by Tina Smith
“So what exactly did you find?” Jackson asked sitting forward with his hands on his knees.
Dr. Fielding flipped through the file quickly. “The sample you gave me contained two things.” He explained. “Oleander leaves.”
“Oleander,” I asked.
“In small doses Oleander can make a person violently ill.” Dr. Fielding clarified. “In larger doses it will kill you.” He paused for a moment letting this sink in. “What I found with the Oleander was even more disconcerting. There were traces of heavy metal in with the leaves. There wasn’t enough of a sample for me to get accurate results, but my best guess is that it is Arsenic.”
“Abigail wanted to make sure she got the job done.” Jackson murmured sitting back in his chair.
“Abigail?” Dr. Fielding asked. “As in Abigail Clayton?”
“Yes.” I answered.
“I have something that might help you!” He said excitedly as he stood up and walked over to the bookshelves to the left of his desk. “About five years ago I bought the old Clayton mansion and I’ve been restoring it. I found this when I was working in her daughter’s room in a secret compartment in the mantle.” He pulled out a worn leather journal and handed it to me. “This is Jessica’s journal.”
I didn’t need him to say that. As soon as I looked up at him, I saw her standing there looking forlornly at the journal. I drew in a sharp breath.
“Are you all right?” He asked looking at me quizzically.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I reassured him. “I was afraid that I would ruin this beautiful journal.”
“I’m sure that you will return it to me safe and sound.” He said patting my hand.
Jackson had a shift so we went to the police station after we were done at the crime lab. Since I did not want to be home alone when I read the journal, I headed up to my office. If anything happened, I wanted people around to help me. I settled down in the chair behind my desk and carefully opened the journal revealing the aged parchment.
June 20, 1860
Today I begin my life as Mrs. Steven Clayton, a mail order bride marrying a powerful man. My parents came with me to protect me and make sure Mr. Clayton lived up to his end of the contract. Cleveland is so far from my quiet life in Virginia. It is not very green here, but Mother says that it will not matter because I will lead such a pampered life, that I can travel anywhere I want to go. I do not want a pampered life, dearest journal. I just want to go home to Virginia, to my friends, to the simple life I had before. It is too complicated and strange here. Mother said I‘d get used to it. I do not think I ever will.
Regards
J
A strange feeling came over me as I was flipping through the pages of Jessica’s journal. I could feel her presence with me. She was hesitant, frightened. “It’s all right.” I said quietly. My hand paused about halfway through the journal and I read:
July 4, 1861
Today I lie here in my room holding my beautiful daughter, Rose. I am watching the fireworks over the lake. Steven is outside with his business friends getting drunk. He says it is all part of being American; we should enjoy the land of milk and honey. I do not understand how drinking and carousing make you an American, but that is what Steven believes.
My mother is tending to the needs of Rose and I. I thought she would be happy at the birth of her first grandchild. She seems angry, even resentful. She told me that if I did not give Steven a son, he would stop loving me. I do not think that is true, maybe he did not love me to begin with. The only reason he was forced to take a wife was to show that his business empire was strong after his father died. What woman in her right mind would take a man for her husband if he drinks and fights all the time? He gets so angry. I do not know who frightens me more, Steven or my Mother.
The journal entry ended abruptly. I assumed someone came into the room. Maybe Abigail…or Steven. Jessica’s presence became stronger; my hands started moving on their own. I relaxed and let it happen. Jessica wanted me to know something. I was going to find out what it was.
October 16, 1861
Today my heart was shattered when I found my beautiful Rose had flown from this world in her sleep. Mother told me that she was probably frail to begin with and had a weakness of the blood. Steven cried for the first time today. I did not know what to do, so we just held each other and let our tears fall.
Regards
J
My hand began moving over the pages again as a deep feeling of sorrow washed over me. Tears stung my eyes and I choked back a sob.
October 23, 1861
Today something strange happened. Beatrice, my lady’s maid was cleaning my room and found a bottle wrapped in the blankets from the cradle. I took it from her to be able to hold it one more time. Then I took it downstairs to the kitchen to wash it. This simple act brought me so much comfort. As I was washing her bottle, I found some strange brown flecks in it. I asked Beatrice about it. She told me my mother insisted on making the baby’s bottles. I do not know how to ask Mother about them without sounding impertinent. The last time I angered her; she locked me in my room and only let me eat crackers and water.
I am so afraid,
J
My hands started trembling as they sought the next page that Jessica wanted me to read. This time my movements were quicker, desperate. My whole body began to shake, and I was consumed with an overwhelming fear. My fingers stopped abruptly at an entry that was about a year later than the one I had just read.
