The Awakening

Crazy. Certainly. But her fear of him was now real.

"Megan, you love that young man. It's my suggestion that you do whatever you have to do workwise, and get yourselves home, and to a marriage counselor," Martha said. "I mean… this work is important to both of you, right?"

"Absolutely!" Megan said. "Oh, Aunt Martha, I have no intention of not showing up for work. It's just…"

She didn't want to tell Martha that it was really just at night when things became so very weird. "I need a little distance during our off hours."

"Um. Well, you be careful coming and going from that hotel alone at those wee hours, Megan.

Unfortunately, the world has its share of maniacs. Did you read about that poor girl they found the other day? Missing almost a month… then her body shows up. The killer disposed of her in water, a good way to hide a lot of evidence." She made a face. "I like to watch forensic shows when I'm knitting. HBO does some great stuff on autopsies."

Megan arched a brow trying to imagine Martha intently staring at the screen during human dissections.

She lowered her head, hiding a small smile.

"I promise, I'll be careful. You're sure you don't mind me taking your car? I can rent one, you know."

"Good heavens, there's still the old truck in the barn if I need transportation. You're more than welcome to the car. But, honey, be careful with what you're doing. Morwenna's Tarot cards are a bunch of—do excuse the language—pure crap. Don't go ruining your life with a man who is just perfect for you because of a bunch of would-be magicians!"

"Thanks, Aunt Martha."

"The house phone is ringing," Martha murmured. She stared at Megan. "Now, I'll let him know that he's not welcome here at the moment, but if he wants to know that you're alive and well, I intend to tell him, and if he feels the need to speak with me, well, I want you to know that I'll listen to him."

Megan smiled. "Of course. I love him, Aunt Martha. I just don't know what's happening."

Martha rose to answer the phone.

She returned a moment later. Megan arched a brow to her.

"No, dear, it wasn't Finn."

"Oh."

Aunt Martha chuckled softly. "It was just a telemarketer, trying to sell one of those publishers series of books."

"On what?"

"What else? It's Halloween season. The history of witchcraft!"

Finn hesitated on the street for a long time, staring at the shop window.

At last, he determined to go in.

Sara was on guard duty at the doorstep. She looked at Finn warily.

"Is it busy in there?" he asked.

"What do you think? But you can go on in. You're family." She said the last as if she were mimicking Morwenna.

"Thanks." He walked by her. Joseph was behind the counter. Morwenna was showing someone capes.

Jamie Gray was busy adjusting the store logo T-shirts on the shelves.

Morwenna saw him from her position near the beaded partition to the back. She smiled and waved enthusiastically. He realized as she did so that Megan hadn't come to her shop.

He looked at a display shelf full of dragons, but this time, refrained from touching. A minute later, Morwenna came up to him, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's my cousin?" she asked.

"I was hoping you would know," he said honestly.

Morwenna frowned. If nothing else, she was a good actress. "You've lost her? In Salem? It's not that big a place," she teased.

"She hasn't been here, I take it."

Morwenna shook her head. "Is something wrong?"

He didn't mean to hesitate, but he did. "No, nothing."

Morwenna studied him gravely. "Finn… I have a good friend here who owns a really great bookstore, and… he thinks that something is going on. And that you're the key to it."

"Something is going on, and I'm the key to it?" he repeated.

Morwenna sighed. "I can hear it in your voice, you're not about to believe anything that I say. Finn…

haven't you felt… strange, at times? Joseph and I were commenting on the nights lately. We have fog here a lot, but… not like the fog we've had lately."

"I agree, weird fog, a weather phenomena," he said.

Morwenna studied him for a minute, then rushed in, "Wiccans are good, Finn. I swear. And intuitive, and… there's a feeling that something that isn't good is going on. Eddie started telling me about an old story he found in a diary, about a group— not of Wiccans!—but of Satanists who were at it here once, years and years ago, a few centuries ago, actually—"

"And they weren't burned at the stake?"

