Moonlight streamed through indigo clouds casting eerie shadows across the stark desert landscape. Lone cactuses appeared as ominous figures standing guard under a night sky. The utter stillness was unusual. No wind or rustling nocturnal sounds, not even the howl of a coyote from afar.
Inside her remote home, Lillian lay in bed and pulled the soft cashmere blanket up around her body like a cocoon, inhaling the delicate fragrance that she had bought while on a recent trip to London. The luxurious lilac and gardenia scent lingered in her clothes, hair and sheets. She smiled, thinking of her latest adventure and dozed off with visions of the lovely gardens, museum visits and concerts she had experienced while on her most recent European vacation.
The house was an older adobe style, typical of those out on the mesa in New Mexico. Like a sentinel, it stood all alone, far off the beaten path, at the end of a long wide sandy driveway edged with rocks and strategically placed indigenous plants. A massive ornately carved wooden front door graced the entry. An antique that been imported from Italy, it was one of Lillian’s most prized possessions. She had paid a pretty penny for it, not to mention the shipping involved. But, the door made the entry very dramatic and most certainly increased the value of her home. In addition, with its heavy duty bolts, it gave her a sense of security that one needed being a woman living alone out in the middle of nowhere. Other than the rich mahogany toned door, the exterior was a faded terracotta stucco that blended seamlessly into the landscape. In great condition, it was a very solid and grounded home. The cozy interior felt like a safe cave, a womb protecting her from the realities of the outside world. Lillian had furnished it “brilliantly”, as she liked to say, with a mix of carefully curated antiques, and locally made artisanal items. The walls showed off a few of her latest paintings; a recent hobby that had blossomed into a passion. Scenes of vast skies and cactus flowers drifted from room to room. She had even been given an exhibit in a local gallery/cafe, where her artwork adorned the place for locals and tourists to enjoy.
As she lay in her beautiful Spanish carved wooden bed, the moonlight seeped through the shutters. She gazed mesmerized, at the soft lines and patterns it created across her linen bed covers. It was the final supermoon of the year, a massive Sturgeon moon. Her eyes felt very heavy, and she yawned, feeling the sleeping pill go to work. Ambien was something she had found to be an absolute necessity for the past few years. Well, ever since she had lost her beloved husband.
Long after midnight, a piercing shriek jarred her awake from a deep sleep. Abruptly sitting up in bed, she listened intently, her heart racing, as a throbbing pulse filled her ears. She froze in panic. The shriek came again, even louder. This time, it ended with an avian sounding flourish, and an odd, yet familiar squeaking croak. With an audible sigh of relief, she shook her head and rolled her eyes. He was back. That dreadful mockingbird. Annually, he would return to the same tree on her lot, which happened to be right next to her bedroom window. He always began his incessant calls around midnight. Every year, she would lose sleep and vow to invest in double paned windows. And, every year, she would get sidetracked and forget all about it until another year passed, and he reminded her once again. Living in the remote plains of the west hadn’t turned out quite as she had expected. Retirement was supposed to be bliss, but it didn’t always live up to her expectations. She went to the window to see if she could spot the annoying culprit in the tree branches. The moonlight shone brightly and the silhouette of the tree was clearly outlined against the stark landscape. She scanned the barren branches from bottom to the very top, but saw nothing.
She climbed back into her sumptuous bed, and waited to hear the otherworldly sound again, but there was nothing. Usually the mockingbird would begin with one sound, then proceed into his repertoire, with impressive tenacity. This time he had only made two attempts. Perhaps he had flown off to a better tree. Finally, she slid down under the velvety smooth sheets and fell into a deep sleep. In her dreams she was having dinner with her beloved late husband. The were discussing politics as usual, and he had his favorite siamese cat, Kiki on his shoulder. She reached over to hold his hand, but instead of reaching for hers, he glared at her with dark beady eyes. Suddenly, the cat leapt across the table towards her, with a terrifying hiss, baring its teeth, eyes glowing red. She woke up in a sweat, looked at the clock, and realized it was time to get up for her morning walk with the local ladies she had befriended.
When she married Carl , she was well aware of their challenges. He was 25 years her senior, the inevitable fact that he would most likely die before her was obvious. No matter, she had to have him. She needed someone to make her family complete. The girls needed a new father. A good man. A provider. Sure, she had a great job and good income, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She deserved more. Her previous husband had been a high ranking politician. He had taken good care of them financially, but that had come with a devastating emotional toll. The verbal abuse segued into physical, and when it began to impact her daughters, she knew the only option was to escape the marriage. It wasn’t easy, but with herculean effort, she was able to extract herself and her girls from the situation, and got a nice payout as well. She had been socking away part of the “allowance” he had doled out to her over the years, put it into stocks, and it had paid off in dividends. Enough to get a good lawyer and enough to take him to the cleaners. She took the kids, relocated overseas and went back to grad school, where she excelled. Before she even finished her degree, she was offered a position with the university and happily accepted. Finally her life was falling into place and she could breathe.
She met Carl in the University lounge. His wire rimmed glasses framed a penetrating stare. He was mesmerized by her effervesent youth, she enamored with his multiple degrees and charismatic charm. He was a tenured Dean, and she an assistant professor on her way up the ranks. She knew she could make him hers. There was one caveat. He was married. Married for 30 years, with kids. Well, young adult children. She knew what she wanted. This time she was not going to mess up. This was her chance. Success happens, when preparation meets opportunity. She loved that quote and had decided to live her “new” life by it. They say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and she had become an impenetrable shell of her former self. In reality, she had never truly had the opportunity to fully become who she was meant to be. Instead, she had gotten sidetracked in life, married the wrong man while young, and lost herself along the way. She had learned a lot from her first husband. The abuse had left her with a subset of manipulative skills, and a cold heart that she artfully masked with a sophisticated facade. She had internalized the pain, and it had only helped to solidify her will. Lillian’s drive and ambition knew no boundaries. Once she had her mind set, she knew how to deploy all tactics to complete a mission successfully.
Dressed in leggings and hiking boots, she inhaled the fresh cool morning air while making her way along the local road to the small village. As she reached the cafe, she saw her hiking friends waiting outside; a local woman and her daughter. Rosalind and Chantelle ran a gallery next to the cafe, and she had met them on one of her first visits to the town with her late husband. They had been fond of him and had even dedicated a special bench outside of the cafe in his memory. The women introduced her to some amazing walks and they often sat over coffees, telling her about the history, as well as local gossip. They were the gatekeepers of the small village, they kept the knowledge alive, and enjoyed sharing it with eager newcomers like Lillian.
At the coffee bar, the older woman, Rosalind, told her they wanted to take her to a new trail. Heading up the narrow street, coffees in hand, the woman told her more about this very special trail that led to an ancient cave. Not many people knew about it, because it was considered sacred. In old times, people would go to this cave, climb deep within, to express their regrets, sorrows and beg forgiveness from the spirits of the underworld. They would leave trinkets to pay homage to their loved ones and to thank the supernatural powers who watched over them. It was said that those who visited the cave could listen to echoes of loved ones and whispers from the other side. The healing power in hearing these voices helped them to put closure on old emotional wounds. Lillian listened patiently, nodding her head, and humored them by throwing in the occasional and very British sounding, “Oh really?” However, in reality, she was not one to go for “new age” junk, and considered it a colossal waste of time.
Heading across a narrow mesa trail fringed with dry brush, the older woman, Rosalind, pointed her finger towards a small lump on the ground. “Look, there it is”, she said in a hushed reverent tone. Stepping gently as she approached the mound of earth, she reached down to pick up some moss which covered a piece of slate. Gently dusting off the debris, she carefully pried the heavy flat stone aside with the toe of her cowboy boot, revealing a dark opening in the ground. Lillian peered over her shoulder, and felt a sense of dread come over her. A rush of dank cool air blasted out from the hole, enveloping her, as she tried to see into the dark space below. A strong sour musty odor permeated her senses. Rosalind turned to her daughter Chantelle and whispered something to her. Lillian looked at them with her pale blue eyes. Her pupils were dilated. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was afraid. They took her hands, one in each, and between the three of them, they formed a circle over the opening. Rosalind told Lillian to trust her. She pulled out a silk pouch, unrolled it to take some herbs, which she lit and blew out so that the smoke would billow around them. She told her they needed to give thanks in advance of entering this sacred and secret place. Lillian closed her eyes, as Rosalind chanted in another language softly and calmly. She then repeated the chant in English. “Oh great beings from beyond us. We are so grateful for your existence. You led the way for us, and have kept the path open for us now. We thank you for your guidance and wisdom. Respectfully honoring you with gratitude.”
