Scent of the Roses, page 39
It’s probably just Marsha’s voice, the small whisper of the skeptic inside her insisted. And the power of suggestion. Marsha had always had the capacity to be extremely persuasive when she wanted to be. That had been true twenty years ago. No doubt her abilities had improved over the years.
Given their history, the idea that Marsha was once again attempting to exert some form of mental persuasion over her should have been frightening. Yet Scout did not feel afraid. The dread and apprehension she had experienced earlier were slipping away as the atmosphere around her became charged, more and more strongly, with a warm, comforting energy.
Beyond the warmth however, hovering on the edges of consciousness, she was aware of something else. A watchfulness. A readiness. Another type of tension altogether, like that which preceded an electrical storm, was building within the room. Still quietly biding its time but buzzing with angry anticipation.
Look at the cats. They feel it, too. Their casual, relaxed movements gave nothing away, but there was no hint of relaxation in their unfathomable eyes. They settled around the room and crouched watchfully as Marsha, who had seated herself on the floor, motioned to Scout to join her.
Briefly, while Lucy lit more incense, Marsha explained the process. Soon the mingled scents of frankincense and myrrh had filled the room. Scout lay quietly on the floor, breathing in the thick, fragrant air, and listening to the steady beating of the drum. She closed her eyes, knew a brief moment of disorientation, and then the drum began to pull at her.
She found herself drifting steadily towards the entrance to a cave. Floating. Sinking. Moving inward and downward. Spiraling slowly through a cavern hewn of solid rock. Heading inexorably down, down, down into the earth.
The thing was, though…she wasn’t at all certain she wanted to go there.
As soon as she thought it, she paused in her descent. She could feel herself hovering in place, becalmed in a pleasant solitude. Now, this is more like it, she decided with a rapturous sigh of relief. There was no stress here. Plenty of breathing space. No worries. No pain. No heartbreak.
I want to stay here. Right here. Maybe forever.
“Scout?” Marsha’s voice broke into the peaceful isolation she had allowed to collect all around her, like a thick, dark cloud. “Scout, can you hear me?”
She could hear Marsha just fine. But, mesmerized by the flood of pleasant sensations, she couldn’t answer. No, that wasn’t true. She could have answered, she just didn’t want to. Instead, she settled in deeper, nestling into the smoky darkness.
She was rocking now on a calm, almost waveless sea, awash in color and sound. And if Marsha and Lucy would just stop talking to her, she could sail away completely.
She was a balloon adrift in an endless, endless sky. Another moment, and she would be the sky, itself. Vast and boundless, everywhere and nowhere, all at once. She would be gone. Ended. Finis. No longer in torment. No longer a captive. She would finally be free.
A bitter, acrid smell of burning herbs assaulted her nose and she groaned inwardly. It was as though the harsh smoke had thrown an anchor around her mind.
“Can you hear us now?” Lucy asked her.
Yes. Go away.
“Come on, Scout. How about now?”
Her mind tugged restlessly at the invisible tether. “I could hear you just fine before,” she answered, peevishly.
Damn them. Why are they doing this? Always messing with my mind. Why can’t they just leave me alone? One of these days, I’ll show them. I’ll make them stop. Really, they have to be stopped.
“Scout?” Marsha’s voice this time. “You’ve gone too far. Come back up a bit. Come on… Okay, there we go. That’s better. Are you ready now?”
Scout sighed in resignation. “What’s next?” But even as she said it, she was aware of the picture forming in her mind. She knew she was still lying on the floor, but she could also see and feel herself standing in an unfamiliar location looking again at the entrance to a cave.
She heard the beating of the drum start up again and once again, she felt herself begin to move, downward always downward, through a seemingly endless series of tunnels. She felt the rock beneath her feet change to gravel, and then to sand. Gradually the darkness gave way to a shadowy, pearly gray light. The soft beating of the drum faded, faded, and was lost beneath the sighing, crashing sound of the waves as they broke against the shore that was suddenly right in front of her.
She stood at the far end of the cave, looking out at a fog-shrouded beach. She had the sense she was waiting for something, but she didn’t know what. The crashing of the surf echoed loudly within the cavern, and she felt herself growing increasingly agitated. A sound in the cave behind her caught her attention and she spun around. A strange, cold thrill ran through her. It was her dog. Sara whined and wagged her tail. Scout stared at her, perplexed.
How did she get here? she wondered. “Where did the dog come from?”
“Just relax, Scout,” Lucy spoke soothingly, but Scout could sense her underlying uneasiness. “Everything’s fine There’s no dog.”
Marsha chuckled. “Oh, sure there is. Don’t worry, keep going. You’re doing fine. I had a feeling about that.” Scout heard Marsha say smugly, to Lucy, or maybe to herself. “That first day last week? All that was missing was the bow and arrow.”
It’s the kind of beach you see in dreams, Scout thought. Hauntingly familiar, but never a place you could actually recall having been to before. The sky above was overcast and gray. And the sounds – the lapping of waves, the cries of sea birds – were all oddly muffled.
