“Coffee could be better,” Junlit said, dipping his whole head into the cup.
The rest of them nodded sagely, but my mood was too good to be broken by such a critique.
I did it, I actually did something right.
I prayed it was a sign of more to come.
****
In the end, I threw away many a pancake that day. I'm not ashamed to say I finished off one or two, myself, that had clearly not even been touched.
I'd owned a dishwasher most of my adult life. Seeing that I had to do it all by hand, here, was annoying. It's not so hard, at least. It's something I can figure out, it's just labor.
The plates, left to drip in a large strainer, looked clean enough in my opinion. Drying my hands on my pants, I flipped open the stack of chores to see what was next.
Most everything required a tool of some kind. Exploring the house, I found a small closet under the stairs. It was packed with buckets, brooms, and a rather beaten up mop.
Reaching up in the dark space, I yanked hard on the handle of the broom. Come on, just... Grunting hard, I braced my foot on what I thought was the floor. With one, victorious pull, I felt my prize come free.
My proud smile didn't last long.
Brown as mud, a number of spiders (I certainly couldn't count them) rained down on me. Screaming, I tried to back up, only to find my foot stuffed in a bucket.
The crash of every tool, as well as my own body, echoed through the halls. Plastic buckets spun across the floor, and I threw the mop like it was a weapon at the closet. “Ugh! Oh gosh! No no no!”
Scrambling into the shadows, the spiders vanished quickly. I couldn't win. Seeing them or losing sight, both results were awful.
These damn dark places, I can't tell where, or what, or... or anything.
Tugging myself free, I looked over the wide room of stairs. The dimness lived here, extending from floor to ceiling. The thick glass was useless at allowing in the sun.
My eyes fell across the way, landing firmly on the strings of bulbs. I knew what needed to be done, what had to trump every other scheduled thing Grault had listed for me in his neat writing.
I needed to get the lights on.
Brushing cobwebs off of my hair, shivering at the imagined sensation of crawly legs, I scurried up to my bedroom. With Tessa's lantern in tow, I set about exploring the way the lights were strung.
They just hang here, not even plugged in. Is there even electricity running through this place?
It was a real revelation. The wood stove was one thing, but this... Rubbing my chin, I strolled down to Tessa's study. It didn't feel like it belonged to me anymore than it had yesterday.
Setting the lantern on the desk, I peered at the tall walls of books. It was clear my grandmother had loved reading, the first thing I thought we had in common.
Well, I mulled to myself as I looked up at the eerie painting, that, and our looks. It was hard not to stare at the portrait. Tessa really did look like me, from her pink nose to the sideways smile.
It was an astounding piece of art. The dog sitting beside her looked so real, its snout gleaming wetly. Reaching out, I resisted the urge to brush my fingers over the material. It's too irreplaceable to mess with.
Turning, I started browsing the thick tomes. Denying the idea of magic or mystical things seemed useless. There was a chance, I figured, that Tessa kept books I might find useful. Maybe something about turning on those lights.
Coughing at the dust, I lost track of time. Eventually, I had stacks of books piled all around me. Yawning, I rubbed my arm over my eyes. “This isn't going so well,” I said out loud.
Turning in place, I squinted at the smooth desk beside me. I hadn't explored it yet. Maybe there's something in it besides money?
The back of it had a few rows of drawers. Tugging them timidly, I found them stuffed with a variety of contents. It was a photo book that drew me in instantly.
Lifting the heavy thing free, I spread it on the desk. The cover was made of leather, glued all over in plastic jewels and sequins. It was childish in nature, but that just made me more curious.
Reverently, I peeled the cover back. Inside were photos, mostly black and white, but all of one thing.
Tessa. These are of Tessa... and... Almost all of the photos on the first few pages contained the young girl, and her big furry friend. It was certainly the dog from the painting.
Thumbing through quickly, I didn't know what I was even looking for. Not until I found a photo of Tessa, her teeth faded white in a proud smile, holding up a glowing bulb. My hands were shaking as I tugged it from the plastic slot. This is Tessa casting a spell, isn't it?
