Soul Inheritance

by Honey A. Hutson

  With a great deal of hesitation Mitch had sat her down on the plush couch in his neatly kept home to explain why he never remarried.

  “Your mother didn’t just die in a car accident, Kathy. She was running away.”

  It took a moment to sink in. “Running away from what?” she’d asked, not quite understanding the desperation on his face.

  “With another man, Kathy. She was running away from responsibility, from this family, with a guy she’d been seeing.”

  The emphasis he placed on ‘this family’ was evident, but it wasn’t the time to ask and it never presented itself. Katherine found nothing wrong with her family, except maybe that the two of them was all there was.

  For the first time she realized the blanket she was wrapped in smelled. Tossing it aside she made her way to the bathroom. The hot water ran over her for a long time, easing sore muscles and fatigue. Once it began to get cold she cut off the faucet and climbed out into the steam filled room, thankful for the fogged over mirrors.

  Nigel was milling around in the bedroom, slamming drawers, obviously getting dressed to go out. Two years ago had been the first time they’d included anyone else in their father-daughter plans. Mitch had asked Nigel to go along. It was both surprising and disappointing. Her father explained later he thought she needed to start looking for companions other than him, ‘just in case’. That disturbed her even more, but she took it with a smile and didn’t ask.

  Even then she had doubts about Nigel. He was handsome and popular and she wasn’t sure what his interest in her was exactly. Lately, though, she began to realize his reasoning. It was simple enough. The florist shops made her an asset and a target. He contributed less and demanded more over time. At first she wasn’t inclined to complain, at least she wasn’t alone. It was gradual, dawning on her only when he quit his job and she found herself supporting them both, with his expenses far outweighing her own. Once he dug in and thought his situation to be secure, he grew arrogant and self-involved.

  Lately Katherine had started to think more in the long term. What was she doing with her life, where was she going, where did she want to go? As he grew petulant the threats became borderline physical. Any time he began to question his hold he became more obsessive. Where had she been, what had she been doing? Trying to account for her every movement when he wanted to feel in control. He mistook indecisiveness for weakness and while she avoided confrontation, she was anything but weak. Veiled threats like last night on the balcony were quickly bringing her to the conclusion Nigel and this farce of a life was an anchor to be shed.

  Katherine surveyed herself in the mirror as she hooked silver droplets into each ear lobe. Besides the noticeable bruise and circles around her eyes she was fairly pleased. In the last month she must have lost fifteen pounds and that was never a bad thing. Her long, dark hair framed a fair, oval face and spilled halfway down her back in loose curls. The circles served to darken her green eyes.

  Jeans and a blue shirt finished off the look as she turned from the mirror and slid on white leather sandals with silver decorations of moons and stars. Taking a deep breath she went to the table by the door and gathered her keys and purse.

  Nigel strode from the kitchen, raised his eyebrows, looking her up and down. “You’re going like that?”

  Jaw clinched Katherine swallowed hard. “And just what does that mean? It’s going to be hot and sticky and I’m going to be comfortable. If you don’t like how I look you can just stay here, or better yet, go find one of your friends to hang out with. I’d love some time alone with Dad.”

  Nerves tingling, half expecting him to reach out and grab her by the throat, she turned and stormed out, slamming the door.

  Once she reached the end of the hall Katherine hesitated. There was something about riding in an elevator lined with mirrors that was unsettling. After thinking about it she pushed open the door to the stairwell and started the descent, humming as she made her way down fourteen flights of twisting, rubber coated steps. It was time to pull her head out of the sand and tell Nigel to take a hike. The finality of it felt right, gave her a sort of peace in the chaos. When she emerged at the bottom she was disappointed to find him waiting by the hunter green Jeep.

  The fifteen minute trip to her father’s townhouse dragged by in awkward silence. Mitch was waiting on the steps when they pulled up. He rose and walked toward the car with a smile on his long, lean face. The strong, independent, kind man Katherine had always known lifted the cloud that had settled on the way over. Thoughts of the dreams, of the long nights over the last month dissipated with his spunky demeanor. His hair had been silver-white ever since she could remember, but his brown eyes held an eternal youth that had never wavered.

  “Hey there, how’s my girl?” He kissed her on the cheek through the open car window, then stood back and studied her face. Without asking he got in the back seat.

  “How are ya, Mitch?” Nigel glanced over the seat to look at him as he was settling in, fiddling for the seatbelt buckle.

  “Fine.”

  Katherine glanced in the rear view mirror in time to catch the hostile look her father directed at Nigel, who had already turned away. They rode in silence to the fair grounds at the edge of town, inched through slow moving traffic, and finally turned into the rough field that served as overflow parking.

  Mitch got out and opened the door for Katherine while she was gathering her things.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, taking her hand as she slid out of the vehicle, his voice low and concerned.

  “Yeah, Dad. I’m fine. We’ll talk about it later, over dinner,” she spoke hurriedly, “Nigel’s going out with the boys tonight.”

  “Well, you two gonna stand there all day?” Nigel said, picking his way over the ruts in the field.

  Mitch gave him a hard look. A gentle squeeze of his arm signaled him not to jump to conclusions. At first he had liked Nigel, but he hadn’t failed to see how his attitude toward his only daughter had changed.

