I was floored by the site of the town below. To the right, I could see a small portion of the main street. There were many people riding horseback, and many horse and buggies riding up and down the dusty dirt road where cars should’ve been. The view resembled a scene from my dad’s favorite childhood western television show,
Bonanza
.
“Do you remember any of this?” Bethany prodded looking down at the town.
“I do, but not like this. It's just too much change. I don't know how to feel about it. I'm confused.” I had a lump in my throat as I tried not to cry.
Just then I noticed someone looking at us from a veranda from the large Victorian mansion across the two vast gardens, which stretched the length of two houses. I couldn't see the person’s face clearly. It looked to be a boy about my age. He seemed to be staring directly at us. I didn’t expect him to wave, but he did.
As I started to wave back, Bethany suddenly grabbed my arm, nearly dislocating it, and whisked me back into the sitting room. We moved so fast that the breeze she conjured up literally formed a loose tornado around us. A second could not have past.
“What's wrong? Who was that?” I tried to recover. Nothing shocked me anymore, especially not Bethany's erratic behavior.
“No one... just Gerald Bergnum, no one of any importance that is. Ugh! He's always staring. It's so rude and juvenile.” Bethany blurted out, standing in the center of the room.
Whenever Bethany was nervous or uneasy, she couldn't keep her hands still. I could tell she was uncomfortable by the way she kept smoothing her dress. I guess some things never change, no matter the time or era.
“Do I... did I…know him?” I questioned as I tried to peer out the French doors to see if he was still there. It was blurry looking through the thick lace curtains. I could still see a figure standing on the balcony. Was he waiting for our return after such a hasty exit?
“Everyone
knows
the Bergnum family. Ms. Bergnum, the lady of the house, is Gerald's grandmother. She sits up on this hill with her nose in the clouds. She believes everyone is beneath her selfproclaimed stature since her family owns the Bergnum Railroad Company as well as several banks in both California and New York.” Bethany rolled her eyes, obviously unimpressed.
“Well, what about him?” I said a little annoyed that Bethany had basically avoided answering my question.
“Well, her beloved grandson has not fallen far from the Bergnum tree, if you must know. Actually, you found him to be annoying and never liked him or his brother, whom died last year of a laudanum overdose, quite the scandal.” Bethany said in that ‘You didn’t hear it from me’ tone. “Ms.
Bergnum, who has spent most of her life gossiping and judging everyone in this town couldn’t shield her own family from scrutiny.” Bethany explained.
Obviously, Bethany was bored with the subject, therefore quickly changing it as she busily began fluffing the embroidered pillows on the chairs.
“More importantly, I want to help you get settled. This is your chambers. I think you will find it quite comfortable, you did when you moved in before you left two years ago.” Bethany commented. I forgot about the boy for a moment and noted the change in Bethany’s articulation and choice of words. There was a distinct change in her diction, she sounded way too mature.
“Well what do you think of your chambers, Delia?” Bethany inquired after a short pause. She seemed to be grateful that I didn't prod any further.
“I love it,” I lied. I was overwhelmed by the opulence of both rooms and repulsed by the fact that I once lived in them. The creepy feeling was still within reach.
Suddenly, a glimmer from the fireplace mantle caught my eye. It was one of the gilded picture frames. As I got closer to the fireplace, I saw two more photographs of myself. They were portraits, all in oval shaped frames. One of me at maybe ten or eleven years old and the other I would guess was taken recently. They were faded and in black and white. I was dressed in the fashion of the day.
There was a third picture; one of a baby. “Is this me?” I asked Bethany as I held up the photograph of the baby.
Bethany nodded as she walked over to where I stood. “Of course,” she confirmed.
I realized then that I had never seen a baby picture of myself nor of one of me as a child while in the future. Only pictures of myself as a teenager.
My parents had claimed that they had lost a set of picture albums, but never could specifically explain how. As I remembered this, the sadness of my reality caused me to gasp. It appeared to be true. I really did live in the past. This only confirmed my imprisonment now. I just stared at the baby’s chubby cheeks, my cheeks, and unconsciously rubbed my face.
