The Stone of Blood (21 page)

“He was a Prince du sang?” I read again, this time out loud, and I quickly looked up its meaning. “A
Prince du sang
–
was a
‘prince of blood’!”

“He was a Prince of Blood!” I gasped.

“A ‘prince of blood’ was a person who was legitimately descended in the male line from the monarch of a country. In
France
, the rank of ‘prince du sang’ was the highest held at court after the immediate family of the king during the ancient régime and the Bourbon Restoration. A ‘prince du sang’ or a ‘princesse du sang’ had to be a legitimate member of the reigning dynasty (after 1589, the House of Bourbon). In some European monarchies, but especially, in the
kingdom
of
France
, this title was a specific rank in its own right.”

“Son!” Mama called to me from the stairway as I jumped at her voice!

“Yes Ma’am?” I answered back.

“It’s time to be gettin’ to bed. We’ve got an early day tomorrow. We’ve got to go to town in the morning.” She continued. “So you need to turn out the light and get some sleep!”

“Okay Mom!” I replied as I closed my books and turned off my lamps light.

But I didn’t get any sleep at all. I mean how could I go to sleep with all that was goin’ on? All that I had been learnin’ about and everything that had been happenin’ to me was runnin’ around and through my head at about a million miles an hour!

Lystra! The Prince of Blood! The church bell!

Could the bell of St Joe’s be the one from my vision?

I would have to see it for myself!

I wondered if I could get my mom to drop me off at the Library tomorrow. I’d have a better chance of her droppin’ me off there than at the church I guessed. Cause she would never let me climb up there into the bell tower! No sir! But I would have to see it!

I mean I didn’t know what seein’ it would do to help me figure out about the cave at the rock quarry or the ghost in our barn, but I guessed that I had to start somewhere.

I did have a map of our town in my desk drawer. That would help. I’d just need to make sure and remember to take it with me in the mornin’; with a pencil and a piece of paper for takin’ notes.

I lay there in the darkness for what seemed like hours, just listenin’ to the sounds comin’ in from my window.

Mama says that most people don’t get the luxury of listenin’ to crickets and bull frogs at night from right outside of their windows like we do. But I would have given practically anythin’ right then to have been able to have given that luxury away! And to have just had some peace and quiet!

I couldn’t sleep at all, so I sneaked out my flashlight and I looked up one last subject for the night …“
Werewolf”
. “
A
werewolf
, also known as a lycanthrope, is a mythological or folkloric human with the ability to shape shift into a wolf or a wolf-like creature, either purposely by being bitten by another ‘werewolf’, or after being placed under a curse. This transformation is often associated with the appearance of a full moon.
”

“…either …by bein’ bitten by another werewolf, or after bein’ placed under a curse.”
I read again and whispered to myself.
“…a curse.”

My mind raced with the possibilities of what those last few words upon the pages of that book might mean! Could there have been a
curse
placed upon these people? Could a curse be the link that was tyin’ all of these people, places and events together?

Outside of my window the sounds of dogs barkin’ echoed through the night air and made me shut off my flashlight quickly! And I lie there listenin’ attentively, almost without breathin’ for a while!

I wondered what they were barkin’ at. But the long weepin’ sound of the lonesome wolf’s howl that followed silenced my questionin’ thoughts!

I pulled my covers up over my head! And I lay there in the darkness and security of my blanket for a very long time, even after the sounds had stopped and I had fallen fast asleep.

And I remained there completely covered up until early the next mornin’, long after the sun had come up and the new day had dawned.

Thirteen

Essence of the Past

T
ime begins for each of us at the moment of our birth. The concept of that which occurred prior to it appears trivial and devoid of meanin’. The illusion bein’ that time is a constant, movin’ perpetually forward in a straight line. When in actuality, time progresses in a sequentially circular motion …intertwined with spiralin’ complexity; thereby allowin’ those things that were, to once again become the things that are …thus allowin’ history to repeat itself.

