River of Bones

by Angela J. Townsend

  Under a layer of dust we found the next clue. I unrolled it, squinting to make out the words. “I can’t read it, but it says something about rhyming with an old man’s shoe.”

  Wolf rubbed his chin. “Old man’s shoe. Shoe, who, boo hoo. I have no idea.”

  “So far everything has been near the fireplace. The poker, the wood box.”

  “How about fireplace flu,” Wolf said. “That rhymes with shoe, and if the general’s birthday was in the summer there wouldn’t be a fire.”

  I nodded. “It’s worth a try.”

  My heart jumped as Wolf stuck his head inside the dark chimney. His flashlight beam flickered against the sooty rock walls.

  “I think I see something,” Wolf said. “It’s tucked into the side of a brick behind a bunch of spider webs.”

  I shivered as he fought through the thick webbing. “Yuk, hope there’s nothing alive in there.”

  “Got it!” Wolf said. In his palm he held a rolled up piece of paper. He pulled off a tiny piece of ribbon and unrolled the clue.

  “What does it say?” I asked.

  “This is your last written line, directing you to old father time.”

  “It has to be a clock,” I said. “That should be easy.”

  Wolf nodded. “Let’s split up again.” He hurried off to check the far side of the room, while I headed to the side with the table.

  “Remember, it could be anything to do with time, even a picture or something,” he called over his shoulder.

  Hunting with my flashlight, I was surprised at all the things I had missed in this room. Then slowly, a creepy feeling crawled over me. The place was more like a crypt than a ballroom. Fine portraits of people long dead peered from behind prisons of dust, their withered eyes following my every move. Pressed against a far wall, faded furniture rested, as if still waiting for the souls of weary dancers. A fancy punch bowl with delicate cups, blue with age, sat on a cherry wood table ready to provide refreshments for guests dead and buried centuries ago.

  “Over here,” Wolf called, aiming his flashlight into a dark corner. We hurried to a marble statue of a Greek goddess with a bronze clock in the center. Its bold black Roman numerals glowed in the light.

  “It has to open somehow,” I said. “There must be a latch.”

  Wolf ran his hand across the base and then down the side. It made a loud click, and the belly of the statue swung open.

  I dropped to my knees and stuck my hand inside, pulling out old coins and metal toys and prizes. Something else lay way in the back, crouched the shadows, covered in spider webs. I leaned forward, straining to reach it. My fingertips caught an edge of something metal and I pulled it free.

  Wolf shined the light over the object in my hands. “What is it?”

  “It looks like a jewelry box.” I ran my fingers over the dusty surface. It was made of silver, with cherubs and grapes engraved on its hinged lid.

  “Open it!”

  I gently pushed up on it. “It’s locked.”

  “Give it here and I’ll pry it open.”

  “No wait, let me try the key from the shack.” I took the key out of my pocket, inserted it into the hole and gave it a turn. The lid snapped open. Inside, a tiny ballerina danced in circles to the same ominous tune I had heard so many times before. I stared inside. Empty. My heart fell like a stone.

  “You know what I think?” Wolf said. “I think Sabine meant to hide it here then changed her mind. Like she was in a huge panic and had second thoughts. I mean who’d want clues pointing out the very thing you’re trying to hide?”

  I snapped my fingers. “You’re right! She would have been in a hurry and she knew they were getting ready to seal the room. It has to be here somewhere.”

  Tension pinched my neck, stiffening my muscles. I drew my worry stone from my pocket. I rubbed it absent-mindedly, straining to think of where she could have possibly hidden the mirror.

  I froze. “Wait a minute…”

  “What?” Wolf asked.

  I returned the stone to my pocket and rushed to the fireplace. “Flint—look for a piece of flint.”

  “What are talking about?”

  “Besides making fire, flint carries energy that is supposed to cloak objects, to help keep things hidden. It’s really just mineral quartz, but I know lots of people who swear by its magical properties. It’s been used in witchcraft forever.”

