“Cordelia, you and I both know the truth. You are what we say you are. You can’t deny that now with what you’ve just experienced here with me.” Evan wasn’t upset just stating the facts.
I nodded. And he was right. I couldn’t deny what had just happened. For some reason, I’d been able to read his mind. It was nothing short of incredible, although at this very second, I couldn’t hear anything. I wondered if he were able to block me from reading his thoughts. Was I being intrusive by attempting too? Sadly, I didn’t have any control over it at all. It just came and went. The fact that it comes is mindblowing. But it seems like every time I display some form of power, it’s not within my control. I sighed with frustration.
I had to avert my eyes from Evan, so I looked up at the vines that intertwined with the strips of iron which made up the top of the gazebo. I felt Evan take my hand, and turn it palm side up. I couldn’t breathe as I watched him lower his head. He placed a kiss as delicate as a warm breeze on my wrist, and then gently kissed the palm of my hand. They were innocent, yet sensuous kisses that sent ripples of soft waves throughout my entire body. Evan wove his smooth fingers through mine, and we sat there like that, quietly, for what seemed like a long time. All the while I felt totally comfortable with Evan, for the first time. It was as if his kiss had the power to calm my nerves.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye and he stared forward, seeming to take in the lovely landscape of the garden. I refused to read his thoughts the entire time and more importantly, he couldn’t read mine.
I wasn’t sure what I felt for him, but what I was sure of at that very moment was that I didn’t want to let go of his hand, so I didn’t. It felt right, as if our hands belonged intertwined, as if nothing was ever going to be powerful enough to pry them apart. Perhaps, it was the comfort of being intimate with someone that clouded my mind. I didn’t know for sure, but I enjoyed sitting here in this romantic gazebo with Evan. I wondered if he could sense that.
We left the gazebo, with our hands still interlocked, slightly swinging our arms to and fro. Upon entering the house, it was quiet. Too quiet, like no one was home, and Evan and I were alone in the world. Realizing that two hours had gone by; Evan said that he needed to catch up with his father and Nikolas. With a languid kiss on my hand, Evan was up the stairs and out of sight.
There was no doubt in my mind that they would be discussing a strategy to stop Victor and that Apolluon Vampire named Matthias. I felt so helpless, and guilty of the mess I had made of things. I decided to stay in the sun room for a while. I listened to the only sounds in the room; two love birds swinging separately on two mini swings. They swung in unison in their oversized, gilded cage. I walked over to the cage, and peered at the two birds, wondering if they were truly smitten with each other.
Eighteen
Town Trip
After only a few solitary minutes, Bethany dashed into the sun room with an invitation that I couldn’t resist. A trip into town. I was pleasantly surprised that she would want to venture out after the strict reprimand she and I had received for the early morning ride, but she was ready to go. Bethany had on a matching bonnet, and was fastening the single pearl button at the wrist of her lace gloves.
“We’re going into town to choose the fabric needed to have our Masquerade Ball gowns made.” She ignored my look of concern and fear. “Oh don’t worry. Night Wind will escort us.”
“No, it’s not that, well it’s not only that. I don’t think that I’m ready for my anointment as the Empress of this empire.”
“You will be.” Bethany assured. “Shall we?” She prompted me, impatiently as she motioned to the archway leading out of sunroom and into the foyer. I ignored her.
“No I don’t think so. My memory, whatever it is that I’m supposed to recall, hasn’t returned.” I argued, and unconsciously grabbed my medallion.
Somehow it always seemed to calm me with its cool temperature.
“Your memory should be restored by then.” Bethany said, smoothing her dress.
“How do you know that?”
“Look, blocking it, won’t help, Cordelia. Please allow it to happen,” Bethany snapped. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was blocking the memories. Maybe, unconsciously, I didn’t want to remember. No, that’s not true. I was desperate to remember. She’s wrong. Bethany’s dead wrong. I’m not the reason that I can’t recall anything from my past. Something else must be blocking it.
“Just don’t think about it, alright,” Bethany advised. That was easier said than done. Impossible really.
