Katherine's Prophecy

by Scott Wittenburg

  Emily felt cheated because she wasn’t being told something that she felt she had a right to know. During one of her visits thereafter, she’d taken Miss Rutledge aside and asked her why she and her grandfather no longer spoke of Grandma Katherine. Miss Rutledge explained that her grandfather sometimes got upset by all of the talk because it often stirred up certain memories that he had a difficult time dealing with. Emily had an odd feeling that Miss Rutledge had wanted to expound on this, but had for some reason decided against it.

  Not long after this incident, something unusual had occurred. Emily had been taking a bath one evening when her father had suddenly entered the bathroom—as he often did back then—and apologized for slapping her on the night that she’d asked him about the Porter house. It was the only time Emily could remember her father ever apologizing for striking her. He then told her that if it meant so much to her to go see the old house, that she had his permission; but that she would have to go without him.

  Emily couldn’t believe her ears. Her father proceeded to give her directions on how to get to the house and cautioned her to be careful out on the mountain. Emily had been so thrilled that she threw her arms around him and kissed him, confused but elated at her father’s rare gesture of kindness.

  Little did she know at the tender age of ten that her father’s intentions hadn’t been quite what she had perceived them to be . . .

  A log suddenly shifted in the fireplace, causing Emily to flinch. She stood up and reached for the poker then rearranged the logs before settling down again. Cassie had awakened and hopped up into the chair beside her, resting her head on her lap. Emily petted her comfortingly as she stared vacantly into the flames.

  The next day, she had gotten up bright and early and set out to find the remains of the old house. She traversed the sprawling backyard until she spotted the obscured path that her father had referred to and followed it. After several yards, the path widened somewhat and resembled a dirt road more than a footpath. Emily soon found herself ambling along at a leisurely pace in spite of her anticipation; enthralled at the quiet beauty afforded by this new, uncharted territory. The air was cooler in the forest, the towering trees shadowing out the harsh rays of the summer sun, and the only sounds were that of an occasional songbird singing and the leaves of the trees rustling in the breeze.

  She had hiked nearly a mile when all of a sudden she spotted a clearing in the forest ahead of her. She quickened her pace until she reached the edge of the clearing then stood there for several moments frozen in her tracks.

  Before her stood the charred remains of her great-grandparents’ house, its most prominent feature being a tall stone chimney surrounded by the ashen rubble scattered within the foundation. She stood there for several moments, transfixed, and an eerie feeling swept over her, causing her to suddenly feel lightheaded and anxious.

  She drew closer to the ruins, taking one precarious step at a time until she was only a dozen feet away from the perimeter. Across from the house and to her left, she could see the remains of what had once been a shed or a barn, now a pile of gray weather-beaten lumber lying in a heap from where the roof had given way and caved in. She gazed back toward the house and spotted an outhouse off to the side about twenty feet away, which had somehow escaped the fire and looked as though a light breeze could blow it over at any moment. An old well with its spigot and pump arm still intact stood to her right between her and the foundation.

  Emily could see from the remains that the house had been very plain—one story with no more than two or three rooms—and devoid of any modern conveniences such as plumbing or electricity. She finally gathered up the courage to step into the boundaries of the foundation itself, feeling as though she were trespassing on hollowed ground. She stepped gingerly amongst the charred rubble in hopes of finding something which might give her a clue as to what it had been like living in the house so many years ago, but soon discovered that everything had been well picked-over through the years. She went over to the fireplace and found an old fork blackened by soot and picked it up then wiped it off on her blouse in hope of finding an engraving of some kind. But the fork was devoid of any markings, so she stuck it in her back pocket and continued combing through the debris. Finally, after another half-hour or so, she gave up her search.

  Feeling somewhat disconcerted, she went over to the edge of the clearing and discovered a footpath that led further into the woods. She followed the path for a distance of about fifty yards to where it suddenly cut down the side of a steep ravine. She peered down into the ravine and could see a creek at the bottom, the sound of its swift current audible from where she stood. After a few moments, she turned around and headed back to the clearing.

  Emily remained at the site for another hour or so, sitting on a log and staring pensively at the ruins. She thought about Katherine and her parents, who had once inhabited this house all those years ago until a fire had ended their lives together. She felt sorry for her grandmother, who had never even known her parents. It was odd, but she suddenly felt closer to Grandma Katherine after having finally visited this place. She felt drawn in; compelled to stay there—as if her presence held some kind of purpose. Her anxiety had abated, and she in fact suddenly felt a sense of security and peacefulness sitting amidst the long forsaken remnants of her family’s past. When Emily finally stood up to leave, she knew that she would return. Little had she known at that point in time just how significant that fact would come into play over the years to come.