I watched Bethany open the closet doors and randomly pull out an arm full of dresses in an array of jewel tone colors that every girly girl would love to choose from. I felt sick as if tennis balls bounced around in my stomach. She laid each dress out on the bed and went back into the closet and returned with a laced up thing that I believed to be a corset and several full length slips.
“What’s that” I asked with alarm in my voice. I know she wasn’t thinking that I was going to wear them. I wouldn’t be caught dead in the dresses or those ridiculous undergarments.
“This is a corset. The brassiere has yet to be invented.” She paused for a second. Her right eyebrow was raised as if she challenged me to disprove that fact. “Those are petticoats” She pointed to the slips.
Bethany went into the top drawer of one of the dressers and pulled out several pairs of stockings as I picked up the corset and felt the bone wires sewn into it, which created the contoured shape. I flung it right back on the bed. With a sigh as if she had been laboring for hours, she sat on the bench positioned at the foot of my bed.
“I’m not wearing that thing,” I declared, and dared Bethany to test me.
“What the corset? How else do you expect to fit your dresses?” She asked with a giggle.
“Why can’t I just keep what I’ve got on right now?” I referred to the dress I had picked out with my mother.
“Stop being difficult, Delia. That dress is unacceptable today. You know that.” I could do without the condescending attitude.
“I have to admit I rather enjoyed wearing denims and tshirts too, it was very… freeing, I suppose. I do wish we could dress that way now, but it's not who we are. Today we dress like a lady and more importantly we behave like one. It's time to refamiliarize with our way of doing things. Now…
these are some of your loveliest dresses.” Bethany smiled as she ran her hand over the sumptuous fabric of one of the dresses.
I wasn't ready to start dressing. I had Bethany all to myself and I wanted this opportunity to pump as much information out of her as I could. But first I had to ask her one question. I hoped for an honest answer.
"Why did you run out of the cafeteria instead of just telling me what the dream meant?" I asked.
She sighed as she pulled out a white handkerchief and sort of waved it around her face as if to surrender any chance of dodging the question. She blotted away any perspiration that may have formed on her forehead and neck. Could I blame her? It was warm, at least ninety degrees, she had to be roasting like a rotisserie chicken in that getup.
“I wanted to tell you everything. I wanted to tell you who you are, who I am, about my brother, Evan, and about my relationship with Nikolas.”
Bethany's eyes filled with tears. “When you told me about your dream, I knew you would soon remember. I also knew that it was difficult for you to tell me and that you were in need of a friend.” Bethany stood up from the bench.
My eyes followed her across the room and over to the vanity. She stopped and turned to look at me again. There was so much pain in her eyes, so much sorrow.
“But I couldn’t tell you of your true identity. Just knowing would have jeopardized your safety. I was afraid that if I had told you of your past that your memory would fully return and you would not understand the life around you. So I ran. I ran to Nikolas.” She said desperately. I tried to understand that she had been in a precarious position. Although her decision made sense, it left me with a more million questions and uncertainty.
Bethany walked toward me, and said something I didn’t consider before. “I also didn't tell you because I thought you simply wouldn’t have believed me.” She was right, I thought. I would have never believed her. Not in a trillion years. “I had no idea that Victor knew where to find you.”
Bethany said, reclaiming her seat next to me on the bench. I believed her wholeheartedly.
“I understand. You had no choice.” I paused for a moment then the tears came… again. “I'm scared Beth. I don't understand any of this. Why me?” I asked, petrified of being responsible for the security of an empire. Bethany pulled a handkerchief from a hidden pocket in her dress and handed it to me. She waited as I dabbed my eyes and blew my nose. All the while she patted and rubbed my shoulder the way a best friend should when her friend is hurt or depressed about some dilemma.
“It’s simple. It’s not for us to determine why. We can’t help who we are or the families we are born into. In your case you are the most fortunate being in the entire world. Right now it may seem like a curse, but you’ll soon remember the great fortune of your gift.” Bethany tried to sound reassuring. It wasn’t working. Her sympathetic tone was not enough. As warm as it was both inside and outside of my room, I had goose bumps all over; shivering actually.
