by Aiden James
“Actually, it’s more my fault,” I said. “I should’ve allowed the prick named Serghei to dump ice cream on my head undeterred.” Mostly this was sincere.
“Hmmm…. The banana is a nice touch,” Dad teased, patting my shoulder to confirm the joke. “You should wear it for a week or so, Bas…. Maybe it will serve as a reminder for you not to act on your whims. In the meantime, this should buy us some time to figure out where to go next.”
“Or, whether we should continue to stand our ground,” added Mom. “After all, we were here first and should be treated with respect.”
Not sure if that argument had merit, or not. After all, it didn’t do much for the Lenape Indians when they traded Manhattan for pox-laden blankets and some trinkets. But perhaps battling to a standstill could count as a victory of some measure.
It just depended on the Mateis, and when and where the next attack would come from.
Chapter Eighteen
The hot topic of ‘Should we stay or should we go?’ made for a much more volatile conversation than any of our previous ‘flight’ discussions. It lasted until the dawn’s light crept in through the eastern windows of our grand antebellum the following morning. In the end nothing was settled that Friday, other than Adrian’s vow to obliterate the next Matei who threatened any of us. Grandpa’s continued cautionary stance had lost its teeth, and both of my uncles had moved past the breaking point of respect for his final authority. I think he knew it, too, as he pleaded for them both to not cavalierly anger the Elders. They floated upstairs on the way to their hidden quarters in the attic, and he hurried to the foyer to implore them for a commitment to heed his request to not incite another confrontation with our enemies. I heard Manuel give a tepid agreement before disappearing into Alisia’s bedroom closet, where the hidden entrance to the attic awaited him and Adrian.
“Father, let them rest. I will speak with Adrian and Manuel before they rejoin us this afternoon,” said Dad, slipping his arm around Grandpa’s shoulders to give him a hug. “By then, I should have the latest list of available properties out west to review.”
“We’re not moving without a majority vote,” Mom said, from inside the doorway to the dining room, where we had spent most of the past night’s ongoing argument. “And, Bas, it was a passionate discussion—not a war of words, as you have incorrectly assumed.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t a passionate discussion,” I countered, hating her voyeurism into my thoughts. I acted surprised, unwilling to concede any unnecessary ground—especially for what seemed like splitting hairs.
“Passionate discussion does sound a lot better than ‘ongoing argument’,” said Alisia, grinning at me. “It’s not splitting hairs.”
Know what I hate even worse? The two of them tag-teaming me.
“It could be three of us instead of just your mother and sister ganging up on you, my dear,” teased Grandma, carrying a serving tray into the kitchen. “Can I get anyone anything while I’m in here? Anyone care for breakfast?”
“I’d like to first have a look at the neighborhood from our roof,” Grandpa advised, pausing to plant a soft kiss on my grandmother’s forehead. “Then I’ll take a nap while Gabriel keeps an eye on things until I’m up for good.”
“I’ll brew a fresh pot of coffee, Mother,” said Mom, following her into the kitchen. “Then I’ll keep Gabe company until he retires.”
“Sounds like almost everyone is planning on sacrificing sleep today,” I said, the burn in my eyes steadily getting worse. Admittedly, I had not slept well the past few nights for a number of reasons, and it had caught up with me.
“Everyone but them,” said Alisia, pointing to the ceiling high above the foyer, where light creaks announced our uncles’ footsteps in the attic.
“And me,” I said, drawing raised eyebrows from all three ladies. “But it will just be for a few hours, and then I’ll help patrol the house.”
“Sleep for as long as you need to, son,” said Grandpa. “You’ll do us more good if you aren’t nodding off tonight.”
“What’s happening tonight?” I asked.
“It’s Toma Matei’s birthday,” said Grandma, when Mom and Dad said nothing, looking at Grandpa, who looked at her. “It hasn’t been a notable event since World War II, but given the fact we are all starting over in a new city, I would expect the wounds felt by Irina and Valerian have been refreshed since they never allowed a natural healing process to take place when he died.”
“So, will we be attacked, you think?” asked Alisia.
“I doubt it,” said Grandpa, peering longingly at the Beauregard’s roof through the living room’s east side window. “They fear Adrian’s wizardry and temper too much, I believe. But, it doesn’t mean they won’t try to find a breach in our protective spells and launch an attack against someone weaker… like you kids.”
“There won’t be any shenanigans like yesterday, though, will there?”
Dad looked at me more than Alisia as he said this, and for a moment I felt the heat of indignation warm my cheeks. Even so, I nodded compliantly, as did Alisia.
“Good… then we have nothing to worry about,” he said, sending a subtle wink to our mother. “And if you go outside, what is the rule again?”
“We stay inside the borders of the yard,” my sister affirmed.
“Very good.”
Dad seemed quite pleased, and I wanted to yell out that my sister and I were no longer young kids who needed to be coddled and protectively watched over. Yet, considering his recent brush with death at the hands of the Mateis, I knew there would be no leniency or audience for a perspective that differed from his own. Not to mention, Mom certainly felt just as strongly as he did.
