Mother of Darkwaters: Book one of the Vessel series (23 page)

   “Her name is Lilith,” Martha clarifies.

  
Lilith? Where have I heard that name before?

   “Probably from the white books you have on your nightstand, dear,” Martha answers.

   “You
can
hear me,” the shocked teen observes.

   “Oh yes, Misses Julianna. Yur grams be hearin' yur screamin' alright,” the voodoo priestess points out.

   “I'm n-not screaming,” the girl argues.

   “Actually you are, dear,” Martha corrects, “But that's not something we need to learn today.”

   “C-can grandfather hear me, too?”, Julianna questions nervously.

   “No,” Martha answers while shaking her head, “It's a bloodline thing. But I try not to rub his face in it.”

   “It'd never be good to let a man feel inferior or left out,” Lady Lanecia joins in the conversation, “And don't be foolin' yurself, Misses Julianna. Da Frankie Dermott is a very clever man. He én Mrs. Martha have been together fur a long time. Two wonderful lovebirds.”

   “Yes,” Martha smiles while glancing towards the closed door, “Frank's a very good man. He never criticizes negatively. He always supports me.”

   Martha looks back to Julianna, “And just between us girls, he's my solid rock. The man keeps me grounded.”

   “Does he know?”, Julianna inquires further.

   “He does,” Martha nods, “But it is hard to understand something whenever you haven't actually experienced it.”

   “He doesn't believe you,” Julianna observes.

   “Oh da Frankie Dermott
always
be believin’ in Mrs. Martha, child,” the voodoo priestess says while making some finishing touches with her design on the floor.

   “Yes,” Martha agrees with a nod, “He believes.”

   Julianna smiles while Martha turns and walks over to the faucet. Her grams turns it on. The girl’s eyes widen.

   “Geezus! That's freakin' cold,” Julianna objects as the table turns into a freezer under her back. The voodoo priestess jerks from the girl's sudden outburst.

   “Scream in yur head, child,” Lady Lanecia answers, “Yur mouth be givin' en old lady heart failure.”

   “It's sssooo c-cold,” Julianna's chattering returns exponentially. She attempts to refocus herself by watching her grams mix herbs and spices from different containers out of the box. Their final resting place is in the wooden bowl.

  
Pestle. Apothecary.

   Julianna names what she sees in order to fight off the cold.

   “And how do you know about these things?”, Martha inquires while mixing her concoction.

   “The Elder Ssscrolls,” Julianna answers through her shivers.

   “I'm sorry, dear,” Martha responds, “I have never heard of those scrolls. What are they?”

   “G-g-game,” the teen clarifies.

   Martha remains silent.

   “Eh,” Lady Lanecia responds, “Dat be what is wrong with this world. Children growin' up inside of those electronics. Evil.”

   Martha stands up and turns. Lady Lanecia is standing by the other side of the table next to Julianna.

   “I agree,” Martha comments, “But someone had to raise my granddaughter. Her father could barely dress himself. Let alone raise a little girl.”

   Julianna looks downward as the voodoo priestess pats her right leg through the blanket.

   “Yes, Mrs. Martha,” the voodoo woman agrees, “But dat little girl is not so little anymore. Da time fur games must stop. It'd be time fur hurself to be livin'.”

  
Hello? I'm right here.

   Lady Lanecia locks gazes with her patient. She smiles.

   “Yes, Misses Julianna. Yurself is here.”

   “Well I know one thing is for certain,” Martha speaks as she turns to head for the faucet next to the one where the hose is attached, “If Julia doesn't stop yelling out in her head like that, she's going to wake up the dead. Then we’ll have a
real
problem on our hands.”

  
Oh gawd. I really don't need zombies in my life right now.

   Martha and Lady Lanecia laugh.

   “Da Mrs. Martha should not be torturin’ her grand baby like dat,” the voodoo woman's white teeth shows through her wide smile.

   Martha turns on the hot water and places the bowl underneath the slow streaming water, “Sorry, Jules. I just couldn't resist.”

   “F-f-f-funny,” Julianna answers with a weak attempt of being condescending.

