Oculus

by S. E. Akers

  My patience was wearing thin as I shifted in my spot, tapping my feet on the floor. I practically sprang across the room when the alarm bells finally rang in my head fifteen minutes later. Then I paced in front of the door for another minute to make sure the coast was good and clear. I started to turn the knob when another bell rattled my noggin. Now he was going back into his room. I even heard the door close.

  Did he forget something? I pressed my ear to the door, anxiously waiting for some sort of revealing movement. The alarm’s call came again before long and then I started counting off YET ANOTHER SIXTY SECONDS. My countdown-clock hadn’t come close to winding down to zero when that damned infernal alarm bell was blaring in my head again.

  What the heck is he doing? My arms locked into a fold at my waist, feeling awfully agitated. And the bells didn’t stop their nagging toll. I finally had to concede that there were still plenty of moonlit hours left to do the deed after ring number “twelve”. With that decision rendered, I flung myself on the chaise lounge and picked up the phone to give Katie a call. My fingers whirled around the wheel, feeling rather feisty. I would have traded my invisibility for some enlightening X-Ray vision if given the choice right now. I couldn’t have cared less about the grapevine. Between the erratic “dings” and not knowing what he was doing out there, I was quickly reaching the end of my mental rope.

  I waited through the rings, praying she would answer and be more available to talk this time. I couldn’t deal with another quickie conversation like we’d had last night. I missed talking to her like we used to. It kind of made me long for the days when she was helplessly trapped in a rock two inches above my boobs.

  “Hey!” Katie yelled.

  I could tell she was out and somewhere loud from the music in the background. Crap. I could already feel our chat coming to a swift end.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “At the Hatch Shell. One of the guys from work invited me to a concert,” Katie hollered.

  “Are you on another date?” I teased.

  “Hang on a second,” Katie said and returned a minute later. “I had to get out of ear-shot . . . and yes, I am. His name is Luke. He just moved here from Melbourne — Australia.”

  I smiled, picking up every spark of excitement in her voice. A guy with an accent was Katie’s undoing. In fact, both the United Kingdom and Australia held the top two spots on her “Places-to-Travel” list. I secretly feared she would visit either of them one day…and never want to come back.

  “Say no more,” I laughed.

  “What did you do this evening?” Katie yelled into the phone.

  “Movie on the sofa.”

  “What movie?” she asked.

  I wrestled a lump out of my throat. “Scarface.”

  If it weren’t for the band in the background, I would have sworn our call had dropped. “You’re kiddin’?” she hollered.

  “You know I can’t make this stuff up,” I said flatly.

  Katie breathed out a foul sigh. “Please tell me SOMETHING came out of sitting through that crap.”

  “Oh, yeah . . . I got a lesson on the importance reading people and discovering their weakness.”

  “Does the teacher gig ever stop?”

  “Apparently not,” I grumbled.

  “So what are you doing now?” Katie asked.

  “Getting ready for bed,” I lied. It sounded better than the truth about my secret rendezvous with some grapevines in a garden. The Scarface admission was depressing enough.

  “Can’t you come to Boston for a visit, please?” my bosom friend pleaded. “I really miss you.”

  I hadn’t asked Tanner about a trip to see Katie, mainly because I thought I should have banished at least one monster first. I saw it as a reward — my own little victory celebration. But at the rate I was going, I would have to use her birthday as an excuse. And that wasn’t until September.

  A pang hammered my heart like the strike of a kettledrum. “I miss you too,” I confessed, “but I’m not sure when I can.”

  “Hey, Luke is waving me back over. I’ve got to go, but promise me you’ll ask Tanner about a visit, okay?”

  “I promise.” That one was up in the air and could honestly fall either way if the right time ever presented itself. I started to tell her “bye” when a curious thought popped into my head. “Katie — Wait! What perfume are you wearing?”

  “I’m losing signal,” she yelled. “Shi? Shi? You’re breaking up . . .”

