Water and Stone

by Glover, Dan

  He could think of only one way to find out the truth... he had to touch the stone. Yet he'd been warned against doing so, that if he did, the piedra would cause irreparable harm to his body, much like Tia Evalena discovered... though no one ever told him so directly his mother alluded to her having an encounter with the stone which ended up costing her an eye.

  He remembered the first night his aunt appeared at the chabola. A storm had been waging war against the entire countryside... he watched wide-eyed from the tiny window in the loft where he slept as lightning danced the sky and rivers of rain cascaded down from dreadful clouds obscuring the heavens.

  "Don't stare at the lightning, Church! You'll draw it to us."

  His mother always issued the same caution and as usual he ignored her warnings. He was six years old and big enough to know better than to believe in Santa Claus and other fairy tales though he went along with them for his mother's sake.

  She only wanted to protect him. Still, it made him feel small when she treated him like a child. Since there was no one to watch him while mother worked he stayed alone at the chabola... he'd always been fully capable of taking care of himself from a young age. In fact, it never occurred to him that he needed anyone in his life... even his mother was a bit superfluous.

  Now he was a grown man and he knew better. He'd treated his mother to many harsh words when love would have sufficed always telling himself there'd be time to make it up to her... that he'd be better when he was older.

  Tia Evalena had appeared out of that storm, a roll of thunder striking at the chabola like a battering ram. He heard the knocking at the door thinking at first it was something blown loose from the walls... maybe one of the clapboards that were forever rotting away and needing replaced. It was a wonder that the shack could even stand up to the blustery winds hammering at its exterior.

  "Please go to the cellar, Church. I'll be along directly. We'll be safer down there."

  He hated the cellar. It smelled of the dead and he always saw something moving out of the corners of his eyes but when he looked nothing was there... at least nothing he could see directly.

  The cacophony at the door continued. It seemed a force all its own, deadly somehow, and yet enticing. Standing on the wooden ladder leading down to hell and peering into the living room he looked past the overstuffed chair to where his mother stood staring out into the darkness.

  He could feel the fear rolling off of her body in waves. It startled him to think that his mother could be afraid of anything. She was his rock. Yet as she stood on her tip toes in an attempt to see who or what was at the door he could sense the fright permeating the room.

  The blasts of the tempest outside made their way into the chabola stirring up the dust lodged in all the little cracks of the shack causing them to coalesce into a miniature whirlwind that boogied its way across the floor like a diminutive drunken dancer. As he watched it led his eyes back to now open door.

  The girl standing there looked like his mother but there was an air of something sinister hovering about her. He had the sudden urge to jump up from his hiding place, run to the entrance, and slam the door in the woman's face. If she was allowed to enter the chabola their lives would never be the same.

  It was too late, though. Seconds later his mother stepped aside as the girl walked into the cabin as if she belonged there with them. As much as he disliked her, Tia Evalena would have the answers that he sought... he had to talk to her before he did anything rash like touching the piedra.

  He couldn’t leave Miami though... not until he found Tree. She had to be playing some sort of joke on him. Then again, maybe she was angry that he refused to touch the stone. Perhaps she'd gone back to Texas... or more ominously, maybe she'd left the room in a drunken stupor after he passed out. What if she had been kidnapped?

  Should he alert the authorities to her disappearance? He couldn’t seem to think straight. He had a headache and his stomach was unsettled. He needed something to eat. Maybe once the hangover cleared he'd be able to decide what to do.

  Packing his meager belongings as well as Tree's clothes and purse he picked up the box, placed it inside the cloth sack, walked out to the truck, and drove down the street to the first restaurant he came to.

  Chapter 52

  She scarcely recognized the woman.

  Though she knew the aging process would begin once the effects of the sand wore off she had no idea the changes would be so virulent. The girl who'd once been younger than her was now as old as her great grandmother might have been if she had one.

  "Did you do this to me, Evalena?"

  "No, of course not, sister... I haven’t the power to call age upon someone. Your years are catching up to you just as I once told you they would."

  "You put a curse on me for trying to kill you, Evalena. If I say I'm sorry, will you lift it?"

  "Oh, sister... I did no such thing. I love you. Even if I had the ability to do what you think I've done, I could never bring myself to hurt you."

  "But I tried to shoot you, Evalena... not once but many times. Aren’t you angry with me?"

  The old woman didn’t believe her. She could see it in her eyes and hear it in her penitent words. Denying any wrongdoing on her part had never worked. Everyone took her for a malignant being capable of unleashing untold cruelties upon all those around her yet she had never done anything not in keeping with those people's best interests.

  Billy Ford had died but that hadn’t been her doing. Yani shot the boy. While it might have been true that he was doomed anyway, at least something of him would've lived on had her plans for him come to fruition. The tiny granules of sand that she fed him would have given birth to something otherworldly yet it would've been Billy.

  That she saw more of creation than others was undisputable. Her vision of reality was direct and unencumbered by sentimentality or emotions or other representations that else wise might cloud her judgment and alter her journey.

