Escaping Fate

by Gladden, DelSheree

  He shuffled around me to an empty seat and slumped into it. “So you’ve changed you mind, have you?” he said. His comments were directed at the priest, but Father Margulies gave his answer to me.

  “Your grandfather has spent many years trying to convince me of the curse on his family. He showed me all the names and dates and pictures and told me the stories as well,” he said. He turned back to my grandpa. “I never said I didn’t believe you, Alden, you just didn’t like any of the explanations I tried to offer. You assume I do not believe because I didn’t just take everything you said at face value.”

  “You tried to work my family’s history into your church’s beliefs. That’s not why I came to you. I don’t want to hear you talk about the devil or evil spirits or whatever else you want to attribute this to. Those mean nothing to me,” my grandpa said. The heat in his voice shocked me. My grandpa never got angry. The only other emotion I’d ever seen him exhibit besides his usual cheerfulness was sadness, never anger. And at a priest, even.

  “Then why did you come to me?” Father Margulies asked.

  “Because…because you know about these kinds of things, dealing with gods and making promises. I wanted to understand what had happened,” he said.

  Now the priest turned back to me and Tanner. “And why have you two come to me today? For the same reason?”

  Tanner and I glanced at each other. “Not exactly,” I said. “My question is simple. How do we make it stop?”

  “Arrabella, if I knew the answer to that question, you would be at home in your bed, not sitting here in front of me,” he said.

  I looked over at Tanner, my eyes filling with tears. His hand was crushing mine and his eyes offered a silent apology.

  “There’s nothing left,” I whispered. Tanner’s suggestion had offered me hope again. The religions were miles apart, but there had to be enough similarities to give him some idea of what a god would want with so many dead young women. “Why is this happening?” I asked, looking up at the priest again.

  “Often one person’s choices affect much more than they ever expect. Sometimes the results are wonderful, and sometimes they are not,” he said.

  “What would this god want with me? I did nothing to deserve this. Why doesn’t he punish Kivera instead?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Perhaps he thought making her live with her decision would be more of a punishment than taking her life. The reasoning behind what an Aztec god, real or not, wants is probably beyond me, but I am familiar with other vindictive powers in this world and such beings often simply want to spread their misery as far as possible,” the priest said.

  “There has to be a way to stop this,” Tanner said. “You must have some idea of what we can do.”

  Father Margulies leaned forward in his chair, bringing his face close to mine. “The woman in the story was punished for her selfishness. It may be that only an act of selfless love and courage can break the chain.”

  “What does that mean?” Tanner asked.

  The priest leaned back. “It is just a thought, Tanner. I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything more.”

  Tanner stewed in his seat. He had such hope in this idea. Failure streaked across his features, but I sat calmly in my chair. I was glad we had come to visit Father Margulies. Even though he had no prayer or exorcism that could free me from this fate, his last words struck something inside of me. He believed the chain of death could be broken if someone could just figure out what it would take to do it.

  Would I be the one? I had very little faith that I would, but there was hope that someone would. If I didn’t find that answer in the next few hours, maybe the next person in this line of contrition would find a way. Maybe I would at least be the last.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The dark mahogany wood was soft and smooth, polished by countless hands gripping the pew in search of comfort and guidance. My grandpa had wanted to leave, and even Tanner had looked longingly toward the door, but I needed the peace the chapel offered. Pacing in the foyer, my grandpa was wrestling with his own ideas and dilemmas. Tanner, I had encouraged to take a few minutes to speak with his priest.

  I wasn’t Catholic and had no intentions of becoming one, but I didn’t want to be the reason Tanner turned away from his faith just because Father Margulies could not come up with the answer my family had been searching for for centuries. Hoping he would be able to reconcile his feelings, I let my head fall down to the pew in front of me. I didn’t pray. I really didn’t even know how to pray even if I wanted to. Sitting with my head against the cool wood I closed my eyes and tried to picture Katie.

  My dad said that I would have liked her. I wondered what she was thinking about when she woke up that day. She didn’t know everything I knew, but the dreams alone would have been enough to convince her of what lay ahead. Did she wake up hoping that it was all a big joke, or did she open her eyes knowing it would be the last time she did? Did she think about her family and the things she would miss?

  Picking my backpack up off the floor, I settled it in my lap. I had brought it knowing deep down that I would need it. I had packed the bag yesterday, before even considering telling Tanner anything about this. I thought I would wake up alone and slip out of the house to the meadow where I met Tanner. I knew so few places in this town. In thinking of where to spend the last few hours of my life, I had quickly decided on the meadow. Amid terrifying dreams and legends it was the one place I had been happy.

  Wishing I could be there now, I unzipped my backpack. The stationary my mother used was formal and elegant. Pulling a thick sheet of paper out, I set it to the side. The pen was somewhere in the bottom of the bag, but my fingers found it with a quick sweep and pulled it out along with an old school binder.

  The crisp stationary made a soft whisk as I settled it in place. Shaking too much to write, I tapped my foot as I tried to draw the air into my lungs deeply enough to settle my tremors. I needed to do this. I could not leave my dad behind thinking he might have been responsible for yet another death. Slowly feeling returned to my fingertips and the words began to flow.