November 10, 1862
The war has been hard on us all dear diary. More so for my beloved Virginia. News comes through the lines that soldiers are suffering due to a lack of food and medicine. Disease runs rampant and people are dying of dysentery and pneumonia. There is no end in sight. My parents are helping with the war effort; they send whatever supplies they can manage without Steven finding out to the Southern soldiers. It is harder and harder to get things through the lines and I fear we will be caught and tried for treason, which is punishable by death. If Steven finds out, he will send us away. I do not know what would become of us, we would perish I am sure. I will keep this secret from him; I do not want to risk anything now that we are finding happiness again with each other. He told me he went to a sanatorium to help with his drinking and to heal his illness in his liver. He came back a changed man. He protects me now, and has even stood up to Mother. Can you believe it? We have been talking about having another baby in the spring! Tonight we are going to the theater together; we have never done that before. I am so excited!
Regards
J
My fingers did not want to move this time, so I turned the page. There before me was a journal entry made on Christmas. There were watermarks on the paper and the handwriting was shaky.
December 25, 1862
Christmas is supposed to be a time of hope and joy. There is supposed to be peace on Earth. Heaven knows I have had my share of sorrows in this year. I have prayed for this terrible war to end. It took my cousin Julian and his brother Joseph far too soon in the battle at Andersonville. There is so much sorrow in the world. My sadness will be added to it, for it is greater than all the sadness in all the world. My beloved Steven has passed away. It was very sudden. The servants told me he was drinking again and many times had to be carried to his bed because he was in a stupor. I thought that maybe, it was the visit by the war department, when they were questioning his loyalties that had driven him to it. The odd thing is; there is no liquor to be found in the house. I even asked the servants if they were still making moonshine and Angus the butler told me that they would not do that because all the servants loved me.
The only thing I have seen Steven drinking was tea and the tonics that my mother bought for him in town from the doctor. He needed high doses of the tonic to help with his liver disease. I found the same leaves in the tonic my mother was giving him. Beatrice told me Mother thought he had the same weakness of the blood as Rose. She told me she was putting leaves in his toni
c and in his tea to help him overcome this weakness. I asked Beatrice if she knew what the leaves were, but she said Mother does not allow anyone in the herb room.
I will ask her tomorrow if there is an herb that can help with my broken heart.
Sadly
J
I turned the page again. Jessica’s presence was strong, but her energy was weak. I already knew this was the last entry in her journal.
January 21, 1863
The war goes on and on, dear diary. It seems as if my beloved South is weakening right along with my body. I am sick of the body, soul, and spirit. I sleep most days. Mother tries to heal me with her herbs and tonics, but they do nothing to ease my pain. Even this light pen feels heavy in my hand as I write on this page. It causes me so much pain. My body aches, and the only food I can tolerate is the tea and tonics mother gives me. I am so weary, diary. Weary of the sadness in my heart. Weary of this war taking young men.
Will this pain never end?
J
Sadly, I closed Jessica’s diary. I knew how her story ended. She joined her beloved husband and daughter in Heaven. When I looked up at Jessica, her expression changed. It was peaceful now. I picked up the phone so no one would notice me talking to thin air. “You knew, didn’t you?” I asked. She nodded. “You let your mother poison you, didn’t you?” She nodded again. I looked at her with confusion. “Why?” I asked. Jessica made a motion with her hand toward the journal and a tintype photo emerged from the pages. I looked at it; it was a picture of Jessica, Steven, and baby Rose. They looked so happy. Tears stung my eyes. “You wanted to be with them.” I murmured. Jessica pointed at the picture, and then at me. “You want me to have this?” I asked. Jessica nodded, and then smiled at me. I saw Abigail appear beside Jessica, she looked frightened. “Was this your unfinished business?” I asked Jessica. Jessica shook her head. I thought for a moment. “You need me to close the case once and for all so your mother can rest.” Jessica nodded again turning to her mother. She wiped a tear from Abigail’s face. I looked up at them. “You’re a good daughter.” I said. “You always have been.” They smiled at me and faded away.
When they were gone I pushed down the receiver button, when I heard the dial tone, I dialed Jackson’s number.
Epilogue
That night Jackson and I went through the rest of the files that we had brought home from the Tombs. Among them were files on Jessica’s father, Beatrice, and several other people that had worked for the Claytons. All of them had died in the same mysterious manner. The living room felt a little crowded with all the spirits standing there watching us. As we marked each of their files closed, they faded away one by one leaving Jessica and Abigail standing alone beside me.
Jackson gave me a puzzled look. “You’re crying.” He said as he gently wiped a tear from my cheek.
“I am?” I asked, quickly grabbing a tissue and dabbing at my cheeks. “It must be that Jessica and Abigail are sad.”
“Really?” He asked. “I have a file here for Abigail too.”
“You do?” I replied.
“Yes it was in with her father’s file. I almost missed it.” Jackson said gently handing me the thin folder.
