Mother of Darkwaters: Book one of the Vessel series (46 page)

   “I know,” Martha accepts the blame for not sitting Julianna down and explaining these things better.

   “It's like I've heard you say over the years,” Frank refers to his granddaughter's ability to obtain normalcy, “Jules will never become the Mother of Darkwaters. She
is
her.”

   Martha smiles. She tugs on her husband's button-up flannel shirt, “I love you, Frank Dermott.”

   Frank leans down and kisses Martha's lips. Martha kisses him back. After their gentle pressing of their lips, Frank hugs his wife once more. He grins. He is, indeed, the lucky one in this marriage. He could have never guessed as a young man – that after all of these years – his beautiful wife would still cause him to lose his breath during their moments of intimacy. But she does. Every single time.

   “How'd you know to collect his blood with a water bottle?”, Martha question her granddaughter.

   Julianna shrugs her shoulders, “I don't know. I just knew.”

   “Not good enough,” Martha sternly criticizes, “If you hadn't of done it, Frank would have had a really hard time resetting your little crime-spree where it made any sense.”

   Julianna begins to speak, but Martha raises her right index finger in objection.

   “
I just knew
is sloppy. Not acceptable, Julia,” Martha's tone is sharp and condemning, “You didn't tell anybody what you were doing and you could have easily gotten yourself killed. Or even found yourself a tight little prison cell to live out the rest of your days before they executed you.”

    “From now on,” Martha lowers her hand, “You
will
use the Network and you will
not
go off half-cocked like you have no sense to you at all.”

   Martha refuses to give in to the saddened expression on her granddaughter's face.

   “Do we understand each other,
Mother
?”, Martha drives home her point by not showing any fear of her granddaughter's title.

   “Yes ma'am,” Julianna answers. She glances at the floor from her bed inside of the library.

   “You
do
realize,” Martha softens her tone considerably, “No one has ever found the red key, right? Its color isn't tied to any of the other books.”

   Julianna looks up. Her green eyes scan her gram's serious expression.  

   “No one is
not
me,” The teen simply states as a matter of fact before lowering her stare back down to the marble flooring.

   Martha's skin crawls with the creep factor exhibited by her granddaughter. The girl's cold and calloused tone takes her by surprise. She understands Julianna was not threatening her. But that last sentence was downright disturbing. The power which filled the room while Julia spoke was intense. It was dark. And it was real.
Very
real.

   But more than the power itself, the creep factor Martha is experiencing is from how quickly the dark presence left the room. Soon as Julia looked back down, it was gone as if it were never there at all.

   “Grams?”, Julianna's tone exhibits innocence.

   “Yes dear,” Martha attempts to shrug off her uncomfortable feelings by giving her granddaughter permission to freely speak.

   “Am I evil?”

  
Um...

   Martha has planned for all sorts of possible questions her granddaughter could possibly come up with. But this is not one of them. She's never even considered it.

   “How do you mean?”, Martha tries to buy enough time to correctly respond.

   Julianna glances up to look into her gram's eyes, “Is the God of Heaven supposed to be a good guy?”

   “Julia, dear,” Martha confesses, “I can't steer you in this. You know the penalty.”

   Martha observes the despair within her granddaughter's eyes as the young woman nods.

   “But,” Martha verbally points out a bypass within the law, “We
can
talk it out.” The older woman painfully watches as her granddaughter nods. From Julianna's expression, it is apparent she was hoping Martha would break the law for this one.

   “A lot of people believe the God of Heaven is the good guy,” Julianna begins while staring at the floor, “But the more I learn about Him...”

   Martha watches her granddaughter's eyes fill with tears. She wipes at the water falling carelessly down her face before attempting to speak again. Martha waits patiently.

   “The more I learn about Him,” Julianna pauses to sniffle, “The more I hate Him.” Julianna looks up at her grams. Her stare is cold and hard.

   “He created Lilith and demanded she accept a life of submissive rape. He watches people hate other people. And if the haters are on His side, He calls them His chosen. If they're not, He damns them to burn forever.
Forever
grams.”

