“Wonderfully sad son should go by himself to discover hidden treasures if you know what I mean. Not have his shabby parents dragging behind him all the time,” he said.
I know he was right, but I knew Mark wouldn’t do it. Not yet, at least.
“I’ll send him this offer. We’ll see what he says.”
Sure enough, by lunch time the next day, his reply was in my inbox.
Mom,
I got your e-mail last night. I thought it was too late to call, so, instead, I took the opportunity to reply. I haven’t sent a personal e-mail in years. Well, not really - I sent one to Jane a couple of days ago, but it bounced back.
Anyway, Aruba sounds GREAT! Let’s do it! March is a really busy time here at the company, but by mid-April things usually slow down for a couple of months. I’m guessing two weeks should be enough to get comfortable and get a little home-sick. I feel like setting a date right now. So how does the 17th of April sound to you guys? Let me know and I’ll book the tickets.
I really wanted to talk to you about how I feel, but my throat gets stuck and I simply can’t. So here it is:
The first day back at the office was horrible. Word got around that Jane and I split up and everywhere I looked I saw pitiful eyes. I really don’t need their pity, mom. What I need are answers. Like how the heck would Jane think I was cheating on her? John swears he tried to fix it, but he’s such an idiot sometimes that I’m sure he only made it worse. But why? Why wouldn’t she give me a chance to explain?
I even called Beatrice on Sunday. Yes, I kept in touch with her, but only at a professional level. She runs a Human Resources company and she sometimes sends people that are suitable for our company. That’s all, I swear! So I called her and asked about the flowers. She didn’t even know I was in the hospital. And, yeah, why would she? See, now John’s stupidity had me believing the flowers were from her! I’m even thinking of going back to the hospital to find the nurse who brought the flowers and ask her who delivered them.
As for my relationship with John, I don’t know… I can’t even look the man in the eyes anymore. But what can I do? He’s been my best friend for years, I can’t simply “break it off” with him. Honestly, I was thinking of firing him. Or at least transferring him to a branch in another state so I won’t see his stupid face anymore.
I am trapped inside my thoughts. Two weeks ago I was picking up a ring for Jane. Now I’m picking at every theory that could get me out of this mess. I’m a mess.
Don’t feel sorry for me.
I love you.
Mark.
I immediately wanted to call him, just to hear his voice, but I felt that the e-mail had a certain sanctity to it. I simply couldn’t spoil it with my strong desire to say, well, say what? I felt that in the end, everything will be alright - I felt it like a warm glow pumping in my heart.
Tiger,
Keep your head up, away from the muck pulling you down. Walk tall, shoulders back, deep breaths.
Forgive John. He might be a clear target for your anger, but if you trust your friendship, forgive him. Take him back, with his good and his bad.
After your grandmother got sick, I blamed my father. I felt I was entitled. You see, your grandmother died young from lung cancer. She never smoked, but my father did. During our cross-country pilgrimage, she would drive and my dad was sitting next to her, smoking and drinking orange juice. It was “his thing”, so to say. The car would get very foggy at times, especially during the winter. None of us ever complained, until the day she was diagnosed. I was waiting outside the doctor’s office and on a small table, I saw a leaflet. It was called “How cancer creeps in”. Nevermind the fact that the exact cause of cancer isn’t sure to this day. The fact of the matter is that there was a list of vices, mostly, with smoking ranking at number one. The people diagnosed were kindly assured that passive smoking counts, too. A very ineffective way to say “it’s not your fault”, perhaps. In any case, what was read could not be unread. I thought to myself that if anything bad was going to happen to her, my father would be to blame. I kept it bottled inside for years. You can imagine how exhausting it had to have been for my father, raising a resentful and angry teenager daughter by himself. I was in high-school when I finally snapped out of it. That’s when I decided to come clean to him. He cried until his tears ran dry. He told me he read that leaflet too. What was worse was that he still blamed himself, even though he quit smoking the next day after that visit to the doctor.
