“Good! Let’s get about securing this house.” She said and grabbed an old jelly jar filled to the brim with rusty colored dust.
I followed Cora out the screen door and joined her on the backyard. She stared at the house in silence for a few moments before unscrewing the top of the jar and charging toward it. She shook the jar leaving a smooth unbroken line of rusty dust along the doorframe then moved across the edge of the house similarly marking each windowsill. I followed her as she circled the entire house methodically dusting every possible passage.
When she’d finished, she went back inside carefully stepping over the line marking the back door.
“What is that stuff?” I asked hesitantly, since Cora had offered no explanation.
“Brick dust” she said in a matter-of-fact manner, “bars the passage of evil.”
An icy shiver ran the length of my spine.
Cora moved to the kitchen counter and began opening the jars. From them she drew dark shriveled items and smooth white bones. She carried these items through the house, humming as she walked, and placed them on shelves and mantels. When she’d finished, she made her way back to the kitchen and retrieved a jar that looked like it was filled with water. She dipped her fingertips into the jar and shook them sending droplets spraying over the floor. As she walked through the house she continued to hum and sprinkle, hum and sprinkle.
The rest of that day was a blur. I felt confused and afraid. I’m sure I ate, I’m sure I dressed, but all I really wanted to do was sleep. Sleep with the hope that when I woke up the nightmare would be over.
But when I did sleep instead of drifting further from the nightmare, I fell ever deeper inside it.
I dreamed that I wandered down a dark country road. Deep forest lined the path and from the sound of the night around me, I knew that I was headed into swampland. I wanted to stop but my legs kept carrying me forward further into the darkness.
The road ended in water. Black water stretched out before me reflecting a clouded moon like a mirror fogged by steam. In the weak moonlight I could make out the silhouettes of swamp trees. Their strait graceful trucks towering above the bulging roots that dove into the watery depths.
I looked down, into the water. A shriek caught in my throat. Beyond the glittering black surface, my mother’s face stared back at me, frozen in terror. Her hands stretched toward me, the fingertips just breaking the glassy surface.
Suddenly, cold fingers gripped my arms and pulled me off my feet toward the water. I fought paralyzing fear to scream.
“No, no, nooo!”
Beyond my own frantic screaming, voices swarmed around me. They were chanting. What were they saying?
A whisper trickled into my ear, "Eliza, join us."
My feet sank into the cold water and slimy tentacles slithered around my ankles and up my legs pulling me deeper.
Mercifully, my body juiced with adrenaline shot to life. I was cold, shaking and sweating. The power of the nightmare was so intense that it made me physically sick.
The door cracked. Startled, I pulled my face from the pillow and gazed sheepishly at Cora standing in the doorframe.
"What happened, child?" Her dark face was a mask of concern.
The memory of the night terror was still so fresh that it was difficult to speak.
"I had a nightmare." I whimpered pitifully.
She crossed the room. A grim expression spreading across her face, she sank onto the bed beside me.
"Can you tell me about your dream? Eliza, it's important you tell me about it." She demanded as if we were dealing with a problem more serious than just a nightmare.
The tone of her voice and the way she squinted at me, like she’d spied a black widow spider on my shoulder, sent a hot wave of nausea rolling over me. Without thinking, I blurted it all out, recounting every detail I could recall.
Cora frowned as she listened studying my face.
After a few pensive moments, she rose from the bed and motioned for me to follow her. She plodded down the stairs and headed directly to the back of the house and into the kitchen. She opened cabinets and drawers pulling various items from each. I watched her work with curiosity.
"I know how to send bad dreams away." She said determinedly.
I watched her use twine to tie some feathers and what looked like small bones together. Then she connected them to form a circle. She repeated the process over and over again until she had a pile of nets. She handed them over to me.
We started in the living room at the front of the house. Cora mumbled something low and musical under her breath as she hung one of the nets on each window like a Christmas ornament. I followed her around the house as she proceeded to adorn every window, humming the whole time.