  “Wow, good thing you know a lot about rocks. Just hope you’re right, otherwise we may be searching for a while.” Wolf swept his flashlight over the mantle, then into the wood box. I spotted a very thin gray stone covered in a sheet of cobwebs.

  I fell to my knees, shining the flashlight beneath the stone and found an old-fashioned matchbox made of tin. Inside, wrapped in a thick pile of wool, lay a small hand mirror. I cradled the delicate glass in the hollow of my hand, letting the protective wrapping fall away. “The mirror! I found it!”

  Fire burst from the hearth, sending long flickering flames like the tongue of a serpent hissing across the floor.

  Eyes bored into me, I looked down, into the mirror. Sabine’s face, twisting with rage, illuminated back at me. She snarled, her gold tooth glaring, eyes blazing. She lifted a gnarled hand and sent a gust of wind that socked me in the gut, hurling me across the room. I landed in a heap beside the dining table. Gasping for breath, I struggled to stand. She knocked me down again; a sharp pain flared into my ribs. I rose to my feet, and smashed the mirror to the floor and ground the pieces with my heel.

  A spine-chilling screech pierced the room. The windows burst from their frames. Shards of glass like a thousand switchblades flew in all directions, severing the fingers of moonlight creeping in.

  Wind and rain converged into a screaming squall that blew through the shattered panes, sending wreckage spinning in all directions. I dropped to the floor, hugging the table leg for protection. Wolf leaned into the storm, struggling to reach me. I held out a hand, our fingertips met and then suddenly he was flung away, flying across the room, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. He landed on his back beneath one of the ruined windows.

  Near my feet I spotted a shard of glass from the mirror. A dark eye peered out from it. I gripped the table for support and stomped on it until only fragments of dust remained.

  The torrent died down. Only whispers of wind and rain were left behind. Moonlight, soft and gray, flooded the interior, creeping into every ancient corner, illuminating objects like an unexplored tomb.

  I rushed to Wolf’s side. “Are you okay?”

  Wolf rolled into a sitting position and propped himself up against the wall. “Yeah, I think so.”

  I collapsed next to him, every ounce of my energy expelled. I was suddenly so exhausted I could hardly move. Wolf pulled me into his chest and I melted into the safety of his strong arms and closed my weary eyes.

  Swords of amber sunlight cut into the ballroom, warming the oak floorboards beneath us. Tiny strands of dust danced in the light, twisting in the air, glowing like fragments of precious gems. There was something healing within those brilliant rays and I stretched out my hand until my fingertips touched the radiant beams. Sunshine glistened over my arms and across my face. I sat upright. A flash of pain seared into my ribs, but my raw throat and aching muscles were blissfully gone.

  Wolf stirred beside me, rubbed his eyes and awoke with a giant yawn. “How do you feel?”

  “Better. How about you?”

  “Like I’ve been hit by a truck. But I think I’ll live.” He eased himself to his feet with a groan, took my hand and helped me up.

  I ran my fingers through my hair, checking out the room in the morning light. Even in its present state the room was impressive. A giant inlaid rose circled by splintered chunks of wood and glass decorated the center of the ballroom floor.

  “I never realized how beautiful this place was.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t. Anything touched by evil is ugly.” Wolf lowered his voice. “Except you, of course.”
<
br />   I looked into his eyes, at the heart rendering tenderness of his gaze. I tried to swallow a lump lingering in my throat but couldn’t. Tears sprang to my eyes. “I don't understand. You liked me, even when I was at my worst. I mean, I look so horrible.”

  “It's not about that, Dharma. It's about being yourself without worrying what other people think. I've always thought you were beautiful no matter how bad you looked because love is beautiful. And I saw the way you loved Benny, and the way you loved your mom. But most of all, I felt you really cared about me, too. With you, it wasn't about looks or being popular. I've dated tons of chicks but none of them were very nice or fun to hang with. They were all into themselves, their hair and makeup. But you're different. I can just be me for a change. I don't have to be perfect, or the star of the show. And neither do you.”