Lifting it high, I scrutinized the photo. I wished I'd discovered old videotapes instead. It was certainly my grandmother doing something amazing with a light bulb, but it didn't offer me many answers beyond that.
Sighing, I almost put it back when something caught my eye. Turning the photo revealed faded writing on the backside. It said:
'First try! Made it light up! Thought of Bizzy and it worked!'
My mouth scrunched tight. First try, she says. Tessa really was talented... but who is Bizzy?
Too many new questions were entering my head. I needed to focus. If she was really able to light the bulbs up with just her thoughts, maybe...
Maybe I could too.
Slipping the photo back, I left the album on the desk. The lantern felt heavy to me when I finally stood in the room of staircases.
Setting it down on the floor, I bent close to the bulbs. I could see my reflection in their surface. So just think really hard, I guess.
But about what?
Closing my eyes seemed appropriate. Soon, with hands clenched at my sides, my temples were pulsing. I had no clue what I was doing. Casting spells, summoning magic, willing light into existence; it all seemed out of reach.
It wasn't surprising, yet still truly disappointing, when I opened my eyes to find the bulbs still dead. “Dammit,” I huffed, kicking the wall gently.
Crossing my arms, I considered the wide room and all its dark corners. It was obvious everyone here was holding me up against Tessa, and here I was, failing at every turn.
Staring down at the floor, the yellow of the lantern drew me in. It reminded me of the bright color of the marigolds...
And the sun itself.
My eyes flashed with a wave of determination. Failing at every turn? No, that's not quite right. I took a chance and made that tea on my own. I did it my way, and it worked out pretty okay!
I wasn't Tessa, and I couldn't hold a candle to her skills.
But it was possible that I didn't need to.
Chapter Ten.
It took only two knocks before Dirk answered his door. “Farra,” he said, blinking owlishly. Glancing side to side, like I might have an ambush waiting, he opened his door further. “What are you doing here?”
I pointed to the sky. “Solar panels. Where can I buy them?”
“Nice to see you, too,” he chuckled.
“Sorry,” I said, clasping my hands to my chest. “That was rude, I know, it's just kind of an emergency!”
His eyes flitted up to the roof above, then back to me. “A solar panel emergency. You don't say.”
“It's not technically an emergency,” I said, wishing I could explain myself better. Well, what's stopping me? “Dirk, I need to get electricity flowing in Tessa's house.”
Understanding seeped into his face like rain to soil. “That does sound important. But why solar panels?”
My fingers dug into my thighs. I bent over like I'd been running. “You said before, you knew about Tessa. That must mean you know she took care of that place, of everything, with... magic?” Saying the word out loud still made my skin warm.
I saw him look around again, his voice a hush. “Aye. I'm guessing you're looking for another method, then. But why would you do that?” he asked, eyeing me with doubt. “You aren't able to do magic, are—”
I was q
uick to stop him there. “Let's just say I need to do things my own way.”
Dirk considered me in silence, his hands gripping the door-frame. It felt wonderful when he finally flashed his kind smile. “Right. I get it.”
“So you'll tell me where I can buy those panels?” I asked excitedly.
“That's a bit of a problem,” he sighed, taking his hat from his head. He fingered the brim thoughtfully. “You'd need to have them shipped in by train, Farra. That could take weeks.”
Weeks. Weeks is too long. Deflating, I let my hands fall to my sides. Now what will I do?
The doctor's strong hand on my shoulder startled me, brought me back to where I was. “It's true that a few weeks is a long time. That's why I'll do you one better.” I saw the silver shine of a filling in his mouth. “I'll let you have mine. Sound good?”
“I—wha—bwa—I can't just take yours!”
Laughing, he gripped my other shoulder and gave me a small shake. “Of course you can, Farra. I insist. I'll even load them up in my wagon and help you set them up. That is,” he said, appraising me suddenly, “unless you happen to know how to install and run solar panels already?”