Lillian was uncomfortable, being a fairly traditional religious woman, this kind of thing was against her strict British Episcopalian upbringing. But, she didn’t want to risk losing these newfound local friends, especially since she had already sold some of her paintings in their cafe. They were an invaluable asset to her in this small remote town, and they had trusted her enough to bring her here.
Rosalind took off her jacket and left it on the ground, then carefully wrapped her fanny pack tightly around her waist. A slight, fit and wiry woman, she swiftly slid down through the opening in the earth into darkness. “It’s very cold today!”, she shouted from below. She began to hum and her sounds moved further and further, deeper and deeper into the deep tunnel below until her voice was barely audible. Lillian looked at Chantelle with questioning eyes. Chantelle didn’t talk much, in fact Lillian never felt quite comfortable in her presence. It was as if Chantelle knew something about her, and was holding it against her with a subtle grudge. Chantelle smirked, “What? Scared of a cave?” With that, she shrugged her shoulders, tossed her jacket and backpack off on top of her mother’s jacket, flipped her hair over, swiftly tied it in a topknot, and seamlessly went into the small entry. Lillian stood there anxiously, beads of sweat forming on her brow. She leaned over and inhaled the damp earth. “Hellooooo?” she called into the hollow depth. No answer. The sun was beginning to get very hot as it rose into the sky. She reached her hand to feel the chilly cave air within the opening. She tossed her jacket onto the pile and wrapped a scarf around her hair. She had to do it. Slowly and awkwardly, she maneuvered her big boned body so that she could slip her legs down. As she did, her feet hit a small landing, and she used that to pause. She craned her neck, calling downward anxiously, “Rosalind? Chantelle?” No answer. She stood still, feet on the ledge, but her head still at eye level with the ground. Through the delicate dry wisps of grass, she could see for miles into the distance across the vast plain from her vantage point. Not a soul around. As she squinted her eyes to see a bit further, that’s when she heard it. A sorrowful wailing sound from deep below within the cave, followed by conversation in a strange language, something absolutely foreign to her. As her heart raced, she tried to scream but nothing came out. She was paralyzed with fear. Again, the terrifying sound came, this time followed by ominous crying. She felt her body get colder, and her shivers turned to shaking tremors. Her teeth chattered and she so felt dizzy, she worried she might faint. She tried to calm herself with her yogic and box breathing techniques. Inhale, pause, exhale, pause, inhale, pause, exhale, pause….suddenly a hand gripped her ankle, the fingernails digging into her soft flesh. She screamed out loud. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to pull herself up and out of the ground, the grip of the hand not allowing her to escape. Then she heard Rosalind’s boisterous laughter. She and Chantelle were back from the depths of the cave. Rosalind had grabbed her leg to get herself up towards the opening. She laughed hysterically upon seeing Lillian’s state. “You’re really scared! I didn’t think you would be, since you live alone on here the mesa and you’re such a tough British lady. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you.” Chantelle was behind her and they wrapped their arms around Lillian’s legs, hoisting her up and out of the entrance. She pulled herself to standing, and brushed off the sandy dirt from her leggings. The mother and daughter emerged looking dusty and pale. Flipping her head over, Chantelle shook out her long black hair, then tossed it back over her shoulders as she laughed at the situation. Rosalind told Lillian that they had gone to express their sorrow for the loss of a beloved pet, a little mutt named Sweety. Next, Chantelle opened her bag, and pulled out a few trinkets; a tiny hot pink rhinestone collar, a toy mouse, and a milk bone. She tossed them one by one, down into the dark hole, pausing after each item was thrown and waiting for the distant clink when landing, which seemed to take a very long time. She then replaced the slate and gently pressed the moss on top of the stones.
Heading back, they moved along the dirt trail in silence. The eldest woman in front, Lillian in the middle and Chantelle in back. Rosalind hummed between her labored breathing as they headed up a gradual incline back towards the village center. She paused as they met with a wider road. She seemed odd and her usual cheerful demeanor had an edge to it. “There you go Lillian, your house is to the left, unless you need to go back into town?” Lillian smiled awkwardly, getting her bearings. “Oh, yes, I’ll just head home now. So much to do today. Thank you for the interesting adventure!” “I hope we didn’t scare you off.” responded Rosalind, with a laugh. Lillian could see her home on the horizon, and was surprised at how close it was. “See you on Saturday for the poetry meeting!” she called out to the two figures who were drifting into the distance. Rosalind waved, and Chantelle swirled her sweatshirt jacket over her head as they vanished around a bend.
Finally through the gate to her property, she paused to walk over to the tree where the culprit would sing at night. Gently caressing the dried bark with her slender pale hand, she pulled a piece off and it crumbled into dust between her fingers. The tree likely needed to come down. At that moment, something beneath the tree caught her eye. She glanced down to see a mental trinket wedged between the exposed roots, glinting in the sun. She bent down to get a closer look and realized it was a gold coin from her late husband’s collection. Very strange, she thought, as she had just been sorting through his box of personal effects, separating items to sell, and placing others in a drawer to keep. The coin collection was vast and valuable, estimated to be worth over a million dollars. The large velvet lined case was heavy and securely locked, and it was stored at the bank in her safety deposit box. She had been so cautious and protective of it. In fact, this had been a major point of contention with his estranged daughters – estranged when she came on the scene and he was absorbed into her family den. His daughters had known of his collection, it had been promised to them since they were born. The coins went as far back as ancient Egypt. He had been given a huge collection by his great grandmother, a world renowned psychic, who had gotten them from an unknown source. He had added a few over the years, but the collection was primarily a family heirloom. Lillian had promised him that she would follow his wishes in his will, and pass the collection on to his daughters. However, once she had researched the value, and he was incapacitated, she was able to revise the will so that all of his assets went to her, including the spectacular coin collection. She wasn’t going to play by anyone’s rules ever again. She had to look out for herself, her kids from the previous marriage and their grandkids. His daughters were not her problem. She had shut that door long ago.
Turning the large brass key, she pushed the heavy wooden door open, dropped her backpack in a basket, and slipped off her sneakers. Rolling the coin between her fingers, she placed it in a small clay bowl on the entry table. She loved this house and smiled as she looked around the cozy sunlit room with its southwest and eclectic English furnishings. She took her hair down, letting the long dark brown and grey mane flow as she headed down the hall. She couldn’t wait to luxuriate in the tub. The bathroom was very luxurious by local standards, but she had insisted upon it and was so glad she had. She turned the beautifully curated faucets on and steam from the European shower filled the room. She inhaled the eucalyptus infused bath bomb she’d tossed into the spectacular clawfoot tub. Slipping off her leggings and top, she gingerly tested the water with her toes. A bit hot, she adjusted the temp until it was just right. Then she gracefully stepped into the bath and sat down to enjoy a leisurely soak. Her eyes closed and she reached over to light a candle. She hit the dimmer switch and called out to turn on her favorite classical station. The one she used to listen to on weekends with her husband. She closed her eyes, and the music began to take over.
Lillian had dozed off and was suddenly awakened by a tinkling sound followed by a splash. She peered through sleepy eyes over the sudsy water of the bath, and saw an opening. She felt something touch her inner thigh and instinctively reached down to feel a small round metal object. She assumed it was the cap of a shampoo bottle, but as she lifted it out of the water, there it was, another of the antique coins from her former husband’s collection. Confused and scared, she quickly pulled the drain, and stood up to reach for her towel. Carefully stepping out of the tub, she placed the coin, heads up – seeing the profile of a female goddess clearly engraved in the gold. She looked into the mirror and wiped away the condensation to see herself, wet hair, bare faced. In the reflection, she saw a pale ancient hag’s face staring back. Alarmed, she quickly looked away. Turning back to wipe off the rest of the fog from the glass, she gasped at the dark shadowy tall figure behind her. Inhaling sharply, she quickly collected herself standing up straight and strong, clenching her fists. Being a practical English woman, she could not be bothered with these types of things, so she just said out loud into the room, “Oh Phooey” and turned up the lights bathroom as she dried off and wrapped herself in the luxe waffle towel she had bought at the last 5 star hotel where she had stayed. She padded out of the bathroom in her slippers, and headed to the kitchen to make another pot of coffee. Noting that it was already 2 pm, she decided on a glass of Prosecco instead. She and Carl had loved to share a bottle of bubbly on the weekends, and she knew he would approve. Lifting her glass towards the photo of the two of them in Paris, she softly said, “A votre sante mon cheri. Je t’aime.”