Now, I don’t know how John feels, but I’m pretty sure he’s miserable. Remember that nurse, she said, “help others”. Well, maybe he’s your ticket out. Forgive him and help him forgive himself. Your friendship will be stronger for it.
On a happier note, I’ll talk to your father tonight about the trip. The doofus was reluctant you’d agree to come with us. Well, joke’s on him this time.
As far as I’m concerned, April is fine. I don’t think I’ll have any problems getting some time off. Oh, I can picture us now, sipping margaritas on the beach. Which reminds me, I need to get a new bathing suit. You think I can still pull off a two-piece? Haha, just kidding.
Love you lots.
Chapter 7
No matter the weather, I’ve always celebrated the first day of Spring. My parents believed it was the day Mother Nature was most balanced and optimistic. Whatever you’re doing in life, do it like it was the first day of Spring my mother used to tell me. Not so easy when someone breaks into your bank account and orders one thousand black dildoes online which get shipped overnight to your house. But that’s another story for another time.
This year’s first day of Spring was on a Monday. We celebrated it that evening because I’ve considered it bad luck to celebrate before an event actually takes place. I called up Mark and my friend Carmen to join in on the festivities. Well, “festivity” is an overstatement - we just eat together and at dusk we tie silk strings from the branches of our trees for good fortune and fertility.
Mark called to say he was leaving work early to get here before the sun was down and that he had a surprise for me. Gee, a surprise!
“You think this surprise has breasts?” laughed Pete.
“I don’t know, but if it does, please don’t scare her away!” I said.
“So I’m guessing pretending we’re nudists and surprise her in our birthday suits is off the table then, huh?”
I couldn’t stop laughing. “Where do you get these ideas from? Besides, Carmen will be here too, and I don’t think she’ll appreciate seeing your genitals right off the bat like that.”
“Oh, I think she will. The last time she saw a naked man, Napoleon was invading Moscow.”
Frankly, I didn’t think she would have cared at all. Carmen was never interested in the masculine side of our species. She loved the beauty and spark of other women. That’s why she settled on the Cape in her twenties.
The first time I met her was at City Hall. We were both waiting in line to get out Shellfish license. Out of nowhere she turned to me and said: “Our clerk doesn’t have much time left to live. A disease is eating him up from the inside.”
I was baffled. He seemed healthy enough to me. When it was finally her turn to pick up the license, she leaned over to him, touched his hand and whispered something into his ear. His eyes immediately teared up.
She was outside the building, on a bench, eating salt water taffy and reading the wanted ads.
“What did you tell him?” I asked as I sat down next to her.
“Tell your family,” she replied.
It’s been more than ten years from that day, plenty of time to get to know each other. As it turned out, she had a sense for the unseen - the more she read about the occult, the more she found out about herself. She practiced traditional white magic and people from all over the country came to see her for advice, potions and to break curses placed upon them. As for myself, I’ve always liked her for her friendship, her utterly relaxed view on life, her respect for nature and wond
erful pastry dishes.
She was the first to arrive at our house that Monday.
“Knock, knock!” she said opening the front door and a chilly wind crept in behind her. “Anybody home?”
“Pete’s still showering and I’m in the bedroom,” I shouted from the other room. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be out in a second.”
“Take your time,” she said. “I need to grab the muffins out of the car anyway.”
She brought chocolate muffins with raisins, a lemon custard pie and freshly baked bread with olives and dried tomatoes. My menu consisted of a broccoli cream soup with gorgonzola and cream and a light chicken casserole with zucchini, lemon zest and topped with a sour cream, eggs, and chives foam.
Soon after she arrived, we heard a car park outside.
“It must be Mark!” I said, cheering with excitement.
We were all anxious to find out what the big surprise was. Pete was about to peep through the window, but I held him tight.
“You’re not ruining this,” I said. “And remember - behave yourself!”
He walked in first with a bottle of wine and right behind him…
“Johnny boy,” screeched Pete, jolting towards them.