  It was an accidental discovery... the dropping of sand through the piedra. At first she thought it was unaffected by the stone but soon she learned otherwise. Like anything else that touched the translucent object hovering inside the box, the grains of sand were imbued with the same magic as the piedra, though perhaps not as potent.

  Touching the stone was a great taboo... perhaps the gravest sin of all, for like a mortal reaching out to touch the divine only great suffering would result from such an act. Yet the compulsion to do so was ever-present as long as she possessed it.

  Perhaps that was the origins of the whole concept of taboo... the great desire to possess that which would ultimately and completely destroy the holder. To stare into the face of the fiery god was the same as courting death. To reach out and touch that god—to claim it for oneself—was tantamount to blasphemy.

  Was that why she continually found herself giving the stone over into the keeping of another... she didn’t trust her willpower? Though her memory of long ago events had grown hazy with time she thought there was more than a little truth to it. She'd directly encountered the piedra once... the second time might well spell her doom.

  As time lengthened she came to realize that she didn't choose the piedra. It chose her. Now that it had gone from her grasp, she had to accept that there was some reason for that too. She hadn’t been able to delve deeply enough into the stone to learn even a fraction of its secrets but she'd always told herself she had plenty of time for that.

  She was wrong. Though her hourglass might have been larger than others it was still glued to the table. Once the sands of time had run out, that was it. There were no do-overs, no time for remorse and guilt over paths not taken.

  She'd been mistaken about many things. Coming back to Cuba was just another in a long line of errors that followed in her wake. It seemed imperative to leave the island as soon as possible... to travel back to the anonymity of Mexico and Texas and the poverty that would be hers to revel within.

  They were coming for her and now that Yani w
as here that trip took on a sense of urgency. They were probably watching the house even now. She could run but they'd catch her. Besides, she was tired of living in shadows... of abandoning everyone she loved. The big cat refused to leave her side... was it because he thought she'd leave him again? Or was he a part of the conspiracy against her and her family?

  She was as tired as Yani looked. Oh, if only she could simply lie down, go to sleep, and never wake up again. She supposed the possibility of that had long passed her by, however. She was in too deeply to escape so easily.

  She should have stayed at the whorehouse. Oddly, that was one of the few places she'd ever been relatively happy. Of course she didn’t realize it at the time... maybe she was fated to only enjoy the seedier side of life, never the sunshine, not at least until it faded and went out.

  "Tell me the secret, Evalena... I'm dying so it doesn’t make any difference now, but I'd like to know."

  The old woman sighed the words rather than mouthed them. It was raining again... she could hear the angry patter on the tin roof. She had forgotten how wet the island was. Or was it rasping of the spiders building their nests? They always seemed to follow her or maybe they sensed what was coming.

  "Secret? What secret, sister?"

  "To how you used the piedra... to how you managed to stay young for so long... tell me. It will go no farther than this room."

  "There's no secret, sister. You know that. You've had the stone long enough to discover it for yourself if there was anything to know. You're not a stupid girl nor have you ever been."

  "I'm sorry I kept the piedra from you, Evalena. That was wrong of me. It wouldn’t let me go. I knew better but that damned thing had a hold upon me."

  She supposed she should feel justified in heaping Yani with anger now that the old woman's admission of guilt had finally surfaced yet Evalena knew she would've done the same thing. They were too much alike. What she hated about her sister she also detested about herself.

  "There's nothing to forgive, sister. We all do what we must to survive."

  She almost felt sorry for the old woman... almost. But sorrow was an opulence she could scarcely afford. Had Yani given her the stone they wouldn't be in the predicament they were in now... she doubted her sister had any idea of the danger that lay waiting for her. If she did, she never would have come.

  "I gave it to Church... is he safe carrying the piedra, Evalena?"

  "Anyone who possesses the stone is in the danger of the grave, sister. Where's Church now?"

  "I sent him away."

  "We need to find him, sister. With the piedra we stand a chance at surviving. Without it, we're both as good as dead."

  "I'm pretty sure I'll have to get better just to die, Evalena."

  "Hush, now, sister... do not call your death upon you so lightly. It'll find us soon enough. Now think... where would Church go? Does he have a favorite spot? Are there friends he might visit?"

  "I told him to just go, Evalena. I didn’t want to know where he was heading. The pull of the stone was almost too much to resist. As soon as I gave it to him, I wanted to take it back. But I knew I had to let it go, otherwise..."

  "Otherwise I'd end up with it... is that what you mean, sister?"

  "Maybe it is... you were acting so strangely, Evalena... and what you did to that boy... how could you? He was just a kid. You ruined his life... you killed that whole family."

  "I can do nothing unless those involved allow it... you know that, sister. I made bargains with all three of the Fords... they thought they could get the better of me, otherwise they wouldn’t have agreed to the terms."

  "You have a way with words, Evalena. I'll give you that much. I almost believe you... but I know better. Did you make the same bargain with the Fords that you made with me all those years ago?"

