Escaping Fate (13 page)

We talked a little longer, but my mood
put a damper on the night and Tanner offered to take me home. I
wanted more than anything to slide over next to him when we got in
the truck and ask him to put his arm around me again. But even in
my funk I was well aware of the impression that would give him. I
was forced to settle for a hug that didn’t last long enough when we
got back to my house. The worst part was seeing the worried look on
Tanner’s face when I finally said goodbye.

Pushing into the house well after dark,
I was surprised to find my dad waiting for me in the living room.
Tanner drifted to the back of my mind. My dad’s expression was odd.
I didn’t know what it meant. I dropped the backpack I had taken
with me to my grandpa’s on the floor and went to sit by my dad on
the sofa.

“Grandpa called you didn’t he?” I
asked, wondering if I was in trouble for being gone so
long.

“Of course,” my dad reassured me.
“Grandpa called after lunch and told us where you were going. You
stayed out a little longer than I expected, but I’m glad you’re
making friends. You should invite Tanner over some time. I’d like
to meet the boy that has my daughter so captivated.”

“Dad,” I whined, “we’re just
friends.”

“Alright, alright, maybe your mother
can just invite his whole family over for dinner this weekend,” my
dad said casually.

“You’re impossible.” I wished Tanner
were the most important thing on my mind right now. I felt bad
encouraging him when I might not be able to continue the
relationship past Friday, but I couldn’t bring myself to stay away
from him. Every minute spent with Tanner was time I did not have to
spend worrying about dreams and photographs.

“Are you doing alright, honey?” my dad
asked, watching my expression carefully. “I know this move hasn’t
been easy for you, but I’m glad you’ve been spending time with my
dad. He’s really missed having the family around. I really
appreciate that you want to spend time with him.” He paused again
to look at me more closely. I tried to smile for him, hiding the
pain I was feeling. He frowned at my failed attempt, but said
nothing.

“Did you eat yet?” he asked me. I
nodded that I had and smiled in earnest. Dinner had been wonderful
and Tanner walking me up to house even better. I could still feel
the warmth of his body against mine.

“What did you do with grandpa this
morning?” my dad asked, breaking into my thoughts. “He couldn’t
have been telling stories the whole time.”

“We talked about family mostly. He told
me a lot about his sister and Katie,” I said. My dad looked away
from me at the mention of his sister. “Do you ever worry that the
same thing will happen to me, Dad?”

“No of course not,” he said. I could
see the lie blatantly on his face. “What happened to Katie was just
an accident. Nothing is going to happen to you, Arra. Don’t worry
about things like that. You don’t need to.”

“I wish I could have met her,” I said
as I nestled into my dad’s waiting arms.

“I wish you could have too,” he said
with a smile. “You two would have gotten along wonderfully. You
remind me of her in more ways than just your looks.” He stroked my
hair and kissed the top of my head. “She was very outgoing and
friendly. She was always stirring things up, but she was a joy to
be around.”

“You really miss her, don’t
you?”

“Yes, I do. We were very close growing
up. I know it’s been a long time since she died, but I’ve never
missed her any less over the years.” I looked up at him with
sadness in my eyes. Was he going to carrying around his misplaced
guilt for the rest of his life? I wished I could explain to him
that Katie’s death had nothing to do with him, but I knew he would
just dismiss it as one of his dad’s stories.

“The pain of losing Katie lessened
slowly, but I’ll always miss her,” he said.

I bit my bottom lip. I wanted to ask my
dad about Katie's death. I wanted to hear everything he remembered.
The smallest detail might mean the difference. There was so little
time left for me. I decided to risk getting a similar reaction when
I had asked about the pictures on the slim hope that he might give
me some new insight.

“Do you remember the day she died?” I
asked quietly.

My dad’s arm tightened around me and he
did not answer right away. Fearing our talk would end up just like
the conversation at lunch I desperately tried to think of something
to say, some way to take the question back.

“I remember every detail of that day,”
he said. “Why all the questions about Katie? It’s not exactly a
topic I like to discuss.”

“I just want to know about her. I
didn’t even know I had an aunt until I found her picture,” I said,
feeling a little irritated with my dad’s desire to avoid answering
my questions. “I just don’t like that I never knew about her. Don’t
you think you might feel better if you talked about her more
often?”

Smiling at me in a way that suggested
he thought my idea was naïve, he said, “Maybe that would be true if
I didn’t feel so responsible for what happened.”

“Dad, it wasn’t your fault,” I said
with conviction.

“I know it could have happened to
anyone, but it didn’t. It’s just not as simple as saying it wasn’t
my fault,” he said, taking his arm off my shoulders. “Now why don’t
you head to bed? You look tired, and so am I.”

I sighed disappointedly. I would get no
help from him tonight. He just didn’t understand. Standing up next
to him, I reached out for a hug and was received immediately.
“Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, Arra. I’ll see you in the
morning.”

I stayed in the living room for a while
after my dad went to bed. My mom had done some work on the photo
albums this afternoon. She had already taken care of the extra mess
I had created. I noticed a stack of photos lying on top of my
forgotten novel. Reaching out, I picked them up and saw Katie’s
face staring up at me. My mom had done this despite her irritation
at me after upsetting my dad. Maybe she understood too that Katie
should still be a part of our family. Very little escaped my mom’s
noticed. Silently I thanked her for the thought and carried the
pictures with me to my rom.

Anxious for the somewhat unnerving day
to end, I feared falling asleep. I had been scared of the dreams
before talking to my grandpa, when they were meaningless images
playing in my mind. Now, I knew that the dreams and the dead women
were impossible to separate. There was no doubt in my mind that the
dream girl was Kivera and that the dreams would soon fully reveal
her fate. Again I felt that I would rather not know. That knowing
would do little to help.

