Oculus

by S. E. Akers

  They dove at my neck with the thrust of a bullet. I clamped my eyes shut, preparing for the harrowing rip of their bite. Then everything went as black as night not a second later. I didn’t feel any pain whatsoever, not even from the gaping wounds on my back or the ones bore into my side. I rose up in a sweat with my arms flapping, completely free from the monster’s clutches and lying on the chaise lounge in my bedroom. I reached my arm around and patted my back with a sharp wince. Not only had Tanner saved me, but he’d also cleansed my wounds and had packed them with salt-water dripping bandages. My moonstone ring was resting on my finger as well. I soon caught the glare of my diamond wand lying fully extended on the table, right beside the oculus. Everything I needed was here…everything except for him. I didn’t have to speculate the first reason for his absence. My stubborn hide already knew what a stupid thing I’d done. Correction — asinine. The only thought vexing me now as I sat here in the courtyard grappling with my painful reflections was just how close I’d come to dying today since he’d had to ice us both with the layria bark.

  I still remembered the span between me and the chimera’s fangs and feeling its hot breaths brush against my neck. Those had to be one in a million odds, maybe more? My emotionally-charged childish course of conduct today hadn’t just dropped my rear into its usual pot of boiling water; this time, it was almost an oven grave.

  With the foulest of shudders, I pulled myself out of my reflective thoughts and then turned my present attention to the thunderous skies above. I should have seen this coming. My head had hit my pillow inundated with a building frustration every night this past week, and the preceding sun-less days should have been my first clue. No matter how many times I peeked out the windows, the skies seemed gloomier and grayer. I’d fought off my emotions for as long as I could, but they were destined to rain down — and they poured with the force of Niagara Falls.

  A wicked bolt charged through the clouds, almost like the sky was attempting to put an exclamation point on my gloomy thoughts for me. Maybe it was the cosmos telling me to get my ass up and that tomorrow was a new day, filled with the hope of a fresh start. Then again, it could simply be closing this chapter of disasters and was ready to begin another. The way I felt right now, I was leery about flipping the next damn page.

  I’d felt Tanner’s eyes on me, beaming down from one of the upstairs windows this entire time, though he never physically made his presence known. His absence earlier coupled with his distance made me wonder what was actually driving my mentor’s stare. Was it anger? Concern? Frustration? Pity? Whatever lay at the root of his watch, I was sort of relieved it didn’t prompt an intrusion. I couldn’t face him after my latest disaster. But I also needed some time to myself, somewhere I could just sit and be for a while that didn’t make me feel like I was smothered in creatures, stone walls, or books.

  My private time soon came to an end when Silas stepped into my view. And of course he came bearing gifts — the perfect excuse to cover his nosey need to snoop. I immediately started dreading his impending performance. The dutiful house steward may be skilled at many things, but feigning interest was definitely not his strong suit; having to listen to it certainly wasn’t my cup of tea either, least of all right now.

  Silas extended a bound black umbrella, dangling the handle on the crook of his finger. “Here you are, Ms. Wallace. This should mask the sting of those cats and dogs . . . at least until you’re mentally ready to fend them off.”

  I directed a glance at my soaked clothes and then rolled my head towards him. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

  “A wise person would take whatever I offer.” Silas gave the umbrella a frivolous flip. “You know, drops of rain can burrow a hole in a stone as deep as any claw or drive from a blade.”

  I shifted my stare back to the fountain and muttered, “That’s true . . . but I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

  A light laugh escaped his lips. “That skin of yours may not show it, but the skies beg to differ.” Silas tilted his umbrella back along with his head, forcing that critical nose of his to take flight. He stretched out his palm and let the rain puddle in his hands. “I told you emotions were very difficult things to grapple with, Ms. Wallace. They all eventually come down, in some form or another.” He discarded the pooling water from his hand with a curt flick. “I doubt the diamond’s former owner ever let his get the best of him. From what I hear about the great Adamas and the staggering count of his successes, he was a true rainmaker.” Silas’ glare washed over me like streams of flesh-eating acid. “But then again, I suppose one could say the very same thing about you.”

