Leyla's Locket

Rainbow - Chapter Two

Leyla's Locket
Chapter Two
Paige Jackson

Two days later three tired, dusty, irritable Ulric's got their first glimpse of Santa Angela, Texas. Galen pulled the van over at the top of a small incline and they all got out to take a look at the town. It stretched out for miles, flat as far as the eye could see except for a few small hills.

There were plenty of trees, but none of them were very tall. The city looked like a grid spread out, streets neatly running up and down, left and right. A highway ran along the outskirts of town in a large circle. Off in the distance Sera saw the shimmer of light reflecting off water, a lake or a very large pond. Cactus dotted the landscape and as she watched a tumble-weed bounced past.

Seraphinus turned to her father, wide-eyed, "It’s like something out of a movie. Daddy, how big is this place? It goes on forever!"

Galen grinned down at his daughter, "Don't let that fool you, Punkin'."

Her dad didn't notice Sera's involuntary wince at the use of his pet name for her. Oblivious to her eye rolling as well, Galen continued, "The reason it looks so big is because the land is flat and open in this part of Texas. Instead of building up, as they do in other places, they build out. Look around Sera, there are only four buildings higher than three stories. There are also only five hills, and our house is right next to one. We should be able to see it from here. There it is, towards the west."

Sera’s eyes followed her father's pointing finger. The hill was not hard to find, as it was the only one in that section of town. She was able to make out some tall trees surrounding the outline of a 2-story house. Her pulse quickened and she became aware of a low vibrating sound. Heat welled up from her neck, flushing her cheeks, as the sound grew louder.

Suddenly she realized the sound was coming from her - she was humming, loudly, a tune she had never heard before. Her parents were staring at her and her mother had actually started towards her before she could pull herself together.

She stretched her mouth into what she hoped was a winning smile. "Let's get going, I can't wait to see the house!"

Her parents relaxed and they all squished themselves back into the van to head into town. Sera pressed her face against the window in the back seat, staring intently at the house on the hill. She watched it thoughtfully until they reached the bottom of the rise and it was blocked from view. The unknown tune continued to echo through her head.

***

Cressida was so immersed in the volume she was reading that it took quite some time for the persistent noise to register. She raised her head, eyes blinking owlishly from studying the pages before her for so long. With a start she realized she was the one making the sound. She had been humming, a song she hadn’t heard in years. It was a song her father used to sing to her when she’d had a bad dream, or was having trouble going to sleep. Without realizing she meant to do it, she found herself softly singing the chorus:

There’s a change in the wind
Don’t know if it’s good or bad
Gonna be a topsy-turvy world
And it might make you sad
But baby don’t you worry
Whatever comes your way
I’ll be right there beside you
Yeah, I am here to stay

Voice breaking, she sang the last line of the chorus again as tears welled in her eyes. She closed the book with a snap and walked over to the window seat. Staring out the window, lost in the ache of memories past, time slipped by with no awareness.

Cressida was brought back to the present by the thousands of needles jabbing through the leg curled beneath her. The silly limb had gone to sleep! She was furious that something as mundane as her leg was able to pull her from her memories so easily. It just seemed so . . . well . . . blasphemous.

Cressida pondered this as she meandered around in a circle, tenderly putting weight on the leg in an effort to quell the needles. She felt a pang in her heart as she remembered one of her father’s lectures.

“Cressida honey, no matter how melancholy or depressed you might become, the real world has a way of breaking right on in. Bills still need to be paid, plants tended, and clothes mended. They don’t pay any attention to how devastated we think we are and the world just keeps on spinning. It’s those ordinary, dreary, every-day things that keep us going. Sooner or later, we’re not just going through the motions anymore. We begin to live again, and to heal. It is nature’s way of keeping us balanced.”

At the time Cressida had shrugged off this lecture, smiling and nodding at her dad while thinking it was the craziest thing she’d ever heard. Now that she truly understood, it was too late. Aware that she was about to drift off into gloominess again Cressida gave herself a mental shake.

“Enough of that woman, you’ve too much to do to be sitting here spending all this time with ghosts. Keep this up and what the townsfolk say will become true. You’ll be nothing but a lonely old witch, who sits in her house all day staring at the walls and talking to herself.”

At this last Cressida’s eyes popped wide in surprise, and before she could stop it she found herself laughing so hard her stomach cramped up. “Oops, I guess it’s too late for that one!”

“As beautiful as your laugh is, that snort at the end is the most precious thing I’ve ever heard.”

The man’s voice, dripping with amusement, rang across the room, startling Cressida so badly she dropped the book she was holding on her foot.

“Weldon!?! You scared the mess out of me. You really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

Cressida was trying hard to scold her mentor, but the effect was quite ruined by the fact that she was hopping up and down in place, holding tightly to her foot.