When we finished, she towed me back to the kitchen and headed straight for the pantry. She pulled out a jar of what looked like flour. She sat down across from me at the kitchen table and reached for my hands. I offered them, weakly. She closed her eyes and silently traced the lines on my palms with her thumbs. Then she sprinkled the powder on my palms and rubbed it into my skin. She rose and gently touched my temples and the top of my head. I blinked as the white powder fell on my eyelashes. I sat silently waiting for her to say something I would understand.
After a few minutes of reverent silence, she opened her eyes and smiled.
"There now, it's goin’ be fine. Eliza, you won’t be havin’ any more bad dreams.” She reassured me.
Mustering courage, I asked the question that burned in my heart.
“Cora, what happened to my mother? Please tell me.” My voice shook. Cora may have led the sheriff to believe that my mother left me behind, but by the way she was behaving, I knew that wasn’t the case.
Cora inhaled deeply before answering.
“That’s a hard question to answer, child. I don’t rightly know exactly where she’s gone or how she got there. But she called me in for a reason, to protect you, until she gets back. And that’s what I’m goin’ do, best I know how.” She said gravely.
Then drawing herself up in her chair added, “Child, someday, you will have to face the things that frighten you. There will come a time when all this confusion goin’ sort out, then you’ll understand more ‘bout your mama, more ‘bout yourself. Don’t you worry any about that today. You’re a strong girl and when that time comes, you’ll be brave, won’t you?” She pressed.
I nodded in response, though I didn’t feel very brave.
The next two nights were calm and dreamless. But on the third night, I woke with a start to Cora's voice. It was still dark in my room and I had a feeling that I hadn’t been asleep very long.
"Wake up, child, wake up." The urgency in her voice was unnerving.
After all I had been through, I couldn't bear to have my last thread of sanity shaken. I sat up in bed.
"Eliza, listen to me, child. It's time for you t’ go." She whispered sternly.
"Go?" I balked.
"I been feelin’ your nightmare comin’ back, lookin’ for a way inside. It won’t be long b’fore it breaks through.” She said.
"But… I need to be here. What about my mother? How will she find me?" I begged feeling as if I’d found myself in the middle of a new nightmare.
“Eliza, your mama wants you to be safe. You’re too young to be messin' with this business. Child, you must go. We’ll call your Auntie Jane. You can stay with her awhile." Cora said decidedly.
I was surprised to hear Jane’s name. And surprised that Cora even knew about her.
Cora gently pulled me up off my bed and led me down the stairs. She dialed and spoke quietly to Jane. From their conversation, I knew it wasn’t the first time they’d spoken. Then she handed the receiver to me.
Jane’s voice was light and soothing. And after her coaxing, I agreed to go to her. The next day, I climbed on a plane, flew out of Moco and into a new life.
4
The sound of a key in the door startled me. It had grown dark outside and I hadn
’t turned on any lights yet. I shook my head struggling to return to the present. Jane burst in and jumped when she saw me sitting on the couch in the dark.
"Oh Eliza, I'm sorry, were you asleep there? You surprised me!" She said with nervous curiosity.
I recognized Adam's dark profile behind her in the hall. "Hey, Eliza." He said cheerfully.
Adam was soft-spoken, gentle, and incredibly loyal. I knew that he didn’t hold me responsible for the limits Jane imposed on their relationship. I hadn’t seen him since their last tiff and it was nice to hear his voice.
"Hey, Adam. Yeah, I got sick at school and came home early. Guess I fell asleep out here." I mumbled haltingly.
Oh, where to start?
Jane flipped on the lights that lined the bare industrial ceiling and analyzed my face suspiciously.
"Oh, hon, you don't look good. Have you been crying?" She asked as she rushed toward me.
Adam lingered in the doorway, assessing the scene. "Jane, I'm gonna get going. Eliza, it's good to see you kid. I hope you feel better."