She dozed off in the comfy lounge chair and woke up well after sunset. The house was dark and very still. She reached over to turn on a beautiful alabaster table lantern, and got up to head to the kitchen and make some dinner. As she turned on her favorite radio station, the phone rang, startling her. She picked it up with a smile, seeing that her daughters were calling for their weekly family FaceTime. She set up her laptop so she could cook while chatting away with her 3 girls. They laughed and told her the latest about her grandchildren and so on. She didn’t mention the coins, or even the cave outing. She just told them everything was going well, and her art exhibit in the cafe had been well-received. They talked about the next holiday, and quarreled over who would host the big family dinner. She said her goodbyes when the pasta was done, and prepared a plate, refilled her wine glass and took it into the living room.
She sipped her wine, putting the empty plate on the coffee table as she lounged in front of the tv. There wasn’t much on, so she decided to go to bed early. Tomorrow she wanted be well rested to do her 6 am yoga class at the Tundra Center for Well-Being.
She fell asleep quickly an deeply after the day’s activities. Yet, in the middle of the night, a strange incident woke her up suddenly. It was a voice next to her saying “hello”. The down comforter had somehow slid down to the end of her bed, and she quickly reached to pull it up around her body. The room was so cold that she could see her breath. This made no sense since it was summer, and although the desert nights could get cold, it was never like this. Shivering, she got up, grabbed her robe and went to check the thermostat. It was 31 degrees in the house. She turned on the heat. That’s when she heard another strange noise. It was the distinctive sound of a coin dropping on tile. Startled, Lillian walked into the kitchen with determination, switching on the overhead lights. Nothing looked amiss. She scanned the room. There it was, a single gold coin lying in the middle of the floor.
She walked over and stared down at the coin, then turned around wildly to see if anyone was in the house with her. Her heart began to race and her palms were sweating. She felt anxiety taking over. She grabbed her phone and dialed 911. “I think someone’s in my house!”, she breathed in a hushed voice. On the end of the line, the operator told her to give her location and hold on. Panic was setting in. She always locked her door, but had she forgotten? Perhaps after the cave experience, she was discombobulated and forgot? She couldn’t remember and her mind was spinning. She reached for a knife from the butcher block. Her breath was visible and the room was steadily getting colder. That’s when the sound of tiny feet on the floor raced towards her, and another coin dropped in front of her. From above and behind her, a low hiss began. She turned, knife clenched in her hand. Terrified, she looked up to see a small siamese kitten, back arched, ready to pounce from the top of the refrigerator. “Kitty, Kitty, Kitty” she whispered to calm the little creature, who appeared wild and bewildered. Her voice shook. She was exhausted, and overwhelmed. Just then she saw the flashing lights, and heard the patrol car pulling into the gravel driveway. An officer pounded on the door, “Police, open the door!”. She wrapped her robe tightly around herself, and ran to the door. It was indeed locked. She opened it and let the two officers inside. “Lillian Glazier?” Yes, she told them, that was her name. “What seems to be the problem ma’am?” She explained that she had been woken by a strange noise, and the house was not only chilly, but ice cold. Then she had heard a coin drop in the kitchen, and went in to find a kitten on her fridge. The officers listened impatiently, as a domestic violence call was coming in on their radio. They walked through the house, into the kitchen. One officer went off to search the bathroom and bedroom. In the kitchen, the officer looked up to see the kitten shaking on top of the fridge. “What I think we have here, is a kitten breaking into a kitchen for food, Ma’am. Obviously this poor thing is starving and probably hit that wall thermostat when it tried to climb over the shelf unit to reach the fridge.” She felt a wave of relief rush over her. “You’re safe. Just a bit rattled. My suggestion is to feed the little guy, and get some rest. You can decide what to do with him tomorrow. There’s a shelter in town, but you might want to consider keeping him, since that place is packed, and his odds of survival won’t be very good over there.” She blushed with embarrassment and thanked them for coming by. The second officer came out of the bathroom with a perplexed look on his face. He held up a gold coin in front of Lillian. “Do you know where this came from? I used to collect coins as a kid, and I never ever seen one like this in person, only in rare coin books.” The officer held the coin up and marveled at it. “This is an ancient Egyptian gold coin. These are worth a lot of money! You need to store it somewhere safe, not on the bathroom counter, that’s for sure.” As he pressed the coin into her palm, she answered, “Oh, yes, it came from my late husband’s collection. I do need to put it away.”
“Thanks for coming by, I appreciate it. Sorry for the inconvenience.” “No worries Mrs. Glazier, that’s what we do. It can be creepy living out here on the mesa, especially being a woman alone. Take care and make sure to lock up. I see you have a quality bolt here, an alarm system, and secure windows, so you just make sure to always lock that big old front door, and you’ll be fine.”
She watched them walk to the patrol car, the bulkier of the two sliding into the passenger seat. The doors slammed shut, and they backed down the driveway, with the radio calling for them to get to an emergency situation just up the hill. She heard the charger’s engine roar as they took off across the dusty terrain, sirens blaring, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.
Back in the kitchen, she poured some milk into a dish, and put it on top of the fridge. The kitten was cowering behind a stack of napkins, with only its eyes showing, bright green. She poured herself a glass of filtered water from her sink and sat down at the table, holding the coin in her hand. She turned it over and over again, examining the details. It was an ancient gold roughly textured coin, with the vague design of a face barely visible. She held it and closed her tired eyes, as she thought about her late husband. She imagined his embrace and thought about how much she missed him. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. She pressed the coin into her heart and sobbed uncontrollably. The kitten came over towards her, and sat at her feet. She leaned down to pick it up and put it on the table in front of her. “Who are you, and how did you get in here? ” she asked. The kitten glared at her and the stare felt almost human. She shuddered with a strange sensation. It was time to get some rest, and she headed back to her room, leaving the coin and the kitten on the table.
She fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, she woke to sunlight streaming over her bed. Looking at the clock she realized she had overslept, missed her yoga classes. It was nearly noon. She let out a long sigh, and slowly sat up. Her head was pounding and she felt awful. Her mind was fuzzy, and then she remembered the night. Heading to the kitchen, she looked at the table, and noticed that the coin and the kitten were gone. “Kitty? Kitty where are you?”. She searched around, but there was no sign of the kitten. It had probably snuck into some cozy corner, or better yet, maybe it had left the same way it had gotten in. She was sure she would find it later, or maybe not. But, the coin. Where was it? She decided to forget it and get on with her day. Keep calm and carry on, as the famous British phrase goes.
She made some coffee, and poured a cup, savoring her first sip. It was Sunday and she had no plans. Now, this was her idea of retirement. She went to the front door to go check for the paper delivery. Yes, even way out here, the NYTimes was delivered, albeit only on Sunday mornings and with a hefty surcharge. She opened the door, inhaled the fresh morning desert air, looked out across the mesa and enjoyed the spectacular view, the clouds formed elevated plumes in the distance. A major storm was on the way. She picked up the paper, and underneath of it, something caught her eye, it was the same coin that had been in the kitchen. She leaned down, and carefully picked it up between her fingers. Holding it up in front of her face, she recognized the Egyptian coin. Now she felt like someone was playing a game with her. But, why? How? She felt her heart start to race, but forced herself to calm down. Looking around, she saw nothing, and shut the door, locking it behind herself. She headed to the kitchen where she decided to call her eldest daughter Helen, the sensible one.
FaceTime with Helen was best left to later in the day but she felt this couldn’t wait. Her daughter answered and Lillian immediately went into a rapid fire description of what had been occurring. She described the best she could, about the kitten, and details regarding the coins. That she thought someone was playing a tricky game and she suspected it had something to do with the inheritance. The daughters of her late husband had recently contacted her, regarding the will. She shared the thought that they might be messing around to scare her or something. Her daughter told her not to worry, and that she would snoop around on their social media and even contact them if need be to sort things out. “Mother, the coins are safe in the bank. Maybe one or two fell out in transport and now you are just finding them? Don’t worry. Let me look into it to put your mind at ease. Can’t wait to visit for the holidays! We are doing Christmas at your place! Love you Mum.”
