Traveller (17 page)

Veronique lived in a small wooden caravan painted with a colorful array of cheerful flowers. She embodied everything I’d ever imagined a gypsy would be, with long dark hair, large hoop earrings, and white blouse that slipped off her shoulders and exposed silky, dark skin. She looked around thirty, but it was hard to tell. On her head, she wore a scarf to hold back her hair, and her bright skirt billowed out around her, a patchwork of colors and patterns.

“Hello, Anselina and Matthew. I take it this is your long lost granddaughter.” Her voice was deep and rich, and I couldn’t place her accent. It sounded like a mix of some Slavic language with French.

Anselina put a hand on my shoulder. “This is Emerson.”

Veronique extended her hand, and I shook it. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” I might be a gypsy now, but I was still southern, and Grandma Sugar had raised me right.

Veronique grinned, a flash of white in her dark face. “So adorably polite. Please come inside.”

Veronique’s little caravan was much larger and roomier than expected. In the center was a table with a large crystal ball on it.

I let out a tiny squeak of excitement. I just couldn’t help it. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Aye. It’s for the tourists. I go to the fair every Saturday with my husband to tell fortunes and read palms. It’s nonsense, but makes a pretty penny, and they like all the bells and whistles. “

Veronique picked up the crystal ball, shoved it into a bowling ball bag, and stuck it in the bottom of her wardrobe near her shoes. I was instantly disappointed.

I leaned forward. “But are you psychic?”

Veronique gave an elegant shrug. “Travellers are all able to sense things, some more than others.”

“I guess I missed out on that gene.”

She winked at me. “You never know. Maybe you are a late bloomer.”

Anselina folded her hands on the table. “Veronique, we need your help.” Together, she and Matthew explained what I’d told them about my mother and her death.

“I see,” said Veronique. “And you want me to hypnotize her.”

I’d been looking around at all of the interesting odds and ends in Veronique’s caravan, but my attention shot back to the group. “Hypnotize me?”

“It would be the easiest way to find out what happened on the day Jillian died,” said Veronique.

I wrinkled my nose. “Are y’all going to make me cluck like a chicken?”

She laughed. “Not unless that’s what you wish.”

“No thanks. That happened to me at senior prom. I didn’t find it very amusing, but everyone else sure did.”

Veronique reached for my hand. “It isn’t like that. You’ll be awake the whole time and aware of what is going on.”

“But I was only two when it happened.”

Veronique smiled. “If I wanted to, I could help you remember your own birth.”

“No, thank you.” There were some things I had no desire to know about. “I’ll do it, but where is Michael?”

I glanced out the window, but he was nowhere in sight. I wanted him here with me. I trusted my grandparents, but they were basically strangers.

“He had to go out and hunt. He’ll be back soon enough.” Matthew pulled off his jacket and put it on the back of his chair.

Michael had left without saying goodbye. My heart squeezed in my chest and for just a second I found it hard to breathe. For him, it was a nightly thing, killing Moktar and being the Ceannfort, but I wasn’t used to it yet. I kind of wished he had a normal part-time job, like working at the Dairy Queen or something. Of course, the idea of Michael serving ice cream or being polite to customers was ludicrous.

Veronique removed a gold necklace from around her neck that had a big, round pendent dangling on it. “Are you ready?”

“I guess so.”

“Then just watch this pretty golden ball.”

She swung the pendent back and forth in front me, and soon I began to feel really relaxed, like floating on a cloud. I closed my eyes and sighed.

Veronique’s voice was low and soft. “Tell me about the last day you spent with your mother.”

My eyes flew open in surprise. I instantly saw those memories like a movie playing in my mind.

“I had cereal for breakfast and spilled some on my shirt.”

“That’s very good, Emerson.” Veronique’s voice was soothing. “Keep going.”

“My mama sang me that lullaby, the one I heard Mary sing, when she put me down for my nap. She used to sing it to me all the time.”

I remembered it vividly. Her arms were wrapped around me, and she stroked my hair as she sang. Every so often she kissed the top of my head and pulled me closer to her soft warmth.

“When I woke up, Mama said she would take me to the park to play.”

“What happened at the park?”

