Starfall

by Michael Griffo

  With her disguise intact, Vera looks the same, but now her voice has taken on an eerie quality. Maybe it’s because I know that she’s part of the Original Hunter, but when she speaks it’s like hearing a voice from another body escape her lips. She opens her mouth to form words, but I know the words are someone else’s, so it’s like watching a movie where the soundtrack is on a half-second delay. But Vera isn’t the only one who sounds different.

  Now that we have a companion, Luba’s lost the little charm she had. Back in her living room it looked like she was relishing putting Nadine in her place and playing hostess to me. Now I get the sense that she’d rather be spending a quiet night at home with her back-stabbing family. Even when she speaks, the scowl refuses to release its grip upon her face.

  “I’m afraid you’re going to be bored, Vera,” Luba grumbles. “This memory is coming alive for Dominy’s entertainment only.”

  “This is about Melinda and my mother, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “Like I said, I’m not sure if you’re clever or lucky, but yes, my daughter-in-law and your mother are twins,” Luba replies.

  Her words stab at me like a rusty knife. Hardly new, but the pain is even stronger now that I don’t have shock and disbelief to cushion the blow of her words.

  “How can that be?” I mumble. “How is that even possible?”

  “Destiny and order and balance are such surprising playmates, aren’t they?” Luba asks. Her question was clearly meant to be rhetorical, but Vera uses it as an opportunity to remind Luba just how right she is.

  “And the outcome of their games is sometimes the most surprising of all,” Vera states. “No matter how powerful you think you are, you never know how things are going to end.”

  Seething, Luba keeps her lips so tightly shut she can only breathe through her nose. Her chest rises up and down several times before she has calmed down enough to reply. “I think it’s time you left us, Vera,” Luba fumes. “I need to enlighten Dominy on an as-yet-unknown portion of her mother’s past.”

  “Oh by all means, Luba, enlighten us,” Vera replies, her bemused smile never leaving her face. “You know how Orion cherishes enlightenment.”

  The mention of Orion’s name makes Luba shiver, and a wave of cold air rushes over my body as well. When I see my mother standing before me, I feel like I’m standing inside a cube of ice.

  “Mama!”

  Disgusted by my reaction, Luba waves a hand in front of my face. “Don’t overexcite yourself, creature. It’s merely a memory.”

  It can’t be; I don’t remember my mother ever looking so young. But wait, no, no! This isn’t my memory; it’s Luba’s! Immediately I feel even sicker than before, sicker than when I uncovered that my mother shares blood with Melinda, because now that sick feeling is mixed in with fear. Somehow my mother also knew Luba, which means she also knew agony.

  “How do you know my mother?” I demand.

  “Watch,” Luba replies. “And you will learn.”

  My mother looks impossibly young and beautiful standing alone in a field of wildflowers on a bright, sunny day. Her face is glistening in the sunshine, and I gasp because this is what I must look like when Jess is around. Only there’s no way I can look as pretty as my mother; there’s something incandescent about her, something unreal. The moment I see the other person standing just outside the memory, I know what it is; it’s because she has everything she’s ever wanted in life—a loving husband and two children whom she loves even more deeply—and they’re all about to be torn away from her by one man.

  “Thorne.”

  My mother’s voice sounds as strange coming out of her body as Vera’s voice sounds coming out of hers. Even though my mother is real and not some ethereal entity, right now she’s nothing more than a hallucination. Plus, I have so few memories of my mother talking to me while she was alive that watching her now feels even less real than watching Vera prance around as a schoolgirl. My mind and my heart and my body are being assaulted by such a cavalcade of emotions that I have to push down hard on the ground not to fall over. Stay in control, Dominy! You have to see this; you must see this!

  “Suzanne!” Thorne replies, more shocked to see my mother than I was. “I told you not to come here.”

  “I had to,” she replies, her French accent strong and lush, presumably because she’s as emotional as I’m feeling right now. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  What?! Wait a second! My mother knew Thorne! And she’s worried about him! What the hell is going on here? Am I completely mistaken? Is this before my mother was married to my father?

