Tuesday, September 3, 2013

PART 2, 1931-1933: THE FIRST EVIL: Chapter 36 (UNEDITED)

Here is Chapter 36.  As I said in the previous post, I'm going to try to post the rest of the first draft of Book 1 as quickly as possible.  Still Chapter by Chapter, but as quickly as possible :)

If you are just catching up, see the CHAPTERS section to read the Prologue-Chapter 35 before proceeding to the Chapter 36.

Also, check out some further character development in some excerpts from the second draft in the SAMPLES section. 

Otherwise, read from the word go :)  Alot beginning to happen so stay tuned :)




CHAPTER 36

Dorothy’s gaze was fixated on the phone and it was as though everything else around her had ceased to exist.  In that moment, all that mattered to her was that phone and what may come from just one phone call.  She thought about Carl and wondered what he was doing at that moment.  In any normal circumstances, he may be out somewhere with George, Evan, and possibly even Jimmy and Reginald would be with them if they weren’t already doing something with Linda and Gail.  But with the new town curfew, that wasn’t likely the case.
Dorothy closed her eyes.  For a quick moment, her mind seemed to leave her and travel the town.  A shimmering halo surrounded the picture she had.  She came to Carl’s house.  Dorothy could see her boyfriend sitting outside on his back porch smoking a cigarette and seeming to be very deep in thought.  Suddenly, Dorothy felt herself being pulled back and she opened her eyes back up with a start.  She sat at her desk breathing heavily.
Did I really see Carl just now or did I just imagine him as I think he would be?
Dorothy recalled Tahatan and his experience before he, her father, and Father Louis disappeared.  He had left his body and traveled somewhere else; that much had been apparent.  Dorothy knew that such abilities were not uncommon in the Obijwe-Sioux parts of her family but it was stressed that such things were not to be taken lightly if one should discover that he or she may possess such a gift.
Dorothy absently picked up her pen and began to write:
I felt like I was traveling…I know I did…and at the cemetery and then when I passed out in the washroom.  I know I didn’t just black out…but where did I go if I had left my body then?  And does this have anything to do with the disappearance of Willow?  And even that little gypsy boy I saw…and those two little demon children that attacked me on the Fleming property.
Dorothy turned the pages back to her notes on The Child with the Black Eyes and the passages Lawrence had written of on sleep and dreaming.  She had read of such things in the works of Poe and Lovecraft and she also knew that Lawrence Livingston had written several published essays on the dreamworld and even touched a little on demonology.  Dorothy shuddered at the idea of the latter.  She knew a little about the spirit world from her Catholic upbringing and Sioux-Ojibwe heritage.  The small amount she did know of demons was all she wanted to know.  She did find the parts about the dreamscape and some spirit travel in the Native American lore fascinating, but there was something about delving into the realm of the Fallen that made her nauseous to the point of wanting to vomit up every last content of her stomach before lying down on the floor drenched in a cold sweat.
Dorothy began to wonder if perhaps she just might have to enter a realm she had wanted to avoid.  Lawrence Livingston’s essays were also available at the library and Dorothy began to think on making a trip there as soon as she was able.
Or I can just call Carl right now and ask him to take me away from it all…
Dorothy’s thoughts where interrupted with a light tapping at her bedroom door.
“Yes?” Dorothy called tenatively, praying that her Grandma Whitman wasn’t on the other side.
“It’s only me, dear.”
Dorothy let out a relieved sigh at the sound of her Grandma Violet’s voice.
“Come in, grandma,” Dorothy said closing up her notebook.
The door opened and Violet Blake entered the room.  Violet was a woman in her sixties with gray hair that had once been a light brown.  Her light green eyes still had a youthful sparkle to them and while she may not have had access to all of the expensive anti-aging creams that Alice had, Violet’s complexion had barely a wrinkle.  Violet Hyland-Blake had been a striking beauty when she was younger and there were the photographs to confirm that.  Now in her old age, while she was still beautiful, she now carried a wisdom with that had replaced the girlish innocence of her younger years.
Dorothy could see the look of concern in her grandmother’s eyes as she shut the bedroom door.
“How do you feel, dear?” Violet asked.
Dorothy sighed.  “Alright, I guess.”
Violet sat down on the bed across from her granddaughter.  “You’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry you had to witness that spectacle at supper.  Your grandpa Gerard actually feels badly that he lost it with Alice in front of you.”
“Well everything he said was right,” Dorothy said.  “Grandma Whitman had no right to say those things.  Nothing’s ever right with her.  Even Grandpa Cyril.”
“To say she’s frustrating is an understatement, yes,” Violet said.  “But we all must remember that she too is going through the ordeal of having her child missing.”  Violet paused before continuing.  “Your grandfather Gerard is having quite a difficult time.”
Dorothy looked at her grandmother’s eyes.  Violet didn’t need to go any further than that as everyone in the family knew the story or at least part of it.
Gerard had only been five when he lost his grandfather Charles to falling from a roof.  Then two years later, his baby sister Willow disappeared and shortly after, his grandfather Howahkan died in his sleep.  Then there was Gerard’s first wife, Alicia, who died shortly after Joe was born.  It was two years after that he had met Violet.
Violet’s thoughts turned to her husband whom she had left downstairs in the sitting room.  Of course, there was much more to everything than what appeared on the surface when it came to the deaths and disappearances in the family and Gerard’s parents had also known that.  At the time, Jonathan and Kimimela had both tried to put on a strong exterior for their remaining children.  But Gerard had been as observant a child as his father had been.  Gerard’s older brother, Chaska, who was eleven at the time, also shared that trait.  Though they didn’t quite understand it as children, Chaska and Gerard could see the darkness threatening to overcome their mother and the fear their father had of such a thing occuring.  The two brothers could see that their father was very much aware that Kimimela was on the verge of being lost to him and the helplessness he was feeling of being unable to protect his wife.  There had been many nights when their grandmother Emma had come to the house.  On one of those particular nights, Chaska and Gerard had gotten out of bed and crept down the hall, passed the master bedroom where their mother lay sleeping (they had seen their father putting their very distressed mother to bed earlier as he tried his best to sooth her) and down to the study where their grandmother and father had sat talking in hushed voices behind a closed door.
From what Chaska and Gerard were able to hear, Jonathan was clearly upset and on the verge of tears as Emma worked at consoling him.  Chaska and Gerard had only been able to catch part of the conversation.

