Escaping Fate (19 page)

He watched us carefully. He knew
Tanner, obviously, and I supposed he could probably guess who I
was, but his focused gaze suggested he was searching our faces for
something more than our names. Suddenly the fact that he was a
priest and that we were two teenagers standing in front of a church
very early in the morning without our parents seemed to click and I
realized he was wondering what sin we were there to confess. Tanner
seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“Father Margulies, we aren’t here
to…confess anything. We just needed to talk to you about a, uh,
point of doctrine, I guess.” Father Margulies raised an eyebrow.
“We were only waiting for Arra’s grandfather to get here before we
came in,” Tanner said.

I was grateful to him for speaking up.
I was still tongue-tied with embarrassment.

“Alden Malo is your grandfather, isn’t
he?” Father Margulies asked. I nodded. “Why don’t you come on in.
Alden knows to come right in when he gets here. He and I have
visited many times.”

“You have?” I asked.

“Oh yes, many times. We do not often
see eye to eye on many points because of Alden’s strong aversion to
religion in general, but we do often speak of spiritual matters,”
he said. “Follow me inside and we can speak about whatever you
like.”

Tanner and I did follow him, but I
could not help glancing back before the door swung closed. Why was
my grandfather so hesitant to come speak with the priest if he had
done so plenty of times before? Would he not show up just because
he doesn’t like going to church? Anger had me tightening my hold on
Tanner’s hand. He only squeezed my hand in return. Grandpa would be
here soon, I told myself. He promised.

“So, Miss Arrabella Malo, what exactly
would you like to ask me?” Father Margulies asked after we were all
seated in his office. “Would it have anything to do with Aztec
gods?”

Apparently he and my grandpa had talked
quite a bit. “Yes, it does,” I said.

“What is your question?”

“Are they real? Can they really make
promises with people?”

Father Margulies seemed to be expecting
the question. “When is your birthday, Arrabella?”

“Today. I’m sixteen.”

He nodded as if expecting that as
well.

“Father, it seems that you know why
we’re here,” Tanner said. “Is any of this real?”

“Do you believe it is real?” the priest
asked Tanner.

“Yes, I do.”

Father Margulies nodded. I wondered
whether he was ever going to actually answer a question.

“I have met with Alden Malo several
times to discuss the reality of the curse he believes is on his
family. A few years ago I would have said that it was all a
delusion, but Alden has some very convincing evidence. I never knew
his sister Maera, but I knew Katie,” he said sadly. “I remember her
death. I remember the strangeness surrounding her passing very
well.”

“Do you believe the curse is real?
Tanner asked.

“I fear I have no choice but to
believe,” the priest said. He looked up at the door behind us.
Tanner and I followed his gaze. The door now stood open, my grandpa
holding it open with one hand. The other hand was stuffed in his
pocket. “Good morning, Alden,” Father Margulies said.

My grandpa’s eyes fell to me. They
looked tired and worn. He must not have gotten very much sleep last
night either.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” I said
quietly.

“Of course I was coming, it just took
me a little longer to get ready than I thought it would. I wanted
to give you something,” he said. Taking his hand out of his pocket
two thin strands of gold trailed after his fingers. One held a
simple locket, the other a small gem. “These belonged to Maera and
Katie. I wanted you to have them. I know that they would both want
to help you if they could.”

I let him slip the necklaces around my
neck. The warm metal pulsed against my skin. I imagined that I
could feel them placing their hands on me, lending me strength and
hope. “Thank you, Grandpa.”

He shuffled around me to an empty seat
and slumped into it. “So you’ve changed you mind, have you?” he
said. His comments were directed at the priest, but Father
Margulies gave his answer to me.

“Your grandfather has spent many years
trying to convince me of the curse on his family. He showed me all
the names and dates and pictures and told me the stories as well,”
he said. He turned back to my grandpa. “I never said I didn’t
believe you, Alden, you just didn’t like any of the explanations I
tried to offer. You assume I do not believe because I didn’t just
take everything you said at face value.”

“You tried to work my family’s history
into your church’s beliefs. That’s not why I came to you. I don’t
want to hear you talk about the devil or evil spirits or whatever
else you want to attribute this to. Those mean nothing to me,” my
grandpa said. The heat in his voice shocked me. My grandpa never
got angry. The only other emotion I’d ever seen him exhibit besides
his usual cheerfulness was sadness, never anger. And at a priest,
even.

“Then why did you come to me?” Father
Margulies asked.

“Because…because you know about these
kinds of things, dealing with gods and making promises. I wanted to
understand what had happened,” he said.

Now the priest turned back to me and
Tanner. “And why have you two come to me today? For the same
reason?”

Tanner and I glanced at each other.
“Not exactly,” I said. “My question is simple. How do we make it
stop?”

“Arrabella, if I knew the answer to
that question, you would be at home in your bed, not sitting here
in front of me,” he said.

I looked over at Tanner, my eyes
filling with tears. His hand was crushing mine and his eyes offered
a silent apology.

“There’s nothing left,” I whispered.
Tanner’s suggestion had offered me hope again. The religions were
miles apart, but there had to be enough similarities to give him
some idea of what a god would want with so many dead young women.
“Why is this happening?” I asked, looking up at the priest
again.

“Often one person’s choices affect much
more than they ever expect. Sometimes the results are wonderful,
and sometimes they are not,” he said.

“What would this god want with me? I
did nothing to deserve this. Why doesn’t he punish Kivera instead?”
I asked.