  “Shut up!” Luba cries out in response to my litany of silent questions. “You’re just like my granddaughter! Your trouble is that you have no patience! Watch them, listen to them, and you’ll learn everything you need to know.”

  Chastised into silence, I turn my attention back onto my mother and Luba’s son, terrified of how this memory scene will unfold, but mesmerized by it at the same time.

  “When you said you were leaving, I knew exactly where to find you,” my mother says.

  There’s a shift in point-of-view, and it’s as if the camera has panned out to the right so we can see more of the countryside. When I see the Jaffe family cabin, I know exactly where we are. In the center of hell.

  “You need to go, Suzanne,” Thorne instructs. “Please leave now and go back to your husband.”

  “Mason understands why I had to come,” my mother replies. “He doesn’t like it, but he understands.”

  “He doesn’t like it because he knows it’s dangerous for you to be here,” Thorne claims. “Trust me, Suzanne. Just turn around and go; forget that you ever met me.”

  “How can I do that, Thorne, when you’ve been such a good friend to me?” my mother states. “Despite everything that my sister’s done to you, despite the way Melinda’s treated you.”

  With those words a little piece of my heart shrivels up and dies. Up until now there was still the smallest doubt, the smallest possibility that maybe I was wrong. Maybe Essie’s message to me was misinformed. But no—now hearing the words uttered by my mother, there’s no going back. Melinda Jaffe is my aunt, and her daughter Nadine is my cousin. We’re all connected by cursed blood.

  “That’s why you have to leave,” Thorne implores, stealing nervous glances back to the cabin. “If she finds out you’ve come, things will only get worse. I won’t be able to protect you from her.”

  “I’m not afraid of my sister,” my mother scoffs. “I’ve known what she is my entire life.”

  Suddenly Thorne’s expression turns gravely serious, because he sees something before my mother does, even before I do. Not something, actually, but someone.

  “He isn’t talking about me, Suzanne. He’s talking about my mother-in-law.”

  Melinda Jaffe is standing in the open doorway of the cabin, her arms crossed in front of her, leaning on the doorjamb. They’re each wearing their hair differently and Melinda has on much more makeup than my mother, so they resemble each other, but they aren’t identical. Physically they’re different, and emotionally they couldn’t be further apart.

  “Hello, Melinda,” my mother says. “I thought you liked to stay as far away from Thorne as possible.”

  “A wife has certain obligations to her husband, Suzanne,” Melinda retorts. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be home with yours? Or have you finally driven Mason psychotic with your fake French accent?”

  Shaking her head, my mother replies, “Not all of us have turned our backs on our heritage to join a cult.”

  “We do not belong to a cult!”

  Luba isn’t visible, but her words from within the memory invade the scene. Her presence is felt, and I know that she’s just on the other side of the front door.

  “Oh, Suzie,” Melinda scolds. “You’ve gone and pissed off Luba, such a stupid thing to do.”

  “Come here!” Luba cries.

  Suddenly we’re all whisked inside the cabin, and th
e claustrophobic feeling returns. There’s more than enough room to house us all, but with Thorne, my mother, Melinda, two Lubas, Vera, and myself, things feel uncomfortably crowded.

  “I want to go,” I whimper.

  “No, you need to see this.”

  When Luba doesn’t acknowledge Vera’s comment, I know that it was only meant for me to hear.

  “Why?” I silently ask.

  “It’s all part of Orion’s plan,” she replies. “Trust Him.”

  Trust him?! Is she certifiably insane?! I hear the B word slam into my ears—balance. True, Orion may have empowered Luba with evil, but he’s also saddled her with mercy to let me see my mother in a way that I’ve never seen her before. Like some beautiful and heroic and avenging angel.

  Taking a few steps closer to Luba and the two streams of black smoke rising from her shoulders, which make her look like a three-headed serpent, my mother doesn’t look at all afraid. I look closer with my wolf eyes, and all I can see is her fierce fury and loyalty.