“I honestly don’t think I would be able to handle it if I lost her,” Jonathan said.  “If anything would break me to the point of no return, that would be it.  I’ve barely gotten through what happened to our little Willow…”
“Jonathan,” Emma said, “you need to have faith and stay strong.  Kimimela needs you.  Your children need you.  Trust me.  I grieved tremendously for your father and I still do.  But I keep going.  Why?  Because your father would never have wanted me to give up and I still have you children and the grandchildren here.  I have family and friends here.  I still have a life here that I need to live before I can go be with your father.”
“I feel like I’ve failed them.  As a husband and father I’m failing horribly,” Jonathan practically sobbed.
“Son, I know you’re going through a trying time and that does not mean you are a failure.  Nobody has it good all the time,” Emma said.  “I’ve seen you with Kimimela and the children enough to know that you are a wonderful husband and father.”
“I love her so much, mum.  I just want to keep her and our children safe.”
“I know.”
“There’s so much dark that’s surrounding us now.  I can feel it.  I can see it trying to take her!  There have been times recently where she hardly even seems like herself.  Sometimes she looks at me…it’s as though she doesn’t even recognize who I am!”
Emma paused before saying, “I can see that too.  But that’s why you must strengthen your faith and do what you promised Howahkan.  That you would look out for his daughter and love and cherish her.  Marriage is for better or for worse and you made those vows to Kimimela when you married her.  Of course I pray every night for you two and the children.  But maybe it would work better if you stopped wallowing in your own self-pity and did some praying yourself.”