  “That’s NOT what you’re supposed to be using it for!” I fussed.

  “If you can hear me . . . I love you, and I’m hanging up now — Bye!”

  I dropped the receiver back on its cradle, head shaking and seeing a little red. Yep. That’s what I thought… Ruby Lust Potion No. 9.

  It had only been a few minutes since I’d heard the last alarm, so I figured I would go ahead and carve out a diamond to kill a little more time. It actually turned out to be my biggest to date (considering the testiness of my current demeanor), hacked straight out of my right thigh. The air stones were less of a pain to procure. All I had to do was connect with each of the stones’ signature essences and then blow a round of gusts into my palm. I eyed the little air stones proudly, specifically the dime-sized lapis lazulis. They’d come a long way. Kamya would be impressed.

  My patience was officially spent at a quarter till one. I rushed towards the door and threw it open, with my cover story of “having the munchies” ready to fire off. Thankfully Tanner wasn’t in the hall, nor did his door show the first signs of flying open.

  Finally, I sighed. Invisibly, I hurried up the stairs to the main house. The lights had been dimmed, and there wasn’t a soul stirring — downstairs, that is. I stopped at the staircase leading up to the second floor. Silas was up there singin’ away like I’d heard him the other night. It actually sounded like he was blowing his lips across the mouth of an old jug with a backup choir of whiny frogs. Then again, I didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to carrying a tune. But I was secretly thrilled to find someone whose sucky vocals ran neck-and-neck with mine.

  I charted my course for the kitchen, en route to the back door. Silas kept a gathering basket hanging on the wall beside it, which was perfect for collecting all the vines I needed. The door came to a slow close behind me. A familiar rhythm stirring the air had me planted on the stoop under the eave. Scores of crickets were chirping their unmistakable yo-yoing serenade; their melody loud enough to drown out the waves breaking against the shore down below. The sporadic flashes of yellow-green igniting the landscape were equally as stirring. I’d always loved watching the fireflies light up the night in their own magical way ever since I was a young girl and still did. A warm feeling flooded my insides. Standing here reminded me of being back home in West Virginia and looking out at our own backyard. I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Even the salty air wafting all around held a lingering trace of reminiscent pine that was pleasing. I immediately started thinking about Charlotte and Chloe — what they were doing at this very second. I couldn’t imagine them wondering the same thing about me. Neither of them had called the first time. Of course other than sending them a text that I’d arrived in Boston several weeks ago, I hadn’t gone out of my way with any attempts either. But I missed them. I truly did. This was the longest I’d ever gone without seeing them, beating my record of two weeks when I was eleven and away at a summer camp. Now I felt horrible. I could foresee a couple humble and hopeful calls in my near future.

  I gave my head a chastising shake as I stepped off the back stoop. Who needs and emerald when you’ve got guilt?

  I weaved through the meticulously nurtured rows, headed for the trellis. I wasn’t surprised to find the section I’d smashed seamlessly repaired and not the first vine twisted or any evidence of mushy grapes lying on the ground. As soon as I wrapped up this project, I was going to start doubling my efforts when it came to finding out what was hiding up the sleeves of the house steward’s crafty
hands. Then that would bring my mental-count of things driving me nuts down to only one-thousand.

  I hadn’t given a pair of pruning sheers a second thought, so I went to hacking the vines piece by piece with my fingernails. I was merrily cutting away when an eerie sensation struck my back like the pound of a sledgehammer. The feeling was undeniable. I was being watched. I stopped slicing and casually lowered my hands to my sides. A few branches cracked in the distance, urging my eyes to scan the perimeter. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary—nothing supernatural or monster-like by any means—only a lone bat hanging from the limb of a tree. I watched the nocturnal creature for a moment. Its presence seemed harmless enough.