Concern flickered across his face as he backed out the door. "Call you later, Janie."
Jane glanced back at Adam, giving him a thank-you-for-understanding look.
“Thanks, Adam. Love you." She called after him.
Adam's face lit up around a sheepish smile. "Love you too, Janie." He said before he slipped out, quietly closing the door behind him.
Jane's forehead crinkled as she studied my face.
"What happened? Why are you so upset, babe?" She asked.
So much for hoping I just looked sick. An involuntary reaction, I reached out and buried my face in her shoulder. Her sweater smelled like the sea. The sea, musky perfume and just Jane comforted me.
When I didn't let go after a few minutes, she asked lightly, "What if we talk about it over hot chocolate?"
I nodded with my face still buried against her. Reluctantly, I released her and we both headed for the kitchen. I climbed onto a barstool as Jane pulled ingredients from a cabinet…cacao, sugar, salt, and cinnamon.
"I want to talk about my mother." I said shakily.
I’d come to Port Rune with the understanding that I was only staying with Jane temporarily, until my mother was back. Cora had sent me away with the assurance that if my mother could be helped, she’d provide it, but my place was with Jane, far away from the troubles of Moco. At first, the sheriff called regularly to report on the case, though nothing was ever found. As the weeks, then months passed by the situation grew hopeless. It was when a year had passed that Jane decided to renovate her loft to make a permanent bedroom for me. By then, I’d lost hope in Cora’s ability to bring my mother back and eventually the sheriff informed us that there wasn’t much else he could do. Jane and I had grown close and I was happy living with her. We talked about my mother less often and eventually, we stopped talking about her altogether. And though she was never far from my mind, the pain of missing her had quieted like a hibernating beast.
But now, with Ren’s arrival, that pain had woken it up.
Jane paused before hesitantly glancing my way. Her reaction confirmed that the topic of my past was as uncomfortable for her as it was for me.
"Mmm, what do you want to know?" She asked cautiously.
"I want to know what you thought of me, what you know about what happened in Moco. I want to know everything." If I was going to face my past, I needed to gather all the information possible to move forward.
Jane stared thoughtfully into the pot of hot chocolate she stirred on the stove before speaking.
"Ok.” She said pensively as she inspected my face.
“I suppose you’re old enough to know now, Eliza. I guess I expected you to ask one day.” She conceded with a sigh before continuing.
“Well, I wasn't shocked when I got the call from Cora, surprised, but not shocked. Everything was just such a mess down there. I was so angry with your mom. I’m sorry to tell you this, babe, but it’s the truth. I just couldn’t believe she did that to you. You probably don’t know this, but the police called me a couple days after your mom disappeared. They were desperate to find your next of kin. I… I was going to go down there right away but then… well, you were with Cora and I thought… I hoped your mom would show up. I had been worrying about what was going to happen to you. So when I got the call that night, I moved quickly to get you out of there." She stated frankly.
Jane began to pour the hot chocolate into mugs as she continued with her side of the story.
"When I picked you up at the airport you looked fragile. Standing there with your backpack full of books. You were so tiny and pale with dark circles under your eyes. I remember looking into your big green eyes and thinking that you looked like a little adult, carrying around adult pain and worry. I was angry at myself for not getting you earlier and I worried that nothing I could do would heal you." She sighed as if she still shouldered some guilt, so many years later.
She stopped and looked at me with a pained, pleading expression, waiting for a response.
"It's ok, Jane, this is what I want to hear, go on." I put on a brave face and took a sip of hot chocolate.
She grimaced then grabbed her mug and circled the bar to join me on a stool.
"The first couple of days you were here, you hardly spoke. You spent hours in your room reading through the little stack of books you’d brought from home. I guess some things never change! But at the time it was unnerving. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to force you to talk about anything you didn't want to, of course. I didn't know anything about children and you'd been through things most adults never have to endure. Finally, your silence broke. You just started talking. You asked me questions about my travels and wanted to know all about Viva. You even laughed. I realized then that you were one of the strongest, most resilient people around." As she spoke, Jane reached over and laid a hand over my hand, resting in my lap.