“It was fall. Leaves covered the ground. I wore my favorite pink cardigan. Mama had on a green sweater. It was soft and fuzzy.”

I could almost smell the leaves and feel the warmth of the last rays of the sun as it sank in the sky. The memory, so incredibly vivid, was nearly painful, especially when I caught a whiff of my mother’s perfume.

“I can see her face perfectly. She’s laughing because I’m trying to fill my stroller up with leaves. I’d forgotten her laugh.” I had to swallow a lump in my throat. I’d also forgotten how young and beautiful she was. Her red hair matched the color of the leaves we played in, and her eyes were very blue, the same color as Anselina’s.

“When did you leave the park?”

I frowned. “She got upset. She stared at the trees near the baseball fields, and I think she saw something there.”

“Look, Emerson. What do you see?”

I squinted, trying hard to see into my memories of the dark woods. “Shadows. Dark shadows moving under the trees. I can’t see anything else.”

“What happened then?”

“She picked me up and sprinted to the car. She left my stroller behind. She was crying.”

I felt my mother’s breath in my ear as she ran, her hair tickling my nose, and the warmth of her body under my fingers as I clutched her sweater. I even felt her heart racing under her skin.

“Did she say anything?”

Suddenly, I heard her voice. “She said, ‘They found us. What have I done? My poor baby.’ I didn’t understand what she was talking about.”

“Where did she take you?”

“We went straight to Grandma Sugar’s. Mama handed me over to my grandparents, crying the whole time. She kissed me and I tried to hold onto her, but she pushed my hands away. Then she grabbed my favorite teddy bear, one that was almost as big as me, covered it with my blanket, and ran to the car.”

I swallowed hard. “Pappy George tried to stop her, but she screamed for him to get away. It had started to rain. We watched her buckle the teddy bear into my car seat, still covered in a blanket. As she drove away, I stayed by the window. I was so small I had to stand on my tip toes, and even then I could barely peek through the crack in the curtains.”

“What did you see?”

My lips began to tremble. “A dark shadow came out of the woods and started running after my mother’s car. I thought it was a wolf.”

“A Moktar,” said Anselina softly.

She was right. There was no mistaking the dark, saggy skin and ferocious face. I’d seen a Moktar at two years old and never even realized it.

Matthew shook his head. “She went all the way to America, and they still found her.”

Anselina frowned. “They crossed the ocean. We thought we had the problem contained. We’ll have to notify the alliance,” she said. “But you haven’t finished telling us what happened to our Jillie.”

With no gentle way to tell her, I decided to be as direct and emotionless as possible. “She drove off a cliff. She was killed instantly.” Too sad to weep, I sat in horrified silence as the truth sank in.

“She did it to save you,” said Anselina. “She put your bear on the car seat so the Moktar would think you died, too.”

“There must have been another way.”

Anselina touched my cheek gently. “If there was, she didn’t see it.”

Anselina and Matthew stood to leave, and I got up, too. I felt exhausted, emotionally and physically. We thanked Veronique and began walking back to Michael’s caravan. When we got there, Matthew gave me a long look.

“Pack up your things, lass,” he said. “You’ll stay with us now.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop me. “No Traveller girl can stay with a man unsupervised. You’re a Traveller now.”

“I’m nearly twenty-one, Matthew.” Not quite sure what to call him, I sort of stuttered on his name.

“Yes, you are very old and wise, but I’m older and probably a bit wiser, too. We Travellers stick to our traditions and our rules, even if they are outdated.”

I tried not to roll my eyes. “Fine. I’ll do as you ask, but…”

“I am your granddad.” He gave me a wobbly little smile that nearly broke my heart. “You could start calling me that, if you’d like.”

The wobbly smile made me reconsider my plans to force the issue. I’d stay with my grandparents tonight, and sort everything out tomorrow. I gathered my things and met Anselina and Matthew outside.

“All right, lead the way, Granddad…and Grandmother.” Their faces lit up, making it that much easier to give into whatever they wanted. I’d known them one day, and already I was putty in their hands.

Anselina wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It won’t be that bad. We’ll have fun.”

I wondered if Sun Tzu had a bossy little Chinese grandmother who told him what to do, and was fairly certain he must have. There is no stronger power than a grandma on a mission. It was better just to give in gracefully.