As children, the idea of something dark trying to take their mother frightened and confused Chaska and Gerard.  They wondered if the dark thing their father and grandmother mentioned had anything to do with what happened to Willow.  And what of their grandfathers Charles and Howahkan?  As Gerard grew, he had developed a deeper understanding of what the dark things were, especially when his uncle Sunkwa would later leave his body on a spiritual quest and never return.
Violet knew that her husband had specific fears of what might have happened to Matthew, Liz, and Tahatan.  He didn’t even need to voice it to her.  After nearly fifty years of marriage, she knew her husband well enough to be able to see such things.  Gerard had also heard the descriptions of the creature that had attacked Dorothy.  He had then compared it to the thing Matthew had said attacked him in their barn thirty years ago.  While it wasn’t exactly like what had attacked Matthew as a boy, there were definitely similarities.  At the time of a young Matthew’s attack, Gerard had wanted to believe that it was simply some rogue, wild animal that had somehow gotten into the barn.  But when he had gone out to the barn with his shotgun (as Violet consoled their near hysterical son), all he had to do was step inside to understand that wasn’t the case.  Though it was gone by the time Gerard had gotten out there, the essence of it had lingered.  It was the thing that had nearly taken his mother and Gerard felt it again in the house of his youngest son and family.  Then there was also Dorothy’s outburst at dinner…
“Grandma?”
Violet turned back to see her granddaugther’s inquisitive eyes.  She gave Dorothy a smile and said, “I’m alright, dear.  You know our family has been through quite a lot over the years.”
Dorothy nodded.
“And no matter what Alice says,” Violet continued, “I think you’ve found yourself a nice young man in Carl.  Even your parents think so based on what they’ve told your grandfather and me.”  Violet ended her sentence by closing her eyes at the thought of her missing son, daughter-in-law, and nephew.  Dorothy felt a touch of sadness fill her as Violet opened her eyes and regarded her granddaughter again.
“Thank you,” Dorothy said.  “That means a lot.  I do love Carl.  Very much.”
“I can tell he feels the same way about you,” Violet said.  “I’ve been around long enough to be able to see things like that.”
“Well I’m glad at least you can see it,” Dorothy replied.
“Your grandpa Gerard does too.  He has a very high opinion of Carl.  Though don’t tell him I told you that.  I think he wants Carl to sweat things out just a little longer.”
Dorothy smiled at her grandmother before growing serious at the thought she was having.  “Grandma…what do you think is going on with our family?  It seems to span at least back to Jonathan and Kimimela.”
Violet looked intently at her granddaughter and said, “I’m not sure.  I just know it isn’t good.”
Dorothy then drew in a breath and asked, “Why do think…that happened at dinner I got angry with Grandma Alice?  It happened before too.  Right before my parents, Tahatan, and Father Louis disappeared…I got angry and snapped at my mother.  I still feel horrible about it.  But when it happened…that brush slid from the dresser onto the floor.”  Dorothy pointed to the brush that now sat on her dressing table.
Violet’s eyes widened and then her face grew solemn.
“Please, tell me,” Dorothy begged.  “I know my great grandmother Kimimela went through a dark spiritual time, as some family members put it.  What happened?  Was it anything like what is happening to me?”
Violet sighed and shook her head.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to talk to your grandfather about it.  While his parents were truly wonderful people, those aren’t memories he likes to revisit so I can’t promise enthusiasm on his end to discuss it.  But, I think if you explain to him what you have been going through…I think he’ll be willing to tell you at least some of it.  Especially if you stress on how important it is that you know for your own well-being.”
“Thanks grandma,” Dorothy said.  “Maybe I’ll talk to him in the morning.  Would that be best?”
“That would be, yes,” Violet said.  “Your grandfather is pretty drained right now after what happened at dinner.”
Dorothy nodded.  “Okay.  I want to do some more research of my own anyway.  He’s not angry with me, is he?”
Violet drew in a breath.  “No.  But he is worried.  Very worried.”
“What do you think of all this, grandma?”
“I think…that there are things of this world that aren’t able to be explained or comprehended by the human mind.  I think there is evil and dark spirits that influence such evil.”
