on his side, covered with cat hair and mud.
Tate turned to me. “We can’t leave him here.”
I approached and knelt beside him then poked his shoulder. “Hey,” I said. When he didn’t move, I said it again louder and shook his arm. Suddenly, he turned onto his back. We screamed.
He sat up and blinked at us. “Mrs. Shaw? Jessica, Tate?” He looked around. “Where am I? What happened?”
“We’d like to ask you the same question.”
He sneezed again and again. When he became aware of his nudity, he tried to simultaneously cover his crotch and his mouth.
“Come home with us so you can wash off all that mud and hair.”
Jess took pity on him and handed him her windbreaker. It was short, but covered the important parts. We walked home. I didn’t question the lad on the way. He looked and sounded miserable. We entered the cottage, except for Lundy who stayed outside the door.
The boy tried to step through the doorway, and frowned.
“I can’t get in.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It’s like there’s an invisible wall or some power keeping me from going any farther.”
“The wolfsbane! It must be working.” Jessie went to the door frame and removed a satchel from the top. “There, now try.”
Lundy was able to enter.
“You aren’t going to turn back into a
wolf, are you?” Jess asked.
“I didn’t plan on turning into a wolf earlier.”
Jess shook the satchel at him. “Well, we have more of this and aren’t afraid to use it.”
“Jess! Don’t threaten the guest.”
“Hey, I don’t want to become wolf burger,” she said, but tucked the potion in the cupboard.
I sent him to the shower with a pair of old baggy sweats of mine that I hoped would fit and called Conall since I didn’t know the boy’s number. When Conall answered on the first ring, I put him on speaker while I prepared some food to eat.
I figured the girls were bound to be hungry and teenage boys, from what I always heard, were pretty much insatiable.
“Rebecca? What can I do for you?” Conall asked.
“Actually, I need your help.”
“Oh—” His voice changed into pleased, flirt mode. I rolled my eyes at the girls before I could stop myself.
Jess mouthed, “See?” at me.
“I—I found your nephew on the lane leading to the cottage. He was muddy and sneezing, so we brought him back here.”
“Is he sick?” Conall asked.
“Not exactly,” I hedged. “We kinda threw cat hair on him.”
“Can’t you just brush it off?”
I grimaced. “No, it was a lot of cat hair and it’s kinda stuck on him. Could you let his dad know? Also, it would be wonderful if you could pick him up and take him home.”
Jess pointed at me and her shoulders shook as she tried not to laugh. Tate had given up and ran for the bedroom with her hands over her mouth. I heard her cackle and the bedroom door shut. Jess beat a path to follow her.
“Of course, I can, Rebecca. Anything I can ever do for you, you just ask.”
“Thanks, Conall. There is one other thing—”
“What?”
“Please, call me Becca. Calling me Rebecca makes me feel like I did when my mother was about to chew me out for something.” Now if he wanted me to think of my mother whenever he spoke to me, he would keep calling me Rebecca. If anything good came from this night, hopefully it would be that he would call me Becca. I thought of Greg. He called me Rebecca and yet somehow it didn’t bother me