“Are you crazy? I not going to do that.”
“Don’t worry, I’m right next to you, I can reach the wheel if you are going off course.”
“Why would you want me to sail with my eyes closed?”
“It will force you to use your other senses, and to trust your instinct.”
“Kat was always the most instinctive sailor of the four of us,” Helene said. “She is a natural.”
“Just give it a try,” John said. “Trust me, it will be fine.”
Kat glanced over to John and said, “I will give it a try, but it’s not my fault if I run this beautiful boat aground.”
Against her better judgment, Kat closed her eyes. She allowed herself to adjust the wheel based on the sound of the sails, the feel of the wind, and the movement of the boat.
As they past the point, a sudden gust of wind heeled the boat over forty-five degrees. Kat opened her eyes and turned the boat into the wind to level it out. Now they were headed northeast, out toward Lake Michigan. Kat could see a distant line of ominous black clouds over the lake.
“I should have warned you about the wind once we got beyond that point. Let’s let the sails out and run downwind,” John said as he loosened the sheet to let the mainsail out. Anna loosened the jib sheet and Kat turned the boat south. The sails billowed out and the wind pushed the boat through the water. The sound of the wind was much quieter now, because it was pushing them from behind instead of blowing through the sails. Kat listened to waves lapping up against the hull and the gentle creaking of the mast.
“It looks like there is a nasty storm out over the lake,” Kat said.
“We’ll keep an eye on it and head into a harbor if it starts to get hairy,” Patrick said.
“Any accidents at sailing school this week, Patrick?” John asked.
“My students ran aground during a race.”
“Any damage to the boat?” Anna asked.
“No, fortunately we hit sand so the hull was okay. My students were a little embarrassed, but I told them that, in my book, there are two kinds of sailors, those who have run aground and those who have never left port.”
“Patrick, would you like to take the helm for a while?” Kat asked.
“I’d love to if John is done with his blind sailing lessons.”
“Go ahead Patrick,” John said as he slid over so Kat could sit next to him.
Kat sat down next to John, and he put his arm around her.
“Let the sails out a little more, we are going to run straight downwind,” Patrick said.
“No accidental gibes please, Patrick,” John said. Patrick was not exactly a cautious sailor.
“Patrick, do you remember when you knocked your dad off the boat when we were eleven?” Kat asked.
“Yes, and he will never let me forget it,” Patrick said.
Uncle Kevin let Patrick take the helm and they were running downwind, just like now. Patrick turned the boat in the wrong direction, the wind caught the sails and the boom swung violently to the other side of the boat. Unfortunately, Uncle Kevin had been standing in the way, and was knocked overboard.
“It really is amazing you get paid to teach people to sail,” John said.
“Kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Patrick laughed.
Kat looked out at the lake behind Patrick. The line of black clouds was still hovering in the distance. Kat felt a sudden chill and moved closer to John. In response, John’s arm tightened around her pulling her closer. Kat rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She breathed in the lake air, listened to the sounds of the boat moving through the water, and began to relax.
“Tom, I recognize those people. They need to get out of here before the Reaping Moon rises,” Kat heard an unfamiliar female voice say. Kat opened her eyes and sat up straight.
“Did someone just say something?” Kat asked.
Anna and Helene gave Kat a strange look. “No one said anything,” Helene said.
“Did you hear something just now?” John asked. He was looking at her with a glint of excitement in his eyes.
“I thought I heard something. It must have been the wind.” Kat looked around to see if any other boats were close by, thinking she may have heard voices carrying across the water, but there were none in sight. John looked like he was going to say something, but seemed to think better of it. The woman’s voice had been as clear as if she were sitting next to Kat.
They reached Omena Bay and were able to drop anchor before a light rain started to fall.
“I think we need a little refreshment,” Patrick said as they went down into the cabin.
John opened a couple bottles of chilled wine, and Helene got some cheese and grapes out of the cooler along with some crackers. They all sat around the salon table.
“Was Martine in Chicago this week?” Helene asked as she looked out the boat window at the gray drizzle.
“Yes but she will be here all next week,” John said.
“Does she ever go back to New Orleans? I don’t recall her ever going back to visit family there,” Helene said.
“I don’t recall her going back to New Orleans since I have known her,” John said.
“Has she ever had any of her family come to visit her?” Anna asked.
“Only one time that I can recall,” John said. “Martine’s Aunt Netta. I’ve never met anyone else from her family or even heard her mention any other family members.”
“What about her son’s father. Do they ever hear from him?” Patrick asked.
“I get the impression Ron’s father does not know where they are,” John said.
“That must have been a nasty break up,” Helene said. “So, what was Martine’s Aunt Netta like?”
“It’s a strange story, actually,” John said.
“I think I will need a refill for this,” Patrick said. There was a bottle of wine at one end of the table by John. Patrick held out his hand and the bottle of wine slid across the table right into his waiting palm. No one had touched the bottle, and the boat had remained level. Kat stared silently at Patrick as he poured a glass.
“How did you do that?” Kat asked.
“Do what?”