Dorothy could see how troubled her grandmother was and decided not to press the issue with her further.  At least for that time being.  Dorothy looked back down at her desk where her notes were.
“I think I’m going to finish up something I was working on,” Dorothy said.
“Alright,” Violet said with a faint smile.  “Remember if you need anything, your grandpa Gerard and I are right down the hall.”
“Thank you,” Dorothy said.
Violet gently hugged her granddaughter.  “Goodnight, dear.”
“Goodnight grandma.  And thank you again.”
After Violet left the room, Dorothy turned back to her desk and looked over what she had just written.  She knew that trying to do anymore schoolwork would be futile at this point.  She picked up the small packet of Tahatan’s notes and findings.  Then she looked to Maxine’s diary and shuddered at the site of it.
Dorothy re-opened the notebook with what she had written down on Alexandrescu Castle, the Fleming Orphanage, and Lawrence Livingston’s writings.  She knew from reading some of his essays that Lawrence came to want to study the dreamscape realm at the age of fourteen after having a disturbing dream of his father.  What had been even more disturbing than the dream itself was that all but the dream’s ending mirrored what had been happening at the moment Lawrence was having the dream.  In the dream before waking, Lawrence had seen his father James killed by a black eyed child.  It would be until a later essay that the child would be revealed as Nathaniel Fleming—who had been already deceased at the time—or at least something that resumed his image.  The incident had posed many questions for a young Lawrence.  Had he simply been dreaming with the entire thing in his head or had he actually left his body and saw an alternate ending of what could have happened to his father.  Had the dream been a warning?  After James Livingston had passed away, Lawrence revealed in another essay that his father had been about to answer the door when he had stopped him just in time.  Even James was mystified and amazed by the entire event as he had written in his own journal toward the end of his life.
Dorothy looked down at the passages she had highlighted from Lawrence Livingston’s The Child with the Black Eyes.  Everything Lawrence had written of seemed to be of a person’s senses being heightened when they reached a certain state.  He questioned whether a person deemed insane truly was insane or if their sense had just been heightened to be able to see another reality that everyone else could not.  What would truly happened if we allowed our brains to be completely turned on instead of only using portions of it?  What would we see or hear?  Lawrence also wrote of the possibilities of veils and portals that may allow for passage to other dimensions, realms, and even time periods.  Dorothy then recalled a quote made by her great great grandfather Howahkan.
‘Sleep is probably the closest to a physical death as one can get.’
Dorothy shuddered as every possibility of what could occur should that quote have truth to it, particularly in her case.  She turned back to her notes on The Child with the Black Eyes and remembered the two black-eyed children and also remembered Lawrence’s account of a black-eyed Nathaniel.
Who or what are these children?  Dorothy thought?  Demons?  Some sort of manifestation?  Or something from another world altogether that isn’t yet accounted for?  They said Maxine was crazy.  Was she?  Or did she just have her senses heightened to where she could see things other people couldn’t?  Maybe she really did see her deceased brother the night Jared was killed…
Dorothy then turned in her History textbook to the section on the Alexandrescus.  She sat recalling Linda’s claim of someone who looked identical to Anton selling her the dagger and the rest of the strange things that had occurred for her friend on the trip to Maine.  Dorothy then thought of Carl’s observation of the St. Michael statue that guarded the Fleming burial site.  While the Alexandrescus are interred at St. Michael’s Cathedral in Romania
Dorothy still considered that it could be a mere coincidence.  After all, in what way could the Flemings and the Alexandrescus possibly be connected?
Then something else occurred to Dorothy.
“In almost every dream I’ve had where I’ve been at Alexandrescu Castle, I somehow end up back at the Fleming property or vice versa…” she said to herself.  “And the gypsy boy I keep seeing there…”
Dorothy skimmed down the passage in her textbook on the Alexandrescu family stopping at the part that mentioned Dmitri’s death.  The passage glossed over it, only mentioning that the nineteen year old heir had been killed by one of their Rom or “gypsy” slaves.  The words of the little boy came back to her:  “I can’t find my brother.”