I took it from him and placed it beside Jessica’s on the low coffee table. I ran my fingers over them gently. I sighed deeply. “I feel like I’m losing an old friend.” Jessica knelt down in front of me touching my cheek with her hand. I raised my hand to where hers would be; I could feel it there. It was warm, and full of love and concern. I looked into her pretty blue eyes. “You’re welcome.” I whispered. She stood, turned to Abigail, and embraced her. Then they disappeared.
“They’re gone.” I choked.
Jackson took my face in his hands, “you’re amazing, you know that?”
“I know.” I answered nodding, letting the tears fall.
“What’s this” He asked touching my cheek, wiping away my tears.
“I got some news today.” I said reaching underneath the sofa and pulling out a velvet box. “Happy Anniversary.”
He looked at me quizzically. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“I kind of had no choice.” I replied smiling at him. “You know how I fainted at the restaurant?”
“Yes…” He said slowly.
I gestured to the box. He opened it. “No way…” He said seeing the positive pregnancy test inside.
I nodded smiling at him, as fresh tears began falling down my cheeks.
“Oh my gosh that’s amazing!” Jackson breathed as he pulled me into his strong embrace. I melted into him feeling incredibly safe and warm. Tomorrow we would plan the rest of our lives. I was happy with the here and now. I closed my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep. This time I did not dream of the past, I dreamed of a future full of promise with my amazing and wonderful husband.
The End.
To my dear friend Kellie, your amazing support, help, and love are so inspiring. Thank you.
Lee Ryder is a mother of 3 children. She currently lives in New England. She is an accomplished musician playing three different instruments and also studied vocal performance and dance. Lee believes in love at first sight and married her soul mate at age 19.
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Edited By S’Cuanam Policar
© Copyright 2014 Lee Ryder
Spinning Scars
Alexia Purdy
Chapter 1. The Other
I’d watched the girl since the moment her parents died. Even when they came for her and pried her out of the wretched, twisted metal contraption made for travel by the humans, I followed where they took her. First a hospital to fix her bruises and bandage her cuts. Then, to a foreign house where she was given a new set of clothes, books and toys to use with a rotating family whom never seemed to really care much about her. It would make another being sad to watch her tossed from family to family, never loved, never truly wanted. But I felt no such emotional attachments.
I wasn’t able to.
My kind didn’t indulge in such things as feelings. Just as well. When I’d found her, I’d been too late to save her family from the imminent assassin sent after them, who unwittingly perished in the crash as well. The rogue assassin had been recently discovered inside our faction of Others, but it’d been too late to save the girl’s family. The Meridian Royal line was whittled down to one royal heir and through the void of lack of emotion within me, I vowed to protect her as long as I lived for failing her family so.
But time was an enemy, for my kind were not immortal.
Her kind had such a gift and would outlive my race eventually if enough rotations of the earth came between us.
One day, I’d find a solution to my problem. In the meantime. I sat and watched her from afar, leaving tiny spies when my position of Chancellor to my people drew me away, which was much too often. The miniscule butterflies I forged for this particular mission followed her everywhere and were my ears and eyes when I was gone.
When the sands of time were no longer on my side, and I shriveled into dust, what would happen to her then? Time was a blink of an eye to her species, but I was determined to fight against it as long as I could.
She needed a champion, another immortal to keep her safe forever. But where would I even find one? Her people were scattered, hidden from the ones who had chipped away at their bloodlines to near extinction. Only she could save them, and that was only if she even lasted that long. She’d be safe for now, but the day would come when she’d be hunted once more.
In the meantime, I turned away toward my home in the desolate forest hoping eventually, the answer would come to me.
Chapter 2. Ruby
He wasn’t one of us. I knew this the moment I felt his presence enter the room. He wasn’t tall, but had an inch or two on me. Hidden under a hoodie that covered the features his long black hair didn’t, I
wondered how he could even see as he made his way up the steps and chose the row I was sitting in, promptly slumping into the empty chair next to mine. The class was almost full, but there were other choices he could’ve picked. I was surprised, to say the least, that he chose to be near me.
I didn’t know what to think about that. There were any number of gorgeous girls in this class and he plopped down next to me, in the last seat of this row. I shook it off for the professor walked into the room and cleared his throat before turning to the whiteboard and began writing all sorts of stuff across it.
I hoped I wouldn’t fail. I couldn’t fail since I was paying my tuition out of pocket, for the most part. The gibberish hack marks across the white board weren’t reassuring. I scrambled for a pen and notebook from my backpack, dropping the darn pen in the process. It rolled away from me and landed a few inches from my right foot, next to the mysterious guy who’d occupied the spot next to me. I cursed under my breath and reached out for it and failing in having enough length in my arms to get close enough.
Instead, I bumped into the guy’s shoulder as he easily leaned down, gripped onto my pen and then sat back up, holding it out for me. His fingernails were clean and smooth, looking out of place against the thin white scars slashed across the top of his hands and up the exposed area of his arm.
“Thank you,” I muttered.