Mark’s eyes locked with mine; they read peace and forgiveness. I replied with a long warm hug to his short thank-you nod.
“I hope we didn’t miss the festivities,” he said, taking off his cap and scarf. “We left as soon as we could. We had to sneak out of a meeting, but John here was such a good sport that he even faked a mild faint to get us out of there.”
“Yeah, well, I learned from the best fainter I know,” said John, joking about Mark’s collapse in his apartment.
“How very mature of you two,” I nagged. “You know, you shouldn’t joke about things like that.”
“Well, the past is the past and the point is that we’re here. So, did we miss it?”
“Come in. You didn’t miss anything. We still have a half an hour until sundown. Let’s all have some of this warm delicious soup your mother made,” said Pete, leading the way to the neatly set table.
John noticed the number of plates matched the number of people in the room.
“Were you expecting anyone else?” he asked.
Pete wanted to blab something about a guest with breasts, I’m sure, but it cut it short:
“We always put an extra set to show all guests are welcome in our house.”
We sat down and enjoyed the soup, then Carmen and I gave out the silk strings to everyone. The bright red setting sun cast a vivid glow on the sparkling snow. Carmen told us that a red sunset foretold a clear-skied tomorrow. We put our jackets on and went outside. The village was quiet and eerie, the waves smashing on the shore like a metronome set a low tempo on which we moved with ease. The only neighbors out and about were walking their dogs. We greeted them, wishing them a happy spring, and, although uncommon to them, they greeted us back in the same way.
We were not parents and sons and friends - we were all kids, laughing as we pulled down the branches and the snow twinkled down on our faces. There was no sorrow and no past; there was no future, either. Just a magical present to which we all felt lucky to be a part of.
Chapter 8
The house was warm and the chicken casserole gave out a wonderful citrus smell from inside the oven.
“Mark told me about the trip you’re all going on. Aruba, right?” said John.
“Not just Aruba, but a small wooden cottage by the beach in Aruba,” answered Pete, glowing with anticipation.
“Well, that will surely help you clear your head, won’t it, Mark?” asked John.
“Yeah, I guess,” he replied with hesitation.
“Oh, come on, sport! It looks to me that I’m the only one excited for this trip,” said Pete, pouring wine into everyone’s glasses. “Between your moping and your mom’s worrying about what kind of swimsuit to buy, I’m stuck trying to cheer you both up. Now, let’s all raise our glasses and toast to this beautiful day of spring. May we be healthy, happy and smashing hot in our bathing suits!”
The glasses clinked, the chicken was done and we sat down to enjoy the main course.
“There’s just one thing I need to do before leaving,” said Mark. “I need to see Jane.”
The topic fell like a ton of bricks on all of us, but John appeared to take most of the damage.
“The whole mess with those damned flowers, I just can’t get over it!” he added, cracking his knuckles. “I’m gonna wait for her at the university and explain that there is no one else, no B, no C, and most certainly, no ex.”
Carmen was quiet. She’s usually a very talkative person, but ever since the boys came, she withdrew in an invisible cocoon. Now came her time to speak.
“You will find troubled waters and burnt bridges,” is all she said, enough to usher in a morbid silence.
“Thank you, Carmen!” said Pete. “Jolly as always.”
“Maybe she’s right, Pete,” I said. “Her trust is shattered now and when she looks at you, the first things she’ll see are the cracks.”
“I’m gonna do it anyway. I have to,” said Mark, giving me a determined look.
We had some coffee with the muffins Carmen brought, and the boys excused themselves to return to the city. Carmen stayed a little longer. She wasn’t feeling well.
“Someone has targeted your son, Hope. There’s a hex clouding his judgment. I’m not sure who the caster is, but I fear they might also be responsible for his health issues back in February.”
Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what Carmen said. I trusted her gift, her powerful intuition that transcended to the spiritual realm. Yet this time, I hoped she was wrong. Just this once. She assured me she would meditate on the issue and do her hocus-pocus - I never could remember the terms and actions she was doing, so we both agreed that I would refer to them as hocus-pocus, regardless of how trivial it might sound. Eventually, I let go of my thoughts and fell asleep under the smooth sound of the waves crashing in the distance.
