by Ayse Hafiza
George killed himself, he had purposefully put a veil between himself and the living, so in Franks mind, he just needed to look after his mom until all the residue of his father's spirit decided to pass on fully. Tomorrow he would make a start on cleansing the house, and in time he would help mom heal. If in that process she wanted to introduce him again to that lady from the police then Frank wouldn’t mind. Although it didn’t matter how much his mom liked her, she wasn’t someone that would not get on with his lifestyle. That was one of the difficult things about the gap between his parents and himself they would never really understand his lifestyle or his choices. How could he tell them that he lived in a commune and talked to the spirits of the dead outside the part-time work he got as a barman.
He closed the kitchen door and said an incantation. His father killing himself was good news really, it meant he hadn’t killed his mom, and that was the deepest fear that Frank fought to keep below the surface whenever he thought of his parents. Now though there was only one parent to think about.
Frank drunk a glass of water in the kitchen and turned again to look at the garage door, he wished he had a bulldozer to just knock it down, but he didn’t. He finished his glass and turned to walk into the hall at the foot of the stairs he paused looking at the eerie mirror in its antique gold casing. The negative energy that exuded from it creeped him out. There needed to be some changes in this house. That was the thing Frank never realized. He was more like this father than he would ever understand. Frank was going to become the man of the house, and that was what George had been.
When Lizzy woke the next morning, she put out two plates, and for a minute she was surprised to see Frank standing before her in the kitchen. Then it all came back to her and she slowly turned to look out the window at the garage. She sobbed as the memory of yesterday came back and fell into the comforting hug of Frank.
“Shhh,” Frank said as he rocked his delicate mom and kissed her on the top of her head. Her tears seeped into his jumper. He could feel the warm flowing tears touch his skin. “I’m here for you.”
He rocked her, and they stood like that for a long time. Lizzy composed herself and looked at the metal of her thin gold band on her hand. Holding it in front of her watery eyes and studying the meaning of it for herself.
“Until Death do you part,” Frank said, planting another kiss on the crown of his mom’s white-blond thinning hair.
“Oh Frank, I don’t know how I’m going to cope,” she confessed.
“You’ll cope one day at a time Mom,” he replied softly.
She took a deep breath as she tried her hardest to accept his answer.
“The good thing is that you’re free,” he said.
He hadn’t even dared to have the hope to have a conversation with his mom like this, but by some miracle here they were.
She turned away from him and used the countertop of the table to make herself stable.
“I don’t know how to live without him.”
“You can live however you want.”
She took a deep breath, “He’s been such a large part of my life. . .I just don’t know.”
“Mom you’re free, you can do whatever it is that you want to do. You can sell this house, take a cruise and see the world. You can learn French. You can go back to your book club. You can host book club meetings here if you want. . .you’re free.”
She turned, her wide eyes to look at him, “But Frank, I don’t know what that means!”
“Make it mean whatever you want it to mean Mom.”
She smiled a little warily as she turned from him. She once again appeared to step into her caregiving role and set the table for them before cooking them eggs.
“Here I’ve got an idea, let’s eat in front of the television.”
Lizzy's eyes opened wide, she didn’t even know how to use it. It was Frank’s and it was in his room.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said in delicate protest.
“It’s yours now, everything here is yours now,” Frank said, desperately trying to show her the implication of her husband's death.
Lizzy stood a little taller as the words settled in her ears.
“Why not.”
They opened the door to George’s room. It smelled of stale smoke and his pipe was still on the side table.
Frank pushed aside his father's blue armchair. If he could, he would take that into the garden and burn it, but his mom wasn’t ready for that yet. She was still a hummingbird in her gilded cage unaware the trap door had been left open. He decided then that he would stay with her until she was ready to move on, either physically or mentally from the house she thought of as home.
Next, he opened the windows, found the remote control, and then lastly, he put on the television.
Lizzy sat in fascination, she was allowed into George’s room to watch, but only on occasion. Otherwise she only saw it off when she went to put his paper or his slippers in the room.
“We should give this room a bit of a clean once that policewoman has left,” said Frank.
Lizzy nodded, although she didn’t like being in the room, being with Frank in Georges space gave her a sense of support.
Frank knew exactly what he would do to clean the room, and he hoped that his mom’s herb cupboard was full. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do for now.
Frank dug into his eggs enjoying every handful of his mom's cooking. He had missed her, and for the first in a million times he was really grateful that she was the one who survived. He made it his mission to help her live again. She had suppressed her wants and desires so many times and put others before herself. She would be his project.
The doorbell rang a few hours after breakfast and the policewoman Jane came in, this time with a man in tow. Frank recognized him from yesterday. Frank wasn’t disappointed with his mom’s choice, and the young woman struggled to keep her eyes on just Frank’s mom. He could feel an old familiar feeling stir in his heart and he wondered if maybe his mom had more intuition than she let on.