  I literally felt the dig of that one hitting me smack in the chest.

  Silas laid the umbrella on the bench beside me and then turned to head back towards the house. His departure could have been a lot swifter and much quieter, in my opinion, but the house steward seemed resigned to keeping his pace at a slow stroll while he whistled Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head.

  I clenched my eyes shut and inhaled a steady breath. Had he seriously forgotten who’d birthed this storm so quickly? Changing his tune to a chorus of the Lightning Keeps Zapping My Ass might serve to shut him up, or at least, get him steppin’ a little faster.

  With my sanctuary now sullied, I conceded my final defeat for the day, collected the umbrella, and headed on into the house. I arrived at my bedroom to find something decorating its doorknob. Now I knew what Tanner had been feeling. Pity… And there hung the purple balloon that was missing from the party.

  I lifted my amethyst pendant off the knob and gently laid it on his across the hall. Seeing it there had left me feeling sour. If I’d needed it, I would have asked. If I’d wanted it throughout my stay, it would have been already strung around my neck. It couldn’t magically erase any of my failures, so why should my mood get a free pass?

  I tossed my wet clothes into the hamper and simply dried off before putting on my pajamas. The thought of taking a bath or shower just made me want to punch a pillow I was so sick of water right now. I crawled into bed, my hair bound tight in a towel, and then nuzzled my head against the pillows as comfortably as I could. My eyes drifted over to the bedside table. I couldn’t imagine how disappointed Daddy would be in me right now…or Bea. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and said a quick prayer that the diamond would leave me alone, if not for just this one evening. The thought of me letting both of them down forced a painful admission. Silas was right. When it came to disastrous attempts, colossal failures, and emotions run amuck, I was a regular “rainmaker”…in regards to EVERYTHING.

  And they have to stop, I affirmed. All of them…

  CHAPTER 11

  I threw open my bedroom door and began my wind up the stairs the next morning, ready to greet a brand new day. I wouldn’t call my ascent an exuberant sprawl by any means, but I felt better. Not great, just better. The diamond had left me alone last night, which helped a lot. It had to have sensed how broken I was feeling. Maybe that was its way of throwing me a bone? Whatever the reason, I was beyond relieved. I’d tried shedding a few tears before drifting off to sleep, hoping to plant a symbolic tombstone on the past week I was burying. After all, who doesn’t feel better after a good hard cry? Even guys? But to my disappointment, not a single salty-drop ever came — neither forced nor on their own. I didn’t know if I should mark a check in the WIN or LOSS column on that one. I couldn’t remember a single time when I hadn’t been able to cry before. The eyes may very well be the “window to your soul”, but they also functioned as your mental toilet bowl’s shiny chrome lever — and I had a lot of crap floating up there that needed a stout flush. But despite the bizarre and unforeseen hiccup, the waterline in my glass was back at its positive horizontal standstill in the middle. Keeping it that way from here on out was going to be a lot tougher, but I was more determined than ever not to let it go all ass-backward again. So with that affirmed, getting a handle on my emotions was first on my list. I couldn’t have my soggy
spirits accidently flooding the entire New England coastline, now could I? And I honestly felt like I could do it all on my own—the way I should—with a hefty dose of willpower instead of any amethyst intervention. I still couldn’t believe he’d hung it on my doorknob. Now there was a less-than-subtle hint. The only thing worse than seeing it dangling there was if he’d crushed it up and tried force-feeding it to me like a toddler strapped in a high chair. Of course the temptation was there as always, whispering its hypnotic troubles-be-gone promises in my ears like a devil lurking at a crossroads. But I was proud of myself for resisting, regardless of what Tanner probably thought. However this was one time when the teacher didn’t know best, whether he liked it or not. I’d made myself perfectly clear about the subject of his blissful intervention masking my woes. Call me a hard-head or not, but it simply wasn’t an option.