It was an ideal fall desert day, so she opened the door to take the paper and her coffee out to the patio. A hummingbird feeder was bustling with the tiny birds, zooming around. She sat at the glass table and enjoyed the spectacular view. As she let her eyes wander across the vast landscape, she noted where the cave was, and was shocked to see how close it was in proximity to her property. Rosalind and Chantelle must have taken her a different route to get there. Sometimes distances could be deceptive out here in the desert. After finishing her coffee, she put a rock on top of the paper to keep it from blowing away, and slipped on the boots by the door. It was a crisp sunny and clear day, and she had time. She went to the dish in the entry way, picked up the coin and put it in her pocket, then locked up and headed out.
She headed directly towards the location making her own pathway. It was only a few minutes walk through some dry brush, towards the secret cave. She glanced around to make sure that nobody had seen her. Not a soul in sight. Leaning down to move the moss, it was surprising to her how much mud was on the slate slabs, and how heavy they were. Using all of her strength, she shoved the rock over and felt that dank rush of air envelop her once again with its foul musty odor. She stared into the void, the air blowing her hair in wisps about her face. She pulled the coin out of her pocket and held it in the air above the opening, inspecting the details. The weathered face on it was female, with curly tendrils of hair in a halo around her face. The eyes were unusually large. Turning the coin in her fingers, she looked at the other side and noticed some writing in another language, something unrecognizable to her. Just as she was about to drop it into the cave, she heard a sound behind her in the grass. Turning around, she saw the kitten. It purred and wound itself against and around, between her ankles. She giggled and reached for it, but at that moment, it raced towards the entry of the cave and jumped in. Shocked, Lillian screamed out “Kitty!” She peered down and saw nothing. She waited and listened intently. Then she heard the cries of the kitten from deep down within. Instinctively, she put the coin back into her pocket, and eased her way through the opening. Her feet landed on the same spot as last time, but the crying kitten compelled her to take a step downward, and she felt her foot rest on another ledge, and so on. There was a ladder carved within the wall of cave, and she made her way down, down, down. As her eyes adjusted, the light from the opening was enough for her to see that this clay staircase was very long and went down indefinitely. She slid her hand inside her pocket to be sure that the coin was still there. The kitten was crying out from below, and the cries were getting further and further away. Pausing on the steps to catch her breath, she reached into her pocket again, and this time, she took the coin out and held it, staring at it as if it was going to give her an answer. She finally held it out over the dark abyss, took a deep breath, and let it go. She waited to hear it land. She waited. And, waited, and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, from a distance, she heard a minuscule tinkling sound of the coin landing. So far away. She shuddered. The kitten cried out, this time somewhat closer to her. She started to get very disoriented. That’s when it happened. From deep within the cave, a distant terrifying scream, neither male nor female. The scream was followed by growling sounds which seemed to come from more than one entity. It became more of a howling noise, and reverberated all the way throughout the cave from far below. Lillian was petrified, and couldn’t move. She looked up at the opening above, and couldn’t figure out if it was near or far from her. She was very disoriented and vertigo was setting in. The kitten brushed against her ankle and she sighed with relief. Just then the scream came again, this time accompanied by other terrifying sounds. A low, yet powerful voice began to whisper, but loud enough for Lillian to hear. “You must return what is not yours. Your greed is your demise. Your greed is your demise. Your greed is your demise.” The voice trailed off below. Then there was silence. Lillian’s heart raced and she somehow regained strength to climb back up the cave steps towards the opening. Finally, she reached up and gripped the earth with her fingers and hands, pulling herself up and out. She lay there exhausted and terrified, as she let out a cry of relief. The kitten was nowhere to be seen. After a while, she felt the sun warming her body and she slowly got up. Carefully placing the slate and moss over the entrance to the cave, she paused. She was in a daze and turned to make her way back to her house. She walked in a trance, for what could’ve been hours, or only a few minutes.
It was such a relief to return to her cozy home. Immediately, she locked the door behind her and headed to the office to pull out her late husband’s will. Her hair disheveled and dirty, she leafed through it with muddy hands. Her eyes wild with fear, she began to read the portion about the family heirloom coin collection. The statement said that the coin collection came from his great grandmother’s side of the family. The coins were said to have a value of close to 2 million dollars at the time of the writing of the will. Amongst them were coins dating as far back as Egypt. There were also those from Ancient Greece and Rome. In addition, there were a select few that had been used for conjuring. The great grandmother had kept those in a separate velvet pouch, as she used them frequently in readings and channeling spirits. They were said to increase her connections. She was more than a “dabbler”, and she had been known to conjure up all sorts of spirits using the coveted coins.
Lillian had altered the will with her lawyer at the end of her husband’s life. He was unwell and had no idea what was going on. She had him transfer everything to her, and make her the executrix. He was a willing participant, even if unknowingly so. The coins were indeed listed and transferred as well. She was planning to sell them, but until then, they had been kept in her safety deposit box at the bank in Albuquerque. She assumed the random coins in the house had fallen out, as her daughter suggested. The cave had scared her, but the more she though about it, the more she figured she was sleep deprived and it was her imagination getting the best of her. It could happen. The kitten was gone, the coin had been tossed into the cave. So what? She put away the file, made a note to go to the bank and visit the collection, and locked the file in the cabinet.
Enough of this, she told herself as she removed the dusty clothes and headed to the bathroom to shower and clean up.
Sipping some herbal tea in the big easy chair, she turned up the volume on her favorite mystery. Snuggled up under her cashmere blanket, she smiled at her antics from earlier in the day, and shook her head. She quickly sent a text to her daughter, and told her that she wanted her to come out sooner, so they could work on selling the coin collection. There were some international coin auctions that they could reach out to. She told her that she would split the money with her if she was willing to help her with the research and listings. Her daughters readily agreed and they planned for her to visit the following weekend. That way Lilian could get the coins from the safety deposit box down in Albuquerque and they could have a fun weekend sorting and separating the lot.
Dozing in the living room, Lillian woke to the blanket being yanked off of her lap. She gasped and looked around the room wildly. The TV was playing static, which was strange, but there had been a storm on route, and it could easily have knocked out the cable. She listened as a wild wind kicked up sand and dust outside. She got up, reached down to pick up the blanket from the tile floor, and tossed it onto the chair. From the window that looked over the mesa, there was no view at all. It was so dark outside. The cloud cover obliterated all light and she could barely make out anything beyond her long driveway’s solar lights, which faded into the distant dust. Switching on a few lamps, she went back over to fiddle with the tv to no avail. Finally, she picked up a random book from the shelf. The book was part of an antique collection, which she and her late husband had shared a passion for. This particular book was one that she had never seen before. The faded burgundy linen cover had a gold inscription, “Psychic & Physical Presences; Harnessing the Power”. The author’s name was too worn away to read. She sat down and leaned back in her comfy chair, pulling the blanket up over her knees, and opened the book.
The book was all about psychic powers and how to utilize them to connect with your deceased loved ones. As she wasn’t one to go for this “hooey” as she like to call it, she wouldn’t normally read something of this nature, but due to the recent events, she felt compelled. The first chapter talked about the fundamental requirements necessary to access psychic powers. She was intrigued. Flipping around the small book, she noticed in the front that it had been signed and had been a gift to her late husband from his great grandmother, the psychic. How coincidental, she thought. She read more of the book, and got to the part where the meditation to access the other side began. She sat quite still, lit a candle, as the book recommended, and started to do the deep breathing as instructed. She had a photo of her late husband and she put that on the side table next to her chair. She closed her eyes and talked to him in her mind. She was almost asleep when suddenly the photo fell over, glass shattering across the small table.
She sat up, alarmed. The wind was getting stronger outside, and the lights were flickering. She felt a draft move through her house and the temperature dropped instantly. There was a loud popping sound and all of the lights went out. She pulled the blanket up over her head, grasping her cell phone, which still seemed to have service. Dialing her daughter’s number, she waited as it rang and rang. She heard a howling wind, which crescendoed up and down, sounding eerily similar to the howling she had heard in the cave. Lighting a few more candles, she made her way into the kitchen to check the land line. It was out. She peered outside, but the visibility was zero. Sandstorms could do this. She poured herself a glass of sherry, sat on a stool in the cozy kitchen, and sipped it quickly to calm her nerves.
