Scotia's Grave

by T L Harty

  Being engrossed in the TV and my meal, I hadn’t noticed that the girl Rick made out with had left or that Rick now sat on the couch with a couple of his buddies.

  “So, we were hoping you would go to a party next weekend,” Rick said. “Those girls over there are going and so are these hooligans.” He pushed the two friends around on the couch. “It’s Friday night. Are you free?”

  “I think so. Sounds like fun,” I lied. “See you then.” I walked back to my room for some peace and quiet, but was startled to find a girl in my room.

  “Hi,” she greeted. “I’m supposed to wait in Rick’s room for him. Are you joining us tonight?”

  “No,” I said, trying desperately to keep my food down. “He lives across the hall. This is my room.”

  She fumbled with a piece of paper. Rolling her eyes, she said, “I’m so dumb, it’s right here on the note.”

  “Can I see that?” She handed the paper over, smiling.

  The note read: You are so special. Let me show you how much. Come to room 311 in Royce Hall Sunday night around 8 p.m.

  I handed the note back to her, attempting to get a sense of how she was feeling about her decision. Most of the girls I had seen with Rick were confident in their poor choice to be with him, but this girl seemed nervous, unsure.

  She reminded me of the gazelles on the Wild Kingdom show- beautiful and sleek, but still no match for the hungry, cunning predators. It was up to me to save her, to sound the alarm that would urge her to scurry off before meeting her doom... or, in this case, before the inevitable walk of shame commenced.

  “But, he was making out with a girl in the TV room, wasn’t that you?” I asked this question knowing it would shock.

  “What?!” she asked, obviously horrified.

  There would be no remorse on my part, moving forward. She should be made aware of the predator’s habits so an informed decision could be made. The gazelle’s head rose from her grazing, suddenly more alert to her surroundings.

  “I see him with a different girl almost daily,” I explained. “Some are from campus, a couple from town and I’m pretty sure there has been a high school girl or two.”

  The gazelle tilted her head sideways. “Are you telling me this because you’re interested in him and want him all for yourself?”

  The guffaw managed to be suppressed. “I assure you that we’re just neighbors. Besides, he gives so much of himself away that there isn’t much left to have.”

  I heard whistling down the hall and knew the predator approached. Whispering, I said, “Hide off to the side. If you still want to be with him after you hear him speak…more power to you.”

  The door to my room was cracked, but I uncharacteristically swung it open to greet him. “Any big plans tonight, Rick?”

  “Nope,” he answered.

  “Who was that girl in the TV room that you were with? She’s new.”

  He smiled, grabbing my hand and kissing the top of it. “Now, now, don’t be jealous. You can have a ride on roller coaster Rick anytime you want.” He jerked his head toward his room with a confident smile.

  “We’re only neighbors,” I reminded. “It’s bad enough I agreed to go to that party.” I returned my hand to my side.

  “My friend has a crush on you,” he shared. “You have to go. He’s a good guy and I promised to try and get you there.”

  “We’ll see. If I go, I can make it there on my own. Being seen with you is not a good idea. That’s a reputation I’d like to avoid. What about you?” I asked. “Will you ever be a good guy and find a special girl to change your ways?” I specifically chose the word “special” because he used that on the gazelle’s note.

  “Ha!” he exclaimed. “Hell, they’re all special for a few minutes. And since I don’t have plans tonight, I’ll be thinking of you a little later.” He walked into his room and shut the door behind him.

  The gazelle bolted by me, mumbled a quick word of thanks and was last seen galloping down the hall toward safety.

  Chapter 6- Facing Demons

  “Get up, Muriel,” the voice rang out. “We have an emergency council meeting.”

  Once my eyes began to focus, I could make out that it was 3 a.m., so I rolled over. The sun wouldn’t make an appearance for hours and this pregnancy had exhausted me. “Take notes and fill me in at breakfast,” I whined.

  Macy pulled the covers off. “This is important and you need to get your lazy ass up!” For a while, Macy had been my favorite council member. Her actions this morning would force me to reevaluate that ranking.

  I angrily shot up into a seated position, smacking the bed with my hand. “What is so damn important?!” Looking at Macy, standing there in her pajamas, made me instantly soften my attitude. She must have also been roused out of bed. Macy never had a hair out of place, but tonight she looked disheveled. Obviously, neither of us were happy with the circumstances.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized.

  “Whatever, Ms. Hormonal,” Macy responded. “We’re meeting in the dining hall since the staff is asleep.” She left quietly.

  The bathroom required a visit before throwing on a robe and slowly making my way to the meeting. Ann arrived at the table with drool still on her face. Clio arrived last, but already showered and dressed, looking as though she was ready to tackle the day.

  “I’m sorry to wake you all this morning,” Clio said, before making it to the table. She didn’t sit down. “I received some news that requires immediate action. A responsible party in the murder of Muriel’s grandparents has been located. The plane is fueling. We will all accompany Muriel to Florida in an hour.”

  “We’ve never gone after someone in the middle of the night like this,” Ann remarked.