“Move the bottle of wine.”
“Oh…I guess we must have hit a wave that tilted the table.” There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Patrick said, “Let’s hear about Martine’s aunt, John.”
John leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “When I was about eleven years old, Martine’s Aunt Netta came up to Northport from New Orleans for a visit while we were vacationing. Martine didn’t seem too thrilled about her coming. She told us Netta was going through a difficult time and needed to get away for a while. Apparently Netta’s lover had recently been killed in a car accident. Netta, in her grief, started to experiment with black magic. She was trying to bring him back.
“I saw a picture of Netta that Martine took five years earlier. The woman who showed up at the door looked nothing like the pretty woman in the picture. Her eyes were red rimmed, and she looked thin and drawn, nervous and jumpy. Ron and I would hear her at night in her room talking to someone, but there was no one else there. Martine told Ron and me that her family in New Orleans had noticed Netta’s strange behavior, and thought a change of location would do her some good.
“One night we heard Martine arguing with Netta. I remember hearing Martine tell her she would draw evil to all of us. A few nights later Ron came by my room and woke me up around midnight. He said that crazy Netta had just wandered out of the house and gone down by the lake. We crept down the stairs and out the back door. We moved down to the shoreline undetected and hid behind a large oak tree. We watched as Netta built a small fire. She knelt down by the fire and rocked slowly back and forth chanting. We saw her take a knife and slice her finger. She held her cut finger over the fire and let the blood drip into the flame.
“A cold gust of wind blew past us as the fire went from orange to blue. A man emerged from the tree line of a
neighboring property. As he got closer, Netta recognized him and became very excited. I recognized him as Netta’s dead lover from a picture Netta kept beside her bed. At first he looked perfectly normal and Netta went forward to embrace him. He lifted her hand and kissed her cut finger. As soon as his lips touched her blood, he looked over at us. His eyes were glowing in the moonlight. Ron grabbed a rock next to us and drew a circle around us in the dirt. I asked him what he was doing and he said it was a protection circle.
“The man pulled Netta to him and we watched as he covered her mouth with his. Netta made a strange gurgling sound as she tried to pull away. The man did not let go, but stepped back toward the tree line with Netta. The flame suddenly went out, and the night was pitch black. By the time our eyes adjusted, Netta and the man were gone.” John leaned back along the salon bench and put his arm behind Kat.
“So what happened to Netta?” Anna asked.
“We never saw her again,” John said quietly. “I’m not sure what Martine told her family in New Orleans.” John stopped talking and the cabin was quiet except for the sound of the raindrops on the hatch and the distant rumble of thunder.
“Did you tell your parents what you saw?” Kat asked.
“No, but we told Martine, and Martine told my parents. They filed a missing person report and searched the lake and shoreline, but nothing ever turned up.” John said.
“You actually thought you saw someone murdering Netta?” Patrick asked.
“Someone or something took her. That’s all I can say for sure.”
“Well, I can see why Martine doesn’t get many visits from family,” Helene said sarcastically.
“My parents were very disturbed by Netta’s disappearance,” John said.
“Who wouldn’t be disturbed by that?” Patrick said.
“It wasn’t just the fact she disappeared, they were also very upset by how she disappeared. I thought they would chalk up our story to two boys with wild imaginations, but they seemed, not only to believe us, but to accept our story without hesitation.” John paused a moment and then said, “I am still surprised by that.”
“My father would never have believed me,” Kat said quietly. “He would’ve told me I was dreaming or something.”
John leaned back, gave Kat a crooked smile and said, “There are more things in heaven and earth.”
“Since John has started quoting Hamlet, and the rain has slowed down, I think it’s time to head back to Northport,” Patrick said.
“We could all go back to my house and throw some steaks on the grill,” John offered.
They stowed everything away, went topside, and pulled up anchor. The rain had stopped but the air was still heavy with moisture.
“It looks like it may start raining again. Do you want to sail, or motor back?” John asked. They all looked up at the gray sky and decided to motor back. When they got back to Northport, they docked the boat and carried the coolers to John’s truck which was parked by the dock.
“Thank you for the sail,” Kat said.
“It was definitely the best part of my week…so far,” John said. “I am assuming you can all come over.”
“I’m not passing up a grilled steak,” Patrick said. “Do you want to ride over with me?” Patrick looked at Anna and Helene.
“Sure,” they answered.
John opened the passenger side door. “That means you are coming with me,” he said. Kat smiled and climbed into the seat. John went around to the driver’s side and hopped in. Kat called Aunt Mary to tell her she would be home later.
“Are you going to John’s house?” Mary asked. Kat could hear the disapproval in her voice.
“Yes, we are all going over.” Kat thought knowing that her cousins were there would ease Mary’s mind.
“Just be careful, Kat,” she said before hanging up.
“I think I make your aunt nervous,” John said.
“She is just a little over protective. When my mom died, she became a surrogate mother to me.”