  I crept over to one of the front windows in the foyer and ventured a peek. Blue skies, I sighed, utterly relieved. They weren’t exactly what I would call a picturesque shade of azure, but they were daggone blue enough. With a smile on my face, I whipped around and made my way to the dining room. I wasn’t even going to let any of Silas’ jabs bother me today. That was just how high I’d set my bar.

  Tanner seemed more like himself from the moment I stepped into the dining room—excuse me—his old-self from a week ago, attentively standing beside my chair and beaming a smile. I figured my act of shunning his amethyst would be his first topic of discussion, right before his tongue-lashing over my bone-headed stunt with the chimera. But to my complete surprise, my mentor never brought either of them up. In fact, our interaction was so cozy-casual perfect, I thought I’d dreamed up the past six days. Boy was I about to be proven wrong. I’d no sooner raised my fork to bite into my sausage link when Tanner announced he was leaving in a couple of hours and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Proof enough that when your soul decrees its unwavering intentions to the cosmos, it’ll test you like an 8th Grade Math teacher at every turn. The reason behind his abrupt departure was even more bothersome. Malachi Xcavare had requested his presence in New York to discuss several mines he was interested in acquiring. Since Tanner was still Xcavare’s geologist on-retainer and playing the role of double-agent to keep tabs on the unaware supernatural, I completely understood why he had to go. But that didn’t soothe a bit of the sting, especially with today being The Fourth of July — a holiday! Don’t supernaturals take those? You can battle evil creatures and heal people, but can’t set aside some time for a little patriotism? It couldn’t be a foreign concept. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d actually witnessed the Declaration’s signing. He probably even handed Thomas Jefferson an amethyst-inked quill. This was my first Independence Day away from home…and my first of many to come without Daddy.

  I moped back down to my room thinking about what all the day had on its dreary horizon. Sitting around a stuffy dining table alone and cutting into my gourmet burger with a sterling silver knife and fork didn’t sound very “backyard-barbecue” to me. Damn. Now my mouth was watering thinking about my family’s picnic-table spread from years past. I wouldn’t be officiating as the blind-taster for Daddy and Samuel’s rib cook-off, that was certain. Nor would I be in the kitchen fixing the potato salad and laughing at the way those two jokers ragged each other straight up until a winner was announced, supplying all the shade our sunny-celebration needed. Daddy would pull out his old cassette player and blast an entire day’s worth of his favorite Classic Rock tunes across the mountainside. I might actually rouse a few of those nonexistent tears that wouldn’t fall last night if I happened to hear a Journey song playing right now. Today was also one of those few and far between times throughout the year when the terrible-twosome weren’t so terrible. Chloe pitched in by squeezing up some lemonade, which was the limit of her culinary skills. But at least she contributed. Charlotte even subscribed to the role of doting wife for the day by making sure the coolers stayed cold and that Daddy and Samuel didn’t run out of beer — a perfect job for the Ice-Queen. All that tradition was now a thing of the past. That realization was depressing enough, but my bottom lip really fell into the sorriest of sags when I thought about all the fireworks that wouldn’t get shot off. Samuel and Daddy would lug home grocery bags full of them every year. And those two pyromaniacs didn’t get the wimpy ones. They got the “good stuff”, the kind that was guaranteed to light up the mountainside with colorful sprays of spectacular fiery explosions and provided a redneck vasectomy at no-charge if you stood too close. That was my job for the evening — making sure neither of them blew their front or back doors off. Rest assured, fireworks weren’t the only thing “lit” by the time night fell when those two got together. But they never suffered any major injuries, just a couple of burnt fingers over the years. I was always more worried about them setting the whole mountain on fire. Daddy almost did one time. They finally got it contained, but the Fire Marshal still dropped by for an official ass-chewing. He didn’t leave a happy-camper either…not after Samuel threw a roll of firecrackers under his tires as he was driving off. Both their butts got hauled off to jail that night.