  “Dear Mom and Dad,

  “I don’t know when you will find this letter, but I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do it in person.

  “Mom, you may not understand any of this, but I know you will, Dad.

  “Mom, I love you so much. I love how you tried so hard to protect me from the world. I’m sorry for all the times I’ve tried your patience. Your gentle heart made you a push over, but I never doubted for a second that you would be one of those women who would be able to pull their child from a burning building or give up your life to save a stranger. You were always such a strength to me.

  “Dad, you know I love you. I should have told you more often. I want you to know that there was nothing you could have done to stop this from happening. There was nothing you could have done for Katie either. I understand what she went through so much better now. I know that she doesn’t blame you either and that she would want you to forgive yourself.

  “When you are ready, go to Grandpa. He can explain what happened. It won’t make it any less painful, but it may be better than spending the rest of your life wondering if you could have saved me.

  “Please tell David that I love him too. I will miss his constant teasing and his boundless energy. Tell him that I will miss his smile and big brother hugs more than he can ever know.

  “I can’t tell you not to cry or feel bad, because I know I wouldn’t be able to do that either. All that I do ask is that you don’t forget me.

  “I love you both so much.

  “I’m sorry.

  “Arra.”

  The page was splattered with drops of moisture, smearing the ink in more than one place, but I couldn’t bear to recopy the words. Folding the sheet in thirds, I sealed it in one of my mom’s envelopes and addressed it simply, “Mom and Dad”.

  Tucking the letter into my backpack I knew my mom wou
ld find it eventually. It might take a while for her to pack up my things, but she would when the pain eased up enough to let her say goodbye. I just hoped it wouldn’t take too long. I considered telling my grandpa about the letter so my parents would find it as soon as possible but the sound of approaching steps reached my ears before I made my decision.

  Tanner slid in beside me and took my hands in his. “How are you holding up?”

  “Okay, I guess.” It was true, surprisingly enough. I had questioned if knowing would be any help at one point. I knew now that it did. For me, at least, it did. I still regretted that I would not see David graduate from college, or get to attend myself. I wished I would have been able to go to the bonfire with Tanner tomorrow night. But in the end knowing helped me to feel at least a little prepared. I knew what was coming and I would face it no matter what the outcome was.

  “I’m sorry about dragging you into this, Tanner.”

  “Don’t be. I’m glad you told me. I’m glad we got this time together. I’ll never forget it,” he said. My heart broke a little to hear him say that. It sounded like he had accepted the inevitable too.

  There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but I just leaned against his shoulder and let him hold me until everything melted away.

  “Arra. Arra, wake up.”

  I heard the word, but it was the soft touch of Tanner’s lips against my ear as he whispered that woke me. Opening my eyes I saw nothing but mahogany. I don’t know how I even managed to fall asleep, but at least it had been a dreamless sleep. Somehow I had ended up with my head on Tanner’s lap and my feet up on the bench. Probably not the most reverent way to sit in a pew. Or the most comfortable. Pushing myself up, pain flared in my neck and shoulder.

  Why had Tanner woken me up? Was it time already? I bolted upright. “Tanner? What’s happening?” I asked.

  “It’s okay, Arra. Sorry to wake you, but your grandpa wanted you to meet him in the garden,” Tanner whispered.

  “The garden?” My mind was still a little groggy. What garden was he talking about?

  “Behind the church. Father Margulies suggested it,” Tanner explained.

  A garden behind a Catholic church. That was where I would die. Was that fitting, or ironic? I wasn’t really sure. It seemed like it would only bring up more questions, like how had I managed to die just sitting in a garden behind a church? Katie and Maera were both doing something that at least might have account for their deaths. What could any coroner say about me? My heart would just stop while I was taking in the scents of the summer blooms.

  That would kill my dad. He would want an explanation, especially after Katie. But maybe this was better, I thought. It would just be a freak occurrence. I was healthy, current on all my vaccinations and physical exams. There was nothing my dad could blame himself for. It would break his heart, but maybe not his mind as well.

  “Are you ready to go?” Tanner asked. He cringed, hearing the double meaning in his words. I nodded, to both questions, and he took my hand.

  Stepping aside, he waited for me to grab my backpack and make my way to the aisle. The walk through the church was quiet and still. There were no other patrons. The emptiness was lightened by the light filtering in through the high stained glass windows. The hallway we walked down look as if it had been paved in precious gems. For a moment I felt like Alice, or Dorothy, or a dozen other fairytale girls, except that I was not on my way to find a prince or live happily ever after.

  Even still, I was saddened when Tanner pulled me from the dazzling hall toward a door nestled at the back of the church. It was square, made of plain looking wood, sturdy, but old. Nothing special. Nothing special to anyone else maybe, but Tanner and I slowed to a stop right in front of it. Neither of us wanted to open it.

