Mother of Darkwaters: Book one of the Vessel series (12 page)

   After sitting the pen and paper on top of the counter, the woman reaches back into the glass cabinet. This time she grabs a book and a pen holder. Martha hands her granddaughter the book entitled: “
Calligraphy
.”

   “You may need to practice before you try writing in any of the library's books,” Martha instructs as she slips the pen into its holder. Julianna nods.

   “Very well then,” Martha motions for her granddaughter to set everything down by the pen and paper, “That's not even the good stuff.” She turns and begins making her way to the back of the room.

   Julianna follows her grams through the myriad of oddly placed glass countertops. They are not situated in rows, or even in a way to make the best usage of space. The teen debates asking her grams about it, but Martha interrupts her thoughts.

   “Here we go,” the older woman announces. She motions for Julianna to come and inspect the merchandise.

   The girl's eyes widen as she stares into the glass case attached to the backside wall. It houses the finest jewelry Julianna has ever seen. There are bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and stones.
Lots
of stones.

   “Are all of those real?”, the astonished girl questions.

   Martha laughs. “Yes child,” the woman informs, “Real rubies. Real emeralds. Real diamonds. Real everything.” Julianna's grandmother flips her right wrist downward to raise the drama, “Our family does not believe in fake.”

  The woman waves her right hand in front of the large display case, “They each have their own purpose and meaning – except for the stones.”

   She lowers her hand to her side, “They are all waiting for the right kind of design. And if you can think of anything, just let me know. You just might be a jewelry designer.”

   “Um - no,” Julianna's shaky tone reflects her nervousness about such things, “I'll probably leave that up to you.”

   Martha smiles as her granddaughter struggles to pull her eyes away from the glittering goodies. She continues, “You have access to everything in this room. After all, the library now belongs to you. But all I ask is that you respect our family's history enough to learn about something before you try to wear it or use it. Deal?”

   Julianna nods. Her heart pounds as she stares at all of the expensive jewelry.

  Martha gently places her right hand upon her granddaughter's left shoulder,

   “
Not
that there's anything wrong with wearing something because it is beautiful. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. It's more about...all of the jewelry you'll find in here has a purpose other than a holiday sale.”

   Julianna grins. Her green eyes move away from the onslaught of beauty to look at her smiling grandmother. Martha removes her hand from Julianna's shoulder. The woman points towards the glass case with her left.

   “For today, we are getting this one,” Martha proudly announces. She steps forward and walks to the far right end of the four-door case. She reaches in and pulls out a silver necklace with a shiny black emblem hanging from it. The woman offers the necklace to her granddaughter.

   Julianna's expression portrays both the excitement she feels for the new jewelry and the disbelief of having access to such wonderful things in the first place. She has never known such things. And she doesn't understand why. They were always here. Her grams has always been here. But when her mother died, her father cut her off from this side of her family. Not fair. Not fair at all.

   “Go ahead, Julia. It is yours,” Martha notices the teen's reluctance to take the necklace from her hands, “The black is polished onyx. It's not highly valuable in a monetary sense, but its meaning is priceless.”

   Julianna's hands tremble as she takes the necklace from her grandmother's eager hands. She slips the long necklace over her head and holds up the emblem to examine its design a little more closely. Tears cloud her eyes as she releases it to fall against her chest.

   “It's like the symbol on the carpet with the words,” Julianna's eyes finds her grandmother's watchful gaze, “It's beautiful. Thank you.”

   Martha pries, “And have we learned what those words mean?”

   Julianna looks down regrettably, “No.”

   The older woman lifts her granddaughter’s chin back up with her right hand.

   “Never look at the floor like that,” the woman scolds, “You are of a mighty bloodline.  You will discover this soon enough.”

   Martha releases her shocked granddaughter, “I already knew you didn't know its meaning yet. You haven't been here long enough to read that much. I was only giving you something to keep an eye on. I can't outright tell you the answer. That's a violation of everything our family stands for. You must find your own answers. No one can tell you what or how you should believe. And that includes your old grams here.”