“Your cousins will be there to keep you safe.” John gave Kat a devilish smile. Kat looked over at John as he turned back to look ahead at the road. He must not have shaved this morning. He had a slight five o’clock shadow. That, combined with his windblown hair, gave him a gorgeous, rugged look.
Kat’s cousins got to the house a few minutes after John and Kat. Anna, Helene, and Kat threw potatoes in the oven and made a salad while Patrick and John cooked some steaks on the grill. When the food was done, they ate out on the deck. The weather had cleared up but the air was cooling down. John lit the fire pit, and he and Patrick moved the table over near it.
“Do you have to go back to Chicago again this month?” Patrick asked John.
“I will probably go to Chicago the last week of June. We are going to have a wine tasting booth at the Cherry Festival this year, so I need to be back for that.”
“You work way too hard,” Patrick said.
John laughed and said, “I will talk to you after you start medical school and we’ll see who is working hard.”
“If I ever start medical school,” Patrick said.
John looked over at Kat, Anna, and Helene and noticed they were inching closer to the fire pit as the air temperature dropped with the sun. “Why don’t we go down to the wine cellar and try a dessert wine?” he asked.
“That sounds good. It is getting a little chilly out here,” Helene said.
They all carried the dishes in then went down to the lower level. The wine cellar looked the same as before, except there were five chairs placed around the table.
“Gee John, were you planning on us coming down here?” Anna laughed.
“I thought I would bring the chairs in, just in case. Why don’t you guys have a seat and I will pour some ice wine.”
“I hate to show my ignorance, but what is ice wine?” Kat asked.
“Ice wine is made from grapes that have been frozen on the vine, and pressed while still frozen. The sugars in the grape don’t freeze, but the water does, so the resulting juice is highly concentrated.” John handed Kat a glass. “If you like sweet wine, you’ll like this.”
Kat had a glass of wine on the boat, a glass before dinner, and two glasses of wine with dinner, so she was starting to feel a little drunk.
“Have you tried to use your mother’s bowl since the last time?” Anna asked.
“No, I haven’t.”
“What are you using your mother’s bowl for?” Kat asked.
“Do you remember me telling you the bowl enables you to see visions?” John asked.
“Yes,” Kat said skeptically.
“We played a little game using the bowl. You clear your mind then focus your energy on whatever question is asked.”
“I used to have a Magic Eight Ball. If I had known, I would’ve brought it over,” Kat said.
Patrick chuckled, but John, Anna, and Helene just smiled.
“Would you like to try it?” John asked.
Kat normally would never participate in anything like this. She saw enough “visions” on her own. Kat looked across the table into John’s dark eyes. “Okay, I guess we can try,” she found herself saying.
“Let me get some candles,” John said as he walked out of the wine cellar and up the stairs.
As John got to the top of the stairs, he heard a knock at the front door. He went into the entry and saw Martine standing on the porch.
“Come in,” John said as he opened the door.
“I just wanted to let you know I am in the guesthouse. I just pulled up.”
“Come over if you need anything. Kat, Anna, Helene, and Patrick are downstairs.”
Martine looked at John suspiciously. “What are you doing?”
“We are going to try out Mom’s bowl.”
“With Kat?” Martine asked.
“Kat can help us find out what happened to my parents.”
Martine frowned and said, “I can feel a very strong energy coming from Kat, but she is unaware
of her abilities. In fact…they frighten her. Just be careful what doors you open. There are things out there that will feed off her fear. You may let something out you can’t put back.”
“I can help her get over her fear,” John said impatiently.
“You cannot romance or charm her into doing this,” Martine said.
“I can get her to do what I need.”
“It won’t work this time,” Martine said annoyed. “If she does not participate with full knowledge and willingness it will backfire. This is one thing you cannot control.”
“I know what I am doing,” John said as he turned and walked into the kitchen to get some candles. Martine watched him walk away, shook her head and walked to the guesthouse.
Chapter Nineteen
John came back into the wine cellar, placed five candles around the bowl, and lit them.
“So how do we do this?” Kat asked.
“I’ll dim the lights,” John said as he walked over to the wall switch to turn off the cellar lights and close the large wooden doors. He walked back to the table and sat opposite Kat. “Now, we all have to hold hands. Try to relax and clear your mind. Close your eyes if it makes it easier and think of something that makes you calm.”
After all the wine, relaxing was easy. Kat closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the water gurgling up in the bowl. This was so unlike Kat to participate in anything like this. Kat wondered if it was the wine, or something else compelling her to do this.
“Can I ask the first question?” Anna asked.
“Of course,” John said.
“Will Helene and Greg ever hook up?”
“Oh come on!” Helene protested.
“That’s a fair question,” John said. “Let’s see if we can see anything.”
They stared at the bowl for a couple minutes but their concentration was broken when Anna started laughing. “I don’t think this is working,” she said.
“Maybe we need to ask a more serious question?” John suggested.
“Your turn John,” Helene said. “And stay off the topic of my social life please.”
“I would like all of you to focus,” John said. Kat looked up to find John staring directly at her. “What happened to my parents on that sailboat the day they disappeared?”
The 45th Parallel Page 11