It jogged her memory of a few more obscure articles blatantly told of the male gypsy slave deeply slicing Dmitri’s throat to the point of nearly decapitating him.
“Dmitri must have done something really rotten to him,” Dorothy said dryly as she turned a page in her notebook and wrote down what she had just recalled.  From what she read on the Alexandrescu’s cruelty to their slaves, such a notion didn’t surprise her at all.
A lot of sources didn’t go into any detail of the gypsy who had committed the act, but there was one that Dorothy had read about a year ago that even had stated the young gypsy man’s name, though she could remember the name given at that moment.  But she did remember that the article had stated that the young man had been a slave of the Alexanderescu family since the age of 8 until age 19 when he would brake into the castle and murder Dimitri in his sleep.
Dorothy had also never been able to find any sources that explained why the young gypsy man had committed the act.  Surely there had to have been a good reason for such a heinous crime…at least one would think.  Most explanations offered simply put the young gypsy slave as being a murderous madman and while Dmitri’s father had put a handsome price on his head, the young gypsy man had never been caught.
“If I could only remember what that article said his name was!  Maybe I can even somehow help that little boy.”
Dorothy sighed and threw her pen down on top of the notebook page she had been writing on.  She took a short break to massage her temples.  She looked over at the still closed diary that Maxine Fleming once wrote in along with Tahatan’s notes.  She picked up the small stack with Tahatan’s handwriting.  What she saw at the top of the stack made her heart nearly stop.
Tahatan had labeled the top of the paper Blueprints for the Fleming Orphanage.  Dorothy continued to read.
There is something terribly not right about the Fleming property and the way it is built and set up.  It is very subtle in the blueprint, and one may not even notice it unless he or she were looking.  But there is reason to believe that the Fleming property is not what it appears to be at all.  Meaning that it is actually much larger than what we can see of its’ exterior.  Even James Livingston expressed his own suspicions on this in his writings.  The more one looks at that particular blueprint, the more it appears that there is a lower level somewhere on the property, possibly beginning at the main building.  It seems to stretch out for miles and doesn’t seem to have an end, at least from what I can see.
Where does it lead?  How did it get there?  Cedric Fleming was the one who put that blueprint together.  Apparantely he seemed to know something that everyone else, even potentially James Livingston, missed.  Why would James seem suspicious of it if there was nothing to worry about?  Are there connections between that lower level and all of their deaths?
The town lore states that the property could be on a hellmouth or some veil or vortex that leads to another dimension.  Well, there may be truth to the lore and sightings as I saw this morning, with Father Louis of Our Lady of Fatima Church as a witness, something over the stream in the woods conjoining the property that did NOT appear to be normal fog or mist.  In my own spiritual teachings and life experiences, I do believe in other planes and worlds with other beings that may be beyond human comprehension.
Dorothy stopped reading and turned to the next page.
Following her ended affair with Christian Andrews, Maxine writings in her diary were very limited.  But the one entry that she did write was about how she would take to the lower level for comfort (so it is true).  She wrote of a labyrinth that began beneath the main building and didn’t seem to have an end to it.  She never mentioned how it was there (at least from what I can see right now…that may change later) but she mentioned a young man she would meet up with down there and have relations with.  She simply called him Pierre and gave no real description of him other than the fact that she found him to be very handsome.  I wonder why she wouldn’t even describe him in her own diary.  Perhaps it could have been while she was carrying on a secret long distance romance with her cousin Jared.  But Jared wasn’t around to view it…so why even the secrecy there?  Maxine also mentioned someone from down in the labyrinth she called Lila but there was no other elaboration beyond that.  After that, there is a large time gap in her diary up until after the deaths of her parents and her relationship with Jared came into full bloom.  I have reason to believe that Maxine knew more about her parents’ deaths than she let on.  And then there’s the part about the child she had with Jared…