Suddenly the wind paused, and just then she heard a coin drop on the tile floor in the middle of the kitchen. In the candlelight, she saw it. Another one! Where had it come from? Terrified, she walked over and nervously reached down to pick up the gold object. Holding it in the candlelight, she was shocked to see that it was the same exact coin she had tossed down into the deep cavern earlier that same day. How could it be? If someone was playing a trick on her, she wanted it to stop now! She held the coin and stared at the details. Yes, this was the same face and inscription, there was no doubt about it. She placed it on the counter and took a photo of it with her cell phone. She tried her daughter again to no avail. Then she texted her. No answer.
After a few minutes, while sitting and waiting for the next gust of wind to pick up, she heard the phone ping a text. Hastily, she looked at the message. It didn’t have a sender’s name. It said, “mortale peccatum”. She texted back, “???!!!” There was no response. Now she was sure it was all a game. Could it possibly be Rosalind and Chantelle? Toying with her and playing a trick? Maybe they wanted her out of the house so they could buy it? They had mentioned that several times, as it had originally been in their family. Could the daughters of her late husband be up to something?
Her heart raced as she waited for a response. Suddenly the phone text came through again, this time it sounded even louder, she stared at the screen. “No!” The same phrase she had heard in the cave. The sound of scurrying tiny feet came from the other room getting louder as it crossed the tiles. The kitten raced towards her, and jumped onto the counter in front of her, eyes glaring at hers as it pawed for the coin. The lights flickered and clicked, then suddenly went back on. She looked around and back at the table. The kitten and the coin were gone.
Lillian was shaking with fear and moreover confusion and concern. Was she losing her mind? Just then the land line rang. She stumbled to pick up the phone and answered in a shaky voice. “Lillian, Lillian? Hey, it’s Rosalind. We wanted to check on you. This crazy storm has us all scared with power outages and whatnot. You ok?” Lillian took a breath and started to tell her friend the details of the recent events in rapid fire words. She didn’t stop talking until she heard Rosalind raise her voice. “Slow down, calm down Lillian. We’re on our way over! Keep the door locked until we get there!”
Shortly after, she saw the lights of her friend and her friend’s old Ford truck headed up her driveway. The doors slammed and they were at her door calling her name. “Lillian! We’re here!” She weakly pulled the door open, and they tumbled in from the violent wind outside. The door slammed shut, sealing all of them inside the cavelike home.
Lillian, there’s something we need to tell you. The cave we took you to, well, it has multiple exits. One of them exits in the direction of your property, and if our mapping is accurate, which I’m pretty sure it is, that opening is exactly beneath your house. In the basement. Have you noticed anything strange? Could it be that you’ve been holding onto something that the spirit world might want? Is there unfinished business they may need to communicate with you? You need to be honest. It’s the only way to end this. Otherwise it will get worse.
Lillian felt nauseous and scared. She was about to tell the women about the inheritance collection when the distinct sound of a coin hitting the terracotta tile in the hallway caused them all to pause and turn. They stared into the hallway at the gold coin on the floor, which had dropped out of thin air. Standing up with her fists balled tightly at her sides, Rosalind demanded, “Who’s there, and what do you want!” Like a slow building tremor, the entire house began to shake and rattle. Doors and cabinets opened and slammed shut. The air temperature plummeted so low that all of them could see their breath. She wrapped her sweatshirt tightly around her body, and pulled out a small vial of liquid and a lighter from the other pocket. Removing the cap, she held the flame over the tube. Flames erupted immediately, dissipated and released a cloud of strange smoke that drifted upward and began to fill the room. Darkness came over the space and Lillian cried out in fear. “What’s happening?!” Rosalind told her to stay still and remain calm and quiet. She proceeded to move around the room chanting in another language, the same one that Lillian had heard coming from deep in the cave. Rosalind seemed to float around the edges of the room and only her silhouette was visible through the haze. Chantelle stood still next to Lillian and held her hand to comfort her. “Don’t worry, my mom knows the ways to handle this. She has deep knowledge of the spirit world”, she whispered. Lillian tried not to scream as tears rolled down her cheeks.
Rosalind was having an intense conversation with another voice that sounded distant, yet present. Although it was foreign language, clearly it was escalating into a heated argument. Suddenly, Rosalind let out a terrifying growl and the air cleared. The room temperature became normal again, lights were on, and suddenly it was as if nothing had happened. Lillian stared in disbelief. After a few moments of shock, she slowly opened her mouth to ask questions. It took time for her to formulate words. “What was that? Who was it? What do they want?” She was hysterical now with sleep deprivation and fear. The mother and daughter walked her to her big comfy chair. They sat her down and Rosalind pulled up a foot stool to sit next to her.
“Lillian, you have something that does not belong to you. It’s not yours. This is something very powerful, and the spirit claims that you have stolen it. You don’t have the right to it. The spirit is very angry. They say you do not have the “gift” to use the power. It was meant for someone else. Things will get worse until you do what is right. Do you know what this could be about? They say you know and you are being greedy and hiding the truth for your own benefit. They want you to return what is not yours or they will make your life a living hell. They are saying that this is just the beginning. If you don’t believe them now, they will force it upon you.
Lillian’s eyes were wide with fear as she blurted out rapid-fire, “Yes, yes. it’s the coins. The collection. It was in my husbands’ will and when I revised it on his deathbed, I absorbed everything into my estate. His daughters were to inherit this collection, but when I found out the value, I put it in the safety deposit box in Albequrque. Do you think this is the reason?”
Lillian’s eyes narrowed as she chose her words deliberately, “You took what did not belong to you. You were greedy and thinking only of yourself. The collection was not only of monetary value but more importantly it is spiritual currency. The coins are ancient, and they have a trajectory that must be followed. You’ve angered more than one spirit. You must give back the coins immediately or there will be dire consequences! They’ve been trying to warn you, but you have been ignoring them. This will only escalate, until you do the right thing.”Lillian looked down at her hands, slowly turning her diamond wedding ring. Pausing, she looked up at Rosalind, “I will give his daughters the coins.”
The storm had passed, and a soft pink eerie light began to fill the sky as dawn appeared. Rosalind went into the kitchen to make some coffee. She brought out a cup and handed it to Lillian as she glanced over at Chantelle who was lying on the sofa fast asleep. “Once you have returned the coins, we have to go to the cave where you can let out your secrets and ask the spirits for forgiveness.”
Chantelle and Rosalind left later that morning and Lillian prepared herself to go to the bank vault. After a shower, she carefully selected an outfit, settling on her white pants and a black silky, yet casual blouse. She added her pearl earrings but quickly changed those for the native american beaded pair she had been given by her late husband. The turquoise seed beads dangled along silvery strands and wearing them gave her a sense of comfort she so desperately needed.
She went out to the driveway and got into her forest green Range Rover. She paused, running her hand along the camel colored leather, closed her eyes and inhaled the “new car smell”. It had been a treat to herself for her birthday. She knew Carl would have been pleased to see her driving it. As she slowly made her way down the dusty road, she tuned into her favorite British station and listened to a mix of banter and music, smiling all the way to the bank. She had all but forgotten the previous night and the events that had led up to it. She felt like it might have been a crazy dream or one huge prank of some sort, but she headed to the bank intent on clearing up this mess and getting on with her life. She had enough and if she had to forfeit the coin collection in order to get some peace of mind, so be it. So be it.
As she entered the small building, she was immediately greeted by an older man in a well worn suit. “Welcome Miss Lillian, how are you? I’ve been reviewing your vault documents and I am ready for you. Right this way, please.” He was not quite her height and had an obvious comb over which he kept smoothing down. He ushered her into a corner office and she noted the torn leather chair and the dated name plate on his desk that spelled out “Bank Manager; Hal Peterson”. She explained to him why she wanted to access her vault. He was happy to indulge her, and in fact he was absolutely smitten with this exotic foreign lady. He had always admired her style and elegance. Her fragrance had filled his office and secretly he hoped it would stay like that forever. He asked her if she would like to go with him to the vault or whether she would prefer to stay in his office while he retrieved her items. She got up and went with him. The bank was an old adobe building as well and they headed towards the back, where there was a large modern looking metal wall with a heavily armed door that led to the vault. He carefully unlocked it, turned the large crank and went in ahead of her to turn on the lights. She followed him and he turned to close and locked the door behind them. Noticing her alarmed expression, he nervously smiled, telling her not to worry, it was bank protocol to keep the door locked at all times. She headed down the narrow corridor towards her lock box, and he alongside of her as he jangled the keys. The sound unnerved her as it reverberated.