“I don’t know. Perhaps he thought
making her live with her decision would be more of a punishment
than taking her life. The reasoning behind what an Aztec god, real
or not, wants is probably beyond me, but I am familiar with other
vindictive powers in this world and such beings often simply want
to spread their misery as far as possible,” the priest
said.

“There has to be a way to stop this,”
Tanner said. “You must have some idea of what we can
do.”

Father Margulies leaned forward in his
chair, bringing his face close to mine. “The woman in the story was
punished for her selfishness. It may be that only an act of
selfless love and courage can break the chain.”

“What does that mean?” Tanner
asked.

The priest leaned back. “It is just a
thought, Tanner. I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything
more.”

Tanner stewed in his seat. He had such
hope in this idea. Failure streaked across his features, but I sat
calmly in my chair. I was glad we had come to visit Father
Margulies. Even though he had no prayer or exorcism that could free
me from this fate, his last words struck something inside of me. He
believed the chain of death could be broken if someone could just
figure out what it would take to do it.

Would I be the one? I had very little
faith that I would, but there was hope that someone would. If I
didn’t find that answer in the next few hours, maybe the next
person in this line of contrition would find a way. Maybe I would
at least be the last.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The dark mahogany wood was soft and
smooth, polished by countless hands gripping the pew in search of
comfort and guidance. My grandpa had wanted to leave, and even
Tanner had looked longingly toward the door, but I needed the peace
the chapel offered. Pacing in the foyer, my grandpa was wrestling
with his own ideas and dilemmas. Tanner, I had encouraged to take a
few minutes to speak with his priest.

I wasn’t Catholic and had no intentions
of becoming one, but I didn’t want to be the reason Tanner turned
away from his faith just because Father Margulies could not come up
with the answer my family had been searching for for centuries.
Hoping he would be able to reconcile his feelings, I let my head
fall down to the pew in front of me. I didn’t pray. I really didn’t
even know how to pray even if I wanted to. Sitting with my head
against the cool wood I closed my eyes and tried to picture
Katie.

My dad said that I would have liked
her. I wondered what she was thinking about when she woke up that
day. She didn’t know everything I knew, but the dreams alone would
have been enough to convince her of what lay ahead. Did she wake up
hoping that it was all a big joke, or did she open her eyes knowing
it would be the last time she did? Did she think about her family
and the things she would miss?

Picking my backpack up off the floor, I
settled it in my lap. I had brought it knowing deep down that I
would need it. I had packed the bag yesterday, before even
considering telling Tanner anything about this. I thought I would
wake up alone and slip out of the house to the meadow where I met
Tanner. I knew so few places in this town. In thinking of where to
spend the last few hours of my life, I had quickly decided on the
meadow. Amid terrifying dreams and legends it was the one place I
had been happy.

Wishing I could be there now, I
unzipped my backpack. The stationary my mother used was formal and
elegant. Pulling a thick sheet of paper out, I set it to the side.
The pen was somewhere in the bottom of the bag, but my fingers
found it with a quick sweep and pulled it out along with an old
school binder.

The crisp stationary made a soft whisk
as I settled it in place. Shaking too much to write, I tapped my
foot as I tried to draw the air into my lungs deeply enough to
settle my tremors. I needed to do this. I could not leave my dad
behind thinking he might have been responsible for yet another
death. Slowly feeling returned to my fingertips and the words began
to flow.

“Dear Mom and Dad,

“I don’t know when you will find this
letter, but I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I’m just sorry
I couldn’t do it in person.

“Mom, you may not understand any of
this, but I know you will, Dad.

“Mom, I love you so much. I love how
you tried so hard to protect me from the world. I’m sorry for all
the times I’ve tried your patience. Your gentle heart made you a
push over, but I never doubted for a second that you would be one
of those women who would be able to pull their child from a burning
building or give up your life to save a stranger. You were always
such a strength to me.

“Dad, you know I love you. I should
have told you more often. I want you to know that there was nothing
you could have done to stop this from happening. There was nothing
you could have done for Katie either. I understand what she went
through so much better now. I know that she doesn’t blame you
either and that she would want you to forgive yourself.

“When you are ready, go to Grandpa. He
can explain what happened. It won’t make it any less painful, but
it may be better than spending the rest of your life wondering if
you could have saved me.

“Please tell David that I love him too.
I will miss his constant teasing and his boundless energy. Tell him
that I will miss his smile and big brother hugs more than he can
ever know.

“I can’t tell you not to cry or feel
bad, because I know I wouldn’t be able to do that either. All that
I do ask is that you don’t forget me.

“I love you both so much.

“I’m sorry.

“Arra.”

The page was splattered with drops of
moisture, smearing the ink in more than one place, but I couldn’t
bear to recopy the words. Folding the sheet in thirds, I sealed it
in one of my mom’s envelopes and addressed it simply, “Mom and
Dad”.

Tucking the letter into my backpack I
knew my mom would find it eventually. It might take a while for her
to pack up my things, but she would when the pain eased up enough
to let her say goodbye. I just hoped it wouldn’t take too long. I
considered telling my grandpa about the letter so my parents would
find it as soon as possible but the sound of approaching steps
reached my ears before I made my decision.

Tanner slid in beside me and took my
hands in his. “How are you holding up?”

“Okay, I guess.” It was true,
surprisingly enough. I had questioned if knowing would be any help
at one point. I knew now that it did. For me, at least, it did. I
still regretted that I would not see David graduate from college,
or get to attend myself. I wished I would have been able to go to
the bonfire with Tanner tomorrow night. But in the end knowing
helped me to feel at least a little prepared. I knew what was
coming and I would face it no matter what the outcome
was.