Authors: Heather Bserani
Michael glanced from back door to front. Dori didn’t get too far before he began to chase after her. He reached for her, but she shut the door. He threw it open again so forcefully that the panes of glass shattered. He pursued at full speed and slammed into the railing, splintering the wood with his force. He watched her. A watche flee in fear until she disappeared in the blinding curtains of snow. A storm had come up as quickly as his uncontrollable urge.
This time he had gone too far. His choice was simple. In a frenzy, he grabbed a handful of clothes, his wallet and an old journal and shoved them in a duffel bag. He was reaching for a small painting of Dori when the latch on his bedroom door clicked shut.
Michael whirled around and locked eyes with the one thing that made his skin crawl. He froze.
“Going somewhere, Niccolo? Oh wait, it’s Michael now isn’t it?”
“Get out!” Michael’s muscles tensed, ready for the fight that was about to ensue.
“Come now, that’s no way to talk to a guest, especially one of my venerable status. I had imagined you would have learned some manners after all these years. I guess once a gutter rat, always a gutter rat.”
“I am not going to tell you again,” Michael spat through clenched teeth.
The intruder lunged, wrapped a skeletal hand around Michael’s throat and slammed him against the wall.
“I don’t think you realize that I give the orders around here. So you go ahead, run away again. I would love to have a go with your little tart there. I think I can succeed where you have not.”
“Leave her alone!” It was barely a croak.
A repugnant fog began to fill the room and it was difficult to see more than the outline of the barbarian choking him. As the fog grew thicker, the monster holding him became increasingly less corporeal.
“You know, Mother always told me never to play with my food. She was such an idiot. Killing her really was a service to the world!” As the death-grip on Michael’s neck loosened, the fetid mist was sucked out of the room, taking the intruder with it.
“This is all very far from over,” Michael said to no one at all.
Chapter Six
December 24, 1597
I have seen it. The disembodied spectre made himself known to me the nighte before last. Alas, all hope is loste!
I awoke with a starte to a strange murmur. I lay frozen in terror for I knew I was not alone. The unsettling hiss sounded again and I could feel breath on my ear. Surely my eyes deceived me for I saw nothing in the blackness, but the stench of fetid breath was undeniable. Gooseflesh pimpled my skin.
“
Abraham. Your time is shorte.
“
The whispered threat choked me with panic. A glimmer of lighte drew my attention and I dared glance to the side. Hovering mere inches from my face were eyes; eyes that will haunt me for the rest of my days. They bore . SFdown on me, filled with anger and greate power. There was a ruthless hunger that was too
,
too much to bear. Overcome with frighte, I succumbed to blackness.
I have since taken residence in the chapel as have the fewe remaining colonists. We have all been visited by Satan
’
s messenger. We remain here vigilantly praying for a miracle, but awaiting the worste. It won
’
t be long now.
Michael knew he was on the right track. He himself had stared into those eyes. They had haunted him for the better part of a century. It had to be one and the same. The demon terrorizing Abraham tended toward the theatrical much like the one torturing him. His only hope was that Abraham had found a weakness, some tiny flaw that would allow him to end this forever.
He was torn. With the means to freedom seemingly within reach, he felt giddy. The nomadic life would hopefully end soon. Having a chance at a happy ending and possibly someone to share it with seemed superfluous. If only he were certain about Dori’s feelings. He hoped his loss of composure hadn’t caused irreparable damage. One thing was certain, he had to protect her at all costs, despite what her feelings might be. There was a monster on the prowl.
Chapter Seven
Several days had passed since Michael had kissed her, but she was no closer to sorting out her feelings than she had been that crazy night. When she got home, Amir was already asleep. She had lain awake for a while trying to figure out what was going on and what to tell her husband before returning to her memory box. The comfort of her favorite possessions soothed her and she nodded off shortly before Amir awoke to start the day.
Over the next few days, she tried to have minimal contact with both men. She threw herself into her chores as best she could without reinjuring her knee, making sure to steer clear of the stallion barn. Every time she saw Amir, her guilt became tangible. On the rare occasions where she ran into Michael, her heart raced and her cheeks flushed. Even though she was disgusted with herself for her weakness, she couldn’t deny her growing desire. Something had to give.
By Wednesday, the meteorologists were predicting the constant lake effect snow would develop into a full-fledged blizzard. Everyone on the farm jumped into overdrive trying to ready the farm for the storm. Even Rita was enlisted to call and reschedule the rest of Amir’s lessons for the week. Dori still wasn’t up to the physical demands of the job, so she ended up running endless errands, stocking up on necessary supplies.
After a long day of running around, she was happy to get her girls and return home. The storm seemed to be settling in early and the plows were already having a hard time keeping up. If she was lucky, she would be able to finish the last of the errands tomorrow morning before they got snowed in.
After a slippery and stressful drive home, Dori arrived to an empty house. She figured Amir was also out preparing for the blizzard and thought nothing further of it. She looked hopef beully for a note indicating when he would be home, or where he was. As usual, he left no information as to his plans. It was a repeat of numerous other nights, when he was out with no explanation.
After Dori had the children settled, she went to Amir’s desk looking for some hint as to his whereabouts. There, she found a paper with notes jotted in English and Arabic. She was able to decipher the name “Al Hadiyah” which was another of Amir’s stallions. He had carefully chosen the horse’s bloodlines and bred him to be phenomenal. The results were not disappointing.
Next to the name of the horse, Dori was able to discern some numbers in Arabic, although she didn’t know which ones. There were six figures, separated by a comma in the middle. Amir had written the name of a local bank where he held an account and a date with the word “transfer” next to it. Underneath this paper was Al Hadiya’s folder, his pedigree missing. All of this information could only mean one thing. Amir had finally sold the stallion for six figures and he had organized the sale before he left.