  “Come on Dad, what should we do first?” They walked arm in arm over the uneven ground. When Nigel reached for the other hand she was able to avoid him by leaning toward her father. With a huff he ended his efforts.

  The three of them stood in the long, hot line. The air was thick and muggy and her exhaustion showed with every bead of sweat that worked to wash away her carefully placed makeup. Finally making it to the narrow ticket window Katherine peered through the grimy Plexiglas.

  “Three adult all day tickets.”

  A short, stout man peered back at her through the small hole in the glass. He seemed somehow familiar, though she didn’t know why. Nigel stepped in, took her arm, moved her to the side.

  “Thirty-two dollars,” the short man grumbled, stretching toward the hole to be heard. Nigel paid and was immediately lost in the crowd.

  “Did he finally get a job?” Mitch asked, brows raised.

  “No, he didn’t.” Katherine wondered how much he’d taken out of the ATM this time and made a mental note to cancel the card on Monday. “That’s okay; let him enjoy it while he can,” she smiled at her father, who smiled back.

  “It’s about time.”

  The crowd moved them toward the turnstiles and up to the red aluminum gates that flanked each side of the ticket booth. There Mitch offered up his hand to be stamped. Katherine followed suit as she had every year since she could remember. An icy, wet hand grasped hers tightly. Startled she shifted her attention from her father to the long fingers, gray with talon like claws. The stamp held in its other hand dripped of a thick red liquid, much like her head the night before. Strangely it was not the claw that alarmed her, but the sight of blood.

  “What the hell…” she looked up to see the face from the night before, but only for a moment. As she backed into the person behind her the view changed. It faded like the dreams sometimes did. The image morphed and warped until it
transformed into a tall, thin man with a mustache and goatee. He glared belligerently at them.

  “Come on lady, it’s just a little ink for Christ’s sake. It washes off.” He gave a grunt, roughly pressed the stamp into the back of her hand and let go. “Next.”

  Katherine stumbled forward with help from an impatient Italian-looking woman.

  “Are you okay? We don’t have to do this today, honey.” Mitch took her by the arm, pulled her out of the flow of traffic.

  “No, I’m okay. Just a little tired, that’s all. I haven’t been sleeping. And I’ve been…” she looked back at the attendant, then to her father.

  Mitch’s brow furrowed. “Been?”

  “Well, I’ve been seeing things,” she paused. “You know, in dreams, while I’m sleeping. It causes me not to sleep good. Afraid I’ll dream I guess, or, or…” she realized she was rambling.

  “What kind of dreams?”

  Katherine stared blankly. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but rational acceptance of what must sound irrational was not it.

  “Can we talk about this over dinner? Please, I just need to have a good time with my Dad.” The suck up almost always worked. Mitch studied her before he answered.

  “Just tell me one thing first.”

  Shrugging she looked up into the eyes of a concerned father.

  “I’ve never known you to lie to me. Not even as a kid. Don’t start now.” She shot him an indignant look. “Did Nigel do this?” He swept her carefully arranged hair aside, gently stroked his thumb over the edge of the bruise and winced at the gash.

  “No, Dad. He didn’t.” From his expression she thought he’d been hoping it had been Nigel. It seemed strange, but she took her father’s hand and smiled weakly. “This is our thing. Every year we do this and have a blast. Nothing’s gonna ruin it. You never know when it might be the last time.” A strange, puzzled expression crossed her face as she looked into her father’s eyes. “Oh, God, dad. I don’t know why I said that.”

  Concern flashed over his features, then relaxed into a grin. “Its okay, it’s true.” He turned and led her toward the gallery.

  Time passed easily with games of goldfish toss, which no one really wanted to win, except perhaps the littlest children who really wanted the fish; dart throwing, Ferris Wheels, cotton candy and all the funnel cake they could stand. As the evening ebbed toward dusk the rides, games and tents became outlined in strings of orange lights. They had made their way through most of the carnival without ever spotting Nigel. That kind of luck just couldn’t last. Sure enough, he appeared out of the darkening evening like the unwelcome insects.

  “Hey, there you guys are, having fun?”

  “Yea, a great time, but I think we’re about licked. How ‘bout you?” Mitch smiled brightly at Nigel, but got a frown in return.

  “Actually, I’m not ready to go. I’ve run into some friends.”

  “That’s okay; you’re supposed to go to Ricky’s anyway. We’ll just go on,” she spoke too quickly, but it no longer mattered. His time was up.

  “Well, I guess. We should do something together before you go.” Directing the statement to Mitch was so obviously intentional that it made Katherine steam inside, but she remained smooth and calm on the surface. After all he only wanted to get at her.

  “What do you want to do?” Mitch directed the question to Katherine.

  “There’s this tent,” Nigel interrupted, “down near the exit, an exhibition tent. Let’s do that.” He had all the energy and enthusiasm of a child. Katherine nodded her agreement and followed, too tired to care.