He ran his hand along the wall of lock boxes, tapping intermittently, as he headed to the far corner of the vault. “Well, my lady, here it is, number 33. ” He unlocked and took the box out, set it on a small table and proceeded to remove its contents. Within the lock box, was a well worn wooden box. The only other item was her late husband’s wedding band which was in a tiny crystal glass case. She reached over to touch it briefly, before setting it aside.
She unlatched the wooden box to reveal the coin collection. There it was. Lined up in order from small to the largest sizes, each coin had a tiny corresponding number which correlated with a mini booklet which was neatly folded inside the lid of the box. She looked through the booklet and saw the various listings as they were itemized, Roman, Etruscan, etc. The values were astronomical. She lifted tray insert holding the coins, and saw underneath, in a shallow compartment was a threadbare ruby red velvet pouch, with silk ties. She gently lifted it out and placed it on the counter. She carefully untied the knot and reached in to pull out 5 coins. Different from the main collection, these coins appeared to be much older. And there it was, the same exact coin she had seen in her home. The one that the police officer had been so impressed with. She gasped. Quickly placing them back into the tiny bag, she carefully placed them back into the secret compartment and replaced all items before closing and latching the wooden box.
“Thank you for your assistance today, Hal. I will take everything with me. Do we do paperwork in your office?”
“Yes, my dear, let me carry that for you and we will go to my office to review and sign paperwork, get you all situated and send you on your merry way.”
Back in Hal’s office, Lillian sat on the edge of the frayed dark green upholstered armchair in front of his desk as he shuffled through messy piles of paperwork and pulled out some generic looking documents for her to sign. She had the precious box on her lap and even though it was fairly heavy, she wouldn’t let it out of her sight. She didn’t even trust Hal. He knew the value of her property, and one glance at him told her everything she needed to know about his lot in life. She quickly signed off on the documents, and got up to leave. Hal walked from around the desk and just stood there in front of her, staring into her eyes through his greasy glasses. “Miss Lillian? May I ask you a question?” She stared back, defiantly. In her mind she was thinking, “How dare he? Does he even realize how far out of his league I am?” Instead, she answered politely, “Why of course, Hal. Ask away. I can’t say I will have an answer for you.” He sniffed, and pushed his glasses up, then smoothed his wispy hair across his forehead. “I would like to ask you to join me for a drink at Jacob’s Tavern on Thursday. They have live folk music from 4-6, happy hour. Um, would you be interested in going with me? Just as friends and business associates of course.” She felt very annoyed. Part of living in a remote small town was that everyone knew everyone’s business, and not only did this banker know her wealth, but of course he knew her status as a widow. She feigned a kind smile and answered quickly, “Thank you for the invite, Hal. I haven’t been to Jacob’s for a while. I will let you know if I can. I have family visiting soon and very busy, you know how it goes.” He quickly changed his tone and offered to walk her out. She held the wooden box close to her chest as they headed towards her parked vehicle. While backing out of the dusty desert parking lot, she watched him standing in the doorway of the bank, leaning against the doorjamb with a penetrating glare. His eyes looked oddly sharp and she felt herself stiffen at the sight of him in her rear view mirror as she drove away.
Driving back to her house, Lillian took in the vast landscape and sighed. This was what brought them here. Together. She felt peace here, even without her late husband. He was forever in her heart and she felt his energy all around her as she headed across the rugged terrain. She parked in her driveway and carefully carried the box up the pathway to the massive door. As she got closer to the door, she felt the wind picking up again and looked off in the distance to see another storm rolling in, the fast moving clouds ominous and threatening. She unbolted the heavy lock and entered once again into her warm and inviting home. Once safe inside, she placed the wooden box on the dining table and went to make herself a coffee. As she sat at the kitchen counter while the coffee brewed, she heard a strange noise. High pitched and grating, the sound seemed to be some sort of mechanical issue coming from the basement. As she walked towards the basement door, the sound stopped abruptly. She hated going down there, not because she was afraid, but because she really had no idea how to fix these types of things, and getting a trustworthy handy man to come to her house was very difficult. The one person she trusted, Jesse, was always booked solid and never available for last minute problems.
As she poured the fresh coffee into her handcrafted mug the sound started again, this time louder and it seemed to be accompanied by a vibration which she could feel beneath the floor under her feet. She huffed in aggravation and scrolled through her numbers to find Jesse’s. She texted him and asked if he would come by for an urgent situation. She offered him double his rate. He responded immediately and told her he could be there, but not for an hour. She texted him a thank you and that she really appreciated his doing this at the last minute. Sipping her coffee, she listened to the sounds coming up from the lower levels of the home and she felt the strange tremor humming along the floorboards. She worried it could be the old furnace. As she waited on Jesse to arrive, she texted Rosalind and told her what was going on in her house. Rosalind immediately called her cell. “Lillian. Lillian, I told you what to do. Did you go get the coins? Are you going to give them back? This is the anger and vengeance just beginning. You have to listen to me. Stop being so stubborn and believe me when I tell you. You need to return what is not yours. Whatever you do, don’t go down to the basement. In fact, when Jesse comes, I will be there. I’m on my way now. You cannot handle this alone, and Jesse has no idea and he could get hurt.”
She stood by the front window holding the coffee cup in one hand, her cell phone in the other. She dimmed the house lights so that she could see more of the night view of the desert. It had a stark beauty that she could get lost in. The outlines and shapes inspired her imagination and she thought about the next painting series she had been working on featuring desert night cactus and skies.
Her momentary peace of mind was shattered by a loud bang coming from the basement again, followed by a high pitched shriek neither human nor animal. The shriek was followed by a low yet reverberating growl that resonated through the entire home. She was paralyzed and thought to herself that this must be “fight or flight”. The lights began to flicker on and off, pop and buzz like there was an electrical short. The coffee cup dropped from her hand and broke into shards at her feet. She leaned her hand against the glass of the window to steady her nerves. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and headed in a daze towards the basement door. She picked up the flashlight from the counter on her way.
Slowly she began to push the door open. It was resistant for a few seconds and suddenly the handle slipped from her grip and it opened fast, slamming against the wall from the air pressure. A rush of icy air accompanied by a vile stench made her gag. Maybe it was the adrenaline or her strong will, but she was able to emit a bellowing holler, only to be met with a mocking echo of her voice. She felt transfixed and gripped the handrail. Pointing the flashlight towards her slippers, she slowly moved down the cement steps into the basement. At the final step, she switched on the lights and saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Only the frigid temperature and foul smell which permeated the space. It was eerily silent. Then she heard it, the banging on her front door and Rosalind and Jesse yelling from outside. Jarred into awareness, she ran up the steps and across the living room to unbolt the door. Rosalind pushed by her angrily, and Jesse gently paused with a shocked look on his face. “Are you ok? I got here and Rosalind was ferociously banging on your door. What’s going on? Did anything explode? You look very pale. Let’s go sit you down and I will go check the basement, ok? Lots of technical glitches lately, and you know they say mercury in retrograde right now. ” He tried to make her laugh as he awkwardly set her on the couch and brought her some water.
Heading towards the basement door, he heard Rosalind’s chanting voice. “Rosalind!” He yelled towards her voice. “Rosalind, I’m coming to check the heater and wiring down there. What are you doing?” Rosalind appeared at the foot of the stairs with a wild expression and big eyes. “There is a problem here that you cannot fix Jesse.” He walked down the stairs anyway and moved past her with ease, covering his nose with a gloved hand. “Let me just check everything ok?” Rosalind just glared at him. “Okay, okay.” He puttered around the basement, which was clean and well finished. The ceiling was slightly low for a 6’4″ man, but nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. He walked towards the far corner, “Jeez, it smells rank in here and how is it so friggin cold? There’s gotta be an open shaft or something. It feels stronger next to this wall, Rosalind. Come over here and hold the flashlight while I check behind the furnace.” She moved close behind him and held the light so he could scan the area. “Oh, Uh huh! This is the reason right here. I told you. Check this out.” He leaned over to pry a loose piece of plywood from the wall and behind it was an opening, dark and cavernous.” The icy air rushed over them along with wretched sulphuric fumes, causing both of them to cough and gag out loud. “Holy shit, Rosalind, this is a cave entrance. I remember the floor plans for this house from years ago, before Miss Lillian moved in. There’s a cave not far from here, that exits under this structure. Right here! The noise earlier and the chilled air and that funky horrid stench, all from the cave. Any sound could be wild foxes or rodents in there. We probably need to patch the wall to seal it off completely.” Rosalind just agreed with him, in the meantime this was confirmation for her that Lillian absolutely needed to return the coin collection and probably before much longer. This was something even her powers would not be able to handle.
