Haunting Me (An Angel Falls Book 3) Page 15

  I look around for Chris and find him at the back corner of the property by the fence, digging a hole with my garden shovel. As I squint into the afternoon sunlight, I realize I must have slept most of the day.

  He doesn’t say anything as I approach, but I know he’s aware of me. I remain silent, watching him curiously but also checking out his aura. I’ve seen him like this before. When he’s intent on his work, his energy field becomes much darker and most of his earthy browns, oranges, and greens change to a deep purple color. It’s fascinating. Most people I’ve noticed don’t really change colors much. There are minor variations in their aura at different times, but more or less, people seem to radiate the same colors. Chris’s field changes completely. This isn’t the only thing about Chris Abeyta that is totally unlike anyone else I know. Maybe I should stop being surprised by his peculiarities.

  Chris lays the shovel aside and kneels down on the ground. He reaches into his medicine bundle. It’s a large fur bag he takes everywhere with him. He opens a smaller leather bag and quickly, but meticulously, places objects into the hole. When he lifts his hand away to push the dirt over the objects I see a small bone, a milky white stone, and a tiny cloth-wrapped bundle.

  “Can I ask?”

  “Be more specific, Juliana.” He tamps the dirt with the back of his knuckles. Then he rises and walks across the yard toward the house.

  As I follow, I begin again. I like Chris — don’t get me wrong — but he can be as socially inept as a person can possibly get. “Hi, how are you?” I ask, and am rewarded with a contemptuous look from the corner of his eye. “So, what are you doing out here?” I ask trying to make my tone sound light and oodles more cheery than I really feel.

  “Protecting your family from ignorance and ineptitude.”

  “That’s real nice,” I say.

  “What have you been doing with your time, Juliana?” he asks as he walks around the back deck.

  “Why does everyone assume this is my fault?” I say, stopping and parking my fists on my hips. “I haven’t been doing anything.”

  He stops moving to stare at me. He’s wearing one of his customary vests. This one is a faded olive color and makes his reddish-brown skin look that much richer in color. His hair is a little wind-blown around his oval face and his nearly black eyes are penetrating and accusing. He stares me down and I would swear he sees more than I want to show him, but I stand my ground and refuse to be intimidated. Chris is my friend no matter how brash he is.

  “You’re wearing a cloud of evil perfume. It’s as obvious to me as your purple shirt. I highly doubt this mishap was caused by anyone else.”

  Chris turns on his booted heel and walks the last couple of steps to the corner of the house where he kneels in the grass and digs a new hole. I follow, feeling like the ignoramus he just accused me of being. I sink down onto the ground next to him, defeated and cross my legs in front of me.

  “I keep thinking I’m an innocent bystander in all this. I want Jared to have a long life. And maybe, start having some fun before I’m old. I’m turning twenty soon. Shouldn’t I use my last days of being a teen to do something totally self-centered and reckless?”

  Without looking at me, he says, “At what age does one become old?”

  I can feel the mockery coming from him even though his voice and face don’t change expression. “I guess it’s nineteen because I feel about a hundred today.”

  “How can you know what a hundred-year-old woman feels like?” Chris says as he finishes digging.

  “At the rate I’m going, I’ll never live that long,” I say, feeling renewed frustration over everything I’ve experienced this summer.

  “You will see when the Shadow of Creator comes for you.”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” I say.

  He stops what he’s doing, turns, and sits down with his back against the house. It unnerves me to see him acting casually, then I realize he isn’t just making himself comfortable, he’s settling in for something he wants to tell me.

  “What is the difference if you have one hour of life or a hundred thousand hours?”

  This time I wait to see if he’ll continue. When he remains quiet I try to come up with an answer that won’t make me sound any more ignorant than he already thinks I am. “If I had one hour left to live, I probably wouldn’t waste it on worrying about what my future is going to be like.”

  He raises his sparse eyebrows at me as a reply.

  “Did I get it right?” I ask, even though I already feel like he’s made his point.