  Wolf took my hand in his and bowed. “Since we’re in such a grand ballroom, may I have this dance?”

  “Sure—if you don’t mind bruised toes.”

  Wolf grinned and pointed to his feet. “I think you're forgetting who’s wearing the boots.”

  “Guess I'm the one that needs to be careful for a change.”

  Wolf swept me into his arms and whispered into my ear. “Guess so.”

  He twirled me around then held me close while I rested my head against his firm chest, listening to his heart beat as fast as mine. Wild emotions rushed at me at once. I’d never experienced so many amazing things before—self-confidence, stability in a man's arms, and a deep connection to a place.

  Even after all the creepy events, I felt an attachment to the mansion. A home where I could finally take root, finally reclaim something taken from my family centuries ago. And in some small way I wanted to believe that by ridding the place of the curse, that there was justice for my murdered ancestors also.

  I imagined the general in his dashing uniform, dancing with his beautiful wife, the room filled with live music and festive partygoers. How sad they never got to enjoy this grand ballroom. All because of hatred and greed. Lives cut short. I thought about my mother and how she had wanted to surprise me with this house. What if she had been murdered also? I pulled away from Wolf.

  “What’s the matter?” He asked.

  “I need to find my Mom.” I went to a broken window and searched the swamp. Where was she? Why hadn’t she come back?

  “It sounds like the police are doing all they can.”

  “I know, but I can’t just sit here while she’s out there, hurt or worse. Especially now that I’m feeling better. Before, I was so weak I didn’t think I could make it very far, but now I want to go into the swamp and search for her myself. Will you go with me?”

  “Of course I will. But we need to narrow things down. Can you take me to where the van was?” Wolf asked. “That’s the best place to start searching.”

  “I’m pretty sure I can find it.”

  “Okay, then let’s go,” Wolf said. “But you better change first. You don’t want to be out there in shorts and a tank top—the insects will eat you alive.”

  “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.” I hurried down the stairs with Wolf lumbering behind me.

  He rested on the sofa in the living room while I went to get ready. My heart soared. There was no reason for Wolf to help me find Mom or to hang around now, other than the fact that he wanted to help me. To be with me. With the curse removed, the spell over his family was broken, but still he stayed to help me.

  In the bathroom, I rolled my hair into a knot and secured it with a clip. I grabbed my bag and put on some powder and lip gloss, then slipped into a pair of jeans. I stared at my reflection in my compact. Not bad for a girl who’s been cursed. I dabbed some perfume on my neck. What was I doing? I was going into the swamp, not on a date. Even so, I wanted to look as good as possible. I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed into the living room. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Wolf’s gaze traveled all the way down my body to my sandals, before working their way back to mine. “Wow, you look great.” He drew close. “You smell great, too.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I took his hand. My skin prickled with excitement. I loved the feel of his calloused hand against mine, his touch firm yet caressing at the same time.

  We stepped outside and into the muggy August heat. It was the first time since arriving that I actually felt warm. With the curse gone, it was like a funeral shroud had been lifted from the place. Wolf held the truck door open for me. Smiling, I climbed inside. He walked stiffly to the driver side and slid behind the wheel. “Sure good to see you smile again.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “But I’ll be a lot happier when I find my mother.”

  Wolf stuck a key into the ignition and started the pickup, pumping the gas a few times to keep it running. “Are you and your mom close?” he asked.

  “Close?” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t call it that. I don’t think my Mother is capable of being close with anyone. Plus, she always chose her boyfriends over Benny and me. Unfortunately, she felt they could do no wrong, no matter how lame or abusive they were. But she’s still my mother, even though she’s totally selfish and irresponsible.”

  The truck rumbled along the dirt drive. “It must have been hard, growing up like that. I can’t even imagine. I mean, I almost feel guilty for having such a perfect mom. Even when she has her weird moments, she’s still like mom of the year or whatever.”

  “Don’t feel guilty. It’s awesome you have her. And I’m so grateful she helped me with Benny. Otherwise I don’t know what would have happened.”

