Beloved Evangeline (12 page)

“
I’ve never heard anything about my mother’s family before. I guess I thought they died a long time ago. Why has no one ever told me about my grandfather?”

“
That’s a rather ugly story, I’m afraid, and I don’t think I’m the right person to tell it. I am sorry you’ve had to go so long without knowing, but your mother expressly forbade anyone talk to you about her family. She drew up a contractual agreement, in fact, before her...ah, unfortunate, ah.. Well, the point is, it was against her wishes for you to know.”

“
So why are you here now, if it’s not what she wants?”

“
Well, we recently won an appeal, and her contract was found not legally binding, given her state of mind, and based on...ah, the fact that you’re grandfather doesn’t have much time left. We’ve got important family business, and there’s really no one else. Specifically, there’s a sizeable inheritance that needs to be left to someone, not money, mind you, but a large estate and some items that need to be treated with discretion, and, ah.... kept within the family.”

“
I can’t believe this is the first I’m hearing of this.” I sighed, exasperated. “I’ve had a
really
bizarre week, and I don’t understand what you could possibly need from me after all this time.” My impatience was quickly deteriorating into rudeness, despite my best efforts.

“
How refreshingly direct! You and your grandfather would’ve really gotten along. Well, to be honest, this makes my job much easier. I had been working on a tactful way of getting to this, but, to be honest, everything I’ve come up with ended up sounding a little made-up. I know this is an odd request, but.... what I need is for you to come to your grandfather’s estate on October 24
^th
... at precisely midnight.”

I scrunched my brows, and squinted, suddenly barely able to keep my eyes open, “Why midnight?” I yawned into my sleeve.

“
Again, that’s something I was working on explaining, but nothing sounds quite right. Let’s just say that your inheritance comes with... restrictions.” He smiled sadly.

“
Okay, well, that’s... tomorrow?” I found myself looking at my watch for some reason. It doesn’t display the date, but it did give me something to do, to make it look like I could possibly forget the date this time of year. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help with
whatever
this is, but I’m pretty sure I just lost my job and don’t have the money to buy a plane ticket right now, so I really don’t see what I can do.”
Whew
, let off the hook by my finances, for once.

He laughed quietly. “No, honey. Your grandfather lives just up the coast. It’s only about an hour or so from here.”

“
He lives... here?”

He suddenly looked sad again. “I’m sorry no one told you sooner, sweetheart. We sure wanted to, your grandfather and I. He’s been sort of keeping tabs on you, though, for what that’s worth.”

I didn’t know what to say. My ill temper evaporated. How could I not go visit my dying grandfather, who had been living an hour away all this time? “I guess, I guess I’ll be there. But you’ve been pretty vague, so I’m not promising I’ll be able to help.”

He smiled the same sad smile. “One more thing I need to tell you... Your grandfather may or may not be well enough to have a proper visit. The doctor gave him only months to live—over a month ago.”

8.

I’ve never been someone who could be somewhere at exactly a certain time. Fifteen minutes early or late, yes. Exactly on time, no. So, I was understandably nervous about Mr. Talbot’s cryptic instructions about having to be there at
exactly
midnight. I’ve never heard of anyone having to be anywhere at midnight, let alone at
exactly
midnight.

Again, selecting a proper outfit was a chore. I enjoy dressing nicely for work or specific occasions, but nonspecific jaunts such as this one leave me a bit frustrated. There’s a delicate balance to achieve between not looking so sloppy that it shows disrespect and being overdressed like a pretentious jerk. So, jeans and a navy Mandarin collar shirt with a steel gray pea coat? And boots. For some reason I can make boots work with just about any outfit. I selected my knee-high black leather motorcycle boots and pulled them on with purpose.

I left the house about 10:00 p.m., hoping I wouldn’t have too much trouble finding the place. Even in the dark, the drive was spectacular. The full moon shone nearly as bright as the sun, the silver light illuminating Spanish moss dripping from enormous wind-blown oak trees. I only had to turn around once, maybe twice, before finding my grandfather’s place. A stone bridge took me to what appeared to be a small island, a place I never knew even existed. It was impossible to tell whether I was still in Florida or had crossed into Georgia. Following the winding drive to my grandfather’s house, the island was shrouded in trees and mist. The drive was at least three miles.

I had never seen such a house before. My heart beat fantastically in an unfamiliar rhythm. Atop the second story were three large spires of varying shapes and sizes. The surrounding gnarled trees only added to its dark mystery. No one looking at the home could possibly conjure warm, happy thoughts, and
no one
who valued their sanity could possibly live in such a house for very long.

Tiptoeing the huge flight of steps leading to the front porch, I felt the stirrings of unease increasing, and a strange sense of foreboding settled over me. I paused for a moment and considered turning back. I shouldn’t feel obligated to someone who waited more than 30 years to pop into my life. I could easily turn around and go home. No one could think badly of me for doing so. But, on the other hand, I had to admit it was silly that this strange feeling of dread had so much power over me—just a spooky house. Should I miss out on what was probably my only chance to see my grandfather alive just because I was afraid? Afraid of what I was not sure, but the feeling was strong enough that I stayed frozen in place for several minutes.