  She should have known not to try reasoning with Yani... the woman was beyond that now. Her mind had to be failing along with her body. She told herself not to care... that Yani had tried to kill her just a few short weeks ago and given a chance would do so again.

  Still, she'd watched her grow into a girl, doting upon her like a mother might, protecting her from the harm that was the world. She didn’t realize it until that moment that she loved the old woman as much as she did. It made knowing what was about to happen all the more difficult, especially knowing she once had the ability to save Yani's life.

  This time, however, it would be at the expense of her own life. She'd been lucky before in managing to assuage the anger of the others at Yani's escape, promising them the girl would be found before it was too late. Now, she had kept her word. Yani was ripe for the plucking.

  If only they had the stone things might go so much better for them. Not only would it allow them the potential for escape it even might make leaving the island completely unnecessary. She had forgotten how much she loved Cuba... the weather though moist was more tolerable than the incessant heat and dust of the Texas summers and the incessant cold and brutal winds of its winters and she didn't relish going back to the din and the stench of Mexico.

  Yani knew more than she was letting on... but it was to her own detriment to deny knowledge of Church and the piedra. If they came for her—which they would—then all she could do was let them have the woman. She had protected Yani for as long as she could, especially if she refused to help herself.

  Still, she couldn’t help but envy the old woman. What was it like to grow old and frail... to come face to face with the specter of death? It must feel marvelous.

  Chapter 53

  Why couldn’t Church see her?

  He stood right beside the bed where she was laying. He seemed to hear her voice yet for some inexplicable reason he didn’t seem to notice her. It reminded her uncomfortably of their times together growing up and how he ignored her.

  "Where are you, Tree?"

  Couldn’t he see her? What was wrong with Church?

  "I'm right here, Church."

  The words sounded odd, like she was speaking through an empty tube of wrapping paper. She seemed to be hearing the sound of her voice in her head but not in her ears. When Church spoke it was as if he was under water, perhaps, or drowning in syrup, maybe. His voice was so slow that she had to struggle to keep her attention focused upon it.

  One time she'd gone to work with her father. He delivered mail. When they got to the post office he showed her a secret room where the post office gods gathered to watch the workers through a one-way mirror and make sure they did their job right. Inside that room she could see everything going on in the post office through a large window while outside only her reflection stared back at her.

  That was how she felt... as if she was looking at the world through that same one-way mirror... she could see everything going on around her but no one on the outside could see into her secret lair.

  And then there was the music... it wasn’t unpleasant yet try as she might she couldn’t quite place the name of the song that kept playing over and over again like a snatch of rhyme lodged in her mind.

  The bright sunshine flowing through the sliding glass doors leading to the patio held no warmth. That didn’t seem strange at first but then she thought how they were in Miami. The sunshine should be nearly unbearable, especially since she wasn’t used to laying in it. She wanted to ask Church about the anomaly but then he seemed to be readying himself to leave the room... to leave her behind.

  He was picking up her clothes too and stuffing them into the same paper sack that he carried his stuff in... what was she supposed to wear? Why would Church leave her naked and all alone? Was he angry with her for something she couldn’t remember doing?

  All of a sudden the room went black.

  Was it nighttime and Church had turned out the lights? It was strange too that she couldn’t remember the last time she ate yet she wasn’t the least bit hungry. And what was she supposed to do without her clothes? She didn’t mind showing off her body to Church but she was way too shy to walk around naked all day l
ong and in front of complete strangers.

  Fumbling her way forward to find the light switch she discovered the motel room was far larger than she realized... either that or she had somehow been magically transported to somewhere else while she was sleeping. Stepping away from the bed she noticed how the carpet wasn’t really made of polyester like most carpeting. Rather, it seemed to be alive. She could feel it breathing beneath her feet. It reminded her of the movement of the ocean or what it must be like walking on the side of some great slumbering beast.

  There was someone else in the room. She couldn’t see who it was so much as sense their presence, like back in Texas... how she used to know when the rain was coming long before it happened... an electric feeling in the air, perhaps, or the imperceptible odor from clouds days off.

  "Church? Are you here?"

  It seemed odd for the boy to disappear when they'd just made love... she thought sure he'd be one of those clingy ones never wanting to let go of her now that she was his. Though she had never actually been in love like she was now, she had read plenty of books revolving around dysfunctional relationships. They all ended badly.

  "What are you doing here, girl?"

  She gave a start at hearing someone speak to her in such an irritated tone, as if she was someplace she didn’t belong. She felt like she was ten years old again and how she had been caught stealing tomatoes from the neighbor's garden and how mother had delighted in bringing up the incident every time one of her friends came to visit until finally Tree didn’t dare to bring anyone home with her ever again.

  At first she thought it was her mother's voice again, bent upon tormenting her even from the grave. As she listened she realized it wasn’t who she thought... it was a woman's voice though it sounded husky like a man's, not at all like mother's. Still, it sounded vaguely familiar, like she had heard her speak before. Tree's eyes were having trouble focusing more than a few feet in front of her... the rest of the room seemed to be in a fog.