Bethany summoned Night Wind, who besides being the stable hand, was also our driver. She instructed him to bring the carriage around, as Sun Paw brought me my matching accessories; a bonnet, a pair of lace gloves, and a parasol. In no time, we were seated in the dim, yet lush velvet interior of the completely enclosed carriage.
The ride was fairly bumpy due to the uneven sandy terrain of the dirt road. Behind the fringed velvet curtain, I spied the busy town below. I felt consumed by an eerie feeling. It was hard to believe how different and how similar the streets looked compared to how they will look a century later.
As we made our way down the road, I kept my nose pressed to the carriage window. I stared out at all the houses, remembering how aged and deteriorated they were in the future. I was surprised at how pristine they all looked now. People were sitting on their porches drinking beverages, and standing in their front yards waving as they watched us go by. Our carriage made its way onto what could be considered the main street. I noticed some of the town folk gawking at our carriage, and it felt like we were an overly attractive float in a parade.
This town, in the future, had been somewhat preserved with minor renovations for a recent revival to showcase Nickel City's historic lore. But it was impossible to fully capture the atmosphere I saw now. The town was bustling with people coming and going into and out of the mercantile, the post office, the bank, the saloons, the restaurants, the hotel, the lumber yard, and the tinsmiths. It was like being in a whole different town not just era. I don’t remember ever seeing this much traffic by foot or by car on C Street.
“I can’t believe this many people live in Nickel City,” I said with my nose still pressed up to the carriage window. There were more people in town now than there was when the tourist would flock here for the tours on the weekends.
“It’s as my father had explained, we, put silver in the mines and they came. Indeed, they came in droves,” Bethany said, eyeing the town folk skeptically.
“It will be better once we prevent Victor and the Apolluon from destroying this town and the entire west.”
“Everything looks so… brand new.”
“Everything is brand new. I remember when Nikolas and I arrived in the future, shortly after you did. We were immediately saddened by the ruins. It’s a shame really.” Bethany sighed. I’d been so depressed, being stuck in this unfamiliar time, but seeing the town now – all brand new and busy – just knowing how much it will changed for the worse was even more depressing.
The balconies and awnings were partly what made this towns architecture unique due to the sophisticated, carved detailing. The shabby and droopy balconies and awnings, which I was used to seeing every day, where no longer depreciated from time and weather. They were now freshly painted and ornate. It was awesome.
The carriage jerked my body a little as the wheels rolled over the uneven terrain of the main street. It was enough to make a person with motion sickness toss their cookies. There were saddled horses, horse and buggies, although none as ornate as ours, parked like cars along the street. This town was a whole different world to me.
We rode passed dozens and dozens of people dressed in the fashions of the day, milling through the wide and crowded street. Some didn’t wear outfits as fancy as ours. Obviously everyone didn’t strike it rich by mining. But I wasn’t going to make an ass out of myself by assuming that because someone was dressed plainly, and not lavishly that it meant that they
didn’t have the means. I knew better than that.
I spotted quite a few AfricanAmericans, Native Indians, and Asians. Everyone milled about as I was amazed at how everyone interacted, and went about their business. The Native Indians were either dressed in their traditional dress, cowhide pants, long aprons over loose fitting tunic styled shirts and moccasins, or in denims, vests, button down shirts, and cowboy boots. Strangely, the Native Indians who did wear denims, didn’t wear holsters with pistols, proving that they weren’t quite ready to adapt to that choice of weaponry.
The Asians which I guessed were Chinese because of their customary bamboo straw hats, wore mandarin neck tunics, pants, and slippers. They worked diligently doing laundry in an alley. The African Americans and the Caucasians dressed mostly either in three piece suits, or leather vests and denims, keeping their guns holstered to their hips as if at any moment they could be challenged to a draw. Practically every man wore a hat of some style. Some little round bowl shaped hats, while most wore Stetsons, except for the Native Indians, who wore nothing on their heads.