  Yeah, they’re okay until your moonstone ring comes up missing, my inner voice called. Aiming for cool, I decided it might be best to whip out my diamond blade — strictly to speed the cutting along. After two quick chops, I had enough grapevine for ten dreamcatchers. I crammed what I’d whacked off into the basket, secured it in the bend of my arm, and then strolled a steady path back to the house, wand still extended and swinging right along with my steps.

  My unflappable swagger broke as soon as I landed on the back stoop. I lowered my blade and threw open the door with a jerk. I must have looked pretty cool charging inside like my tail was on fire too. I’d no sooner closed the door when a swarm of bats exploded out of the trees. I peered up into the night sky as I holstered my hilt, trying to count every last one before the blackness devoured them all. So it seemed there were more than just one pair of eyes on me, in fact, roughly about a hundred of the beady little buggers. And considering the wards placed around the house, I knew just who’d sent them in their stead to spy on me.

  I stepped away from the door as I whipped around, only to find Silas staring me dead in the eyes.

  “Shit!” I gasped, almost dropping the basket when I jumped back. Though Silas never said a word, those moss-green peepers were postulating suspicions with every heated second their lids didn’t blink.

  I snatched a handful of grapes out the basket and shoved them into my mouth, stems and all. “I was hungry,” I said through my crunchy chews and forced them down with a bitter grimace.

  Silas nodded towards the refrigerator. “Then why didn’t you get the ones out of the crisper?”

  “I like them fresh,” I snapped. After a hasty pivot, I charged straight for the door and never looked back.

  “You know those aren’t ripe,” he called out with a queasy roll.

  Yeah, I’d already found that out, right along with the stems I swallowed… And a good bit of dirt… And who knows what else.

  The antique clock beside my bed was chiming its second useless chorus before I knew it. Without a doubt, tourmalines could be the next Red-Bull. I just wished my borrowed hours could have been a little more productive. The diagram of the dreamcatcher in Bea’s grimoire was decent enough to go by, but an actual pattern would have been way more practical. It just started looking like a web thirty minutes ago. Sadly, the rhythm I’d found had come to an end. I needed to squeeze in some time to finish it before my head hit the pillow tonight. A diamond may last forever, however, a tourmaline most certainly would not. I felt like a ticking time bomb, nervously wondering how long I had until its effects wore off.

  All throughout breakfast I waited for Tanner to ask me why I was out in the garden last night, but the question never crossed his lips. And if that wasn’t baffling enough, Silas’ steady silence was downright mind-boggling. He never uttered the first crack. I didn’t know if I should go ahead and thank my lucky stars or start sweatin’ in my boots. Regardless of how grateful I felt, I couldn’t stand the thought of owing him.

  Though I paid attention to every word Tanner breathed throughout my morning lessons, my brain was split down the middle; one half absorbed his lectures while the other couldn’t think of anything else but getting that dreamcatcher finished. I still had to find something that represented “my fears” and time was running out. The only reason I’d avoided any visions last night was because I couldn’t fall asleep. Of course I probably would have cried if my forty winks came and went without any distressing diamond-interruptions. That would mean the togwart had actually worked. I’m sure Tanner had a bottle of it somewhere amongst his unlabeled collection of brews downstairs, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of another swig nor asking that suspicious head of his where it was.

  Imagine my surprise when kismet came smiling down on me during the creature portion of my morning lessons. Tanner had just revealed that the pieces you hacked off a beast would remain in our realm even after they were banished and provided a little Show-and-Tell when he pulled out his collection of dragon talons and monster claws. Apparently there was a big black market for creature parts—their blood, skin, horns, claws, & venom—and their effects were just as hazardous as if the monsters were still attached to them. Little did he know that two of his battle souvenirs were about to become the final touches on my witchy masterpiece. Honestly, what good were they doing him hidden away in a chest down in his library? They needed to be put to some good use.