The dog took off down the beach at a run and Scout had to work to follow her. The sand was soft and deep, which made walking difficult. Far down the beach in front of her, she could just make out an indistinct figure warming itself by a fire set in an old oilcan.
As she got closer, she could tell that the person was definitely a woman, although she was not sure how she knew this. Whoever she was, the woman was bundled in an odd assortment of mismatched garments, making identification difficult.
And the fire, Scout realized now that she was closer, was not actually in the oilcan, but underneath it. In fact…it wasn’t an oilcan at all, but some type of large pot, which the woman appeared to be stirring with a pole of some sort. Or maybe…
What the hell? Is that a broomstick?
“You might want to watch out for some of those stereotypes.” a soft, amused voice spoke in her mind. “They’re awfully clichéd, you know. And, as it happens, a lot of us find them offensive.”
“Celeste?” Scout whispered. “Is it really you? Are you okay? Where is this place?”
“Oh my, so many excellent, difficult questions. Let’s just pretend they’re rhetorical, shall we?” Celeste twinkled at her. “What is it you really want to know, dear?”
Scout thought for a moment. Or tried to think. Her mind was still struggling to make sense of her surroundings. “I want to know what happened,” she said at last. “Who did this to you? And why? And…what’s going to happen to you now?”
“Ohh.” Celeste’s sigh was a long, drawn-out windy sound. “I don’t want to think about that just yet. It was too traumatic. That’s why I’m still here, you know. Even with all the signs I’d received, it still came as a shock when it happened. And I’m not quite ready to deal with that, yet.
“But I do know that it was time for me to move on. I’m not going back.” She smiled, somewhat sadly.“But you tell Marsha to hang on to that crystal. It’ll come in handy, later. She’ll find a use for it. Just not now. Not for this. Oh, and before I forget; here’s something for you.”
Scout watched as Celeste dug into a pocket in the strange shapeless coat she was wearing and brought out a small velvet bag. “I want you to have these,” Celeste said, pressing the bag into Scout’s hand. “Tell Marsha I said so. She’ll know how to get them to you.”
“What are they? What’s in here?”
“My tarot cards. You’re going to need an outlet of some kind for your energies. And, to tell you the truth, I think you’ll do a lot better with them than I ever did. Although, I guess I really was getting better at it, wasn’t I?”
For a moment, Scout thought she sounded wistful. But then she smiled. “Listen, we’re almost out of time. Tell Lucy to keep a close eye on those chickens of hers. And tell Marsha to stop blaming herself. This wasn’t her fault. Oh,” she broke off with a small giggle, “and please. Tell Marsha to stop worrying about the knives. They were never that important. I just knew they’d be needed. Ask her if she thinks she’s the only one who ever had a premonition.”
Without warning, Scout found her focus wavering. Celeste’s face began to fade. A buzzing, humming noise filled her head, and through the mist that suddenly enveloped her, she heard Celeste’s voice again, whispering urgently. “Wait. One more thing—don’t go yet! Open your eyes again, Scout. Someone wants to talk to you.”
Scout hadn’t even realized that her eyes were closed, but she opened them anyway. And there, standing right in front of her, her arms open wide was Caroline. Without a thought Scout threw herself into her stepmother’s arms and was at once engulfed in a cloud of emotions.
Love and laughter burst around her, and through her. A blazing white light washed over her obliterating any other reality. A single word reverberated through the brightness.
“Remember…”
* * *
Caroline had gotten no response when she’d tried knocking on the door to Scout’s bedroom. The door remained locked. In the end, she’d had to use her key to open it.
Scout was lying in bed when she entered the room, not sleeping, just lying there. Her expression that same controlled remoteness that Caroline had already, God help her, almost begun to accept as normal.
It was only in the last few days that she’d begun to worry about drugs and cults and psychotic conditions. Clearly, there was something wrong with Scout. Something dreadfully wrong. Dear God, not even her father’s death had put a crack in that hideous, cold façade!
She couldn’t believe she’d almost missed the signs. But then again, there had been so many other things to worry about. Sorrow and pain washed through her once again.
What’s happened to us? How did everything go so wrong?
Only two months ago – less than two months, really – they had all been together. Happy. Alive. They had celebrated Scout’s birthday, none of them with the slightest notion of what was coming. And now? Now it was just the two of them. And whatever Caroline had to do to preserve what was left of her family, she would do it. No matter what the cost to her heart might be. No matter how much it tore her apart to send Scout away, she would do what was necessary to save her only remaining child.
I just hope it’s not too late.
This new coldness, this wall of ice Scout had erected around herself – what could have caused her to do such a thing? There was no way to reach her through it. Each attempt at discussion only seemed to increase the blankness in Scout’s expression.
Caroline could only hope that, given time, Scout would find her way back from wherever it was she had gone.
But worrisome as even that was, it was still not Caroline’s most pressing problem. Her number one priority had to be to ensure Scout’s physical safety, and that meant getting her away from here. Fast. And far. And for as long as necessary. Because, as had become terrifyingly clear, it was no longer safe for Scout to remain in Oberon.