  “Thorne has told me all about you, you sick witch!” my mother cries. “I know all about your powers and this curse and your connection to your . . . Orion!”

  My mother says his name with such unbridled contempt that both present-day Luba and Vera bristle, but there’s nothing they can do; the verbal assault took place years ago. They just have to accept the fact that not everyone on this planet worships this particular spot in the heavens.

  “Then you know what I’m capable of?” Memory Luba asks.

  “I know that you, just like that bitch over there who calls herself my sister, think you can get away with murder and destroying people’s lives!”

  “We don’t think we can, Suzanne; we know we can . . . BECAUSE WE HAVE!”

  I’m not sure what’s more shocking, my mother’s courage face-to-face with such a demon or the tone of Luba’s voice. I’ve only ever heard her sound this angry and uncontrolled once before, when she was screaming at me in her room at The Retreat after being upstaged by Vera. Just as Vera acted that time, my mother doesn’t back down in Luba’s presence.

  “And now that’s all going to change!” my mother howls. “I will never allow you to hurt my family! Do you hear me, Luba?! You will not harm my children!”

  More frightened than when I’ve previously seen him confronting his mother or his wife, Thorne is standing against the wall, his palms against the wood, bracing himself, forcing himself to remain upright. I think the only reason he’s stayed inside the cabin is because he can’t turn into a phantom and dematerialize to penetrate the walls and flee to the sunlight outside. He’s stuck within the darkness, where my mother is about to enter.

  “I have been blessed with the power of Orion!” Luba wails. “The curse has been set into motion, and there is nothing you can do to save your family.”

  My mother moves even closer to Luba, fear still incredibly not a part of her face or her body. She’s like a warrior, with only one salvo: to protect those she loves.

  “I will love and protect and defend my family with every breath I have!” my mother roars.

  Then so does Luba.

  The Luba in the memory extends her arms and rises from the floor like an eagle, her long black hair spreading out around her, her entire body lying horizontal, so my mother has to look up to see Luba’s face. It’s the first time I see terror start to creep into her expression. Perhaps it’s because she knows what Luba is going to say before the words spill out of her mouth and soak my mother with their foul stench.

  “And what will you do if I take all your breaths away?” Luba hisses. “How will you protect your family if you’re dead?”

  “That’s a wonderful question, Luba,” Melinda says. “Do you have an answer, Suzie? Or are you just going to stand there like my husband, mute and afraid?”

  I notice my mother’s left leg start to shake, just slightly, but enough to tell me that she understands Luba isn’t issuing an idle threat; she’s stating fact. All I want to do is close my eyes, render myself blind so I don’t have to see what comes next, but I can’t; I have to watch. I know my mother is feeling the same way; she wants to close her eyes, turn and run, but she’s come too far now. She’s standing on the edge of a cliff and she knows that whatever the outcome, she is going to have to take another step forward and plummet to the waiting ground below. Or she’ll be lifted even higher.

  Extending her arm, Luba clasps the air above my mother’s head and lifts her arm higher. As if her clutch is connected to my mother, I watch horrified as she is lifted, reluctantly, off the ground.

  “NO!!!”

  The sound of my mother’s voice echoes in the cabin and in my brain, and I know instinctively that it’s the last sound she’s going to utter for a very long time. How can she, when she no longer has control over her body; Luba does.

  Once again I’m reminded of those stupid skew lines from math, two geometric shapes always separated, but never unconnected. Luba and my mother are both floating horizontally in the air, one on top of the other, their bodies twisting and turning and contorting in a silent, untethered battle. Finally, with both of them silent, Thorne finally finds the strength to speak.

  “Please, Mother, no!” he cries, his voice cracking. “Hasn’t there been enough destruction? Haven’t you done enough killing?!”