The next couple of days seemed normal enough for us to put aside our fears and focus on the positive. Alas, back in Boston, Mark was going through a tornado of turmoil. I haven’t mentioned Carmen’s hunch to anyone else, but then, my son sent me an e-mail.
Mom,
I buried Jumbo today. He died while I was at work. He was only five years old. There’s nothing more I can say right now.
I’ll talk to you soon.
Mark.
I felt so sorry for him. I knew he loved that dog deeply. He’d found it roaming around his street, all beaten up and with a bleeding ear. He took care of it, tried to find out if it belonged to anyone, and eventually became his friend. Now Jumbo was gone.
The next morning I woke up to another e-mail from him. It was sent very early in the morning from his phone.
I dreamt I was on a beach, the sky was covered in flying insects, swarming over the sea like a tornado. They were plunging toward a red sea. I looked closer and saw Jumbo being bitten by these things. I ran into the water to save him and something grabbed my legs and pulled me down to the bottom. As I reached the seabed I saw Jane. Her face was covered in algae and crabs were coming out of her mouth as she tried to speak. Then, out of nowhere, I was immobilized on a hospital bed and Jumbo was sitting on my chest. His face was covered in blood and as I tried to move he began to gnaw at me. I looked down and I saw that my chest was open and he had been eating my organs. I woke up drenched in cold sweat and now I can’t get rid of this feeling of Jumbo still sitting on my chest. I’m gonna go for a run or something. Call me when you read this.
So I did.
“Hi, honey,” I said, happy he’d answered so quickly.
“Hi, mom. Did you get my e-mail?”
“And what a weird e-mail that was! How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, to be honest,” he said, and it was the happiest I’ve heard him in a long while. “I couldn’t sleep anymore so
I went out for a jog. And out there, in the freezing cold, I came across a bunch of homeless people, standing around outside of a church. It turns out that there’s a group of volunteers, all working at restaurants across town, who save all the food that is left over and instead of throwing it away, they bring it here and fix these guys warm meals every day.”
“Bless their hearts!”
“Yes, well, as it turns out, they still need more people to help out, so I decided to help. I’ll go every other day. I’m sure they’ll have something for me to do. Hey, maybe I can finally learn how to cook a meal ar two, huh?” I could feel his smile and for a moment, I had forgotten all about black magic curses and dogs eating away my son’s heart.
“Hope, come see this!” I heard Pete calling me from the porch.
“Honey, I have to hang up. Your father is calling me.”
There was a lumpy purple bundle in the middle of our porch. My husband reached down and opened its weird knots. Inside was a litter of black kittens. Pete lifted them one by one, just to find them all dead. A cold shiver went down my spine.
“Well, this is odd. These knots seemed to be man-made. Do we know anyone around here who has a black cat,” he asked, “because I’m going to pay them a special visit.”
“This is an omen. I have to call Carmen,” I said and immediately dialed her number. I asked her to join me for lunch at my office, and since she didn’t have any appointments that day, she agreed.
Chapter 9
She sat quietly as I told her about these curious cases of Mark’s pet and now this strange dead kittie litter on our porch.
“Did you or your son have had any visions, like perhaps someone is around you?”
“Me, no, but my son had a very strange dream the other night.”
I showed her Mark’s e-mail. Her verdict?
“Darling, you have a black magic curse on your hands. Now, don’t be scared. I can give your son some remedies to fight it off, but these will only work temporarily. They are mild rituals and incantations for him to repel the incoming hexes, but as long as the caster remains unknown, there is nothing more I can do. The problem with this is that whoever has targeted your son, might be able to hurt him even more. Can you think of anyone who might be doing this to him? Anyone that feels threatened by him, or maybe someone who he has hurt and demands retribution?”
Mystery: Black Feathers: A Secret Hope ( Book 1 of Series) Page 3