   Julianna pauses with her heavy heart, “He is so cruel.”

   “Grams, I hate Him,” Julianna pleas with her eyes, “And I know I will never love Him. I can't. How am I to love someone who is like that? And because I can't do it, I am doomed to burn in His fire. Where's the fairness in all of this? If He is as good as everyone says He is, then why would He burn someone forever because they don't love Him? How can anyone even call that love?”

   “I reckon there are two questions you need to answer before you can decide whether or not you're evil,” Martha speaks up.

   Julianna listens intently for her grandmother's wisdom.

   “Do you see Lilith as evil?”, Martha gives the young woman the new questions, “Or do you see Him as evil?”

   “You know that answer,” Julianna doesn't see the wisdom she expected to find.

   “If you say the God of Heaven is evil and you hate Him for it,” Martha pushes further, “Then how can you consider yourself to be evil when you don't follow Him?”

   Julianna considers the woman's words.

   “There's more to it than that,” Julianna counters her grandmother's simplistic reasoning.

   “I'm still here,” Martha answers.

   “Promise you won't judge?”, Julianna gives her only condition.

   “I would never,” Martha responds, “Besides, I'm an old slut from way back. I'm the last one in this room who could ever pass judgment. ”

   “Grams, that's gross,” Julianna answers before using her palm to wipe her runny nose.

   “No dear,” Martha counters while walking over to Julianna's desk to grab a box of tissues, “Snotty hands are gross. Enjoying sex is just part of growing up.” She turns, walks over to Julianna's bed, and hands the girl the box.  

   “The truth's the truth, dear,” Martha steps back to give her granddaughter some space, “No matter how much we might not like hearing it. So let's have it. Your old grams is ready.”

   Julianna takes a nervous breath before exhaling.

   “Okay,” Julianna signals she will tell her story, “Last night at dinner, I saw a necklace around Matt's neck. I asked him to show it to me and it had a silver cross with Jesus crucified on it.” Julianna stops and looks away.

   “Julia,” Martha quietly speaks, “I am
not
going to judge you. It's okay, sweetie. You can tell me anything.”

   “Johnathan had a necklace just like it,” Julianna explains, “But his was made of wood with silver ends on the cross.”

   “Go on,” Martha coaches.

   “I asked him if he believed in the God of Heaven and why,” Julianna revisits the moment, “He said he did and his reasons were because that the God of Heaven was kind, full of love, compassionate, and merciful.”

   “The more he talked,” Julianna continues as her stare begins to fill with spitefulness, “The more I wanted to watch him bleed like his Jesus.”

   Martha takes a nervous breath as she patiently awaits the rest of her granddaughter’s recounting of last night's events.

   Julianna's brows narrow, “I enjoyed slicing through his throat. The surprise on his face and the thought of me lashing out against the God of Heaven caused me to have a reaction.”

   “What kind of reaction, dear?”, Martha isn't sure where her granddaughter is trying to go with this. The hatred dancing within the young woman's eyes has her somewhat off kilter.

   “You know,” Julianna relaxes her brows. She continues with a quieter voice, “A reaction.”

   “No, I don't,” Martha follows her granddaughter's eyes downward.

   “Oh!”, Martha's mental light bulb illuminates. Her new insight causes her to laugh.

   “Is
that
why you think you are evil?”, Martha questions within her laughter.

   “Let me tell you something, Julia,” Martha smiles widely, “If having an orgasm is evil, then your grams here would cause flowers to wilt and die whenever she walked by them.” 

   “It's not funny,” Julianna chastises.

   “I know you're a virgin,” Martha ignores Julianna's embarrassment, “And that's not anything to be ashamed of. Neither is having an orgasm.”

   Julianna sighs within her frustration, “But I did it when I attacked the God of Heaven by killing Matt.”  

   “In three words,” Martha redirects her granddaughter's thoughts, “Tell me how you feel about the God of Heaven.”

   “Uh,” Julianna struggles momentarily before settling on three words, “Disgusting, cruel, and evil.”

   “And what about someone who would love Him?”

   “The same,” Julianna answers.