  Tanner’s hand came up to my chin and tilted my head to look up at him. His eyes tore at my heart. Every emotion running amok in my own heart was staring back at me through his eyes. All except the panic. I had put my panic aside with the hope that someday this would all end. Tanner had either not been so lucky, or he did not care about when it might end, only that it hadn’t ended already.

  He was piercing me with his eyes, and then he was pressing his lips against mine. It was nothing like his earlier kisses, light and playful. His fingers tangled themselves in my hair and pulled me against him. I found that mine were doing the same. His hair was coarse from the sun, but his lips were silk against mine. Passion and desperation wrapped themselves around us, mixing with the tears falling from both of our eyes.

  Slowly the moment ebbed away and we were left crying with each other in front of the old wooden door that stood waiting to be opened. Loosening my grip on Tanner wasn’t easy, but somehow I found the strength to let go and reach for the brass doorknob. I turned it and the light of full dawn swept into the hall.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I saw my grandpa as soon as I entered the garden. It was a small area, sheltered by trees on one side and opened to the grass and flowers on the other three. Under the shade of one of the trees, my grandpa sat calmly on a wooden bench. Letting go of Tanner completely, I walked over to the bench and took the seat next to him. Tanner stepped back giving us our privacy and waited with Father Margulies.

  “Did you get a little sleep?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, Grandpa, I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. I should have been helping you. I’ve just been so tired since all of this started.” Maybe at least after I was dead I might get a little rest.

  Wrapping his weathered arm around me, he pulled me close to his chest. “No, it’s good you got some rest. You may need it before the end.”

  “Grandpa, there nothing left. I know you want to believe you can change what will happen, but you just can’t. We’ve run out of time,” I said. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “What, Arra?”

  “Promise that you’ll keep trying. We may be too late now, but it will happen again, and maybe by then you’ll have figured it out. Just promise you’ll keep trying,” I asked.

  “Of course I will, but don’t give up yet,” he said. He stroked my hair for a few seconds before asking, “Did you tell your parents where you were going this morning?”

  “I left a note,” I said quietly. “I told them I was going over to your house and that we were going to visit a friend of yours. It’s not much of a goodbye, is it?”

  “Hopefully, goodbye won’t be necessary.”

  “I almost stayed,” I said, “I wanted to have a few more hours with them, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to put them through that, watching me die, especially not Dad. I can’t do that to him.” I looked at my grandpa with guilt in my eyes. I had thought so much about protecting my dad from all of this, he seemed to need it so badly, but how much had I thought of my grandpa? “I don’t want to do this to you either, Grandpa. You’ve already lost so much. I feel so selfish expecting you to go through it all again. I just don’t think I can do it alone.”

  He dried my tears with his fingers, brushing them away as fast as they could fall.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked.

  His shoulders sagged. “I’m not completely sure, honey, but promise I won’t leave you alone for a minute. I have had more than twenty years to figure out what to do. I won’t lie and say I’ve figured everything out, but I’m not going into this blindly either. Just don’t let go,” he said, grasping my hand tightly.

  His tone was so calm and sure. Did he have a plan? I wondered what he was still holding back. “How did you know what ceremony to ask Mr. Gadner about?” I asked.

  His face and voice were calm, but he gripped my hand so tightly it started to hurt. “I went through all of this after Katie died. I knew then that the stories were real. I went to South America for a few weeks to see some of my family, others who knew the curse was real. I needed to hear the stories from someone closer to the source. Women are usually the story keepers in families, but not ours.

  “My great uncle was
bedridden from illness and age, but when he heard why I was there, he summoned me to his sick bed. He told me a secret that he had never told another soul, not even his wife. When his daughter died, like Katie and Maera did, he was right next to her. They were tending their goats together out in the fields when she suddenly started screaming. He said she leapt up and ran as fast as she could. He barely caught up to her before it happened.

  “He grabbed her arm to stop her, and suddenly they weren’t in the fields anymore. They stood, both of them, on top of an ancient temple.” My grandpa struggled to control his emotions. “He was taken with her, but he couldn’t do anything to save her. They held him and forced him to watch his own daughter die. After that, he knew every detail of the ceremony. It wasn’t hard for him to find his answers then.

  “He was so stunned. He had no idea how to help his daughter. Like me he didn’t believe the stories until it was too late. I don’t know that I can be any more successful than my great uncle was, but I will try. I have spent so many years searching for answers. They won’t take you from me, Arra, I promise,” he said, his calmness returned. He smiled down at me. “Just don’t let go of my hand.”

  “I won’t, Grandpa,” I said, my eyes wide. He was scared, I knew that, but he had a plan, I knew that too. I knew why he would not tell me what it was as well. He was afraid it wouldn’t work. Even that thought soothed me. Not able to come up with anything useful myself, I threw every ounce of willpower into believing in my grandpa. Whatever he was planning, even if he didn’t believe it would work, it was more than I had. I did trust him. I hugged him even more tightly and hoped.

  Sitting quietly on the bench, we watched the flowers blow in the breeze, neither of us speaking. Tanner and the priest stood watch as well. Tanner’s looked ready to run to my side, but Father Margulies held him by the arm. I guessed that might have had something to do with the story my grandpa had just told me.