In the end, my curiosity and sense of obligation won out, and I continued. All the while, though, nature seemed to be sending me a strange kind of warning. Everything from the chirp of the crickets to the flash of the last of the summer lightning bugs seemed bizarrely ominous. The majestic oak trees, always so lovely to me during the day, now appeared menacing, like giant arms bursting through the ground to block my path. I felt their shadows closing in on me as the dark clouds obscured the moon. Even the ominous house itself seemed to be glaring at me in silent warning, its eye-like windows suddenly filling me with an unspeakable terror.

As I eyed the clouds above, their shaped transformed—for the briefest of moments—into a very death mask of evil as the moon cast its glow upon them. Before I could turn back and run, the front door was thrown open. I jumped, leaving my heart in the space I’d previously occupied.

Mr. Talbot called out, “Evangeline, you’re right on time! I’m very impressed. Wasn’t sure you were up to it... think most people would’ve thought this sounded too crazy and would’ve changed their mind at the last minute. Not you though! Definitely got your grandfather’s courage, I see.”

I couldn’t speak. Had he known that I was about to leave? Of course that would be impossible... Still, there was something in his tone that suggested otherwise.

“
Well, come on in girl. No sense standing around in the dark. Besides, it’s one minute to midnight. Best come on in.”

I looked back at my car. I could certainly outrun this frail old man. Wouldn’t be good manners, though, to just turn around and run. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m well aware that my life experience has caused me to see things in a certain way, to see danger in almost any situation—not exactly rational. Or healthy. And, now that Mr. Talbot was here, this dear, sweet man, my fears seemed all the more ridiculous. I took a deep breath. I needed to let go. I tried my best to let go of my (mostly) irrational fears as I walked up to the house.

He suddenly threw his arms around me as I reached the top of the steps. There was a peculiar twinkling in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”

The grand home was resplendent with high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and gorgeous mahogany wood floors. Mr. Talbot led me to a grand sitting room in which lavishly painted oversized portraits covered the walls.

“
I’ve got some tea ready. I know if you’re anything like your grandfather, you love having your tea. Excuse me a moment while I check go check on him.”

As I watched him walk away, I was jolted by the expressions on the larger than life-sized portraits around the room. None of the subjects in the eight portraits seemed to look at me. All were looking sort of past me. But the main thing, the thing that startled me the most, was that the face on each portrait seemed to have the same expression. Each person wore a strangely smug expression, an expression that suggested they knew something—something of extreme importance—that I didn’t. The feelings of paranoia only grew as I sipped my tea. There were seven men among them and only one woman, but all had the same bizarrely penetrating grey eyes. The room was octagonal, almost circular really, so in spinning around to look at them, I grew increasingly dizzy.

After a few minutes, I became so dizzy in fact that my head began to ache, and I had to look away—but how could I? I was completely surrounded by those hideous faces. With one hand on my forehead, I took a long, steadying sip of tea. It was an intoxicatingly warm and aromatic rosemary blend, the finest I had ever tasted. Surely I’d be feeling better in no time. Strangely, though, the exquisite tea failed to help, and I began to feel even more paranoid
not
looking at the terrible portraits. Were they closing in around me? I felt sure that they were. Self preservation instincts screamed for me to run, leave that place and never look back. For reasons unknown to me I couldn’t seem to move. I sat completely still, save for stealing glances to make sure the ghastly apparitions in the portraits had not actually begun their descent.

After several long minutes of this I couldn’t continue with my skin intact. I tried to stand up, but instead stumbled and fell back into my chair. Something was
very
wrong. My chest began to tighten, but my hands were oddly steady. I held them up—no shaking. This was not one of my attacks. Something else was happening. I tried my best to focus, but the portrait before me only came in and out of focus, its now twisted and contorted face looking more malevolent than ever. I heard someone talking but it was very far away.

“
Hands. Not. Shaking.”
Was that my voice?

I tried again to stand up, but stumbled backwards instead, knocking the chair over.
Get ahold of yourself, Evangeline
, I reminded myself sensibly. Unfortunately, my body was incapable of listening as gravity for some reason was working against me, and I was pulled down sideways, my head and side crashing to the floor painfully. A blood-curdling scream filled my ears. No, not a scream.
Laughter
. Heart-stopping, mocking laughter. My hands instinctively covered my ears, but the laughter did not abate. That horrific laughter, terrifying beyond all reason, went on for two lifetimes. I could no longer see anything. My heart seemed to be beating in my throat.

Just as my synapses sputtered and threatened to quit firing entirely, the laughter dissipated, drowned out by a strange whirring sound. I was aware of something, or several things, brushing against me as they rushed past.

For several terrifying moments, I could see nothing.

Miraculously, a twinkling blue light appeared. The light gradually grew brighter and brighter; shadows began forming. I held onto the light like a life raft; it seemed to be the only thing staving off the darkness. I was still straining to make sense of the shadows when the real world suddenly came rushing back into focus.

“
Evangeline? Can you hear me?” Sir Talbot asked. “Can you sit up?”

I blinked and strained my eyes furiously. “I don’t know,” I finally croaked. My head spun sickeningly.

Talbot helped me into a chair. “Are you hurt? How do you feel?”

“
I don’t really know... I just sort of... fell down,” I began, relaying my own confusion. There was a strange taste in my mouth, and my bottom lip throbbed painfully.

“
Well, as soon as you feel well enough, I have that paperwork to show you. I had just come down to tell you your grandfather isn’t up for a visit tonight, after all. He hasn’t woken up at all today.”

My focus began to return slowly, but a dull pain in my stomach began to take its place. “
Ow
,” I grumbled.