  “Anything look familiar?” Wolf asked.

  “Not yet. I think it’s up here a ways.” We came upon a stand of shrubs with red berries. “This is it! Just past those bushes.”

  Wolf slowed and steered the truck onto the overgrown road. Branches scraped the sides and I cringed. “Sorry about the paint.”

  “Hey, no problem. That’s that last thing I’m worried about. I just hope we can find your mom. We’ll want to be out of here before dark. The swamp is an even more dangerous place at night.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what she was doing out here. It’s weird. She hates being outside. She doesn’t like bugs, or even getting her hair messy.”

  “There’s no good reason for her to have driven all the way out here,” Wolf said. “Unless she was drunk or something.”

  I frowned, thinking about mom’s struggles with alcohol in the past. “No, I don’t think so. She used to be a total lush, but she got treatment and hasn’t drank in years.” I stared at the thick foliage; vines like chains grew in all directions. A shiver of dread chilled my blood. “What if someone forced her to drive out here, to do something horrible to her?”

  “Don’t think the worst. She could just be lost, or out partying with someone. Lots of swampers live out here. Maybe she’s with one of them.”

  I bit my lip. “I hope so.” I struggled to keep from tipping over the edge, from turning into a complete anxiety-ridden mess like I always did when Mom ditched us. Every time I had thought the worse, she’d always shown up, but what if she didn’t this time? I closed my eyes, shutting it all out. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Mom. No matter what she’d done, she was still my mom—still a part of me.

  “It’s easy to get turned around in the swamp,” Wolf said. “I know gator hunters who have traveled these waters for years and have gotten lost for a week. Plants and stuff can sink ahead of a boat in the morning, only to float up in the late afternoon, making the route totally unrecognizable. It sucks, because the swamp is always changing, high water one day, low the next.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why in the world would anyone want to live out here?”

  Wolf smiled. “Because, like you, it’s mysterious and beautiful, peaceful at times, or it can be shy, untrusting, and gloomy.”

  I smiled. “Gee, I don’t know whether to thank you or slug you.”

  Wolf laughed as we rounded a sharp corner, steering deeper
into the backwoods. Trees and vines grew thicker, whipping at us as we passed. Ahead, a huge cypress tree laid across the road, ripped from its roots, a victim of a recent storm.

  Wolf sighed. “We’re gonna have to walk from here.”

  He parked on the side of the overgrown road.

  I reached for the door handle and climbed out. Muggy air reached into my lungs, nearly stealing my breath. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I stretched my legs, glad to have so much energy again. I hiked to the fallen cypress. It looked so sad, so alone lying there—dead. I pictured my mother’s beautiful face, her eyes closed in death, blood drained from her flawless skin, her hair fanned out around her like wisps of Spanish moss ghosting in the wind.

  I suddenly didn’t want to explore the woods, or to even go looking for her. I didn’t want to see her like that, to face the truth that my mother was probably dead. I shook the image from my mind, but it kept on returning. I climbed onto the fallen tree, distracting myself by studying the area. My pulse thundered. “There!” I pointed. “That’s where the van was parked.”

  “Wait here and I’ll check it out.” Wolf hiked to the spot, fighting through the weeds.

  “Watch out,” I warned. “There’s a rotten pig’s head somewhere nearby.”

  I jumped down from the log and walked closer, but stopped at a safe distance. Flies buzzed over the nearly devoured head, and a rotten stench filled the air.

  “Yuk, guess we must have been downwind,” I said, plugging my nose. “You can smell it a mile away.”

  Wolf ignored me, staring into the dense brush.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Broken branches, to see if we can tell which direction she went.”

  “I’m sure the police have tramped over it all by now,” I said.

  “You never know. I’m a pretty good tracker, and don’t miss much. I learned it from my uncle. He lived in the swamp his whole life. What most people never notice can be a valuable clue.”

  “I wonder if she got turned around when she was trying to find the house at night?”