Dorothy stopped reading at the mention of a child that Maxine had had with Jared.
“There was never any mention of that before…”
Her heart pounded at the new find as she slowly reached for Maxine’s diary.
I have to see this in Maxine’s own handwriting.
Dorothy carefully opened it and turned passed the page with Maxine’s inscription to the first entry.  Sure enough, it was all about Christian Andrews and their affair.  Maxine wrote of their secret meetings around town and on her parents’ property.  In some ways, Dorothy felt sorry for her as Maxine seemed like a woman who was genuinely in love.  Then came the entries that described them being together in ‘the married way’ with a great amount of detail but even those had a sweetness to them.  Some of them actually made her think about Carl and anticipating being with him that way sometime in the not too far off future.
Dorothy paged through the rest of the ‘Christian Andrews’ entries, skimming them for any potentially useful information.  There were a couple entries where a distressed Maxine had written of her mother’s disapproval of the relationship with Christian and Dorothy could tell from the manner in which Maxine wrote that Margaret’s disapproval upset Maxine terribly.  Then came the inevitable of Maxine’s pregnancy and how she and Christian had been forced to end their relationship.  She had been sent to live with her relatives who also happened to be the parents of her cousin Jared.  Despite the fact that he had a ladyfriend, Jared was taken by Maxine and the two of them had actually been together a couple times during Maxine’s stay there.  Dorothy got the impression that at that time, Maxine had been vulnerable and was simply looking for love somewhere.
Then Maxine delivered her baby, a little boy.  Dorothy read of her sorrow of giving the baby up and how she wasn’t allowed to even see Christian one last time as they gave the child to Christian and his wife before the Andrews would move up to Vermont.
I’ve truly lost all I’ve ever wanted in this world.  I wonder if he will ever think about me the way I will of him.  For always, Maxine had written.  And that had been her last entry for about a year until came the odd entry about the underground labyrinth, Pierre, and Lila.
But then there was something that made Dorothy’s blood run cold.
Father and mother finally paid.  It was a one sentence entry that was made after the deaths of Cedric and Margaret and there was nothing further.
Dorothy took in a breath and tried to keep her hand from shaking as she turned the page.  Then came the Jared Fleming entries.  And Dorothy noticed a difference between the manner in which Maxine had written of Christian and Jared.  While Maxine had been candid about her and Christian, it was almost beautiful and poetic to read.  When it came to her time with Jared, it was as though Maxine had become a completely different woman.  She was vulgar, crass, and used the word ‘fuck’ to describe her and Jared being together more times than Dorothy cared to see.
I suppose considering all the things that happened to her…people can change after one of more traumatic events…
There were some other strange writings about how she and Jared met up with Pierre and Lila down in the labyrinth.
“Who in the world are Pierre and Lila?” Dorothy wondered aloud beginning to feel very frustrated.
Then she finally came to the entries about her pregnancy to Jared, paging through a lot of it as there wasn’t really anything she hadn’t already read.  They had managed to keep the pregnancy a secret.  They made up an excuse about going to stay with a sick relative and left for four months when Maxine began to show.  They stayed with the family that would be adopting the baby, and paying Jared and Maxine well for it.
The couple lived upstate and were quite wealthy but unable to conceive a child.  Maxine wrote of the Singletons.
Dorothy stopped short at the name but continued reading, getting to Maxine mentioning Hugh and Melinda Singleton and how wonderful they were.
Dorothy’s heart lurched into her throat.  Hugh and Melinda Singelton?  Who live in upstate New York?

Dorothy’s heart pounded as she slowly paged through the diary, taking care not to miss a single word.  Then came Maxine’s recount of giving birth to a baby girl on July 20, 1866.  Hugh and Melinda had named her Alice Rosalyn Singleton.

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