Caroline had never fully accepted the idea that’s Gil’s death had been an accident. He was too good of a driver, for one thing. But it was only today, when Rose Greco had called to offer her condolences, that she realized what she should have seen immediately. With Lisa missing, anyone who knew the girls would have assumed – as Lucy apparently had done, when she first learned about the accident involving the Honda – that it had been Scout who was driving the girls’ car through the canyon that night.
“Scout. Honey, listen to me a moment,” Caroline said. “I’m going to need you to pack some of your things. I’ve made arrangements for you to go and stay with your grandfather for a while. You have a flight out the day after tomorrow.”
“What? No!” For a moment, only a moment, Caroline saw a glimpse of the real Scout. But then the cold stranger immediately reappeared, to say with icy politeness, “I don’t want to do that Caroline. Why can’t I stay here?”
She fought hard to keep her voice calm, to keep from screaming in impotent rage, Who are you? What have you done with my child?
“Scout…please don’t make this more difficult than it already is. I can’t… I just can’t have you here. Not anymore. You have to go away. That’s all there is to it!”
Blank eyes regarded her coldly. “Why are you doing this? This is my home.”
“But there have been so many… problems, lately. Don’t you see that? Too much has already gone wrong. It— it’s not safe. After your father’s death I realized—”
“What does that have to do with me?” queried the stranger.
“Because, it could have been you. It was your car. Anyone who saw it, would have thought— It should have been you driving the car that night. Don’t you understand that yet? You’re the one who should have died that night—you, not Gil.” Her voice cracked, and before she could start crying, she hurried from the room.
If she broke down now and Scout attempted to comfort her, how would she ever find the strength to send her away?
And if she broke down and Scout merely continued to stare so coldly at her? Then, Caroline knew without doubt, her heart would shatter beyond repair. She ran down the hall and slammed the door of her bedroom behind her…
* * *
Scout felt as though her head were coming apart. The buzzing, whirring, stinging sensation grew louder and more and more painful. It was as if her skull contained a horde of angry bees, all desperate to escape. She could feel something sucking at the edges of her mind, pulling and tugging at her consciousness. Forcing her to respond. To return. To—
“No!” her voice exploded from her throat in a roar of anger. She hurled herself into a sitting position and found herself face to face again with Marsha and Lucy. “How could you do it? How? I could kill you both for what you did to me!”
33
“It’s too dangerous,” Lucy’s voice was a whisper, barely audible, shaking with emotion. “You said it yourself; she goes too deep. And this chakra link is gonna double the risk. What are you trying to do here, anyway? Drive the both of you completely over the edge?”
Scout paid no attention to the argument raging quietly between Lucy and Marsha; she didn’t care what they thought. She’d deal with the two of them later.
Lying on the floor, blinking back tears, she tried to deal with the sudden realization that she had thrown the last twenty years of her life away over a stupid misunderstanding.
Nothing had been what it seemed. Caroline had not kicked her out, as she’d always believed. She’d been trying to save her. Robyn had been right, and as for Scout—
I’ve been a major fucking idiot, haven’t I?
And she had to learn that now. Now, when it was too late to go back and change anything.
“I disagree,” she heard Marsha insist. “I think the chakra link is critical. It’s not going to increase the risk. If anything, it’ll provide a safeguard.”
“How can you know that? How do you know that you won’t get sucked right down with her to…wherever it is she goes? And just what in the hell do you expect me to do if you both get lost like that this time?”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Well, I thought the whole point of using Scout for this was because she wasn’t going to get all emotional. But if that wasn’t emotion, I’d sure like to know what the hell you thought it was. This whole thing is turning into a gigantic clusterfuck. And I don’t want any part of it!”
“There were several reasons we needed Scout for this, Lucy. She can do things that you and I can’t. You’re just afraid you’re gonna lose control of the situation.”
“Well, hell, yes, I’m afraid, Marsha. I don’t know why you’re not. I wouldn’t go under with her like you’re planning to do for…well, for anything, really.”
Enough is enough. Scout propped herself up on an elbow. “Lucy, if you want to back out now, you go right ahead.” The two women swung around to face her, looking tense and unhappy. “And that goes for you too, Marsha. I don’t suppose there’s any reason why I can’t try this on my own. But now that we’ve come this far, I’m not turning back.”
“You think you can do this on your own?” Lucy glared at her; her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. “Seriously?”
“If I have to.”
“Then you’re delusional—on top of everything else. And you have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into.”
Scout felt a slow, unpleasant smile crawl across her face, she couldn’t help but indulge in a little bit of malice. “Ah, but this isn’t anything I got myself into, Lucy; is it? It was you two who got me into it, all the way back in high school.”
“That’s not—”
“Yes. It is. This is all a direct result of what you guys did back then.” Lucy’s face turned dead white as Scout continued, “Now you don’t like dealing with the consequences of your actions? Well, neither do I. But I’ve had to. For twenty years.”
“Scout…”
“No. I’m tired of talking about it. I’m all talked out. So just quit your whining about how you don’t like what’s happening, and let’s finish what you started, okay? And then maybe, if you geniuses can figure out a way to undo whatever it was you did to me, I can get the hell out of here, go back to LA, and get on with what’s left of my miserable fucked up life. How’s that for a plan?”