  “You have always been quick to pick up on what I have to say, so let me share with you something else.”

  “What?” I say as I shift on the grass so a clump isn’t poking the back of my thigh. “Are you finally going to tell me why everyone thinks I’m the one responsible for the ghosts in the house?”

  “It is not only ghosts inside the house. And no,” he pauses to stare off across the yard.

  He appears mesmerized by the forest, and the early evening sun, and he doesn’t move a muscle.

  “Wait, Ant,” he finally says. “I will tell you about the Fox and the Raven. Test your restraint and see if you can hold your questions until the story is finished,” he says and I hear the twinge of impatience I’ve grown accustomed to.

  I seal my lips, waiting and wondering what Chris is up to. He looks away from the west and over to me just long enough for me to see his mouth soften ever so slightly. His gaze shifts back to the forest.

  “There was once a fox that lived in these mountains.”

  With his very first words a streak of electric current runs over my skin and causes the hairs on my arms to rise. I wriggle my shoulders, attempting to settle my suddenly spastic nerve endings and force myself to stay still and listen.

  “The fox was black as coal. Not like the foxes you see today. There was no red, or white, or yellow, or even any gray, only black. Even its eyes were dark. The color suited Fox well because Black Fox was an expert at hiding and being unseen. Fox liked to hunt and play during the night and was a mysterious creature to all the other animals in the forest because no one ever saw Fox unless the fox wanted to be seen. Its only sadness was that Fox was afraid of the Sun. Fox thought if the Sun could see her then her magic would disappear and Fox would lose her mysterious power. Then all the animals in the forest would know she was only a fox, and not a shadow or a mystical creature that came out at night and was never seen by day. So Black Fox slept during the day and only came out after dark.”

  Chris stirs, throws me a sideways glance of dark brown eyes, and then stares off into the woods.

  “One night, Fox was out hunting mice, or chasing rabbits, or whatever it is that Black Fox liked to do when she heard a strange noise. Fox was curious and made her way closer and closer to the sound. Black Fox was a very clever animal and very quiet. She knew she could find out what was going on without ever being seen because this was the way of Fox. She liked to observe but not be observed. Fox was also afraid of what might happen if anyone discovered she was really an animal with great power.”

  Chris stops and takes a few breaths. I stay quiet, knowing there’s more to the story. He doesn’t keep me waiting long.

  “What no one knew, except the Sun, was that Black Fox had the ability to travel to other worlds. She grew up thinking if anyone ever found out about her power they would accuse her of magic or going against the Great Mother Earth, or even try to steal it away. This frightened Black Fox. So Fox spent most nights alone, keeping only to her tight circles of fox friends and family and rarely associating with the other animals of the forest.

  “But Black Fox was also a curious animal. This night, she could not resist the strange shuffling sounds she heard. She crept closer until she could see what was making the noise. It was a raven. The raven had a broken wing and could not fly. Black Fox was not an uncaring fox, but she had heard many stories about the cunning and magical ways of the ravens. She started to back away, too uncerta
in to approach Raven, and too scared by the stories she knew. She stayed in the deep shadows and tiptoed away, but Raven knew she was there because ravens have the sight to see all magic in the world.

  “‘We are very similar creatures, Black Fox,’ Raven said.

  “Startled, Black Fox froze, not sure if she should say anything.

  “‘We both wear the colors of the Void. I know you can travel to the Netherworld because I have seen you there. You cannot hide from me.’

  “Black Fox’s ears were high as she listened to Raven, but she was still uncertain if she could trust someone she did not know.

  “‘I am injured and I cannot harm you.’

  “Black Fox turned around and slowly crept back to where Raven sat helplessly on the ground. She stared at Raven’s black eyes reflecting the moonlight.

  “‘You see the truth in what I say. We are made of the same stars and night and earth and Void. Would you leave a brother to die alone with no family and no comfort but the trees by his side?’