Besides riding around on their horses or standing around in small groupings talking, laughing, and tipping their hats as they exchanged pleasantries to acquaintances and passersby, the men spent a lot of time spitting. Chewing tobacco was one of the vices of choice and such a nasty habit. The women chatted in small groups while they walked in and out of the shops; some with children trailing behind. I watched in a daze as people darted in and out of the traffic of carriages that rode up and down the main Street. Bethany snapped her fingers snapping me back from my daze.
“I didn’t realize that there were so many people of different backgrounds living here in this period of time.”
“Of course there are. You can’t believe everything you read in a text book. As I’m sure you already know, the Native Indians, mostly the Paiute tribe, were here first, then around the forties, about the same time that our kind migrated from Europe, mortals of diverse ethnicities began settling here.” Bethany explained. “Except for the Native Indian, everyone settled here in this new frontier, in hopes to strike silver.
“Fascinating.”
Bethany nodded in agreement, and then pulled a chord that hung next to the window of the door closest to her. It let out the sound of a clunky bell that notified Night Wind that we were ready to stop and exit the carriage.
Night Wind opened the door to Bethany's side, and extended a hand to help her step down. When he extended his hand to me, I saw a trace of a smile and a glint of amusement in his eyes. He held my gaze for a moment. I wouldn't allow myself to appear attracted to him. I looked away, and stepped down onto the dusty road. I pretended to smooth my dress as Night Wind retreated to ensuring the horses got enough water.
The sights and sounds amazed me. I stared in wonder at my little ancient town bustling in what was known to be its glory days, the days of getting rich quick. The days where miners mined day and night for the precious silver as thieves and looters waited to boost it. It was a very advantageous, yet dangerous time. The average thief was no longer just a thief. The riches produced today caused a thief to upgrade to a murderer.
I snapped to attention with the sound of several gunshots ripping through the air. I was practically deaf for a few seconds. Bethany grabbed my hand as if she thought I would run off like a scared child. I followed the sharp popping sound with my eyes, as everyone else did, to where we all thought it originated from.
My eyes fell on a grubby looking man who appeared to be drunk and waving a pistol over his head and into the air. His expression was pure glee. He looked to be anywhere in his thirties, and was dressed in a dirt smeared shirt, a dusty brown leather vest, sooty chaps, and shiny silver spurs tacked onto his mud coated boots. He waved a pistol in one hand and drank long gulping sips from a bottle with the other. He was causing a disturbance that wasn’t going unnoticed. The man literally had everyone’s attention. Some folks were laughing while others shook their heads in disgust, as if he was sullying the town with his spectacle.
Another man with salt and pepper hair, slightly hidden underneath his tall black Stetson, and a salt and pepper curled mustache to match, who was dressed in a tailored black suit, tried to keep the shooter at bay. The sun’s vibrant rays ricochet off of the gold star on his chest. The drunken man spun around, causing everyone to back up, and duck as he let off a couple more rounds for good measure. Then he stumbled in the middle of the road on account of an out of place stone, and fell to the ground. Fortunately, all this was done without blowing anyone’s face off. Everyone, including me breathed a sigh of relief. The sheriff smiled at everyone, and announced that all was well and that everyone could go back to carrying on their business.
“Never a dull moment.” Bethany sighed.
“This town has never been more exciting.” I agreed.
The inebriated man passed out in the street. He looked as if he might be dead, but of course he wasn’t. He was toasted. Two men dressed in what looked to be matching vests and holsters, picked him up by his arms and legs and carried him back into the saloon he had come out of. Perfect I thought. He can get even drunker when he comes to.
The doors to the saloon, etched with the words ‘Bucket o’ Blood Saloon opened, and cheerful ragtime music flowed out onto the street along with the sounds of high pitched laughter and shrieks of delight. The sounds grew faint as the swinging doors swung closed.
Next door to the saloon was another bar like establishment. The fancy sign swinging read ‘Madame Clairy’s Secret’. I presumed that Madame Clairy was a fortune teller. I was tempted to go in, and find out just what her secret was when Bethany, still with a firm grasp of my hand, whisked me into the shop that we had parked the carriage in front of.