   “All ready” Martha announces as she turns the water off. She turns, walks over to the table's left edge, and pulls a lever by the teen's waist. Julianna feels a draft of air underneath her backside.

   “You didn't think we were going to make you lie in your own personal business, did you?”, Martha inquires lovingly. Her beautiful granddaughter smiles back her thanks for the reprieve of cold well water.

   With the bowl in her left hand, Martha tucks her right hand underneath Julianna's dark hair. She lifts the girl's head enough for swallowing.

   “It tastes awful. But it works quickly. It will help to clean you out. That way you don't have to lie here all night,” the woman explains, “Plus it will help to warm you.”

   Julianna sniffs the earthly aroma of the mixture, “It d-doesn't sssmell very g-good either.”

   Martha grins, “I am surprised you can smell anything, Misses Rudolph.”

   Julianna pinches her nose closed and gags down the horrible mixture. Martha gently lays her head back down. The girl feels an immediate rush of heat pass through her body. It rides with the foreign liquid and branches itself out into all of her extremities. Her teeth stop their aching chatter.

   “Yur grams be forgettin' in her old age,” Lady Lanecia corrects.

   Julianna looks over to the woman. Her brown eyes wave and shimmer. The teen closes her eyes and reopens them. The voodoo priestess' eyes still look strange.

   “She'd be forgettin' to tell yurself about yur vision and hearin',” the woman explains, “Do not be nervous about what yurself be seein' or hearin'. It'd be from da drink.”

   “Oh my, I did forget to mention that,” Martha apologizes, “If you get scared, just close your eyes. The vision-stuff will stop. Breathe slowly and don't allow yourself to become panicked.”

   Martha release her pinned back side bangs by slipping out the tooth combs out of their positions. She pat's the girl’s left forearm with her right hand.

   “I will be here every second of every moment. You will never be alone, Julia. Always keep that in mind if you must close your eyes.”

   Julianna nods uneasily. She hesitates before speaking.

   “I love you, grams.”

   Martha kisses her granddaughter on her forehead, “I love you, too, Julia.”

   Julianna vaguely notices her grandmother pulling back to look down at her. Her body rushes with more warmth. She grins.

  
Wow, this feels pretty good.

   “Now yurself be neddin' to listen to me before ya go off into dat fairy land, Misses Julianna,” a voice sounds as though it is being filtered through an electronic synthesizer.

   “Sure thang,” Julianna slurs. She giggles.

   “I see,” Lady Lanecia looks over to Martha. The red hair woman plays dumfounded.

   “It'd be seemin' dat an old granny be forgettin' how to make da mix, too.”

    “Ah-ha-ha!”, Julianna laughs.

   Martha lifts her hands up while shrugging her shoulders at the voodoo priestess, “What?”

   The dark woman shakes her head, “I'll be a chicken's bones if I believe in yur innocence, Mrs. Martha.”

   Martha confirms with a slight grin, “Well, why not enjoy the ride if you're going to get on the train?”

   The dark woman shakes her right index finger at Martha, “Dat be no train ya put hur on, Mrs. Martha.” The woman points down to Julianna, “Dat be a drug-induced laugh machine.”

   Dat be a...”, Julianna stops to belt out another long loud laugh. The girl puts her right index finger over her mouth. “Shh...”, she giggles. Julianna regains her composure long enough to quickly speak out her new wisdom.

   “Dat be a chicken's bones laughing train machine,” the teenager laughs hysterically.

   Martha giggles. She looks back at the voodoo woman, “It might have been a little strong.”

   The priestess arches her right brow. She looks back down at the giggly girl.

   “Da Misses Julianna will calm hurself soon enough,” Lady Lanecia notes, “It is time we do our part, Mrs. Martha.”

   Martha nods and turns to retrieve the dagger lying on the floor.

  
What in the...?

   Julianna's long hair blows as the
Chicken's Bones Laughing Train Machine
speeds by her.  She closes her eyes, rubs them, and looks again. She watches bird's wings flap on the left and right sides of each rail car. The caboose travels off into the distance with its tail feathers blowing freely in the wind. She shakes her head and begins looking around as the clucking train disappears down the tracks.