It made it easy for me to hole up in my bedroom, though sleep didn’t come as easy as I had hoped and assumed it would. And when restless boredom inspired me to find my sister, just after noon, I found her reading one of her beloved Jane Austin paperbacks in the shade behind the barn.
“Well, you missed the vote,” she told me, when I tried to sneak up on her and failed miserably.
“What vote?”
“The vote to leave or stay,” she advised. “It was close, but as of Monday, the house is officially going on the market.”
“Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she said, closing her book to look up at me.
She looked depressed, which told me her vote must’ve been for us to stay…. This surprised me, but not nearly as much as the sudden feeling of alienation returning full force to my solar plexus, like a sucker punch to the gut. As if I was back in mid-May again, when I first heard the news we were moving to some hick town in the south. Ironically, the very place I had dreaded moving to had managed to sink some pretty deep talons into my heart and soul since then. I didn’t want to leave. Or, more accurately, I wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet.
“Your vote was the one to swing us to leaving,” Alisia continued, looking off toward the majestic willow tree that guarded the corner of Chaffin’s bend and Lee Street like a proud sentry.
“What?! I never voted!” I protested.
“You didn’t have to vote for everyone to know you never wanted to come here, and could hardly wait to move on to someplace else,” she said. “So, Dad counted you as one of the votes to leave, and it was enough to swing the victory to a decision to move either to Austin or Denver. They sound like great places, but….”
“But the Mateis will pursue us there!” I said, feeling my anger rising. “It’s pointless and stupid to move!”
“Not to mention no one is going to pay the amount of money we gave for the house,” she said. “That’s what Mom and Adrian pointed out, but Grandpa, Grandma, and Dad said they will take the loss and any flack we’ll get from the Elders for not meeting the minimum stay of a year. I thought Manuel would side with Adrian, but since he is thinking of going back to Europe, he voted to leave for our safety. That made it four votes to three in favor of leaving, and your vote—even if
it had been counted as neutral since you were sleeping—would’ve clinched the decision to go.”
“But I want to stay.”
“Huh?”
“Yes, I’ve changed my mind.”
“Seriously? In just a matter of six to seven weeks?” she said disbelievingly. “Wait… wait a second. This is about the Matei girl, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not,” I said, momentarily forgetting Alisia could scan my mind for the truth. “Well… at least not totally.”
“Bullshit, Bas,” she said, rising to her feet and holding me in her penetrating gaze.
“No… I am being honest with you,” I told her, meeting her probing stare head on. “Yeah, I hated this place, but really it was more hating the move from Wheaton and Chicago. I loved it there—you know that—and I never thought I could grow fond of anywhere else. Especially not some hole-in-the-wall town in the middle of nowhere…. But, something changed after we moved into the house, got to know the neighbors and shit….”
I suddenly pictured ‘Horseshit’ Harry scrambling to get away from Grandpa and our enchanted home.
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” I said, grimacing slightly. “But, there is something about here… about this place, and the craziness that surrounds us.” I motioned around me to the park-like setting that for some reason always seemed to calm my spirit, and also motioned to the grand antebellum that somehow looked even more majestic from where the barn stood.
“And, a girl,” said Alisia, shaking her head. “If I didn’t feel the very same things you speak of, I would be inclined to swing my vote to getting the hell out of Denmark and not even glancing at the place in a rearview mirror as we leave. But I do….”
She was right. And despite my sincere acknowledgement that the town had become ‘home-like’ to me in a very short period of time, the daughter of the Mateis had also become part of the reason I didn’t want to leave Denmark. There was something there… something I needed to understand before turning my back on it. I needed this mystery to be solved before I could move on….”
“I’ve got an idea,” said Alisia. “If you could visit the one location outside of our house and yard that you truly love about this town, where would it be?”
“Why? What in the hell does that have to do with anything?”
Her question made no sense to me. As I was about to leave my sis with her romance novel and seek out our father, to let him know my displeasure in not being given a say in our family’s future plans, she reached up and pressed her forefinger against my lips.
“Be still. Think of the place, Bas…. I can picture it in my mind and I see it in yours also. It should be obvious.”
The Winery? What in the hell?!
“Yes… the hills behind it have reminded us both of Napa Valley. It was the first thing other than the house to make us feel like we could survive the move from Chicago, and that we could actually thrive and be happy here. Remember?”
“Yeah, I do.” I still didn’t understand why it had anything to do with our present predicament.
“If you could go there right now, could I trust you to spend an hour getting in touch with your true feelings about staying or leaving?” she asked, pressing her finger to my lips again when I started to protest. “You need this, Bas, in order to know your true feelings. I need this from you, too…. And if you return feeling as you do at this moment, then I will assist you in protesting Dad and Mom’s decision to flee Denmark…. But if you find that your feelings are actually what they were when we first got here, then I need for you to be completely honest with me. I will then accept the decision of the majority to pack up and leave.”
She lowered her hand and stepped back, looking away while she awaited my response.
“Okay,” I said, after a moment in private deliberation. “So, how do we work this out?”
“First, trust me,” she said. “Next, call your broomstick.”