  “‘I am only a fox,’ she said. ‘I do not know how to fix your wing.’

  “‘Yes, but you can carry me to my family and they would heal my broken wing.’

  “‘I could carry you, but I do not know where to go.’ Black Fox was considering helping Raven because she did not want him to suffer, but she was still uncertain.

  “‘My people live near the Great Leaning Oak. Do you know where this tree is located?’

  “‘No,’ said Black Fox.

  “‘I may know many things about the Netherworld, but it is hard to describe how the earth looks from the ground when I only know it from the sky. Do you know the winding river that eats an egg?’

  “‘I know many rivers, but not a single one eating anything.’

  “Raven was not about to give up so he tried once more. ‘Do you know where Turtle Rock is?’

  “Black Fox started to get excited. She said, ‘Yes, I do know that rock.’

  “‘If you can take me to Turtle Rock, I can direct us from there to my Great Leaning Oak.’

  “Black Fox made the decision to help Raven so he would not die alone in the forest. Raven climbed onto Black Fox’s back and she carried him to Turtle Rock.

  “The distance was very far and they encountered many hardships, but Black Fox was selfless in her quest to help Raven return home. They even traveled during the day because Black Fox could tell Raven was weakening. She wanted to bring him home as soon as possible so the raven healer could mend him. Day and night they traveled and Black Fox learned the Sun was indeed stealing her power. Her black fur was fading and she was becoming weaker, but she was determined to help her new friend and continued on.

  “Raven tried to explain to her that the mighty Sun would never harm her, but Black Fox did not believe all of Raven’s stories, for everyone knows Raven is a weaver of tales, and his stories are mixed with facts from this world and the Netherworld.”

  Chris pauses and turns to face me. “It is very hard to determine what truths belong in this world and which ones go to the other world when Raven speaks.”

  “I’ll have to take your word on that,” I say.

  Chris continues.

  “Both Raven and Black Fox were very weak by the time they saw Turtle Rock.

  “Raven said, ‘From the top of Turtle Rock we will see my nest. I will call and my family will come. Then we will both rest and eat and we will be well again.’ Black Fox could hardly take another step, but she forced herself to climb to the top of the rock.”

  Chris halts his story to call out like a raven with near perfect imitation. Slightly taken aback, but absolutely mesmerized, I sit and listen and wonder why he is spending so much time telling me this story. Chris has always been a person of few words and has even told me he gets sick of hearing himself. He obviously wants me to get some meaning out of this. A distant raven answers back. He relaxes and settles against the foundation of my house.

  “Raven’s voice was weak but he cawed and they waited. When they saw the black outlines of his raven family gliding over the horizon, they felt great relief. As their rescuers flew in closer a thunderous storm blew in and nearly toppled them off Turtle Rock. Raven tried to ease Black Fox’s worry for he knew this was but another hardship of their journey, but Black Fox did not know if she could endure any more.

  “Thunder and lightning took over the sky and it was very hard for Raven’s family to come close, but they made it to him and were so happy to see their brother.

  “Immediately they took Raven away to the healer to have his wing mended.

  “But, Black Fox was not forgotten or ignored. When the ravens returned to bring her to their nest they found that Black Fox had died. The ravens brought her body to their home and showed their injured brother.

  “Raven was shocked, but he also knew death was not the end for Spirit and since ravens can travel to the Netherworld, the ravens decided to find Black Fox there and to thank her for saving Raven’s life.

  “When they found her, they asked her why she sacrificed herself.

  “Black Fox said, ‘I did not realize I was giving up my life. He needed assistance and I was able to give it. The mighty Sun has taken my life, but it is no trouble. I am glad to help.’

  “The ravens looked at one another astonished by Black Fox’s words. Raven came forward and said, ‘The Sun did not do this to you. The Sun brings life. It does not take it away. You have died from a selfless act. Does this not concern you?’

