“Mrs. Horton, I suppose.” She just smiled and walked into the room, bringing a feeling of warmth and calmness with her. The wind seemed to have lessened, and even the rain against the windows sounded different. I looked up at her as she stood in front of me before taking a seat on the sofa across from me.
“Hello, young man. Are you ready to hear your destiny?”
NICK
I could’ve told this woman in so many ways to get bent. In fact, it was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I had no interest in her hocus pocus bullshit, that I was pissed that she’d conned my grandfather into believing this bullshit, but somehow the thoughts just flew out of my head on gossamer wings.
My heart beat sickeningly quick in my chest and knocked against my ribs as the air around me felt heavier and heavier. I stared back at the old woman who seemed to be waiting for me to give her the go-ahead. I nodded, even though I wanted nothing more than to throw her out in the rain.
I needed to find Ellie and hear her version of this madness. It’s obvious she’d fallen for it, whatever it was. Did she lose time the same way I did? Or was she aware the whole time while I was the only one left in the dark? Before I could open my mouth to say anything one way or another, the old woman spoke.
“I can see you’re still having a hard time believing. Hal did say you would be my toughest project. I’m assuming he’s tried explaining things to you in there.” She pointed towards the letter I still held in my hand.
“Are you the one who sold him on this? What were you after, money? How much did you take him for?”
I was starting to get angry now because now that I wasn’t reading this fantasy story, my head was becoming clear again, and I knew that this was nothing more than a con and elaborate scheme that had hoodwinked even someone as intelligent as gramps. I felt sorrow and anger that this charlatan had used his lost love against him in his final days and had to fight back the tears that threatened.
She smiled, not the least bit offended by my words, and something in that smile coiled itself around me. I could almost hear gramps in my head urging me to listen, to believe, but how could I? “Have you noticed strange things happening at night? Have you been waking up and not remembering what happened the night before but knowing that something definitely had?”
I didn’t respond since she already seemed to know the answer to that. “It’s not your imagination, and it’s not just a dream, as I’m sure you know by now.”
“Why are you here?” If she thought for a second I was going to buy into her psychosis; she was dead wrong. Gramps may have fallen for this because he was vulnerable. Maybe he and Ellie had shared some kind of hysteria together after her aunt died, and that allowed this one to swoop in and fill their heads with her ghost stories…
She looked at me as if she could read my thoughts, and for some inexplicable reason, I found myself feeling ashamed of them. That didn’t stop me from lashing out at her, though. “What is it that you came to say? Spit it out and then leave. If I find out that you hosed my grandfather out of any money, I’ll make you wish you two had never met.”
“This is not about money, young man. Money is just worldly strappings that have no meaning in the afterlife. I’m just here to tell you what would happen if you ignored everything you’ve experienced since coming home. I can’t make you believe anything; that is up to you. I’m sure your grandfather explained as best he could, but if you still don’t believe him, then I don’t expect that you’d believe my words either.”
“I just want you to think about all the things you’ve seen and experienced here with Ellie.” My mind immediately went to the video of us in bed, and those feelings of lust and want rose up inside me. Then another thought struck and brought me to the edge of my seat. “Did you drug us? Or is there some sort of manipulation? How did you do it?”
“Nothing like that; I have very little to do with it, in fact. I just happen to be the one who found the book of spells that had been buried for a few hundred years at least.” She reached into the bag I only now noticed and pulled out an old leather book no bigger than a diary. It looked authentically old and worn, and a less deciphering person might have bought it, but I wasn’t sold.