  Horrified that her son has found the courage to speak to her so harshly and directly, Luba momentarily loses control of my mother’s body, and my mother plummets, only to be caught by Luba’s invisible hold inches before crashing into the wooden planks.

  “That’s it, Mother, please!” Thorne begs. “Show some mercy.”

  Luba lifts her hand higher, and my mother starts the slow rise back to midair, while Luba inspects her son, intrigued. It’s as if his words, his plea is something she had never contemplated before. If she’s going to contemplate it now, there must be something in it for her.

  “And if I do this thing that you ask, if I spare the life of this undeserving creature,” Luba says, staring down at her son as she continues to float flat near the roof of the cabin, “what will you do for me?”

  Relieved, but incredibly saddened, Thorne tells his mother the only thing that will make her give in to his demands, something so simple, but something that will seal the fates of so many.

  “If you let Suzanne live,” Thorne replies, “I will never interfere with your plans again.”

  “Don’t trust him, Luba,” Melinda interjects. “He’ll find a way to squirm out of his promise.”

  I can’t believe I’m hearing this! I knew Melinda was coldhearted, but she’d rather watch her own sister be murdered than allow her husband the upper hand for once in his life. I can’t believe Luba shows more compassion to my mother than her own sister.

  Smiling triumphantly and devilishly, Luba lowers her arm, and my mother slowly descends until she stops moving about an inch from the floor. Thorne kneels underneath her and carefully cradles her body in his arms until my mother’s arms and legs and head go completely limp. The only movement is the slight rising up and down of her chest. Luba’s kept her promise. Sort of.

  “Your friend is alive,” Luba declares. “But she’ll never live again.”

  Thorne’s soft whimpering is quickly overshadowed by Luba’s maniacal laughter. Soon the Luba standing near me joins in with the sound of her memory, and I feel like I’m about to be swallowed up by evil. I can’t take it anymore. Not only did Luba put a curse on my head, but she cursed my mother too! Luba’s the reason she’s been in a coma all these years! Oh my God—that’s wonderful news! If Luba is the reason for my mother’s fate, she can also be my mother’s salvation.

  “You put my mother in a coma!” I scream. “You can take her out of it!”

  Luba merely sneers at me, like my breath is as foul as hers. “My, my, Dominy, you really are making a lot of demands lately, aren’t you?”

  Trapped within the confines of Luba’s mind and her memory, I decide to take advantage of the surround
ings and tap into my inner beast. I can see small puffs of red dust sprinkle out of my mouth with every violent breath I take. I don’t want to transform right here and now, but if I do, so be it!

  “This is what you created, Luba!” I howl. “You want me to be an animal, then I’ll act like one!”

  Luba’s laughter turns into a banshee cry, and the cabin and the memory and whatever space in time we’re inhabiting is filled with her black, angry smoke. I feel fear scraping at my shins and my knees and my arms, but I ignore it, because I feel something even more powerful—a connection to my mother. The two of us, stupid as we may be, are not afraid of Luba. We will not allow her to watch us grovel at her feet anymore!

  “I said bring my mother back to me!”

  The smoke is gone; Luba is alone. The two of us stare at each other as Vera watches with interest from the sidelines. No one makes a sound until Luba makes a proposition.

  “I will make you an offer, Dominy,” Luba begins. “I will revive Suzanne, but . . .”

  Like Archie once said, nothing good ever comes after a but. “But what?” I ask.

  “There has to be something in it for me.”

  What more does this woman want? “What, Luba, what else could you possibly want from me?” I ask.

  “Don’t be so arrogant,” Luba replies. “I don’t want anything from you. I want something from Vera.”

  Vera?!

  “And what would that be, Luba?” Vera asks, sounding much calmer than my thoughts.

  “The child that is not taken away by Vera,” Luba explains, “will be killed by me.”

  Bluffing! She must be bluffing! If she kills one of Nadine’s kids and the other is taken away by Vera and Orion, then there will no longer be a triumvirate; Luba will never reach her full potential. There’s no way that she’ll let that happen.