   As far as her eyes can see, there is only desolation in every direction, but one. The girl with raven hair studies the scene across the tracks. She sees a train depot like those found in the old western movies. The wood used to construct it looks weathered. Its retro-style saloon doors decorate nicely the wooden walkway spanning the depot's width. She stumbles over the rail tracks when she walks in the depot's direction. The teen quickly stands up and looks around to see if anyone has witnessed her clumsiness.

  
This place is deserted. I wonder if there's a phone inside? I could call grams to come pick me up.

   The oblivious Julianna brushes the gravel off of her black low V-neck dress. She dusts her hands off while she journeys across the dual track system. The girl approaches the stairs on the left end of the wooden walkway and climbs the three short steps to the top. She walks the sixteen-foot distance and pushes open the saloon's double-swinging doors on her left.

  
No way.

   As she steps inside, she sees a beach. The surprised girl turns around. The doors to the saloon's entrance are gone. All she can see is a vast ocean of stormy black water. Lightning snakes its way into the water's distance providing a clear view of her hopeless escape.

   Julianna shivers as the cold water rushes around her bare feet. She steps backward onto the beach. Its sand warms her. The confused girl can feel the warmth of sunshine on her back. Yet the water doesn't reflect any of its light. Neither did the water’s cold temperature seem to be affected by the sun's warmth. But the worst thing of all, Julianna somehow knows without a doubt that the water is voided of any life. The teen takes a few more steps backwards before feeling safe enough to turn around. She turns and drops her shoulders in frustration.

  
Wonderful.

   The sandy white beach slopes upward slightly. It is met harshly by a massive wall. As far as Julianna can tell, the wall's height extends somewhere into the clouds above and its width spans the entire distances of the beach in both directions. She ponders which direction to take and decides it really doesn't matter. Just as she is about to wander off to her right, the girl notices odd shadowing on the wall's surface in front of her. She squints. Lacking any better option, she leaves her current place in the white sand for the charcoal-gray wall.

  
Whoa. That's beautiful. I really need to read more.

   Whenever, the teen gets closer to the wall, she sees writing carved into its surface. Julianna recognizes the innumerable amounts of strange words, symbols, and designs as belonging to the language written inside of her library. She attempts to make some sense of what she sees, but her knowledge lacks too greatly. The girl decides to admire the artwork aspect instead.

   She walks to her right while her fingers lightly graze the etchings along the way. There are systematic groupings of familiar words and images from the floors and walls in her library. They are wonderfully interwoven within a larger picturesque design. And each of the larger designs seems to be interlaced within an even more grand design than its previous.

   “It
is
quite remarkable, isn't it?”, a woman's smoky voice startles the unprepared girl.

   Julianna spins around. A woman with gorgeous sun-bronzed skin stands on the beach. Her bare feet subtly sink in just below the sand's white surface.

   “Y-yeah, it's pretty,” Julianna answers while watching the stranger closely.

   “I like to come out here. It's one of my favorite places,” the mysterious woman reveals, “I'm probably a little biased about it though.”

   Julianna grins uncomfortably while the awkward silence from her end continues to increase. She admires the woman's very long black hair as it blows with the ocean's wind. It is prepared into many small braids that dangle below her buttocks. They are tipped with red coloring like her own side-bangs. And each one appears as if they could be dancing to their own song – sung by the gentle breeze.

   “You have beautiful hair,” the woman's smoky voice admires the teen.

   Julianna nervously grins, “Thanks. You, too.”

   The woman smiles and nods respectively. Julianna is completely mesmerized by her beauty. The sixteen-year-old can't imagine anyone having the ability to stand next to her and still being able to retain their full confidence levels about themselves. She's rather certain even a Victoria's Secrets supermodel would be struggling with her own self-confidence by this woman.

    Yet the stranger isn't tall by most supermodel standards. She's only a few inches taller than Julianna. Her presence, however, is intense. Really intense. And it most definitely makes up any differences with her height. She looks a lot like Julianna with her green eyes, raven blue-black hair with red tinges, and small elfish ears. But her nose is absolutely perfect – an attribute Julianna envies.