  “She thought about what he shared and said, ‘I do believe you, and I do not want to blame the Sun. I thought he was to blame because I was so weak and the more I was in the Sun during our travels the more I faded. Even my black coat is faded. I see now it was my fault for not paying attention, but it is too late for me. I am sad I left my life behind. It is sad I will not see my family and friends again, but I will not dwell on my mistake.’

  “The ravens left Black Fox in the Netherworld and had a meeting. They decided to give Black Fox a gift for her sacrifice, and for bringing Raven home. The gift was to allow her to come back to her earthly life.

  “To accept this gift she had also to accept one condition, for no one comes back from the spirit worlds unchanged. She must wear the colors the Sun had changed her black fur into. Each color is significant. The red is for the earth and the blood that flows through her body. The white is a reminder to not forget she is also part spirit. Black paws to remember she travels to both worlds, and gold eyes for the Sun, the bringer of life, even as she walks within the Netherworld, because there is always some light within the dark.”

  Chris continues to stare across the tree-covered yard long after his last words. I swallow and wait for him to say something else, or move, or tell me why he wanted to share his story with me, but he doesn’t. Finally, he leans forward and kneels on the ground, his medicine bundle close to hand. He resumes his digging next to the corner of the house.

  “Wait,” I say, perplexed.

  His almost black eyes shift my way and it reminds me of the Netherworld in the story. I want to put up my invisible shields. It isn’t because I don’t trust him, it’s because he sees too much of me, and I don’t like feeling transparent. I have to keep my shields down. He’s only trying to help me and my family. Oddly, I’m not sure what I want to say after his long narrative.

  “You have nothing to say?” he mocks, and resumes digging.

  “I think the black fox only wanted to help. Did she have to die for caring?”

  Chris pauses for a second and then talks as he works. “Raven gave the gift of life for Black Fox’s selflessness.”

  “But she died first,” I say, thinking of all the parts of the story at once.

  “Yes, Ant. She died.”

  “She was afraid of the sun and was convinced the sun was killing her. Does that mean we create our fears?”

  Chris doesn’t answer, only continues to dig his hole.

  “And she changed color. Is that some kind of metaphor or
something?”

  Chris slants a look at me but doesn’t say anything for a long minute.

  “There is always a balance. When there is disharmony, you end up with misfortune like we have going on here in your dwelling.” He lays the shovel aside and grabs the smaller leather bag from his medicine bundle.

  He’s not going to tell me anything else regarding the story. I can feel the closure of the subject just like shutting a book. The book. I slap my forehead. Chris’s eyebrow twitches with attention.

  “I went to the Midnight Sage New Age store yesterday,” I say. “Umm…” I shrug and a shudder ripples through my gut. “I didn’t think anything about it. I brought home this book. It’s just a book,” I try to explain, but it falls desperately short even to my own ears.

  “Get it,” he says.

  Chapter Thirteen: Fairy Jail

  Nathaniel

  Exhaustion by sheer madness and head banging against the wall is something I wouldn’t recommend. After the self-inflicted torment, a long rest and recharge, I’ve returned to the cave of the fairies. Liam hasn’t shown his face. I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped. My thoughts and my heart continually return to Juliana. What have I done? Over and over I replay the circumstances of what has led me here. My intentions were untainted, I have no doubt about that, but why do I keep ending up in the most ludicrous situations? Am I a bigger noob than I thought? It’s a definite possibility. Left alone with only my infinitely tortured mind to keep me company, the “fairy lock” has fast become my nightmare.

  Rain is the song of the morning. There’s no escape from this stone prison, and there are no actual fairies, at least none since the mirage of the girl when I first entered. I thought once I could see Juliana’s image in the little pool toward the back of the cave, but it wasn’t like the first time. No, this was a wavering image on the surface of the water. Like a liquid mirror. She was there, the curve of her cheek framed by black hair, a glint of gold in her green eyes, and that perfect soft mouth of hers. There were shadows circling around her image which made me uneasy. Then she was gone and I was left staring at the black water and longing for her like a soul in hell longs for freedom.