She eyed the male leaning casually against the door frame, one hand stuffed into the front pocket of his faded jeans. He was wearing one of her favorite shirts, a dusty blue denim button-up that matched the color of his eyes perfectly. His sandy-blonde hair had grown a little long of late, and between the seemingly never-ending Texas wind and his nervous habit of running one hand through it, he now had a constantly tousled look.

There was no question that Weldon Ward was a good-looking man. Add in the fact that he was honest, compassionate, and caring and Cressida had a hard time understanding why no woman had snatched him up already. That thought brought a sudden, unexpected pain. Deciding it was a remnant of her previous mood; Cressida ignored it and crossed the room to stand beside him.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see that you were dwelling in the past again. Why do you do that to yourself? There was nothing you could have done to prevent the attack. I just hate to see you looking so wounded.”

“Oh Weldon, I know I couldn’t have stopped the attack, but the fact that they never caught the Dark One weighs heavy on my heart. And I wasn’t dwelling in the past; I was visiting memories of my family. It’s all I have left of them. Besides, how many times have you told me not to forget the past and that by not paying attention to what has been done before I doom myself to repeating those mistakes?”

Weldon sighed and pulled her into a hug. “I really hate it when you use my own words against me.”

Cressida peeked up at him through a curtain of hair, “Haven’t you learned by now that women can recite almost any conversation from memory? It’s an inherent talent.”

Weldon laughed a deep, throaty chuckle that filled the room. He held Cressida at arm’s length. “Feisty little filly. Quit giving this old man a hard time and offer me some coffee already.” The two headed down the hall, arms entwined, their laughter echoing through the house.

Once in the kitchen, Cressida busied herself at the coffee pot while Weldon settled back at the kitchen table. He took the opportunity to study her while she worked. The gray circles under her eyes, along with the fact that her clothes were hanging loosely on her from a recent weight loss, were the only signs of the stress she was under. All he wanted was to protect her and he cursed the fact that he was about to add to her load. It couldn’t be helped; it was far more dangerous to keep her in the dark.

Cressida took a seat across the table from him to wait for the coffee to brew. The conversation began innocently enough with Weldon asking if she had read the latest copy of Texas Witch Weekly. She looked at him curiously, for normally he made endless fun of the Witch News Network she subscribed to. She answered him warily; sure there was a joke to come.

“It came in yesterday, but I haven’t had a chance to read it thoroughly yet. All I’ve done is skim the headlines.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, causing the front part to shoot in every direction before settling back into a semblance of normality.

“Will you get it? I’d like for us to read it, together.”

At this Cressida’s jaw dropped open. Weldon had never had any use for, as he called them “the Witchly Wonderings”. In fact, he made fun of her constantly for subscribing to so many; even though he knew she read them in hopes of information on the Rainbow Quest, or news of the Dark One.

Weldon himself was a Latent: a human filled with magical energy, but incapable of working even the simplest spell. Although unable to work any external magic, Latents possessed an awesome defensive power which left them immune to most spells. Because of this they were often much sought after as bodyguards for the wealthier witches and wizards.

While she ran back upstairs to fetch the newspaper, he prepared two cups of coffee. He made sure to add 3 sugar cubes and a healthy dose of creamer to hers, giving it the color of liquid caramel.

“Looks more like pudding than coffee,” he muttered, as he set the cups on the table.

“The rule is that if you make it, you can’t gripe about it – so shush with all the grumbling,” she grinned as she came back into the room.

They settled down on the bench in the breakfast nook, with the full sunlight from the window streaming in behind them and spotlighting the small table. Cressida spread the paper wide and then looked quizzically at Weldon.

“What am I looking for?”

Weldon flipped to the second page, where the death notices were posted, and silently pointed to two of them.

Cressida gasped as she recognized the names. A deep line appeared across her brow as she pulled the paper closer and silently read the two notices. Finally she laid the paper back down and looked up at Weldon, worry lines now creasing her entire face.

“Gladys Ripplewater, deadly snake bite and Doris Dalhopper, a bee sting that turned fatal due to severe allergic reaction. Oh hell Weldon, is it just a coincidence? I saw both of them a few weeks ago. Doris helped steer me to the scroll in Oklahoma. I just talked to her last week.”

Instead of answering, Weldon just flipped further towards the back of the paper and pointed at a small article. Cressida, filled with foreboding, pulled the paper back again and read the small headline and article:

Prominent Member of Council Goes Missing

Authorities are mystified by the recent disappearance of Carlos Siendez, a long-time member of the Texas State Magic Council. Carlos was expected at a seminar in Los Playas this past weekend, but never arrived. Authorities were called when Mr. Siendez failed to appear at work on Monday.

The preliminary investigation shows no signs of foul play. There was no sign of a struggle at his home, and testing showed no evidence of recent magical surges either at his home or on his property. Investigators are treating this case as a criminal investigation until evidence proves otherwise. Anyone with any information as to the whereabouts of . . .