  I puttered out a sigh. I’m really going to miss all that.

  Thinking everyone else had to be down in the trenches with me, I piled onto the chaise lounge and plopped the vintage telephone in my lap to make some sympathy calls. My surrogate father was first on my list. Surely he was hurting the most.

  “Hi,” I muttered, sounding as somber as my thoughts.

  “Hey, honey,” Samuel answered. “It’s funny you called. You’ve been on my mind all morning.”

  “Really?” I knew he would be feeling just as blue.

  “You sure were,” he chuckled. “I was thinking about the ribs I made last year.”

  “They were your best yet.” Though if I’d known that was going to be Daddy’s very last cook-off, I would’ve lied and crowned him the winner.

  “You really think so?” he asked.

  I could practically taste the sauce in my mouth. “Definitely.”

  “Then that settles it,” he said.

  “Settles what?” I asked.

  “That’s the recipe I’m using for the cook-off today.”

  I rose up, stunned. “Who are you cookin’ off with?” Don’t say Ms. Marion! Please don’t say her name!

  “The Drive-In’s havin’ a big rib competition today. People have signed up from all over the tri-county area. There’s a thousand dollar cash prize, plus free meals for a year.”

  “That’s an awfully generous pot,” I muttered, rightfully stunned. I loved Charlie to death, but he was pretty tightfisted when it came to money for expenses. A cash-prize contest with “free-eats” had to have been Naomi’s idea. Of course I would already know all about it, if I’d been able to catch up with her.

  “I figured it’s time I go pro,” Samuel bragged.

  “You should,” I agreed. “Daddy wouldn’t want you sitting at home letting your talents go to waste.”

  The conversation turned quiet for a moment, and my perceptive surrogate father picked up on its sentiment, loud and clear. “It won’t be the same, Shi.”

  “I know,” I replied, muffling my sigh.

  “What are you gettin’ into?” Samuel asked, shooting for more upbeat. “Knowin’ you and Katie, I bet you two troublemakers have somethin’ big planned.”

  “Yeah,” I lied with a buoyant bounce. “Friends, good food, and fireworks . . . the same as you. Lots of fun.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said, relieved. Another heavy hush stagnated between us that finally ended with him asking, “Have you been behavin’ yourself?”

  I twisted around in a cringe. I knew exactly what the welder of chastity belts was really wanting to know. “He’s my mentor, Samuel. Talisman-training is the only thing going on here,” I grumped. Hearing that acknowledgement out loud wasn’t the easiest thing on my ears.

  “Oh, I believe you,” he assured. “The truth’s in your tone.”

&nb
sp; We chatted for a few more minutes, right up until Samuel had to start getting his stuff ready to head on down to the Drive-In. I cradled the receiver, feeling a little crabby. I was glad to hear that he had something to do today, but it didn’t change the fact that the backyard Bobby Flay wasn’t missing a beat. I wished my heart could be more immune to nostalgia like his was at times like these. But the widower’s strong façade came from the vast number of years he’d been forced to endure without his wife, and he’d racked up plenty of holidays in the mix of them. My blue eyes couldn’t imagine how much time would have to pass for the sting to go away, whether the occasion revolved around a celebration or was just any old run-of-the-mill weekday. Now there was a scar I wished a moonbeam or sea-salt could heal easily.

  I lifted the phone right back up to my ear and started dialing my bosom friend.

  “Hey, Shi,” Katie answered, sounding winded.

  I heard a bunch of racket in the background. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to get ready,” she replied.

  “Are you working today?”

  “Nope,” she replied, sounding jubilant. “I had the highest sales this week, so I scored the day off.”

  “That’s great,” I said, genuinely jealous. I wished that was all I had to do to earn a break around here. Even if I managed to empty the entire dungeon, there was still a daggone forest of books left to peruse. “So where are you going?”

  “Hitting a couple of festivals with Fergus and Cassie,” Katie revealed.

  Yep. Totally pea green… “What about Bethesda?”