Jesse loped back upstairs to sit next to Lillian in the living room. “Feeling better? Guess what? Nothing to worry about. Just an open wall I need to patch up. Can I take care of that today? I’ll get some supplies from my garage and I can fix it for you. That opening was letting in cold air, and that smell which is the local well water smell. Any noises you heard were the wind blowing through that tunnel or wild animals. It is like an amplifier!” Lillian visibly relaxed and let out an audible sigh of relief. Rosalind appeared in the doorway and stared over, then rolled her eyes. “I gotta go. Let Jesse see if his repair will fix your problem. In the meantime, don’t forget what we discussed. I suggest you make that “return” as soon as possible. You don’t want more issues, trust me. ” Lillian just nodded slowly and whispered, “yes” under her breath.
Rosalind grabbed her coat, and left without saying goodbye. Lillian heard her truck back out of the driveway and peel out down the dirt road. Jesse stood up and told her he would be back within the hour with the supplies to fix the wall in the basement. She nodded and got up to walk him to the door. Just then she got a text. It was from Hal at the bank. She felt irritated and annoyed and wondered what he wanted now. The text read, “Please say you can meet me at Jacob’s. It’s important. It’s strictly business, but we can enjoy the band and happy hour. Meet me tomorrow at 4.” She rolled her eyes and answered with one word, “okay”. She noted it in her calendar and went to put her coffee cup in the dishwasher and straighten up the place. She swept the dust that Jesse and Rosalind had tracked in and told herself she needed to remind people about her shoes off policy. She placed the basket of disposable shoe covers on the counter by the door.
Jesse returned within the hour as he said he would. He told Lillian he would need about an hour or two, and he headed down to the basement. She sat down in her comfy chair and picked up the strange book again. Flipping through it she noticed a couple of dog eared pages. and paused to see a phrases underlined in pencil. In Latin was a curse that read “Fur mentes et oculos in templo suo perdet.”Lillian used her basic knowledge of Latin along with google to find the meaning of the underlined phrase to mean a fascimile of: “the thief shall lose their minds and their eyes in his own temple.” She sighed with exhaustion, down the book, and picked up a small photo album from the table and leafed through the recent vacation photos. It made her happy with memories and it made her think of planning another trip sooner than later. She needed to be in a luxury hotel with a spa and fine dining. Enough was enough lately, she thought to herself. She dozed off in her chair until a while later Jesse came back upstairs and cleared his throat to wake her without scaring her. “All set, Miss Lillian. All sealed up and done. No more draft and no more stench coming from the opening. I also put some charcoal and camphor in the basement to absorb and residual odors. I’ll charge you for 2 hours, if that’s ok?” She smiled, “Thank you so much Jess, I don’t know what I would have done without you. I thought I was losing my mind. Thank you. Here, come over to my desk and let me write you a check, if that’s ok?” Jesse followed her and she wrote him a generous check for a full day’s work, not only the few hours. It was well worth it to her.
That night she slept fitfully, with continued dreams of her late husband in various stages of health. She woke up from a nightmare in which she ran through dark corridors into a muddy wall with no exit after being chased by invisible demons. The following morning, she got up early, determined to reset her mind and body. She checked her calendar, got ready for yoga class. Seeing the post it note reminder invitation to meet Hal at Jacob’s, rolled her eyes, and decided she would go and find out what he wanted.
That afternoon after a relaxing morning of yoga and brunch at the cafe with a few other yoga students, she carefully selected a proper southwest look to wear to the bar. It was an old saloon that served as not only the local watering hole, but also as a music and spoken word venue. She was wearing her favorite faded denim dress with tan cowboy boots, turquoise and gold earrings and a tan leather jacket with fringe along the back in a v. Her long hair was brushed into a soft bun with a few wisps, reminiscent of the late 1800s Gibson girls. She loved that look. She swiped on a bit of red lipstick and she was ready to go. Pausing, she selected a fragrance, nothing sexy, just fresh and clean. Didn’t want to give Hal the wrong impression, but she did like to keep up appearances.
She drove into town and parked in the dusty lot of Jacob’s Saloon. There were only a couple of other vehicles there. A vintage red Ford pick up and a silver Subaru Outback. She assumed that was Hal’s car, but then again he might drive a vintage truck. The air was cool as it was 4 pm and she pushed the door open to find the place dimly lit and cozier than the last time she was here, which was a while back. There was a small stage where a trio was setting up to play and the tables and chairs were set up in front of the stage with red glass votive candles, giving it a nostalgic feel. At the bar sat a few customers, and Hal who stood up and walked towards her with a smile. He looked different that last time she saw him. He had shaved and he was wearing a western shirt with jeans. He didn’t have his glasses on and he sported a cowboy hat. “Howdy, pretty lady.” He greeted her in an exaggerated southern accent. “Let’s sit at the bar, have a drink and something to eat. You know they have a fantastic happy hour menu here. It’s some of the tastiest local food you can find.”
She ordered a martini. He had a bourbon on the rocks. They shared chips and guacamole while waiting for the special of the day. “So, as I told you, this is business, so let me lay it out there for you.” Hal started to tell her about a side business of his where he would broker sales between private buyer and sellers. Something he had been doing for a while, since he was the keeper of the lock boxes in the bank, he had many clients who had their valuables listed and some of them when in need would ask him to find a buyer. He had “connections” all over the world. And, he wanted to let her know that there was one buyer for antique coins, specifically the Roman coins of which she had one listed in her valuables. The one coin was worth well over a million dollars, and Hal told her that if she was interested, he could broker a deal for a small percentage and she could get cash from the buyer. He had her full attention. Her eyes shone in the dimly lit bar. “Well, this is indeed interesting, Hal. But, I can sell the coins myself. Are you sure this isn’t more for your personal benefit?” Hal shook his head. “No, no, no my lady. To sell coins takes a lot of time and energy. Time is money as they say. For you to find a buyer on your own will be a lot of work, and then you never know if they have the funds, and if they do, how do you get it? You can get ripped off or worse. Think about it. It’s one coin he is interested in. You have in your collection one of the highest valued Roman coins in history. The infamous Brutus coin. My buyer is fully vetted and absolutely good for the money. He only deals in cash, and I take 15% broker fee. You would have the cash in your account within 24 hours and the deal is done. Think of what you could do with that kind of money! Not to mention, you still have the rest of the entire collection at your disposal, to sell or keep. With that kind of windfall, you could build that compound on your property that you have been dreaming of with a full blown spa and pool! Think about it. I have the buyer, you have the coin he wants. Easy. I’ll give you a few days to think it over.” Hal yelled over to the bartender to bring them both another round. He raised his glass to hers and said, “To the deal of a lifetime!” She smiled and took a big sip of her martini, thinking about being able to buy her daughters new cars, investing in her grandkid’s college funds, and creating the spa of her dreams. The lights dimmed as the band began to play folk music on the small stage. She relaxed and drifted along with the notes of the songs. They finished their drinks and she told him she needed to head out. He walked her to her car and she thanked him for the drinks. He told her to seriously consider the proposition and that he would make himself available for any questions or concerns she might have. He reiterated that this was a once in a lifetime offer, and that she would never find a buyer of this caliber, especially offering cash payment in full. He also reminded her that nobody was going to even notice one coin missing out of the collection.
Back at home later that evening, Lillian called her daughters on FaceTime. She spilled her guts about the scary events in the house, and asked their advice about the coin offer from Hal. They all chimed in at once. “Mom, Mum, Mum, Mum. Come on! Sell it. It’s just one coin and that cash would be amazing! Sell it.” She paused. Yes, but, what about the collection. Should I return it to his daughters? I am starting to wonder if there is something to these weird events that have been going on. I’m not superstitious and I’ve never been very fearful, you girls know that. But, lately things have gotten very uncomfortable for me. “I don’t know Mom, that’s up to you, but those coins are worth a lot. Even if you sell one now, we could use the rest later.” The other daughters agreed. Lillian said she needed to think about it all, but she would agree to sell the one coin to Hal.
She sat at the large oak desk in her late husband’s office, using a magnifying glass to examine the ancient gold Roman coin.