Cressida looked up, her face pale. “There goes the coincidence theory. Carlos called me last week to tell me he’d found something that might interest me. We were supposed to meet this weekend.” Her voice trailed off as a rumbling in the distance captured her attention. She got up from the nook and walked over to the patio that overlooked College Street.

From her house on the hill she had a kingly view of the entire street and the occupants. She squinted against the sunlight just as the bright green moving truck came into view. Weldon stood behind her, and the two of them watched the truck and the van behind it amble up the street until they reached the house next door. The screech of brakes and rush of air told them the procession had reached its destination.

Three burly men climbed out as the fourth started navigating the truck into the driveway. The van parked on the street, and as it stopped the doors opened and out fell two adults and a young girl. It didn’t take a leap of genius to decipher that these were her new neighbors.

The father was in his mid-forties, tall and lanky, with a shock of brown hair that was rapidly turning gray. He was so thin he looked awkward when he moved. His wife looked to be in her early thirties, with bright red curly hair cut into a bob.

The girl had evidently inherited her father’s shape; for she was so lanky she appeared to be all limbs. Her hair, on the other hand, definitely came from her mother, bright red with curls that bounced down to the middle of her back. She had round glasses perched on her nose and was standing on the walk with her hands on her hips, critically eyeing her new abode. Her mother had headed indoors, presumably to direct the flow of traffic as the men began unloading the truck. Her father stood by the truck, keeping close watch over their possessions. He turned to the girl with a wide, open smile on his face and called to her.

“Sera come here and help me, please.”

The girl drug her feet across the barren dirt of the front yard, sending up puffs of dust with each step. Her father draped his arm across the girl’s shoulder and talked to her for a few minutes. Evidently it was a good talk because the girl took off for the front door with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. Her father watched her flight, a look of concentration on his face, then shrugged and turned his attention back to the truck.

After a moment he looked up and noticed Cressida and Weldon at the window. His face lit up with a grin and he waved wildly at the pair. Cressida found herself returning both the grin and the wave, and sensed Weldon doing the same behind her. This seemed to break the spell, and she and Weldon returned to the nook and their previous conversation.

***

Sera peered between the two front seats trying to see the view ahead, but couldn’t see anything that way except the green truck in front of them. In spite of herself she felt the familiar thrill of excitement from being in a new place. As hard as it was to adjust each time they moved, it was also rather uplifting in a strange way. It didn’t matter too much if she had a hard time making friends, did something publicly embarrassing, or just plain didn’t fit in because she knew she wouldn’t be there for long. It was almost like being able to reinvent herself each time. Of course, if this were to become a permanent post, that option would be gone. Sera felt a surge of nerves at the thought.

Shaking her head, Sera laughed to herself as she pushed her glasses back up on her nose. The road started to slope up and Sera inspected the green street sign with white lettering as they passed by – College Street. So they were finally here. Her father caught her eye in the rearview mirror.

“Hey Punkin’, I almost forgot to tell you, this will be our very first new house. It was just finished a few weeks ago. I really think you’re gonna love it.”

Seraphinus found the idea of a house no one else had ever lived in before very exciting. She was now bouncing back and forth from the side window to the front, trying to get a glimpse of the house. Finally the truck stopped in front of them and the van rolled to a stop as well. She burst out of the door, ran around the side of the truck, and came to an abrupt halt on the walk.

The front yard was all dirt, not a blade of grass in sight. A driveway wound around the side of the house to the back. The backyard was hidden by a 6’ privacy fence. She turned her attention to the house, a simple two-story affair. The house was white with forest green trim, shutters, and front door. The second story had a balcony that seemed to go around the entire floor.

Her father called to her, shaking her out of her scrutiny of their new living quarters. She drug her feet across the dirt as she approached him, all her initial excitement drained away. Galen threw his arm around her and pulled her close, whispering to her like a spy imparting high-level secrets.

“I know it looks a little barren right now, but you just wait and see. We’ll have grass before your birthday.”

“Oh Daddy, don’t joke like that. It’s a nice house and all, but no grass or trees?” Seraphinus looked jealously at the area stretching up to the hilltop filled with oak and pecan trees that towered towards the sky.

“You’re never gonna believe this, but tomorrow or the next day a truck will show up, and it will be piled high with squares of grass. They lay them down, like puzzle pieces, and by that night our front and back yards will be lush and green. There’s already one tree in the back, they’re bringing two more for both the back and front. We’ll have a green paradise in no time Punkin’, I promise.”

Sera looked doubtfully at her father, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Your mom and I have been talking, and we decided that since there’s only 2 weeks of school left, there’s no sense going through the motions of registering you. They’ll all be taking end-of-year terms, which you’ve already done, so we’re going to let you start summer vacation early.”

At this news Seraphinus grabbed her father’s neck in a crushing hug. She gave him a quick kiss, told him she loved him, and then bounced inside to find her mom.





What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
- unknown