The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (9 page)

Back at the hotel Dad quickly got on the phone
with Mom.  They spoke for about half an hour before he handed the phone to
me. “She wants to talk to you, hon.”

“Hi Mom,” my voice quivered. I felt so anxious
about this thing with Grandma and was really missing Mom.

“Hi, baby.” Her voice sounded so close. “Things
are pretty confusing there, huh?”

“Mom, you have no idea, I mean you
really
have no idea,” I hoped my tone would get the message across that there was much
more going on than what she was being told.

“More than this investigation?” She picked up on
my clue.

“Yes,” I mumbled.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“Not really, not yet.”

“Hmm, are you ok though?”

“Yes, there’s a lot going on Mom, it’s
crazy.”  I tried to choke back the emotion in my voice.

“Well then it’s probably good you’ll be coming
home.  How are you feeling about flying alone? Worried?”

“Honestly Mom, I think I should stay with
Dad.  This whole thing about Grandma is wearing on him, I can see it. Plus
I’ve only seen Grandpa one time and I promised him I’d visit again and there’s
some other stuff going on.”  I rambled on for another ten minutes about
all the reasons why I needed to stay – but at the same time leaving out the
real reasons I needed to stay.  Part of me wanted to go home so bad. 
It was starting to feel like I’d been here forever.  I missed Mom, my
friends, my own bed, my life.

“I think you’re the best judge of where you need
to be right now, honey, and if it’s there, well then, that’s where you should
be.  I’ll call the school and let them know.  I’m glad you’ll be with
Dad.  Losing his mom was bad enough but now having to deal with this…it’s
going to be hard on him.  I love you so much for recognizing that. 
You’re growing up to be an amazing young woman.”

I held onto the phone imagining it was Mom. 
This time away from her made me appreciate the kind of woman she was, the kind
of mom she was.  After a long good-bye I finally turned the phone over to
Dad who dialed the airlines and postponed our flight.

After we unpacked, Dad suggested that I lie down
and relax before I got together with Kelleigh, Quinn, and Bram.  We were
both exhausted, especially Dad.  The news about his mother had really
wiped him out.  As I watched him sleep I felt myself begin to drift off.

The dusky sunset had transformed the sky into a
palette of purples, reds, and pinks.  The colors were vibrant and
fluorescent.  I stood in the middle of the clearing in the forest. 
The trees became luminous with the crimson light dancing upon their branches,
the forest floor giving way to long, twisting shadows of gray and indigo. 

The breeze picked up and spun the dry cracked
leaves way up into the fading light.  My shadow stood tall and long,
lengthening into the depths of the forest, crawling over boulders and fallen
trees, finally setting anchor on a tall evergreen.  The sounds of the
woods became amplified with the setting sun.  I raised my arms and began
spinning slowly in the clearing.  I began to mumble an incoherent
chant.  As the light faded, the face of the forest changed, from red and
purple and pink to emerald green, indigo, and pitch black.  The shadows
grew small and disappeared, only to be replaced by deformed shapes and angles.

 In the middle I stood, still spinning,
arms extended.  Then slowly, one by one, the brethren of the forest, the
keepers of the woods, appeared.  Each one took its place in the clearing,
one to the north, one to the south, one to the east, and finally, the large
gray to the west.  I stopped spinning and began my transformation.  I
stood in the center of the circle and in unison we sang the song of the night,
the howls of unity, the song of transformation; and overhead, a screech pierced
the night.

I opened my eyes and focused them across the room
on Dad, still lying on his bed, snoring deeply.  I looked at the clock…I’d
only been out for fifteen minutes.  It felt much longer.  I sat up
and took note of this newest dream.  It was definitely Killarney Park, the
clearing where I had my first
changing
experience.  The gray wolf
was there, along with three others and the screeching bird overhead.  This
time there was no sense of urgency, but one of camaraderie, of being a part of
this pack.  It was already beginning to fade from my memory, try as I
might to recall each and every detail.

Waiting for Dad to wake up gave me time to sort through
my thoughts.  First thing on my mind was Grandma Shannah and the
investigation.  I couldn’t believe police would get involved in the death
of an elderly woman without a pretty serious reason.  There must be cases
of people who appear fine one day then become ill and die the next.  Then
there was the whole situation with Dad and Grandpa and the fact that the two of
them hadn’t spoken to each other for years.  And what about the torn
family portrait I saw at Grandpa’s house? Who was the other child in the
picture?  Did Dad have a sibling, and where was he or she now? 