He left the room to make them a cup of tea when the policewoman came into the kitchen to offer help. The silence was odd, so as Frank waited for the kettle to boil. He decided to speak to this graceful stranger.
“Thank you for staying with her yesterday.”
Was a good starting point.
“No problem. I would hope that if my mom was in the same position that someone would do the same for me.”
“Well, I can’t thank you enough. I’m sure Mom was out of sorts with lots of male policemen in the house.”
“She seems better today.”
“She is, but just marginally. It will take time.”
“And what are your plans? Do you think you’ll be able to stay for a little while?”
“Yes, I think I can stick around,” said Frank making his mind up during the conversation.
“Good, well if there is anything I can do to help feel free to call me,” she said giving him a smile and writing her phone number on a piece of paper and leaving it on the kitchen counter.
“We don’t have a phone,” Frank confessed.
“There’s a phone booth near the shops.”
Frank smiled and couldn’t help let his gaze linger on her pretty mouth. There was a chemistry between them. He kept an eye on her for the rest of the meeting.
6
Frank and Jane
Frank held the piece of paper in his hand in the red telephone booth. He felt the edges tracing them with his fingertips.
It had been a few days since the policewoman visited, since she had sat in the room with his mom drinking tea. There was something about her, something that made him excited though he didn’t know what it was. He liked her, maybe because he could see the colors of her aura. He liked her he knew that much, but what could he ask of her? How could he create an excuse that would make their paths cross? He wasn’t sure.
He rung her after deciding it was now or never if he left it beyond the third day she woul
d forget him and surprisingly he couldn’t handle that thought.
“Hi, this is Frank Blades, my father. . .”
“Hello Frank,” came her warm response. She sounded pleased to hear from him. And her warm interjection saved him from having to complete his sentence. “How are you?”
“I’m good considering the circumstances.”
“That’s good news and your mom?”
“She’s coping day by day. I don’t think she really knows what to do with herself.”
“Well, of course, it’s a big upheaval for her.”
“Do you know when we’ll be able to make the funeral arrangements?” Frank blurted out. He didn’t want this conversation to be about his father, but he wasn’t able to ask her what he really wanted to.
“I will check with the coroner's office, they will have issued the certificate. It was a pretty clear case. . .if you like I can pop by and help explain the process. Your mom and I seem to get on well with each other.”
“Yes, I noticed that,” said Frank finally finding his real voice.
Jane laughed, it was magical. He fell in love right there while on the phone with her.
“We’d both like to see you, that is if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I’ll swing by after six.”
Frank nodded vigorously. What was he doing? She wasn’t the type of woman he should have been getting involved with, she was the law and Frank was anything but and yet the thought of seeing her made his heart skip a beat.
Before she came, he opened all the windows in the house and burned the last of his mom’s sage. He wanted to make sure that the only energy in the room was that of the living.
He carried the smoke near the mirror. Ever since he had been in the house, he wanted to throw it out, put it on the pavement for someone else to deal with.
He stopped and put his hands on the golden frame and took it off the wall, the wallpaper behind was untainted, whereas the paper on the walls now appeared dirty.
“Oh no son, put it back,” said Lizzy as she came downstairs.
“Mom I really don’t like this mirror.”
“Well, it’s part of your inheritance so don’t let the mirror hear you say that.”
Frank looked at her as she straightened her cardigan, turned past him at the foot of the stairs and went into George’s back room. She had managed to adjust to using the room as an informal seating space where they would allow themselves to be mesmerized by the television. Frank wanted to ask his mom what she meant, and he hoped that it was just a slip of her tongue. The words, ‘…don’t let the mirror hear you say that’ bothered him. There could be no other meaning, his mom knew something of the other side of the veil. Maybe his shamanic capabilities were part of his DNA?
He took a step toward the room leaving the mirror on the floor. He had decided it was time to have a conversation. He left the remainder of the sage in front of the mirror, knowing it was the part of the house that had the darkest energy.
Entering the room, he sat next to her, resting his elbows on his knees leaning forward, he wondered how to start the conversation.
Her eyes were glued to the television set.
“Mom what did you mean back there?”
“Oh, don’t be so innocent,” she said turning and laughing a little. “You heard me just fine.”
“Elizabeth Blades! Please tell me what you meant?”
“I have visions just like you Frank, you're not the only one in the family who is gifted.”
“But. . .but. . .but.” He didn’t know what he wanted to say. “We’ve never spoken like this before.”
“We couldn’t, your father would never have understood.”
“Dad couldn’t see?”
“No, he couldn’t see anything,” she confirmed.
“Why did you marry him?”