   Julianna nods, “I'm sorry, grams.”

   Martha pulls her granddaughter in for a hug, “Oh Julia, you do not need to apologize. You did nothing wrong to me.” The woman softly pats the back of her granddaughter's head. Her quite words matches her gentle touch,

   “Whenever you live with regret for a mistake, you only serve to weaken yourself. Given enough time, you will have no strength left in you at all. Such people never succeed because they spend their entire lives fighting within themselves. They cannot move on. Be it fear of the past, fear of the present, fear of the unknown, it does not matter. Regret is a tool to teach us what it is we must change. But it is not a place we should always live. And we must always learn how to separate those things we can control against those things we cannot.”

   Martha releases her granddaughter and takes a step back, “Do you understand?”

   “Y-yes. I think so,” Julianna answers truthfully.

   “Good,” Martha accepts the teen's response, “If not, just think about it.”

   Julianna nods.

   “Very well. Why don't you grab all of your stuff and put it in your room? I have one more thing to show you.”

   After Julianna completes the simple task her grandmother directed, she makes her way back upstairs and stands upon the circle with its strange words. She looks again at the polished black emblem around her neck. It is a perfect match to the insignia within the floor's velvet carpet. Every curve, every letter, the circle with its star in the middle...there is nothing missing. Julianna wonders how much time something this intricate must have taken.

    “Up here, Julia,” Martha calls out from the upstairs balcony.

   The teen looks up. Her grams is waving for her to make the climb up the stairs. An equal distance either way, Julianna chooses to go up the stairs via the left side staircase. When she reaches the top, she notices a stone circle band with carved markings. The writings appear to be much like the ones carved into the upper walls of her bedroom. But unlike her walls, the stone band is held high into the air by twelve round pillars. They, too, are full of strange symbols and writings.

   “Over here,” Martha directs from the center of the twelve pillars. When her granddaughter reaches the area, Martha continues,

   “The flooring is specifically designed for chalk. Just like the chalk downstairs in the glass room. This area is referred to as a neutralizing zone. You can't mess anything up whenever you are inside these pillars. Always practice your skills here first.”

   
Neutralizing zone? Skills?

“Don't worry,” Martha immediately notices the confusion within Julianna's expression. “All of this will make more sense in due time. And I know how vague I am sounding right now. But I take our family oath very seriously. I am bound by it, just as you are.”

   Julianna pauses while looking around at the stones. She reaches up with her right hand and gently traces one of the symbols etched into a pillar.

   “I suppose I kinda understand,” Julianna reveals. “The family oath is more than about my mom's diary. Right?”

  “It is,” Martha answers simply.

   The girl lowers her hand from the stone and turns to face her grams, but Martha is walking towards the balcony. She follows her grams to the balcony's center and positions herself to her grandmother's right side.

   “It's something else. Isn't it?”, Martha's voice adores the library's scenery. She catches her granddaughter trying to fake a smile. It is apparent Julianna is unable to enjoy the moment like she does.

    Looking out over the library, Martha speaks, “I know your head is probably swimming for dear life right now.”

   “Yep,” Julianna quickly confesses. The suddenness of her statement causes the older woman to grin.

   “There's no rush to learn all of this, Julia,” Martha instructs quietly. The woman's blue eyes take in the three horseshoe-style bookshelves on the first floor. She continues, “You're not in any race. This entire library is yours.”

   Julianna nods. She stands in silence with her grams for a few moments and eventually lets out an exhale of frustration. Martha catches it, but chooses not to say anything. Her granddaughter must learn to voice her own opinion like a woman. She must learn to speak out whenever something is bothering her. How to make up her own mind. To choose for herself. To stand behind her own decisions. And above all, her granddaughter must learn to trust in herself.

   “Grams?”, Julianna breaks up the extended silence.