“I am yours to command.”

Chapter Nineteen

He’s got a burr in his saddle over something.

~Grandma Sugar

The blankets on my bed in the spare bedroom of my grandparents’ caravan smelled like lavender, a scent that reminded me of my mother. She’d kept dried lavender tied together with a purple satin ribbon in her dresser back in Bowling Green. I found it years after she died because Daddy had never been able to touch any of her things. Lavender smelled like home to me, and she’d probably felt the same way. I wondered if she’d thought about her parents every time she smelled it, too. Sadly, we were two generations of women who’d spent our lives missing our mothers.

Dressing for school, I slipped into a gray plaid jumper dress with a white blouse underneath, and put on charcoal-colored tights and shoes. It looked a bit like a school uniform, but it was easy, comfortable, warm, and the short skirt showed off my legs. Also, the jumper covered the wrinkles in my blouse; I had no idea where my grandparents kept their iron.

When I stepped into the main room of the caravan, my grandparents were nowhere to be seen. They’d left a pot of coffee for me, and a variety of breakfast foods. I ate a scone and drank my coffee quickly, not wanting to be late for class. I thought about wearing a sweater, but a crisp chill in the air made me shiver, so I grabbed my wool coat instead. I scribbled a note telling them where I was going, and then wrote one out for Michael, too, sticking it on the door of his caravan on my way out. I didn’t want to wake him. He needed to sleep. I asked him to meet me at my apartment again at four.

The gypsy compound felt subdued early in the day. Most people stayed up all night, so they slept in every morning. No one was around when I slipped out the door and onto the streets of York. I turned around as soon as the door shut behind me, but it had disappeared.

“Gypsy tricks,” I muttered under my breath.

Brooke already sat in the front row of class when I arrived. She looked polished, as always, with her smooth blonde hair, rosy lips, and a perfectly pressed blouse and skirt. The epitome of a southern lady, a skill I’d never quite mastered. The sleeves of my blouse were more wrinkled than I’d realized and makeup had not been anywhere on my agenda this morning. Grandma Sugar would have yanked me out of the classroom by my ear.

Brooke greeted me with a sunny smile, her eyes taking in my less than stellar appearance. “Look what the cat dragged in. Hi, stranger.”

I tried to pat my hair down. It looked a little like I’d stuck my finger into an electrical outlet.

“Aren’t you rather chipper today, Miss Brooke?”

Brooke winked, and handed me a stick of gum. Juicy Fruit, my personal favorite.

“Leo asked me out. I’ll say yes. Eventually.”

Something about the idea of Leo and Brooke together set off a vague sense of unease somewhere deep inside my belly, but I pushed my feelings aside. It was none of my beeswax.

“He’s a nice guy. Don’t play games with him, okay?”

Brooke gave me a saucy grin. “Sugar, he’ll enjoy the kind of games I want to play.”

She wasn’t talking about Monopoly, but I was saved from further innuendo by our Shakespeare professor stumbling into the room. Always lost in thought and a little befuddled, he reminded me a bit of my own father. Daddy spent most of his waking hours thinking about soldiers who died long ago in wars people barely remembered. What may have seemed dull and dry to others was his passion.

My mother had been his other passion, and when she died, he’d slipped a little farther into his own world. Eventually, I’d have to tell him the truth about her death, and about the Moktar and the Travellers and my grandparents, but I couldn’t do so over the phone. He would have been on the next plane to England to have me seen by a head doctor, and I wouldn’t blame him.

Before I knew it, class ended and everyone put away their books. The professor seemed perplexed, like he’d lost track of time, too. He scratched his head and mumbled as I helped him gather his things together before walking out with Brooke. As soon as we got outside, her phone rang.

She squealed. “Leo’s calling. Got to go.”

Her voice turned sexy and sultry as soon as she answered the phone. I didn’t understand how girls could change from one second to the next if a man was involved. It was a complete mystery to me.

She waved goodbye, but her attention already centered on Leo and nothing else. I waved back halfheartedly. She wasn’t even looking.

Walking back to my apartment, I couldn’t quite understand my feelings. I had no right to be jealous about Brooke and Leo, but that was the only reasonable explanation for the odd tightening in my chest at the thought of them going out together.