“No,” I said, a helpless smile taking over. “No, I don't really know a thing about it.”
“Then it's settled,” he grunted, turning to head back inside. “Let me get some tools, and we can get those panels off and ready in no time flat.”
It felt like my heart was taking up the entire cavity of my chest. “Dirk, just... thanks. Thank you so much for this.”
In the hallway of his office, the doctor looked back and sent me a wink. “You can thank me by helping put your energy into the physical work. You know how to listen to directions?”
“That's something I think I can manage.” I hurried to follow him inside.
****
It was grueling.
Wiping my arm across my forehead, I stared at the hole I'd carved into the soft earth. I felt filthy, sweaty, and ready to jump into the nearby lake.
“You okay up there?” I called out, shading my eyes from the late-day sun. Dirk was a splotch of shadow on the roof, astounding me with how agile he was.
He waved back, shouting down with the bare hint of a wheeze. “Just fine. Almost done getting these attached!”
The setup was amazingly advanced, I was positive I couldn't have done it without the doctor. He'd shown me how to run rope up around the chimney, to wrap the panels up safely so I could pull them up to him. Stringing wires from there, down to the earth through the holes I'd dug...
It was all very complex.
Despite the way my muscles ached from the lifting, the shoveling, my excitement of what we were doing kept my energy topped off.
One thing bothered me, though. I'd assumed with all the noise we were making that Grault would make his presence known. He had to realize we were constructing something on the house.
So why haven't I seen him at all?
Dirk's voice broke into my train of thought. “Farra, I'm coming down, hold that ladder.”
Dropping the shovel, I hurried to grip the base of the ladder where it rested on the house. Dirk had brought every tool I could imagine, loading it all up in a big wagon of his.
The structure shook as he climbed down, and he was slower than when he'd gone up. Strong or not, he's tired now. He helped me out so much with this... I don't even know how to repay him.
He jumped the last rung with a grunt, dusting himself off. We were both a mess, that was obvious. “Dirk,” I said brightly, “you've done so much already. How about we take a break, go jump in the water over there and cool off?”
Strangely, he didn't even glance at the lake. “No no, let's finish this project in one go. I'll need to go inside to run the wires. Nothing fancy, just a few spots to plug extension cords. I'm not entirely sure this place is safe enough to risk anything else.”
My mouth fell open. “Oh. Uh. You need to go inside? Really?”
Dirk pulled the ladder off the wall, shrinking it down to fit in the wagon. “'Course. It won't take long, I'll just be feeding the cords through some holes.”
“It's just, well,” I babbled, trying to think on my feet. I didn't get far.
He turned to me, finally meeting my eyes with that gentle, but serious, stare of his. “Farra, calm down. I already told you, I've been inside before.”
That's right... when he helped with Tessa. I forgot all about that.
“Come on, then,” he said gently. Adjusting his hat, he led the way around to the front door. We had to squeeze through the thicket and brush that had overgrown the sides of the house.
At the last second, before he could grab the knob, I jumped onto the top step and did it first. It felt irresponsible to let him be the one to enter in the lead, though I couldn't explain why. Was I just nervous about him seeing the guests? Hadn't he already?
What was I trying to protect him from?
In the darkness of the main room, Grault was waiting for us.
His arms were folded tight, his body half-hidden by the tall reception-style desk. Even in the low light, his displeasure was clear. “What are you doing, Miss Blooms?”
I gasped, clutching my chest and spreading smudges of dirt. “Jeez! Grault, don't lurk like that.”
“What,” he repeated sternly, “are you doing?”
Dirk moved beside me, looking at Grault with the same calmness in his voice. “Getting some lights going in here. Hello, Grault.”
“Doctor,” he responded, inclining his head so slightly it was easy to miss.
Staring between them, I pushed my hair from my forehead nervously. The tension wasn't exactly tangible, but I was sure there was something going on in front of me. They knew each other, and did not seem fond of the company. “It's just like he said, Grault. I'm getting things fixed around here. Okay?”