  We headed outside after lunch for a few more hours of flight training. I soon discovered a second obstacle when trying to fly the friendly skies. There wasn’t as much cloud cover as yesterday, and unfortunately, the sun made a huge difference. Shades would have helped. I’d avoided the wrath of its halo the first couple hours, but my successful run came to an abrupt end when I caught a blinding dose of its sunny rays while dodging a flock of seagulls. I didn’t realize how one false move up there could throw a person off course so quick and crazy until I found myself halfway down the cliff and headed for a cluster of jagged rocks. I may have landed on my feet, but a nasty wave smacked me down on my butt as I was about to take off. A hardy round of bubbly laughter rose from the foam when it had struck, letting me know real quick who had served up that sneaky wet spanking. I even saw her head bobbing in the surf not too far from shore as I took off — the bitch. Between Lorelei, Silas, and the monsters, my mental swear jar was steadily reaching its maximum capacity. The only glass-half-full thing I could say about that aggravating truth was that I hadn’t been forced to cash in any F-bomb dollars just yet.

  But I could feel a fierce one brewing and knew its eruption was only a matter of time if my butt didn’t buck up soon.

  With me soaked and ready to quit while I was ahead (I’d only crashed twice), Tanner suggested taking a break from lectures and flying for the day. I pounced on that offer, eager to work on my dreamcatcher. It took me the rest of the afternoon to finish assembling it. But as soon as I’d tied my last knot, I laid that thing down on the table like a kid would their popsicle-stick creation for the teacher to hand them a gold star. I thought I’d done a pretty decent job, even if it did look a little creepy with the claws.

  I even added a rabbit’s foot for luck. Katie had purchased one for me at a convenience store on our trip up. She had it hanging on my Charger’s rearview mirror as a surprise when I hopped back in from pumping gas. She thought I could use it, despite it partially being a cutesy joke. I’d never put it on my key ring simply because I didn’t need a sad-but-true reminder of my mishaps. Besides, it really didn’t work out that well for the rabbit. Though after considering I needed as much of Lady Luck’s grace as I could score when it came to these visions, I figured, “What the hell?” and slapped it on there with a few tight knots.

  I’d just finished hanging my creation on the center beam of the canopy when someone knocked on my door. I hopped down off the bed and then made sure no one could see it looking at eye-level before I answered it. To my relief, the drop on the sides of the canopy hung low enough to conceal the dreamcatcher completely.

  I could feel my mentor’s blissful presence as I pulled back on the knob. “Yes?” I teased peeking out the cracked the door.

  Tanner pursed his lips into a crooked smile. “You’ve been in there reading all afternoon. Are you planning on having dinner sent to your room?”
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  He couldn’t have walked into that one more perfectly. “No,” I assured with a brazen gleam. “Are you?”

  Tanner stepped closer and grasped the edge of the door. “Not without a good reason,” he said, eyeing me intently.

  My eyes sharpened their focus. A “good reason”? Though his persistence was initially ruffling, I detected a familiar rationale hiding behind his words that was comforting. After all, who was I to judge someone when it came to omissions or evading? I didn’t do it for sport, and I especially hated resorting to lying. But there always happened to be a good enough reason that seemed more than valid at the time.

  I simply smiled and headed up the stairs—content enough for now—knowing that was as close to an explanation as I was going to get. A flea would starve to death from that sorry scrap. But his staunch silence on the matter did provide a little consolation. Now I could honestly say I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about switching his plate last night at dinner anymore.

  The menu Silas prepared was as snide and on par as ever. I should have taken it as a bad sign when the crystal bowl that normally contained fresh-cut flowers was missing from the center of the table. I inspected the towering pile of colorful grapes along with its strategically-placed cascades of vines and leaves spiraling around the whimsical arrangement. I honestly felt like I was standing here just as physically bound and gagged in their coil. I knew he couldn’t keep his trap shut for long. He’d obviously been cookin’ this one up all day and it was real subtle.

  Tanner immediately noticed the switch as well. How could he not with it stacked as high as a daggone wedding cake? He nodded to the arrangement as he took his seat. “What’s up with the grapes?” he probed. “There’s enough here to stomp out a case of wine.”