“It’s a gift that you must accept and that you have accepted before you were sent into the future,” Bethany continued. “Our kind has waited for the one who will save us from the evil that has plagued us for centuries. Due to the strength of your particular bloodline, this responsibility ultimately and timely is with you. Hence, you must be patient, with the return of your memory; all of this will be significant.”
I looked at her with her hair piled high on the top of her head. She was genuinely ecstatic to be home and looked the part. I couldn’t help but wonder…
“Was I happy living here… in the past?” I asked with apprehension.
“Yes, I believe so, Cordelia. This was and is your home, and what you know. You were happy, full of life, and jovial. You embraced what you were destined to be. Don’t be afraid. Just give it a little time. You’re safe here. It's difficult now because you have not regained your memory.” Bethany explained and patted my hand.
“Will I?” The desperation in my voice could not be masked. I wasn’t trying to disguise it.
“Of course you will. And you will remember who you are now as well.” Bethany assured me as she gave me a hug. I held onto her for a moment. I needed the feeling of comfort from someone I knew.
I let go of Bethany and stood up to walk to the window once again. I was always drawn to the view of the Sierras, and now to the intense sunlight that streamed into the sizeable room. As I peeked through the lace curtains, my mind began to wonder. My thoughts were tangled. I wanted to remember who I was – am. I wanted to stop feeling confused and disconnected. If it weren't for the fact that I didn't remember then perhaps, I wouldn't want to leap from this balcony, head first into the stone walkway that bordered the gardens below.
“What does it really mean to be an Empress anyway? I mean… am I supposed to rule a bunch of people?” I asked and Bethany seemed to lighten up.
“Delia, it’s better to wait. Explaining will only confuse you further. Let’s just wait for your memory to return then everything will come naturally to you.”
“Just give me an idea. I want to know.”
“It’s not that simple. I can’t explain it in detail. Well, all of your actions and decisions will depend on the circumstances surrounding the empire.
Although you will have the elders as advisors, your decree is law.”
“But how does that work here, in Nickel City? Don’t we follow the regular laws of the state and country?”
“We do follow the laws of this country in order to blend in, but we also live with our own laws that must be followed or there will be consequences.”
“What kind of laws do we have?”
“Well, one is that we are not allowed to use our powers in the public eye. Another is that we must never reveal what we are to a mortal.
Although, all of our members are scattered throughout the west, we must respect the levels of power within the empire. We are not allowed to steal from or murder another of our kind. This also goes for the mortals as well. ” Bethany explained.
“But I thought we can’t be murdered.” I speculated.
“We can be murdered on Earth, and if were not brought back to life in twentyfour hours, then our soul will exist in the Underworld, and never to be released by Hades.” The mention of Hades scared me enough not to delve into it.
“What would be the punishment for using your power in public?”
“The crime of displaying your power in public may be the confiscation of your powers for a period of time, which would leave an Ischeros vulnerable to attacks. The crime of murder depends on if it was the murder of an Ischeros or a mortal,” Bethany said. “For a mortal, the punishment may be exile for a period of years without power and to live as a mortal. The elders usually make that decision with the approval of the reigning empress or emperor. If it’s a demigod, the governing emperor or empress, you, must sentence the member. In the past, our leaders have sentenced offenders to eternal banishment in the Underworld. Only twice has a leader extinguished the offender’s existence, including their soul.”
The idea that I would have the power to pass judgment on someone was intimidating. I couldn’t see myself ruling over a pet much less a person or a god or whatever we supposedly were.
“I don’t see the point of having powers if we aren’t allowed to use them.” I remarked.
“I didn’t say that we aren’t allowed to use them. I said that we aren’t allowed to display them in the public eye, the mortal’s eye,” Bethany corrected with a sigh. “That would be revealing what we are, and more importantly what we are not.” Bethany added, eyeing me closely.