  Clio ignored Ann. “Only Muriel is going to contact the Zero,” Clio clarified. “She will get a vision read off the person and know what to do when the time comes.”

  I will? Clio’s level of confidence seemed unfounded. I explained that Deidra’s first suitor would be at the castle in a few hours. Surely, we couldn’t go now. Clio told us that all suitor visits were postponed until we returned and that we had to go now. Another chance may not come up.

  The daze of the early morning continued as we all packed for the trip. Peeking into Deidra’s room, I watched her sleep for a minute. She looked like a peaceful angel. Kissing her forehead made her rustle. I whispered in her ear how much I loved her and that we’d all return in a day or two. She slept on, but Deidra seemed to have access to anything about me in her visions, so I was confident the words would not be lost on her.

  By the time the plane was airborne, heading toward our destination, the sun had yet to make an appearance. The darkness, combined with lack of conversation, made for an opportunity to get more sleep.

  There would be plenty of time to ask questions and formulate a plan…or so I thought, but the flight to Florida lasted a little over three hours and I had managed to sleep through the bulk of it. The smaller plane landed at an executive airport terminal in Orlando.

  “These charter flights are nice,” I said. “No baggage check.”

  “This is our plane, Muriel,” Macy informed.

  “Orlando will be a good place to set up an off-shore account in your name,” Clio said. “Your money can be accessed without tracing where the withdrawals or deposits are made. It’ll also be easier to move funds when we’re abroad. We’ll do that first. Your initial account set-up may raise a red flag or two but, by the time they get here to investigate, we’ll be gone.”

  “We have our own plane?” Tina mused. “That is so cool!”

  A dozen questions were flitting through my mind after Clio’s statement, but Tina’s enthusiasm derailed my train of thought.

  A passenger van awaited our arrival. When the doors flew open, the smell of fresh-roasted coffee came from within. The fact that I couldn’t partake upset me. Ever since finding out about the baby, I stopped drinking it. She had turned out to be a handful without caffeine, so it was d
efinitely the right decision. A tray of pastries and fruit were available, so I nibbled on those.

  The driver got in the van after loading our overnight bags in the back. “Where to, ladies?”

  Clio handed the driver a card. “I called ahead for an appointment,” Clio said. “The accountant should be in the office by the time we arrive.”

  Because the idea of coming face to face with someone who had a hand in my grandparent’s demise was so distracting, the account business held no interest for me and I found myself impatiently fidgeting during the process. It took almost two hours to complete all the transactions and transfers. Clio would come in to check on my progress, looking nervous about the time.

  Once the final papers were signed and my money transferred, I received the account numbers. We all left the office and piled into the van again. Grammy left me so much money; I still found it hard to believe. I daydreamed about ways to enjoy the riches.

  The van came to a halt after twenty minutes on the road. We were in a restaurant parking lot next to a picturesque lake. The sign near the building read: Della’s Bistro.

  “Whatever happens in there, Muriel,” Macy said. “You need to remember that we are here for you.”

  “You must let us help you, if you need answers,” Bridget shared.

  Clio held out her hands so we would all do the same. After our hands linked, the energy and connection felt at the first council meeting pulsed through my veins again.

  “The person responsible for your grandparent’s death is in that bistro,” Clio announced. “You must go in there and see what you can find out.”

  “How will I know who it is…what am I supposed to look for…what should I do?” I frantically asked.

  Clio slowly shook her head back and forth, signaling there would be no answers to my queries. She opened the door to the van and I noticed goose bumps on her arm- the sign of death.

  “I’m a little cool,” she said. “You have no need to worry.”

  I got out, not looking back toward the van. It must have been 75 degrees out. Clio had no reason to feel a chill.

  With each step, my resolve grew. Whatever awaits me on the other side of the restaurant door, held answers about my beloved grandparents.

  A combination of adrenaline and anger had my heart practically beating out of my chest. I feared each heartbeat may be audible, drawing unnecessary attention to me when I walked in. My hand pressed against the cool brass on the door while pushing it open. I closed my eyes and took a big breath to help calm me down.

  After entering the quaint bistro, I took in my surroundings. It was barely past eleven and probably too early for a large lunch crowd in the middle of the week, but quite a few tables were occupied. Would the killer be identifiable? Maybe someone would be walking around with a nametag that read: Killer. That would make things easier.

  I sat down at a little corner table, facing the rest of the bistro. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. An older couple enjoyed a meal, while other patrons read their newspaper or book as they noshed on various menu items or sipped their beverages. No one looked like a cold-blooded killer.

  “Can I get you something?” the waitress asked.

  “Oh,” I said, startled. “Can I have a few minutes to decide? This is the first time I’ve been here.”

  “Of course,” she answered, with a southern accent. “I’ll be right back after you’ve had a minute to look over the menu.”

  The offerings were not numerous, making my decision that much easier. I had decided on my order, when a familiar voice rang through the air.

  “That croissant was divine, Della,” the voice sang. “Are you using a different…”

  The fact that the ending of the sentence hung in the air meant that I had been spotted, so I kept my head down and pretended to continue reading the menu.