 Then there were the two times I had seen the
flash of movement, once at the hotel and once at Eagan’s house. Did that have
anything to do with this and, if so, what? And if all that weren’t enough, what
was happening to me physically and mentally?  My dreams were becoming
reality and the reality of my dream was that I had developed some sort of
ability to shapeshift, and turn into a wolf.  So this latest dream had me
once again in Killarney Park, shifting from what had always been my known
reality to this unknown one.  Was this the same as the first dream, the
one that started it all?  Or was it a foretelling of the next shifting
that I would do?  Was this my Ihan’bla, as Mom called it, my vision
quest?  I rubbed my forehead as if that somehow would give my brain the
answers it was searching for.

Looking down, I caught sight of the silver
Triquetra hanging from my neck.  I pondered the meaning of the symbol and
how it fit into everything.  While I sat there sorting my thoughts I
grabbed a pencil and tablet from the nearby bureau.  With my mind dancing
around all the happenings of the last week I found myself doodling
subconsciously, at times without even looking at the paper. When I finally
glanced down at the tablet I saw, staring back at me the face of a wolf and in
its eyes reflected the Triquetra.

The trance I was in was disturbed by my cell
phone.  It was Kelleigh.  She was wondering about our plans to get
together and mentioned that Bram had talked to Quinn and wanted to join us all.
She had decided that, for my last night in Ireland (she didn’t know yet about
my change of plans), we should start out at a cozy little coffee shop, and then
go to a club to hear some live music. Dad was agreeable, so I made arrangements
with them to pick me up.

After a long shower and change of clothes I was
ready to get out of the hotel room for a while.  I really wanted some
fresh air and looked forward to a complete change of scene.  I was excited
to see Bram again and the thought of hearing an Irish group perform helped me
put all the events of the day in the back of my mind.

 “Hey Willow, you look quite nice,” Quinn
complimented while spinning me around.

“Thanks Quinn, so do you,” I reciprocated, noting
that he cleaned up well and looked older than his fifteen years. It was nice
walking with him to the car, laughing and joking about nothing in
particular…just being a couple of friends out for some fun. 

Bram was leaning up against the car and smiled
broadly when we reached him. He stepped forward and opened the door to the back
seat.

“You don’t mind sitting in back with Bram, do you,
Willow?” Kelleigh grinned and winked.

I tried to smile behind the rush of color I felt
attacking my face. “Of course not,” I mumbled.

Bram looked amazing.  He had on a
rust-colored sweater that somehow brought out flecks of the same color in his
eyes.  His hair was still wet, from a shower, I guess, and was combed back
with a small strand falling loosely over his forehead.  Looking at him
reminded me of the guys from the movie
Grease
, with their slicked-back
hair.   I scooted as far over to the side as I could in Kelleigh’s
little car, making sure I gave him enough room to stretch out his long
legs.  Kelleigh backed out onto the road and headed into town.

“Are you ready to go back home tomorrow, Willow?”
Quinn spun his head back and shifted his body so he could sign to Bram.

“Well,” I answered, “I need to tell you all
something.”

Kelleigh raised her head higher to look into the
rearview mirror. “Oh?”

“It looks as though I won’t be leaving tomorrow
after all…”

“Wha –” Kelleigh turned her head to look back at
me and swerved.

“Pay attention, Kell, I’ll ask the questions if
you don’t mind, I don’t feel like landing in a ditch just now.”

“Why not, Willow?” he asked, signing to Bram, who
then turned to face me.

“Dad and I were at Uncle Eagan’s today and the
police came by and told them about an investigation into Grandma’s death.”

Bram immediately began signing back to Quinn and
the two of them became engaged in a non-verbal conversation, with Bram
periodically looking my way and nodding.  I waited for a minute to let
Quinn catch Bram up to the story, and then continued.

“So,” I began, “Dad decided that he needed to be
here to try and figure out just what was going on.  He wanted to speak to
the police himself to see what kind of information they may have.”

“Oh my goodness,” Kelleigh remarked. “How is your
dad, is he freaking out over it all?”

“Actually, he’s taking it pretty well, considering. 
He’s just anxious to get some answers and find out why the police believe
there’s even a need for an investigation.”

“How much longer will you be staying then?”
Kelleigh asked as she looked around, searching for a parking space at the
coffee shop.

“Dad rescheduled our flight for another
week.  He wanted me to go home, but after we spoke to my mom, we all felt
it was better that I stay here with him. Besides, I’ve only seen Grandpa once,
the day of the funeral.  I promised him I would come back and visit before
we left.  I’m hoping this will give him and Dad a chance to talk.” I
looked over at Bram who was following the conversation via Quinn.  He
caught my eye and smiled, then reached over and gently touched my hand.

“You ok with all of this, Willow? I hope you don’t
mind me knowing about it?” he asked.

“It’s ok,” I answered, lifting my hand and
smoothing my hair behind my ear. 