   “Hmm?”, Martha answers. She turns to face her granddaughter, “What is it?”

   “How am I supposed to read all of these books?”, the girl conveys her concern. She exhales another breath of defeat.

   Martha's laugh startles Julianna. The woman pats her granddaughter on the back, “Is that what has your mind all tied up in knots?”

   The teenager's confused facial expression confirms Martha's suspicion. She gently rubs Julianna's upper back in a circling motion,

   “You have much to learn, dear. One of which is that you will choose your own path. And another would be that no one could ever read every single book. It is an impossible feat. I've spent many hours trying. It can't be done. Besides, it's not set up for that. Just keep doing what you're doing. Everything will fall into place where you decide they should fall. That's the beauty of this library. No one chooses for you.”

   Julianna's small grin tells her grams everything she needs to know. Martha smiles and nods her head towards the double-doors of the library's entrance, “Walk me to the door?”

   Standing at the open entryway leading into the hall of candelabras, Martha explains further,

   “Once a week on Saturdays, you can have any friends over you like. They must remain downstairs at all times. You must take care to lock up the glass room. To activate it, just say the words on your amulet loudly. And stay clear of the floor. The door rises from it. It's not that I wouldn't trust someone you trust. It's that we must do our best to never cause unneeded temptation. Understand?”

   Julianna smiles widely, “You mean I can have friends over?”

   “This is your library, Julia,” Martha remains calm, “And it is up to you to keep it safe.”

   Julianna holds up both hands defensively, “I will, grams. Promise.” The girl pauses as she realizes her current friends do not like her anymore. They all blame her for what happened. Martha sees her discomfort. She steps forward and wraps both arms around Julianna with a hug.

   “People may say they're a friend when they are not,” Martha speaks as her granddaughter begins crying with another episode of her grief. “They may believe they are. We may believe it. But friends are for life, Julia. Great distances cannot keep them out of touch. And they never turn their backs on you. But friends like these are few. The Lady Lanecia is that friend for me. And if any of your friends have turned their backs on you in your time of need, then they are not your friends. You have not lost them. They have lost you. And this is something you always need to remember.”

   Julianna steps back and wipes her eyes, “It still hurts.”

   “Of course it does,” Martha agrees, “They are called growing pains for a reason.”

   The teen's head slightly retreats from the unusual usage of the term. She sniffles.

   “That makes sense,” Julianna confirms her understanding.

   “Of course it does, dear,” Martha answers, “I said it.”

   Julianna’s lips form a minimal smile against the wishes of her grief-stricken heart.

   “You don't ever need to ask my permission for anyone to come over,” Martha rephrases her words, “Just keep it to Saturdays and let me know so I can be there to unlock these doors here.”

   The girl's mood lightens with each word spoken by her grams. The woman has a way of lifting her spirits even at the darkest of times. She listens to her grams continue her speech without missing her beat.

   “Every Wednesday there's a cleaning crew who comes in. They help me to keep the place together. They will be cleaning your clothes, the washroom area, and the kitchen. And under no circumstances are they to ever clean the hallways where the colored doors are. That is our responsibility.”

   Martha notices hesitation in Julianna's demeanor.

   “Question?”

   “No to the clothes,” Julianna interjects, “I don't really like the idea of people messing with my stuff like that.”

   “Don't worry. I'll be here with them. And if you want to do your own laundry or send it out to a launder service, we can do that. Main thing you need to remember is that we clean on Wednesdays.”

   She waits until Julianna gives her the okay with a nod of both understanding and acceptance of her grandmother's conditions. Martha then continues,

   “Are you going to the funeral tomorrow?”

   Julianna nods somberly. Martha kisses her on the forehead before speaking again,

   “It'll be alright. We'll get through this together. You're not alone, baby. Not anymore. Frank and I are both here for you.”

   The two ladies hug again before Martha steps out into the hallway. She turns around and looks at Julianna. The girl looks a little overwhelmed.