* * * * *
I ended up in a wooded area just behind the labeled vineyards designated for visitors to peruse at the Denmark Winery. Despite the high humidity, a cool breeze accompanied my landing just before the wormhole closed behind me. No one saw me, I was sure of it, and none of the workers in the wine production facilities behind the main building that housed the restaurant, lounge, and wine shop noticed my presence. I would’ve bet my life on it.
But the peaceful spot felt bereft of the spiritual calm I sought. Though it had seemed incredibly serene just weeks earlier, it was now merely a scenic area industrialized to make a profit. I couldn’t understand what had changed. Yet, before giving up and returning home, I used a primitive form of magic to surround myself with an imaginary circle of white light. I was desperate for peace and willing to try anything to recapture what I had felt before, when Alisia and I had made it our favorite place to visit in Denmark.
As I closed my eyes and pictured the pristine glow around me, I suddenly became aware of an immense black shadow that emanated from the town itself, stretching tendrils of malice to the outskirts where the winery was located.
The Mateis’ poisoned hold upon the town? Ah, hell… yeah that’s not creepy!
For a moment, I wondered if this was an unforeseen aspect of the illusory imagery I had conjured from my mind. But as I focused on the divine spark that lives deep within all of us, the impenetrable shadow headed for me suddenly receded. At the same time, the white light I had summoned filled the void left behind by the shadow. As it did, my spirit felt lifted.
Grateful for the reprieve, I now had the calmness necessary to find out for sure if I wanted to remain in Denmark, or if it was truly time for my family to cut our losses and move on. My vote—if my father would relent to include the real one—needed to be based on wisdom, and not tainted by misplaced desire and my hormones.
I began to relax and inhale the essence of this magical place, with rolling hills that called to mind the famed vineyards and wineries of northern California. A warm sensation soon embraced me, and in that instant I knew for certain it was this place called Denmark, and not some infatuation for a girl, pulling on my heart to stay. Delighted, I began to smile… until a soft familiar voice startled me from behind.
“So, you like this place, too?”
I whirled around, almost losing my balance. She was there, dressed like a normal girl in white shorts, pink top and sandals—no ‘Goth’ whatsoever.
“Daciana… what are you doing here?”
Not the kindest greeting, and not at all what I would’ve liked to say. But I’ve never been a cool customer when under pressure.
She laughed, and shook her head as if amused.
“I came to see you, silly Sebastian,” she said. “And, it’s nice to see you without your shades. You have pretty eyes.”
I didn’t know what to say… my first reaction was embarrassment, like a grade school kid with his first crush. I honestly didn’t know what to do next. Not to mention, I could’ve kicked myself for leaving my sunglasses on the desk in my bedroom. When I sought out my sis by the barn, I figured I’d be there for just a few minutes, tops. I had no idea I’d be here, and even less, that I’d be talking with the girl who had dominated my thoughts since our first encounter at the movie theater just two weeks ago.
“That’s cool,” I finally muttered, shrugging with my hands buried in my pants pockets. Completely juvenile, and yet she didn’t regard me with disdain for my awkwardness. “I like this place… I came here to think.”
When all else fails, tell the truth. No, that’s not something handed down to me by some sage like my grandfather. It’s what literally scrolled through my head right then. And, when she nodded in response to my silent musing, I knew I had already lost the battle to express my interest in her discreetly.
“I like this place, too,” she said, smiling. Her gorgeous eyes glistened lovingly. “I’ve been waiting for you to go someplace where it would be safe to talk.”
“What about?”
“Nothing specifically…
I just want to get to know you.”
“Oh,” I said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “That sounds great… I mean, I would like to get to know you, too.”
I was doomed to look like an idiot, and wondered if my stumbling over the words would conjure images of the bananas foster mess pouring down my face the previous afternoon.
“You are adorable when you worry about trying to impress a girl,” said Daciana, confirming that my thoughts were an open book to her. “You were quite brave yesterday… although I worried you might get killed.”
She frowned slightly, as if picturing her brother’s intended demise for me in our downtown duel.
“Serghei hates me,” I said. “Surely he’s not the only one.”
“Does anyone beyond your sister know about your interest in me?” she asked.
“No… at least I don’t think so,” I replied. “Maybe my mom and grandma… and maybe my uncle.”
“The one who wants to wipe my family from the earth, me included?”
Her words stung me to the core. But they were true, as Adrian had voiced his Matei disdain on a daily basis since arriving in Denmark.
“Adrian talks a little crazy, but he is only reacting to Serghei and your uncles,” I tried to assure her. “I would likely be dead by now if not for Adrian…. But I won’t let him hurt you.”
Saying this sent a surge of energy through me, one that felt so strange… more like an incredible urge to protect her—the youngest daughter of my family’s long time enemies. It was crazy… beyond ridiculous, and yet very real. As real as the instinct to protect my sister.
“Well, don’t worry so much, Sebastian,” she said, eyeing me playfully as she stepped back to a large pecan tree and retrieved her broomstick. “Just see what you can do to not leave here. Give my brother, uncles, and my dad time. My mother already likes you… a little. The others will come around, because they have to.”