The tall man didn't seem convinced. Yet, to his credit, he just looked down at the book in front of him and shrugged. “It is your house, Miss Blooms.”
He doesn't like this, or he doesn't believe what I'm doing will work. Is that it?
Dirk walked to the right, heading towards the staircases. It was surreal, following him around the building. He knew where he was going, didn't ask me at all for advice.
He'd carried in a small bag. Watching him curiously, I saw him drill a hole in the far corner of the room. Then, he repeated this in the kitchen, the dining room, and finally in the hall upstairs.
The whole time, I kept looking around uneasily. No one was showing themselves, they seemed to be hiding.
“Now,” Dirk said, making me jump. He must have seen my flicker of surprise, he stopped what he was about to say. “Farra, please calm down. I know what you're thinking, and it's alright.”
“I—you know? What?”
He hooked the bag of tools over his arm. “You're not subtle. Anyway, you don't need to worry about me. Your 'guests' aren't going to come out with me here.”
I wrinkled my forehead. “How can you know that?”
The hint of sadness in his tone just added to my curiosity. “They're pretty shy with people. Come on, I've got to run the wires through these holes.”
It was a quick process compared to everything else. He'd had me buy a few things in town before we'd set out. Among them were the thick cords we pushed through the tunnels, running them from the small metal box he'd had me dig a spot for in the ground. It was sort of ugly, wires sliding down the side of the house like vines, vanishing into the earth. Then, appearing again where they burrowed into the battery box we'd tucked away.
From that, we poked the cords into the house, each of them attached to a power strip. It really was a bit hacked together, but I just wanted it to work.
Anything that worked was my goal.
“Now what happens?” I asked, standing beside him and gazing up at the roof. The sun was heading away, burning brightest before it would vanish behind the hills.
The doctor gathered up his wagon, piling the t
ools in the center. “The power-cells should have left some charge in the battery from running for me. You should be able to go plug some things in, get some lights on.”
“But what if it doesn't work?” I blurted, imagining the labor, the expense, all going to waste.
His laugh was loud, rising deep from his gut. “Farra,” he said, struggling to speak. “You're hurting this old man's feelings. Trust me, it will all work. Okay?”
My smile was uncertain, but it was hard to deny Dirk's confidence. “Okay.” He gave a nod, tugging the brim of his cap down. I recognized that motion, what it meant, even before he turned away. “Wait! You're going, now? Don't you want to see it all work?”
He rolled the wagon away from the house slowly. “As to that, I believe I have already overstayed my welcome. You just come tell me about it all real soon, alright Farra?”
The guilt I felt was cold, slick as rain. I knew it wasn't my fault, yet I felt responsible all the same. Grault wasn't happy to see him. “I'll see you soon, Dirk,” I said, waving my arm high. “Thank you again, you really helped me out!”
His wave was brief, the sound of the wagon wheels dragging over gritty dirt lasting far longer.
I rushed back into the house. Grault was still in the main entry, his eyes darting to me as I passed. “Miss Blooms—”
“Wait! Just wait,” I panted, sliding on the smooth floors of the halls. I needed to know if it would work, if everything would go as I hoped. There would be time for talking later.
Bending down, I studied the strip of sockets jutting from the base of the circular room. It was going to be hard to run much beyond basic lamps, but I thought that would be just fine.
Anything was better than what I had now.
My fingers were shaking, coated in filth. I stopped to wipe them on my pants, wondering suddenly where (and how) I would wash clothes here.
Focus, focus. Just plug in the bulbs.
There was only one wire attached to the string of lights, those glass orbs that had resisted my attempts at whatever 'magic' I possessed. I realized they were Christmas lights, a strange thing to keep year round. I thought that until I plugged them in.
Beautiful as fresh frost, they dazzled into existence. From floor to ceiling, the string glowed so white it lit up most of the wide room.
Protected by Stone (A Paranormal Romance Novel) Page 10