"No one was burned at the stake here, Finn. They were hanged; Giles Corey was pressed to death. Of course, others accused of witchcraft were also executed in the colonies, but the 'hysteria' always refers to that one time—"

"I know all that, Morwenna. My point is, how would Satanists rise in a place where the populace was being arrested right and left for 'spectral' evidence and any other flimsy excuse?"

"That was the perfect time, right after, don't you see? The people were horrified about what had happened within the past decade. No one at that time would have thought of openly accusing someone of witchcraft again. The community was embarrassed. Many were appalled. So if something came up…

well, according to Eddie, the people who knew about it simply took care of it all on their own. And that's why it's not in most history books."

He was startled when someone spoke softly behind him. "She left you, didn't she?"

He spun around. Sara, who else?

"My relationship with my wife isn't really your concern, is it?"

"People are trying to help you. Though I don't know why."

"I don't think it's your help that I need. What I need is for people to quit telling Megan stories that give her terrible dreams."

"Finn, I know you don't believe… well, in us," Morwenna said. "You won't allow yourself to believe that there is anything in the world that you can't touch, and understand."

Angrily, he took two steps toward the display of herbs. "Keep this in my pocket—and money will come?

Light some kind of incense, and my love life will improve? No, I'm sorry. Worship a tree? You know what I do believe? That there is one God, a supreme power. And—"

"If there is a god, one God, a supreme power, then what else may be true, Finn? A God, angels, and perhaps an angel that was cast from Heaven. Forces of good, and evil. Have you ever read the Old Testament, actually read it? Did an angel come down and speak to Mary? If you believe in any of these things, Finn, then you must understand that there can be forces of good as well as evil."

"Why don't we just run out on the street and start arresting people again—since there can be those forces of good and evil?" he countered.

"He can't be helped," Sara said.

Finn hesitated. The women were both staring at him so seriously. But there was Sara again, with that strange tension about her, as if she despised him, but could barely keep her hands off him. And God help him, there was that tension in him in return. He gritted his teeth. Every muscle in his body was painfully constricted. He needed to run out of the shop, to get as far away from her as he could.

He looked at Morwenna, who was staring at him so intently. Forces of good and evil. So, do you really want to help me, or seal the lid on my coffin ? Are you doing your best to make sure that Megan stays as far away from me as possible?

"Finn, you should come with me to see Eddie. Just come with me, and look at some of the books he has."

He had to get out of the shop. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Sara's cleavage. If they were alone together…

He would want to pounce, drag her down, and everything would be rough; he wanted to taste her mouth with its bizarrely red lipstick, rip off her clothing, ground into her against the hard floor, the walls…

And all at the same time, he wanted his wife back.

He had to get out. Had to. He was a fool. There was no way to trust Morwenna.

He fought every bizarre urge that seemed to have possessed him, so tense he could barely speak or move. "Morwenna, thank you. I'll call you later. Maybe we'll see this friend of yours, Eddie."

"Anytime, Finn. I don't care how busy the place is. I'll go with you. Please… open your mind Finn. For yourself, and for Megan."

"I'll try, Morwenna. Hey, all right… sometime. We'll go see this guy. I like books, any books. Can't hurt, right?"

He turned and started out. Joseph was behind the counter, without any customers at the moment. He had spread out the morning paper, and was reading intensely. He looked up as Finn started out.

"Hey, Joseph."

Joseph didn't reply. He was staring at him, as if he could look beneath Finn's skin, and see something inside him. An answer he was seeking.

"Finn… you went through Boston, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we flew in through Boston, why?"

Joseph shook his head. "No… before. When you went to see Megan's folks in Maine when she was staying with them. Last month. You drove up the coast, right?"

" Yeah," he said slowly, wondering what Joseph was getting at.

"Ever go to a bar called the Lobster's Tale?"

"The Lobster's Tale?" Finn shrugged. He was tempted to tell Joseph that it was none of his business. He might have wondered why Joseph knew his every move when he had driven up to Maine to find his wife and repair his marriage, but that would have been ridiculous. Megan's parents knew every move he had made. Her father had seemed happy that the two had settled their differences, and he imagined that Megan's mother had told her sister, her sister had told Morwenna, her daughter, and Morwenna had told Joseph. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">