Dori was brimming with happiness. This had been the break they were waiting for. This horse had been bred and trained to sell. He was their ticket to a better life, one without so many financial woes. Based on the six figure sum next to the horse’s name, she ascertained that the horse had been worth all that Amir had predicted.
Dori’s heart also swelled with pride for her husband. She felt emotions that had long been dormant flicker slowly to life, pushing the guilt aside. Despite their recent distance, she was proud of Amir’s ability to predict the superior creature he could create by carefully choosing horses. He spent much of his time at home studying books full of pedigrees, studying breed lines and characteristics. She had been a little skeptical of his decision to make the necessary investment to breed this certain horse, but she said nothing out of respect for him and his desires. Apparently he had been right and the initial investment had multiplied exponentially.
Lost in the moment, Dori was hatching a plan to celebrate Amir’s success. She went back to her girls and told them about a surprise for Daddy. She explained that the girls had the very important job of coloring placemats for a special dinner that night. The girls, motivated by Dori’s excitement, jumped at the chance to help with a special surprise for their daddy. With the girls working on their project, Dori was able to prepare Amir’s favorite meal.
As the girls finished their part of the surprise, Dori asked them to place silk flowers in a vase to make something pretty for Daddy. They spent more time than expected agonizing over which flower should go where.
Before Amir returned, Layla and Dahlia grew hungry. Dori settled for serving them before the adults had their meal. She was expecting Amir’s smiling face to come through the door any minute. She tried to focus on the dinner rather than the minutes as they ticked by. Personally, she wasn’t as thrilled with the dinner choice as Amir would be, but she knew that this was his night to celebrate and she was happy to support him.
Eventually it was time to bathe the children and put them to bed. Amir still hadn’t returned. The children couldn’t hide their disappointment at the fact that they wouldn’t get to show Amir their craft projects. As she tucked in Dahlia, she was faced with the question she had avoided all night.
“Where Daddy, Momma?”
“He’s working, Sweetie.” How could she possibly tell her daughter that she didn’t know where her father was? Watching her youngest daughter’s face fall in disappointment broke Dori’s heart. She did the best she could to put up a strong façade for Dahlia.
“I’m sure he will love your flowers and your pictures when he sees them later, Love,” she whispered as she tucked in the wiggling child. She kissed her quickly, not wanting to reveal that her eyes were filling with tears, or the quiver in her voice. She tip-toed out of the baby’s room and took a few breaths to gather herself. Layla wouldn’t be so easy.
She opened the door with a smile on her face.
“I am so proud of you today, Layla,” she gushed to the three year old. “You worked very hard and Daddy is going to love your projects.”
“Mommy, where is Daddy? I miss him,” Layla said dropping her eyes.
“Honey, Daddy is working on something very important. He wishes he could be here to kiss you goodnight. He will be home soon.”
Layla looked up at Dori, searching her eyes for the truth. Dori blinked back her tears and kept her face smooth, not letting her emotions show. She didn’t want to upset her daughter. Watching her two girls lament Amir’s absence was more painful than him being gone in the first place. She couldn’t bear to watch her children being hurt; it tore the fragments of her heart into jagged shards.
Far too mature for her age, Layla accepted Dori’s answer even though it was clear from her expression that she didn’t believe it. Dori hugged her daughter, pain stinging her heart, and tucked her in for the night. As Dori tried to stand up, Layla held onto her with one hand and gently placed the other on Dori’s cheek.
“I love you and I like you and I like you and I love you Mommy,” said a melancholy three year old.
Smiling, Dori finished the familiar cadence. “I like you and I love you and I love you and I like you too, now go to bed.” She hoped Layla hadn’t noticed the way her voice cracked and now hard she had to swallow as she said that. Before the tears escaped, she quickly left the little girl’s room.
Dori made her way back to the kitchen. She was trying to salvage the dinner by keeping it warm without drying it out. After another hour, she opened the bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. When the clock chimed again, her share of the bottle was gone and she began packing the elaborate dinner away. Amir still hadn’t returned by the time she climbed into bed.
She lay in the dark silence contemplating the evening and the painful throb in her chest. She had been so excited by her husband’s accomplishment; she was finally compelled to reconnect with him. She wanted to support him with the impromptu dinner celebration. She was thinking of her girls’ excitement as they threw themselves into the decorations for the evening. She was thinking about the food that would now surely go uneaten. She was pondering her guilt and her broken heart. Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep, waking up several times with a start, reaching for Amir and coming up empty hande Cp eone hand ad.
Finally, when she woke up around three in the morning, he was there. He grunted as she reached for his comfort in the night.
“Hi Honey, where were you? You didn’t leave a note,” Dori whispered in the dark.
“I sold Al Hadiyah. I was out celebrating,” Amir murmured coldly. In his tone, Dori heard the unspoken words, “I don’t have to explain my every action to you.” The conversation was over.
Dori tried to find sleep again with Amir’s lack of compassion echoing in her ears. A slow tear ran down her cheek and fell silently on her pillow. Before long, she would steal away into the night, again looking for the box that held her peace.
It seemed like a distant memory as Dori shoveled her truck out the next morning. She didn’t dare wake Amir for help. He had been out late and she didn’t want to face him this morning. She tried not to focus on the pain that was still throbbing in her chest and knee as she cursed the raging storm. It was crazy to go out in this, but she had to make it to the feed store today. Finally, as Dori was forced to spend every ounce of her effort on the treacherous drive, she was able to find the numbness she had been waiting for.