But even as I thought this, I knew that
I would continue seeking the truth. I could not let go of the idea
that I might be saved. If I let go of that hope I would lend myself
to despair and confirm my fate. I had to keep going.

Fighting back the desperation I was
feeling, I slipped into my bed still wearing that day’s clothes. My
hands trembled as I pulled the blanket up to my chest. I forced my
eyes to close and waited for sleep and for the dreams to
begin.

Chapter Sixteen

A withered and bent attendant waved a
burning herb sprig beneath the fallen girl’s nose. Her eyes
fluttered open and she coughed violently in reaction to the
terrible smell. Looking up at the priest, she had to take several
deep breaths to keep from fainting again. His disdain for her
weakness and cowardice showed plainly on his scarred
face.

She shivered under his gaze. Staring at
his grotesque face, she made no move to rise. He was missing one of
his eyes. Both ears had been partially cut away and now ended in
clotted scar tissue. There were rings and jewels pierced through
what remained of his marred ears. The gold and jewels sparkled in
the morning sun and mocked the hideousness of his misshapen body.
The man slowly backed away, a sick smile plastered across his
face.

The chief priest was dressed in full
ceremonial clothing, the tall wooden mask hiding his features from
view. He approached the quivering girl slowly. His hand shot to her
face, touching her cheek softly, almost in a caress. She pulled
away, confused at his gentleness, fearful of what it might
mean.

Anger flashed in his eyes, the only
part of his face visible through the mask. Clenching his fist, a
snarl sliced through his teeth. Quickly the priest grew impatient
with the cowering girl and motioned sharply for her to rise.
Sobbing uncontrollably, her fear told her to stay, but she rose
regardless of her sobbing. She no longer tried to hide her hatred
and anger. It flowed freely with her tears.

The priest stood in front of the girl
and walked towards her, forcing her to back against the stone
altar. The ragged stone bit into her legs and she faltered, falling
to her knees sobbing even harder. Her whole body convulsed with the
sobs.

The priest’s face clouded in rage. He
turned to face the guards waiting several feet away. Their faces
were stone like, but the eyes betrayed their disgust for their
charge. The priest’s smooth arm directed the guards to a small
stone table next to the altar. The guards knew what was required of
them and went to the table.

The table held the instruments
necessary for completing the ritual. A small grate with a fire
underneath it occupied the center of the table. A knife made of
sharpened obsidian was to the right of the grate and a clay bowl
filled with water sat just above the knife. The guards moved to the
left side of the table where two pairs of thick gloves
waited.

The guards pulled the gloves onto their
hands and moved back towards the crying girl. Since she was
unwilling to perform the necessary steps the guards were required
to assist her, but not touch her directly. The girl could not be
given unclean.

Stoically, the two men lifted the
girl’s body, their hands shielded from direct contact with her skin
by the oiled cloth gloves. She did not fight their strong hands.
She cried and muttered despairing pleas for help. Depositing her on
the stone altar, they back away slowly. The men surrounding her
ignored her words and began to tie her body down to the altar with
thick leather bands.

***

Coming back to my own time, I felt the
tears running down my face again. I opened my eyes to a room still
blanketed in darkness. Wiping my tears away, my heart and mind
ached. I felt so sorry for the girl, but I pushed the feeling away,
reaching instead for anger.

When the dreams had begun they were
just sad strange images, now they meant so much more. I knew that
the girl was Kivera. It could be no one else. Watching Kivera being
forced to the temple to be sacrificed was horrible, but the more I
knew about this strange girl, the more mottled my feelings
became.

I pitied Kivera’s fate, but hated her,
too. I still did not know what the girl had done to bring the curse
on my family, but I knew that Kivera was the cause. That thought
made my insides boil with anger. I thought of the faces of the dead
girls. Dead because of Kivera. I hated Kivera in that moment. I
made a promise to myself that I would not fall victim to the
vicious machinations of a selfish child.

My anger kept me awake for several
hours. Imagining every possible scenario that I could devise to
explain the curse, I made plans for each possibility in hopes of
keeping myself alive. Never terribly imaginative, I was surprised
by the long list I was able to come up with. Wondering and
planning, I tried to prepare myself until my eyelids began to
droop.

In the dark of early morning, I felt
that I was beginning to understand the situation, but as I awoke
hours later to morning’s clarifying light, I knew I was still as
confused and helpless as before. The only thing I knew for sure was
that I needed more information and that I needed help to get it.
Today was my last chance to make a difference in my own
fate.

Chapter Seventeen

I showered expecting it to revitalize
my body, but I was still exhausted as I dressed. Wandering into the
kitchen for breakfast, I was greeted by my cheerful mother. As soon
as my mom saw me, her face wrinkled into a worried
frown.

“Are you okay, Arra?” she asked me.
“You don’t look very well. Are you getting sick? You were out too
late last night. What was your grandfather thinking, just letting
you wander off.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” I said, rubbing my
face. “I just didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll be fine. I’m still
getting used to the new house and everything.” I knew it was a lie,
but one my mom would surely believe.

My mom smiled with understanding. “Oh,
Arra, it will take a while to adjust. But, I’m glad you’re trying.
I know you miss your old life and friends.”

I had not really thought about
Manhattan in quite a while. Right now roadside markets and taxi
rides were far from my mind. I realized now how insignificant my
complaints had been, how superficial and meaningless refusing to
unpack my room had been.

I had become so involved with trying to
keep myself from being engulfed by an ancient fate that I had
barely considered the unhappiness I had felt about living in the
new small town. It hardly mattered any more anyway. In fact I was
glad we had come here, glad that my grandpa was near me, especially
glad that I had met Tanner. I could not help smirking at the change
I felt.