This was the way I really thought about things. And I was proud of myself for thinkin’ it! But sometimes, when I thought about it further …I wondered how I was even able to get myself up out of the bed in the mornin’!

If you heard tale of it from my sister, bein’ able to get up out of bed by myself wasn’t somethin’ that I was quite capable of doin’, unless she was there pullin’ me out of it as I was holdin’ on to my covers for dear life, with her draggin’ me across the floor! But thankfully, that only seemed to happen durin’ the school mornin’s when there was only a limited amount of time for me to get myself up and ready to catch the school bus! I usually got up just in time to catch it as it was comin’ down the road!

Mama dropped me off in town by the Library that mornin’. It was the great big fat building that sat in our town square, next to the Talbott Tavern and right across from our
County
Courthouse
. The buildin’ looked like it had just eaten a great big bologna sandwich or somethin’ and had just plopped itself down on the corner of the street awhile so it could rest itself!

Mama had to run some errands and she instructed me to wait for her there. An instruction …I had every intention of doin’!

“I’ll be back to pick you up in about an hour.” Mama told me. “You don’t leave the Library to go anyplace else. You understand me? I will be waitin’ for you right out here in one of these parking spaces when you come out.”

“Okay Mom.” I said as I closed the car door. “I’ll see ya’ll in a little while.”

I watched her drive away in our white Chevy Malibu as both she and my little sister waved goodbye. And I watched em’ as they drove around the Courthouse and then as they headed straight up
Main Street
. I watched em’ until I saw em’ drive right out of sight.

And once I knew for certain that they were actually gone and I couldn’t see em’ no more, well …I lit out as fast as greased lightenin’ down the street towards St. Joe Church!

I really didn’t lie. I mean, I hadn’t actually gone ‘
in
’ to the Library; therefore I
really
couldn’t ‘
leave it
’ to go anyplace else. So it really …wasn’t even disobeyin’! At least that’s the way it made sense to me in my head! I knew it was a technicality and all, and that I’d probably get into a whole passel of trouble if anyone ever found out about it, but it seemed like a logical way to think through a difficult situation at the time! Unless of course if my mama was to find out!

And I did have every intention of waiting at the Library for her when she got back, I really did!

I was just gonna do that part once I’d got back!

As I made my way down the sidewalk to the church, I quickly discovered that things on a map aren’t as
all fired
close to one another as they seem on a piece of paper! Especially when you’re actually standin’ one place and you’re tryin’ to get to someplace else! The church was clearly two and a half blocks away from where the Library was and even by my runnin’ like a dog down the
friggin’
street, it still took me a couple of minutes to get there! I had to stop and stuff and catch my breath and all, you know? And there
were
grownups lookin’ at me funny and stuff too!

I only hoped that my mama didn’t come back around the block to check on me, while I was high tailin’ it down the street! I mean she had raised me and all, so she knew very well what I was capable of doin’! I’d guess that of anyone else on the planet she’d probably be the one who knew me the best, maybe even better that I knew myself!

I made it past the two stop light crossin’s and I ran right up to the front of the church by way of the wide concrete walkway that was laid out between the two giant statues; images carved in stone of Bardstown’s Bishops: Flaget and Spalding. These statues were always kind of scary lookin’ to me, I guess cause they were wearin’ those funny lookin’ pointed hats.

I wondered if they were actually that tall in real life. Cause they were alot bigger than I was! And I also wondered why the statues had been made in the first place! “
I mean, doesn’t God say in the bible that we shouldn’t make for ourselves any graven images?
” I thought to myself.

The 2
^nd
Commandment from Exodus 20:4-6 You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my Commandments.”

I guess I needed to look that up! Maybe the
Catholic Bible
was different than everybody else’s?

I didn’t know for sure. I just knew that I wasn’t gonna kneel or bow down to any statues! Let alone kiss the feet of a statue like I heard they do to the one they call St. Peter!

“
Doesn’t God tell us that we are all Saints?
” I wondered. “
So why exactly do Catholics pray to regular people?”
I guessed that was a question for another time.