  The next time she visited her grandfather and Miss Rutledge, Emily told Miss Rutledge about her visit to the house while her grandfather was out of the room. Miss Rutledge had an odd expression on her face when she showed her the fork that she’d found, and she had said something that puzzled her—that she had obviously inherited another one of Katherine’s traits: a boundless curiosity. Miss Rutledge told her that some day, when she was old enough to understand, she would tell her all about her Grandma Katherine. Emily, of course, had argued that she was already old enough to understand—that she was already ten years old and soon would be eleven—but Miss Rutledge had just smiled and said that she still needed a few more years yet. Her grandfather had suddenly entered the room and the subject was promptly dismissed, not to be addressed again for quite some time.

  Not long after her initial visit to the old house, Emily’s father had hired Miss Cooper to be her live-in nanny as well as housekeeper. From the very first moment she’d laid eyes on her, Emily knew that she wasn’t going to like her. She was elderly—around sixty or so—and seemed overly stern and domineering as she immediately made it quite clear that she was to be the new boss around the house.

  To make matters worse, Emily learned some time afterwards that she was to be sent to a boarding school once summer had ended, instead of being allowed to return to her old school in Ashland Falls. It was an all-girl’s school, no less, located further upstate in Albany.

  Suddenly, her life was being turned upside down with all of these changes. She had pleaded with her father to let her stay in Ashland Falls but he refused to budge. He told her that he wanted his daughter to have the very best education available, and that The Andover School For Girls was recognized as one of the finest schools of its kind in the Northeast. She had then turned to Grandpa Warren for help, hoping that he could somehow change her father’s mind. But that had been like putting out fire with gasoline.

  Feeling helpless and depressed, Emily had spent the remainder of that summer withdrawn and for the most part alone. She went out to the old house frequently, finding solace in its quiet, enchanting sanctity. She occasionally played with her friends but preferred being with her grandfather and Miss Rutledge instead, visiting them as often as she could. By the summer’s end, living at home had become unbearable between Miss Cooper’s constant nagging and her father’s sudden strange and erratic behavior. He left town frequently for days at a time, leaving her alone at the mercy of Miss Cooper. When he was home, he kept to himself for t
he most part; but rarely failed making an appearance in the bathroom at night while she was taking her bath. This had become a sort of ritual throughout the summer and Emily hadn’t really known what to make of it at the time—except that he was actually nice to her for a change as he helped her to bathe and she would always be on her guard not to do anything that might spoil his mood. But something about this ritual had never seemed quite right, and it often gave her the creeps whenever she allowed herself to dwell on it for any length of time.

  Finally, in the fall, she was shipped off to boarding school. It had been very difficult at first; the teachers and the rules were regimental and strict, and the girls all seemed snobby. But she eventually found herself lost in her studies and adjusted. She made some friends and excelled in her courses. She went home rarely, only on major holidays, when her father would come up and act like he was glad to see her then spend the remainder of the drive back to Ashland Falls asking about her grades. Once they arrived home, everything would return to the way it had always been before—her father making himself scarce and leaving her all alone with Miss Cooper the hag.

  Christmas had always been Emily’s favorite time of year, but her first Christmas since her mother’s death had been anything but joyous. Her father had always looked upon Christmas as a big nuisance anyway, and without her mother there to make it something special, he merely went through the motions as if he couldn’t wait to get it all over with. He set up an artificial tree (they had always gotten a real tree when her mother was alive), and he gave Emily a zillion presents, as if to make up for lifetime of neglect in one giant heap of generosity. Emily saw through this—but pretended to be grateful for the gifts that she would have gladly traded in for a warm hug and some kind of genuine expression of love from her father.

  It was during this particular Christmas vacation, on New Year’s Eve, when it happened.

  Her father had raped her.

  And the nightmares began.

  CHAPTER 2

  Emily felt the tears well up in her eyes and the fire became a blur. As the events of that night raced through her mind she felt the impulsive urge to break down and cry. But she didn’t. Her sorrow turned to anger instead.

  Her father had violated her. The man who had all but discarded her and abused poor Mother had gone one step further and committed the ultimate act of selfishness. He had raped his own daughter. And she had been no more than a child.

  In an act of sheer will and determination, Emily completely blotted this grim reality from her mind, just as she had so many times before. Her eyes became lucid again. With a shrug of her shoulders, she glanced down at Cassie’s head resting on her lap. She was fast asleep.

  Her thoughts shifted back to the period following her graduation from Andover. She’d been accepted at Yale on the strength of her academic status: a perfect 4.0 average. She had planned on a history major at the time but had mixed feelings about rushing into college so soon. She debated staying at home for a year, just to relax and ponder her options for the future. But the prospect of living with her father day-in and day-out at eighteen years of age was just too much to fathom, so she had enrolled at Yale in the fall.

  Her first year of college had gone well, scholastically speaking. She excelled in most of her courses and made the dean’s list. She seldom socialized, preferring her studies over the numerous activities offered on campus. She made a few casual friends but dated no one—politely turning down the numerous offers she received by making the first excuse that popped into her head at the moment. She was often asked by her friends why she never went out with any of the guys on campus and her reply had always been the same: she had just gotten over a bad relationship with a boy back home and needed some time to “air-out” before even considering dating anyone again. This was the same pat excuse she’d used throughout high school and it had never failed her.