  The ornately decorated tent was reminiscent of a gothic style. Royal Blue fabric was edged in black embroidered Celtic designs and flowed loosely to the ground. The entire structure was lined in tiny white lights. Just as she realized where they were a tall, middle-aged woman stepped from between the parted flaps. He knew how these kinds of things gave her the creeps, it was a cheep shot. Worst of all her father would be pissed. He’d always warned her against these sort of people.

  As her eyes came to rest on the woman, however, she was awe struck. An incredibly lovely creature with sharp features and dark olive skin stood before her. The gypsy’s golden amber eyes seemed to see straight into Katherine’s essence. Her honeyed voice reached out and pulled her toward the opening. The layers of purple and rose silk she wore rustled and her dangling bracelets and jewelry jingled as she glided into the depths of the tent.

  “I’ve been expecting you, Katherine. Please, sit.” Her long black hair swayed as she turned, showing shimmering strands of silver mixed into its glossy folds. In the back of her mind Katherine knew this should be unsettling, but there was an assurance in the woman. Just as a spider seemed assured of its next meal. Like the insect caught in the web, she was unable to resist.

  Mitch and Nigel exchanged surprised and uncertain glances, followed the women into the candle lit room. The gypsy sat at her table draped with green velvet, laid her hands one on top the other and observed Katherine. Completely disregarding the men she began to speak in her deep, soft voice.

  “I’ve awaited this meeting for a long time. It’s a mixed blessing. A relief to say what I must, but I know it also sets off a series of frightening things for you. I’m truly sorry. If I don’t do as he wishes I’ll continue to suffer and he’ll find another. If I deliver his message I go free.” Katherine sat listening as if entranced. Mitch started to fidget, growing more uneasy by the second. He scooted closer to her as if he might be preparing for a quick exit. Nigel seemed to be enjoying their discomfort.

  The gypsy reached out and took her hands; spreading them palms up.

  “Your life line is long, your love line inconsistent and ever changing. There are many paths to choose from, but be careful, chose wisely, think each through. What seems to be isn’t always what is, and what is isn’t always what it seems.”

  “Ah, here we go with the riddles,” Nigel interrupted, leaning forward on the table. “How’d you know her name?”

  The woman did not acknowledge him, but continued.

  “In our travels we passed through your homeland. Not where you grew up, but where you are truly from. I was drawn out and given the burden of seeking you. You must find the truth about yourself, your family, your heritage. That heritage is the key to the rest. Your soul was cleansed at the end of the last cycle, you start anew, the power they want is intact, but you’re not theirs. They want you for the potential you hold. If you die it starts over, you must fight it here, in this life.”

  Mitch now grew agitated. “No, don’t do this.” He took Katherine’s arm. “Come on, let’s go. She’s nuts, we’ve gotta go. Now!”

  For the first time in her life Katherine was unable to obey, staring at the teller.

  “You know. You’ve seen the lake, the house, the forest in the north. In your dreams. Just as I’ve seen you in the dreams that we have shared every night.”

  The drive to get up and leave was strong. She wanted to run, not to know. But she had to stay, to listen, to try and understand. Mitch’s reaction gave it away. What was it he said about never lying to him? Now she looked at him, saw it in his aging eyes as he pleaded.

  “Please, Kathy, let’s just go.” He tugged at her arm again.

  Ignoring his plea’s she turned back to the gypsy. “What is it I need to know?”

  “That there’re terrible, terrible secrets in your past, in his past. You must return to fix it. The place you have been visiting is real. You must face its guardians, your family’s keepers.” She grimaced as if in pain. “It wants the only heir, to start over and rebuild. You must know the past; therein lies your strength. In you lies a purified power that it’ll do anything to get at. Prepare for the worst. Expect it to try everything to get what it wants.”

  The woman grimaced again, clutching her head. Katherine knew she was skirting as close to t
he truth as she could without upsetting ‘it’ or ‘him’.

  “You must go, but be careful of those closest to you. They’re the pawns.” She looked directly at Nigel. “They’ll lead in the wrong direction and distract you.” She shifted to Mitch with ever-growing anguish. “You must help her while you can.”

  Leaning on the table for support she rose. Nigel leaned forward with money in his hand, but she waived him away.

  “I don’t want your money.” She made her way through a curtain at the back of the tent and was gone.

  Katherine turned to her father. “Have you ever lied to me, dad?”

  “No,” his reply was immediate, hurried. He looked down at his hands, swallowed hard, hesitated, “You never asked.”

  Chapter two

  The scent of a coming storm hung heavy in the air as Mitch and Katherine walked in silence through the rutted field.

  “I guess we have a lot to talk about,” Mitch took her by the arm, turned her to face him. “I was only trying to protect you. You’re right what you said before, about not knowing when time would run out. You need to know.” He smiled, stroked her face as he had when she was a child. “It’ll be okay, I’ll make it okay.”

  “I know.” She felt like that child, cowering in the dark. Saved over and over by daddy from imaginary monsters. Now the question was: Were they really imaginary?

  “I have to run by the house before dinner. I’ve got some things for you. Things I’ve waited a long time to show you.”

  Mitch held the door for her, then circled around the other side and climbed in. Katherine didn’t know what to say, what to ask, where to begin. They rode in strained silence until they turned onto Sycamore Street.