   “Do you feel any remorse for sending that boy to his God?”

   “No,” Julianna confesses honestly, “I think they deserve each other.”

   “But you feel remorse for having an orgasm while doing it?”

   “I guess so,” Julianna begins losing her self-confidence.

   “I know you had no one to discuss these things while growing up,” Martha moves the conversation forward, “But now you do. And now's the time to find out what it means to be a woman and how that can relate to her sexuality.”

   “Did you enjoy it?”, Martha questions.

   “Killing Matt?”, Julianna seems appalled by the question.

   “No, Julia,” Martha sticks to the topic.

   “Fine,” Julianna returns to her gram's inquisition, “I liked it.”

   “But whenever you combine all of these things into one basket,” Martha continues onward, “You suddenly feel evil. Is that about right?”

   “I guess.”

   “If you ask me, you're not evil at all, Julia. You're just having an issue with separating a problem into its smaller parts.”

   Martha attempts to lighten up the atmospheric tone a bit.

   “Listen, dear. You can view yourself as the new sheriff of hell if you want to. That's your choice. But I, personally, believe you are just a woman who is called and blessed to do great things.”

   Julianna watches her grams shrug her shoulders.

   “But then again,” Martha finishes her thought, “I am your grandmother. So I'm probably a bit biased about you still being a human and all.”

   Julianna attempts a faked smile.

   “What's wrong, dear?”, Martha doesn't understand the worrisome look, “It was only an orgasm. Get over it.”

   “No,” Julianna shakes her head, “It's not that.” She looks questioningly at her grandmother.

   “What am I supposed to do when you kick me out of your house?”

   “What?”, Martha is surprised by the accusation, “I'm not kicking you out. I would never do something horrible like that. Why would you...?”

   Martha catches on, “Oh - your house. No. I just wanted you to know it existed for whenever you
are
ready to leave. I 'm not kicking you out of here. Don't you believe that for another second, Julianna Cora Atwood.”

   “I just thought you were trying to tell me to move out.”

   “Have I ever come across as a person who is unable to say what's on her mind?”

   Julianna grins, “No.”

   “Well,” Martha speaks, “I do believe that settles it then.”

   Martha points towards the stairs leading up to the library's first floor.

   “I'm going upstairs to make Frank some dinner. You want to eat with us tonight?”

   “Already ate. I'll make something if I get hungry again.”

   “You sure?”, Martha questions, “Last chance?”

   “I'm sure, grams. But thanks anyway.”

   “Alright. Let me get out of your hair,” Martha heads towards the stairs.

   Julianna waits a few seconds before quietly walking up the staircase behind Martha. When she gains eye view of her grams, she patiently watches until Martha exits into the hall of candelabras. Julianna turns and excitedly descends the stairs back into her room.

   She thought her grams was never going to leave. Granted, Julianna had expected this talk a week ago. So it was kind of difficult for her to dismiss her gram's recent scolding. She knew she had it coming and was actually a little surprised Martha gave her as much time as she did before bringing it up. But now it's over and Julianna can, finally, get to the task at hand.

   She stops by the white oak mini tree and retrieves all of her necklaces. She places them all around her neck and heads down the hallway leading to the colorful doors. Turning left at the T-intersection at the hall's end, Julianna stops at the first door on the right. The blue door is positioned directly across from the white room where Martha first introduced her to her mom's diary. She looks downward and takes hold of her family's amulet. 

   “Gariatu Estidium Merné,” Julianna quietly whispers with reverence. She turns the amulet over and slips out the blue key. Slipping the key into the lock of the blue door, Julianna turns it to the right. When she opens the door, she pulls the key back out and places it back into its rightful place within the black onyx amulet.

  
Click.

  Dim blue lighting illuminates the room as Julianna's left hand flips the wall's light switch at the right of the door. She steps inside, turns and latches the door closed, then walks over to the desk positioned by the room's light switch. She opens the top left drawer and pulls out a bottle premixed with the herbal concoction she made a couple of months ago. Opening the lid, Julianna's face reacts as she takes a sniff.