  “Look who we have here,” the familiar voice sang. My heart, that raced a minute ago, now felt as though it had stopped.

  “Hello, mother,” I said. The greeting sounded forced, which would be on par for most of our interactions.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  The waitress came back to the table. “I would like the savory crepes and a decaf coffee, thank you,” I said to the waitress and then turned my attention back to her. “I’m here for a meal, and you?”

  “Not, what are you doing in this restaurant,” she said. “What are you doing here…in this town? Did you come all this way to see little ‘ol me?”

  “What do you mean ‘all this way’? You have no idea where I lay my head at night. I could live down the street, for all you know. But, yes, I suppose I’m here to see you.”

  I figured she must be the reason…I mean, what are the odds?! Everyone on the council would regret their part in this little stunt. Why would they want me to get together with my mother? Is this an attempt to reconcile the two of us, so we could ride off into the sunset? Someone was going to pay.

  She looked annoyed, but used a sing-song tone to say, “Well, since you’re here, let’s share a table.” She motioned her arm to her table and we both walked over to it. The wait staff knew her by name, leading me to believe she was a regular.

  After we both took a seat, she asked, “How long are you planning to be in town…assuming you don’t actually live down the street.”

  “I’m not sure. I’m here for some unfinished business with the Oris group,” I said.

  “Oh, yes.” She grinned. “I often forget about that little group. Your grandmother was so fond of them.”

  A flash. Just for a second. A fight between my mother and Grammy. The waitress poured some decaf coffee as I watched the quick vision of my mother tell Grammy she couldn’t talk to me at Christmas. That it wouldn’t be good for me to learn so many secrets at once.

  “Aren’t we both part of that group?” I asked. “I mean, you’re an Oris too.”

  “I think we’re way past the games, Muriel. Haven’t you figured out by now that there is so much more going on? It would appear we’re on two different sides of the matter.”

  Adding cream to my coffee, gave chance for another quick vision to play out: Drugs in the morning coffee. My mother’s hands over the cups.

  “You have to understand that the gifts you’ve received can be used to gain all manner of riches and power,” she said. “I’m affiliated with a group that would very much like to meet you.”

  “Why?”

  “Where have you been staying?” she asked, ignoring my question. “I’ve been looking for you, but Rick didn’t know where you were. I’ve been worried about your well-being after the loss of your grandparents.”

  It was tempting to laugh after that last lie, but a vision could not be suppressed. “Excuse me; I need to use the restroom.”

  The bathroom was made for a single occupant. After locking the door behind me, I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall to let the vision flow. The day my grandparents died, my mother drugged their coffee. Both of them were asleep in the car by the time they made it to the valley.

  My mother stopped the car in the middle of a deserted intersection, off the main road. She kept looking at her watch, until a semi could be seen barreling towards their location. The roads were flat, making the visibility so good that the truck could have been a couple of miles away.

  She went back to the car, through the driver’s side. She unbuckled her mother’s seatbelt in the passenger seat. Then, she clicked the seatbelt of the man who had been like a father to her. He sat right behind Grammy. She could see through the passenger window that the truck was not far off, driving in a perfect trajectory to hit the car. Their chests were slowly rising and falling with each breath. She disregarded their signs of life.

  I wanted to witness a hint of remorse or her eyes welling up with tears, but no sign of remorse came. She stood on the side of the road and waited for impact. The vision suddenly cut off, but the sound, alone, felt like a slap to the face.

  After some calming breaths, I spl
ashed water on my face and washed my hands. My bathroom break wasn’t more than a few minutes long, which alleviated any suspicions.

  “Can you excuse me for a minute?” she asked. “I need to make a call.”

  The waitress brought my order as she got up to use the phone. My answer to her question would have been “no,” the phone can wait, but she left before I could respond.

  “Do you know Linda well?” the waitress asked. She was bubbly and innocent.

  Grinning, I answered, “No, not that well at all.” It felt like an honest answer after what I’d witnessed.

  “That’s like her to invite you to eat with her,” the waitress said. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “No.”

  The crepe was very good. In between bites, my thoughts raced like wild horses, galloping in all directions. Maybe the vision in the bathroom wasn’t accurate. Seeing my mother has always been stressful. I’m her daughter; she would never do anything to hurt me, right? Somewhere in that craziness, she must possess a love for me.

  Even though Ann sat in the van, a few feet away, she appeared in a vision before my eyes, shaking her head back and forth, lowering her eyes in sorrow. She answered my thoughts, telling me that my mother had no love for me.

  Tina came next; shaking her head up and down, letting me know the vision of how my grandparents died held the truth. Clio showed me the goose bumps on her arm, which confused me as I didn’t know if that pertained to my grandparent’s death or if I was in danger.

  Macy mouthed a one-syllable word and even though I concentrated, it was difficult to make it out. After three attempts didn’t get her message across, she decided on a game of charades. She shielded her eyes, squinting. Macy mouthed “light.” Impulsively, my head nodded up and down, signifying that I understood. She then mouthed “no light.” This clue must mean that my mother was a dark druidess.