She continued, "I realized that no one could mend your family, or bring your mom back. But I could make sure you were never alone again and I could give you a safe, happy life. That was the promise I made to myself. I hope that's how you've felt living with me, Eliza." Her voice dropped to a whisper and her eyes filled with doubt.
Hating that she would even question what she had done for me for even a second, I quickly responded, "Oh Jane, I love our life. That's not what this is about." I shook my head vigorously in an attempt to dispel any of her worry.
Jane examined my face and her expression morphed from concern to curiosity.
“Well, if you’re not unhappy here then why are you suddenly asking about all this now?” She asked.
I shrugged my shoulders and cast my gaze to our twined hands resting in my lap, then removed my hand anxiously before speaking.
The truth was, I didn’t know how to answer her question. She clearly didn’t know what Cora and I knew… that whatever happened to my mother was somehow linked to my nightmare. She didn’t know that was the reason Cora sent me to her. The nightmares didn’t follow me and I hadn’t thought about the threat that lived in them for years.
"It’s just that… I’ve been remembering some things from back then, things that scare me." My voice trailed and I gazed around the room trying to find words to describe the emotions that swirled within me.
"You’re going to think I’m crazy.” I stammered hesitantly. My cheeks grew hot under Jane’s inspection.
“There’s a guy that just started at school and he makes me feel strange.” I continued feeling more self-conscious by the second.
“Something about him has made me think about my mother and things that happened to me before I came here. I know that doesn’t make any sense.” I muttered.
Jane leaned back on her stool drinking her cocoa in silence for a few minutes.
I let my eyes linger furtively on the contents of my mug while I waited for her to respond.
"Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Eliza.” She finally said.
> “If you think of other things you want to ask me, please know, I’ll tell you everything I can. I’m here for you.” She said gently and patted my arm.
“Yeah, I know that. Thanks Jane.” I responded gratefully, and met her supportive gaze with a smile.
“Would you permit me just one vital question?" She asked evasively.
"Umm, sure.” I conceded.
"Sooo, this guy, what’s he like?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "There's not much to tell. I just met him, well, barely met him." I said shyly.
"What's his name? He's handsome, I take it?" Jane's grin turned wickedly girlish.
I frowned, realizing what she was thinking.
"His name is Ren Alden and he just moved here. I think he’s good looking but there’s something about him that makes me uncomfortable.” I snipped feeling a chill run up my arms.
"Handsome in a tall, dark way or what?" Jane pressed. She obviously wasn’t going to drop the subject.
"Ok, fine. Yeah he’s tall and dark, kind of lanky. His hair is all wavy and short and he’s kind of tan. His eyes are intense but…intriguing. Everything about him seems intense but when he speaks, he sounds completely relaxed. I can't believe I just said that! Jane, you're killing me here." I puffed exasperated, my cheeks prickling.
"Eliza, take a breath. You've never talked about a boy. You know it's normal to have feelings like this. Don't be so hard on yourself. Besides, he's probably getting sweaty palms over the gorgeous little Audrey Hepburn look alike with big green eyes he just met." She said coyly.
"Jane!" I yelled.
"What? It's the truth, you're gorgeous, deal with it." She snapped playfully.
Love was blind and Jane clearly loved me too much. I realized that Jane was chalking up all my weird behavior to hormones. While her assumption wasn’t accurate, I decided not to correct her.
"Ok, I think that’s enough for one night. I'm going to take a bath." I said dismissively calling an end to the conversation.
"Are you sure you don't need a cold shower instead?" Jane giggled.
I rolled my eyes and headed for the bathroom. Remembering one tiny detail as I strolled down the hallway, I called back to her,
Eliza's Shadow Page 3