“It was simple really. My mom had the same gift, it’s hereditary and I was afraid of it. I needed to get away from her. Her prayers or incantations call them what you want. She was the original owner of the mirror, or my great, great, grandmother was. It goes back a long while. Your Dad wanted to marry me and that gave me an escape.”
Frank shook his head. How could she have kept this to herself for all these years? He had always thought of himself as a freak, but he had never been alone. He was shocked, but he couldn’t let himself be overwhelmed by his emotions when finally, he was getting some answers.
“Did you love him?” asked Frank. He didn’t know where the candid questions came from.
“Of course, well for a while at least. I did my duty to him, so I don’t really know why it is that he can’t move on.”
Frank moved closer to her.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh Frank, don’t you see him at night in the window of the garage. I thought you’d see him when you go and smoke your drugs in the garden.”
Frank sat back. Who was this woman he was speaking with and what had she done with his mom?
“Well, I see him looking over the house, and I stand there watching him until I get tired.”
“Mom we should leave this house,” said Frank.
“Maybe,” said Lizzy. “But this is my home too, I’m not sure I want him to push me out.”
“If you had this ability why did you stay with him when he made everyone around him miserable?”
“I made him miserable,” she whispered. “I did it so he wouldn’t speak to me. I didn’t want him to bother me, maybe he’s learned that and that’s why he can’t move on,” she said conspiring.
“I spent my life worried about you, wondering if he would raise his hand to you,” Frank confessed in disbelief.
“The only time I worried about that was when I lost our daughter. I knew he loved her, but I couldn’t have a girl, she would have been just like me, living in fear of her mom. No, I wasn’t ready for that. So, I had the accident, it was painful for me too, but my tears generated some compassion within him.”
Frank sat back, his mind was blown. He looked out of the back room window at the garage. It looked so innocent.
“When you’re forty son, that’s when you will really feel the full extent of your power,” she said touching his knee as if signaling that was the last of the conversation.
Frank didn’t want it to be the last time they spoke like this, he had a million more questions he needed to know the answer to, but he defaulted to his usual mode of wondering about his mom’s safety.
“Are we safe from him?” he asked.
Lizzy broke her gaze from the television set, it was showing the news, but they weren’t watching it, not really.
“For the moment,” said Lizzy.
Frank sat back and wiped his hands over his face. How had he never realized that his mom knew of his abilities?
“When did you realize about yourself?”
“When I hit puberty, but we come from a long line of witches.”
“Witches? But I’m a shaman,” Frank protested.
“No son you’re both, which is why you will be the inheritor of the mirror. It’s a very powerful object.”
“I don’t want it,” Frank declared.
“Don’t worry you will.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll find out.”
Frank stood up and walked to the window and looked out over the garden. The house was familiar, everything was familiar, and yet with what he had just learned he realized that nothing was the same. Frank was lost for words and he was glad that he would have this opportunity with his mom to talk and try to understand his weirdness which was apparently hereditary.
He turned to look at her, the innocence of her look, the papery skin on her face with wrinkles around her eyes, and the small lines around her mouth. She was the enigma, not his father. As Frank stood in the same room, he realized that she had been far more powerful than he could have ever imagined, and he wondered why he had never asked her about his instincts and powers before.
Frank
left the room and picked up the burned sage. He looked at the mirror and no matter how much he tried he couldn’t force himself to like anything about it. It bothered him, he didn’t like it at all. Picking up his sage he left the mirror on the floor and walked around the rest of the house, sage smudging and in deep thought.
The doorbell rung at six and there she was on his doorstep with the sun shining behind her. He could see slivers of it through the threads of her hair. She had her constables hat in her hand and he felt a closeness to her. Jane was so wrong for him, but she made him feel shy which was something that he hadn’t felt around women for a long time.
He let her in and she sat with Lizzy in George’s room.
They could see from her expression that Jane was glad to see the old woman claiming her space in front of the television set and not relegated to the other room as she had been. Lizzy sat patiently as the officer handed across paperwork. Lizzy excused herself and went into the kitchen to make them all a pot of tea.
“Thank you for being so very helpful,” Frank said with a smile.
She met his gaze and smiled back.
“I just wish I had met you under better circumstances,” said Jane.
He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He could see the perfect line of her immaculate teeth.
“So why a cop?” Frank asked.
Jane laughed, and Frank fell in love again.
“And why not?” answered Jane not giving anything away about her career choices.
She was flirting with him, Frank could feel it.
“Are you single?” Frank asked.
“Well, you’re forward,” she fake protested.
The chemistry between them was tangible and Frank realized that was why his mom had left them alone, so they could get to know each other.
“Yes,” said Jane slowly. She’d only just decided that she wasn’t with Barry anymore. She wasn’t willing to be his girl on the side when a dark-haired perfectly handsome Italian looking, blue-eyed man was enquiring about her.
“Would you like to get a drink sometime?” asked Frank quietly.