  She spent the summer following her freshman year doing a lot of soul-searching and came to realize that being away at college had made her homesick. Her father had been away more often than usual that summer, leaving her virtually alone in the house for the first time in her life. Miss Cooper, who no longer lived at the house, had nonetheless remained his housekeeper and came to clean two afternoons a week.

  Emily had reveled in this new solitude and enjoyed the freedom of living in the big house all by herself. She took up gardening, tried her hand at canning, and spent hours on end taking long walks on the mountain—particularly to the old Porter house. She continued her voracious reading habits and had eventually amassed quite a library of historical literature.

  When she resumed classes in the fall of that year, it had been with considerable regret. After only a couple of weeks she found herself longing to be back home again. Her grades started slipping, and had it not been for her keen interest in history she probably would have dropped out of school before the year was over. But she had managed to hang in through spring quarter.

  That’s when she met Ted.

  Ted Chalmers was in pre-law and had asked her out repeatedly throughout spring quarter. In spite of her constant refusals, he had finally managed to coax her into going out to dinner with him—only after Emily had made it clear that she was accepting his offer on a friendly basis and had no intentions of letting it go beyond that. He’d taken her to an expensive restaurant off-campus and she’d ended up having a much better time than she’d thought she would. She enjoyed Ted’s company and found herself telling him things that she’d never told anybody else before. He had kept his end of the bargain too, behaving like a perfect gentleman and accepting a handshake when he’d dropped her off at her dorm instead of expecting something more. Ted’s chivalry had impressed her immensely.

  They had become good friends from that day on. They frequently went out to dinner and studied together either at Ted’s apartment or in her dorm. Emily was surprised and delighted at how well they got along, especially considering the fact that he was a guy. It was an entirely new experience for her—she had always been wary of males before then—but she felt that Ted was different than the rest. She knew that she could trust him and always felt safe when he was around. And not once did he try to come on to her. He seemed perfectly content with their platonic relationship.

  Near the end of spring quarter, Emily decided to go out on a limb and invited Ted to go back with her to Ashland Falls for a few days; to check out the little town in the Catskills she’d told him so much about. Ted happily accepted her invitation but confessed that he was a little leery of what her father might think of the idea. Emily explained that her father was rarely at home and assured Ted that even if he was, he probably wouldn’t object to the arrangement. After all, she asserted, they were just friends and he would be staying in one of the spare bedrooms.

  So when finals were over they had headed down to Ashland Falls, Ted following Emily in his car. But when she pulled into the driveway and saw her father’s BMW there, Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She honestly hadn’t expected him to be home. In a flash, she realized that she’d made a huge mistake bringing Ted home but at the same time knew it was too late to do anything about it. Her only hope had been that her father would be civil about everything.

  He wasn’t.

  Emily could still see the hideous look of absolute fury on his face the moment she had taken Ted into the den and introduced him. She could remember glancing over at Ted and seeing the utter dread in his eyes as he stood there wondering what he’d let her drag him into.

  To this day, Emily still had no idea how she had mustered up the gall (or would stupidity be a better word?) to announce that Ted was to be her guest in the house for a few days. Whatever it was that had motivated her, she’d known as soon as the words left her mouth that she had done a very foolish thing—

  Her father had gone absolutely berserk.

  He started screaming at her vehemently, called her a whore and a slut and smacked her hard across her face. He declared that she wasn’t going to fuck anyone in
his house as long as he was alive to do something about it. Then he’d glared threateningly at Ted, adding that she especially wasn’t going to fuck “this egg-headed asshole.”

  Ted had become enraged and took a swing at her father, but Charles was too quick for him. He slugged Ted so hard that he’d fallen back into the bookcase and hit his head, practically knocking him unconscious. Then he had stormed out of the room in a maniacal rage.

  Emily had run over to check on Ted. Once he assured her that he was okay, Ted told her that all he wanted was to get the hell out of her house before her lunatic father came back to finish him off. Emily’s fear turned to anger once it had fully registered what her father had just done.

  She had taken Ted out to his car and told him to wait for her then went back into the house. She found her father in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking as though he’d just see a ghost. He was pale and his eyes were staring straight ahead, blank and distant. Emily announced to him that she was moving away—getting away from him forever. Instead of lashing out at her as she’d expected, he just sat there staring vacantly at the wall. Then he calmly declared that she would never follow through with it. Emily knew that he was right, but wasn’t about to admit it. So instead of retaliating, she told him that she was going to check Ted into the hotel in town and that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. This hadn’t seemed to faze Charles at all. He merely replied quietly that she was probably right.

  This had been just one of many instances when Emily had seriously pondered the possibility that her father was quite insane.

  She met Ted outside and asked him to follow her into town. She told him he could stay at the Ashland Falls Inn and that they could still have a good time in spite of her father. Ted hadn’t been very keen to the idea and suggested that perhaps it would be better if he just left town and headed back to his home in Baltimore. But Emily was adamant—she wasn’t about to let her father spoil her plans. So Ted checked into the hotel.