“I’m sorry that your dad has to go through this,
Willow, but I have to be honest…” Kelleigh said, turning off the car’s ignition
and opening her door, “I’m very glad you’re staying another week.”

“Me too!” added Quinn as he jumped out of the car.

I tried to keep myself from looking at Bram but
couldn’t resist.

His eyes trapped me yet again as he mouthed, “Me
too.”  I self-consciously smiled and found myself lost in his stare.

Quinn knocked on the door. “C’mon, you two, I’m
thirsty.”

The coffee shop was the perfect escape.  The
yummy aromas of espresso and chocolate filled the air of the small space and
added to the cozy feel.  We laughed and, for the first time, talked about
things other than suspicious deaths and shapeshifting. 

Quinn was his crazy self and Bram was so funny I
often forgot that he was deaf.  He told us jokes and stories about him and
Quinn and all the trouble they’d get into.  For the second time that day,
I found myself laughing so hard it hurt.  The two of them had such a great
relationship in spite of the few years’ difference in their ages.

Kelleigh, on the other hand, was uncharacteristically
quiet.  She giggled at times but seemed preoccupied and lost in thought. I
imagined that she was still trying to figure out the shapeshifting incident
along with the truth behind Grandma’s death.  I felt lucky to be related
and was grateful that she was so helpful and concerned.

After we finished our drinks we headed out to a
club called ‘The Whistler’ to hear a group that Kelleigh recommended.  She
had broken up with the guitarist but was still friends with him and thought I
might enjoy listening to an Irish band.  I was surprised by the
club.  I guess I expected it to be like clubs at home…not that I’d ever
been to one, but I had a pretty clear picture in my mind of what they looked
like.  At home you’d have to be twenty-one to get into a place like this,
but no one was checking IDs.  In fact, there were people of all ages, not
just teenagers but families and little kids. 

There was one couple who sat cuddled in a booth
with their little baby.  Another man, about Dad’s age, sat with twin boys
about ten years old who were playing with their iPods while he visited with
people sitting next to him.  It seemed most folks had coffee or tea or
soda.  It was a very comfortable, family-oriented kind of place. 

The band was just setting up their equipment as we
grabbed a table.  They had a keyboard, something like bongos, two guitars,
a bass, and a microphone.  Kelleigh went over to one of the guitarists and
hugged him.  She brought him over to our table and introduced him. 
His name was Sean Michael but he asked us to call him “Dutch.” He sat with us
for a while then excused himself.  Judging from the way Kelleigh was
acting I got the feeling that she didn’t want to be broken up anymore.

The band began their set with some old U-2 songs
that had the crowd singing along with them.  I found myself joining in as
well, and so did Bram and Quinn.  Kelleigh just rocked back and forth to
the melody refusing to take her eyes off of Dutch.  The music was great
and Dutch did an impressive job of matching Bono’s unique voice.  Bram sat
close to me and educated me on the latest trends in Irish pop music.  It
wasn’t even necessary for anyone to interpret for us, communication seemed
natural and easy.

 I watched as his eyes lit up while he spoke
about music; he knew so much and could talk about any genre – pop, rock,
classical, anything.  Which then started me thinking,
how can he know
how it sounds? 
I mean, I could understand knowing the melody of songs
from his childhood like
Beautiful Day
, which were around before his
deafness, but how did he know what U-2’s
Artificial Horizon
sounded
like? After all, that song came out after his illness.  I studied his face
while he observed the band, scrutinizing their every movement in relation to
the music they played.  Bram was like a sponge, absorbing every visual
aspect of the band while they played.

Finally I leaned into him. “How?” I said, looking
questioningly into his eyes.

“How?  How what?” He furrowed his brows,
looking between myself and the band.

“How do you know what the music sounds like?” I
responded slowly, trying to enunciate each word.

He scratched his head and smiled. “You got me on
that one, Willow,” he pounded the table to get Quinn’s attention. 

“Quinn, ask him how he knows what that last song
sounds like.  It’s a fairly new song, how does he know how it
sounds?”  I’d hoped I wasn’t being too inquisitive. Quinn quickly shot
several signs Bram’s way, then just as quickly gave me my answer.

“He feels it, he learns the words online, then
feels the vibration through his stereo speakers. Plus, the lad’s observant as
all get-out.” Quinn returned his attention to the stage.

Bram looked at me and motioned to come closer.
“Let me show you.”

He pulled out his notepad and jotted something
down, folded the paper, and handed it to Quinn.  He then pointed to the
band.  Quinn frowned, then obliged and stepped up to the stage and handed
Dutch the slip of paper.  When they finished their song Dutch opened the
note, grinned, and nodded at Bram.  Bram stood up and reached out to
me.