Once inside, all eyes were on me. I received some truly shocking stares. A short, slightly portly woman quickly shuffled up to us. Her face reminded me of a baby chick, eyes deep set into a round fuzzy face with a beaklike nose. She must be the shopkeeper since she came out from behind the counter, totally ignoring the customers who she had just been waiting on. Her welcome smile was broad and full of decaying chipped teeth. I guess yearly trips to the dentist just weren’t a priority these days.
“Oh, Miss Tieron, I didn’t know that you were back in town? Oh my, how was your trip? Is Mrs. Tieron here with you” The shopkeeper asked in a high pitched pig squeal that fit her portly figure. Everyone in the shop seemed to wait with bated breath for my response. I was caught off guard and couldn’t seem to put an answer together.
I felt weird being referred to as Miss Tieron, the name still didn’t feel like it was mine.
“Hello, please call me Del –”
“Mrs. Hickam,” Bethany interrupted. “We have an appointment with our seamstress and are in a bit of a hurry. Please show us your newest bolts from Italy, and the Orient. We are interested in your finest silk, satin, lace, and tulle. We only want to see your brightest hues.”
“Of course Miss Capius, Miss Tieron. Please, follow me...” Mrs. Hickam practically jumped. It was as if Bethany and I were royalty or something. “We have just received several new bolts of silk from the Orient that may interest you.” Mrs. Hickam said, appearing embarrassed by how Bethany spoke to her, yet she seemed used to it. I didn't know the woman, but I was embarrassed for her and pissed at Bethany.
After sifting through numerous bolts of luxurious fabrics in an array of bold colors and prints, Bethany finally approved of two satins, three lace patterns, after disapproving of all the silk fabrications Mrs. Hickam allowed us to preview. It was exhausting. I couldn't care less which fabric was which or the color it came in. Every shade and color made no difference to me. I couldn’t see the point in looking pretty yet feeling grossly uncomfortable in a corset and bustle.
All the while we shopped, I was the object of everyone’s attention. I think I kind of had an idea of how celebrities felt when they were gawked at. I just wanted to leave the shop of peering eyes. Outside we watched Night Wind l
oad the bolts of fabric onto the top of the carriage.
“We have company Miss Bethany” Night Wind’s face became contorted. I followed his eyes to the right of us about a yard away from where we stood on the boarded side walk. Sauntering toward us in chocolate brown cowhide pants, a tight matching vest – worn like a corset minus the blouse which exposed her full cleavage, and a Stetson, was Sacha, and she wasn’t alone. She had an entourage of about six people with her, and they all were dressed pretty much the same – mostly in dark colors. The men, who made up five of her crew, were unshaven and grimy looking. There was only one other woman and she looked as tough as Sacha. Every pair of eyes was fixed on me. I was the bull’s eye.
Only Sacha’s intense gaze danced between Bethany and me. She watched Bethany carefully. She knew better after that little episode this morning. She made sure not to get to close to Bethany and kept her distance; at least two feet between them. She wasn’t looking to be sent home to doze again.
Bethany didn’t act phased at Sacha’s presence. “Night Wind, are we ready.”
“Yes Miss Bethany.” Bethany proceeded to enter the carriage as Night Wind held the door open.
People were quickly getting out of the way and steering clear of Sacha and her gang of wannabe Ischeros. The women snatched their children, and the men watched with a curious light in their eyes. They were anticipating some kind of brawl. Sacha’s backup seemed antsy. They looked to me to be itching for a battle. Sacha’s didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that we were departing. Her vibrant hazel eyes flashed hatred. A vicious wind was picking up tremendous speed. The turbulent wind seemed to surround only Sacha and her gang, whipping the hair from beneath their Stetsons across their faces. The hem of my dress, as well as Bethany’s flew up causing me to bend slightly to push it back down; I was too modest to expose my petticoat. The wind reminded me of the tornado, minus the water, that erupted from out of nowhere when Evan had vanished through my bedroom ceiling.
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