The highly valuable coin was one of very few remaining, and she dove deep into researching the history. Apparently, Brutus was proud of his deadly work on Ceaser, and made his claim to power in gold. This gave another level of meaning to the famous Shakespeare phrase, “Et tu, Brute!” Her jaw dropped as she learned more about the very rare and highly valuable coin in her hand. She read about the fact that this most desirable coin in history was Brutus’ way of celebrating his murderous achievement. Known as the Ides of March coin, it was created to celebrate the date of the killing. The coin was supposed to promote Brutus’ claims to take Caesar’s place. In fact, he was to take his own life after a brief civil war followed Caesar’s death. No wonder it was so valued! Hal had mentioned that it would sell for 5 million and he was not lying. Owo styles of coin were struck, one in silver and one in gold and there were around 85 known surviving coins, most in museums, with a few in unknown collections. She really had struck gold!
Brutus
She reached out to a fellow academic with a focus on Roman history and told him she was doing a dissertation on Ancient Rome and Julius Caesar. She did not disclose any details of the sale or her ownership, but she wanted to gather as much information as possible on this collection. He confirmed to her that the Brutus coin was indeed one of the most highly valued in history and although most were in museums, there were a few unaccounted for and highly coveted with buyers offering in the millions to add to their collections.
She slipped the coin into an antique velvet box on the desk and hid it in a compartment in the drawer.
Sitting in the leather desk chair, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Her restful moment was interrupted by a hot breath on her neck and a familiar latin phrase whispered into her ear, “Fur mentes et oculos in templo suo perdet.” A horrid smell encapsulated her and she felt nauseous and dizzy. Gripping the desk, she braced herself to stand up, but immediately felt vertigo come over her and fell down onto the plush antique Persian carpet.
She heard a familiar voice calling, “Lillian, Lillian, are you ok? Hey? It’s Rosalind. We couldn’t reach you so I called the paramedics and when we got here, we found you on the floor. They said you must have been dehydrated. You have to be sure to drink enough water after yoga and you know how the dessert can insidiously dehydrate us. They have you on a hydration IV.” Cracking her eyes open, she saw Rosalind sitting in a chair next to her bed, and she could see the windows and felt the soft comforter on her skin. From the corner of her eye she saw the IV stand and noticed her arm with a tube. “I’ve contact your girls and told them what happened, and I promised I will stay with you until you feel better.” Lillian felt her eyes getting heavy and she fell into a deep sleep. In her dreams, the small cat appeared, climbing her bare legs until it reached her arm, and then jumping onto her clenched fist where it scratched and pawed at her palm until it bled. She opened her palm and the gold coin dropped out. The cat swiftly batted it to the floor and jumped down landing on top of it. Then it disappeared and suddenly she heard her late husband’s voice. “Mortal sin, mortal sin.”
Waking up, she had no idea where she was, what time it was or why she was in bed at all. The disorientation was severe and she stared up at the ceiling trying to understand. Again, she heard a voice, yet she had no idea who it might be. “Lillian? Lillian. Hello there. How are you feeling?”
She had no idea who it was. “Who are you! What do you want from me? Go away! Go!” She began to cry loudly. She thrashed and realized that she had been tethered to the bed. “Lillian, it’s Rosalind, you’ve been very stressed and we had to make sure you would not hurt yourself. You’ll be ok. You’re recovering.” Lillian screamed at the top of her lungs and then let out a loud hissing sound, and watched as her own breath drifted across the ice cold room. “Why why why why why.” She repeated in a deep hissing tone. Rosalind stood over her and sprayed her with a fine mist while reciting some strange words. Lillian screamed loudly and squeezed her eyes shut tight before blacking out. Silence.
Rosalind sat in the kitchen with her daughter. Chantelle rolled her eyes as Rosalind reiterated that Lillian had to return the coins to the rightful heirs. “Ma, you know she is not going to do it. She might agree to it, but you know her. You know how she is. And now, who knows when she will recover! I don’t know why you are so damn invested. For all I care, let her rot.”
Rosalind inhaled deeply. “You know it’s more than that, Chantelle. There is such a thing as history and there are spirits to respect. You’ve experienced the mysterious and powerful energies. My lineage and connection obligates me to do what is right. I can’t just leave a situation because it’s inconvenient to me. I thought you understood this.
“Yeah, but I just want a normal life. I’m not like you. I don’t care and I’m not invested. I just go along because I have to. It’s ok Ma. I just don’t like her. You know, I just think she had a bad character. Some people don’t change. Not everybody is good and not everyone is going to do the right thing.”
Rosalind sighed, as she stared at a photo of Lillian with her perfect daughters, their husbands and grandkids, everyone smiling from a gondola in the Swiss alps. “I know, I know. I just want to be a conduit for them to see the light, but I do know that some humans are incapable of change and they are selfish til the end. I know, Chantelle. I also do know the truth.”
Rosalind and Chantelle ordered pizza to be delivered and stayed up late watching tv and checking on Lillian intermittently. She was in a deep sleep. The house was unusually cold, but they had brought their own blankets and they were able to keep warm in the living room. Lillian’s bedroom was like an ice box. Rosalind woke up at dawn, exhausted. She immediately went to check on Lillian who looked surprisingly refreshed and calm. She stood over the bed and touched her arm. “Lillian are you awake dear?” Lillian cracked her eyes open and smiled. “Yes, I’m awake.” The air was clear in the room and a bird sang outside the window. Rosalind gently untied the tethers that had kept Lillian from thrashing. She checked the hydration IV and called the medics to come by and check on her. It seemed she had recovered from her dehydration and things were on the upswing. “I’ll go make you some toast, ok, you put be hungry!” “Yes, I’m starved!” Lillian laughed and propped herself up on a pillow.
After eating a big breakfast in bed, she seemed like her old self all over again. Rosalind told Chantelle to go home because the worst of it was over. Chantelle gladly took off and enjoyed the beautiful morning walk back to the village. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
The medics arrived shortly and they were able to remove the IV and gave Lillian a thorough check up. They confirmed that indeed it looked like a severe case of dehydration. Something they were all too familiar with out here in the desert. They told a story of a neighbor who was found months after passing away on his patio. His decomposed body showed tell tale signs of death due to heat and water loss. It was a risk of living in this environment.
Later that day, after Rosalind and the medics had left, Lillian felt like a new woman. She went into the library and sat down at the same desk where she had experienced the “incident”. She opened the box on the desk and stared at the coins again. Picking up her cell phone, she texted Hal. “Let’s do it.” He responded with a celebratory emoji and then asked her schedule. She knew she wanted to get the cash as soon as possible so that she could take her family on a luxury cruise for the holiday season. That would be a welcome alternative to hosting it here! She started to research cruises and found a few options. A European or even Greek cruise be fabulous. She wanted it to be a surprise. She called her travel agent and was able to connect with a private yacht company offering luxurious curated trips to small groups. This sounded perfect! She went ahead and called to start the booking process. She was so excited, she could hardly contain herself. Yes, it was an exorbitant price, but she had the means now! Well, she would have it shortly as soon as the coin was sold.
She called her daughters and told them to block out a chunk of time for the families. A two month period and she would need them to pack for a long vacation. She would fill them in later with details about what to bring.
Hal texted her to tell her the buyer would be in town the following week and they could meet at his unassuming office to perform the transaction. He would be able to transfer the cash funds into a separate account for her, and the monies would be available immediately. She smiled with glee, thinking about the incredible vacation she had just booked. Walking into her massive closet, she looked around and started to pull out a few dresses and heels. She felt the silky robes she had purchased on her last trip to Thailand, and gently moved them to lay on the sumptuous bed. The gossamer silks shone in the soft light. She could not wait to have the chance to wear them. Perfect over the Gucci swimsuits she had been collecting on her trips to Italy.
She reached up for the cases of sunglasses. and pulled out a few Chanel pairs and tried one on as she looked into the mirror. Timeless chic. That’s how she liked to portray herself. She grabbed her cell phone and FaceTimed her older daughter. She grabbed an elegant sunhat and put it on with the sunglasses. “Guess what darling daughter? We are going to be the most fabulous girls on the entire trip! Get out all of your fanciest vacation outfits and get excited! I know I am!” “Mom, you’re crazy. But, you look amazing. I’m so glad you are feeling better. Can’t wait to see you Mummy and look at Charlotte! She’s super excited about the family trip too, right Charlotte? Honey come here.” She picked up her blonde curly haired child and let her wave at her grandma. Lillian waved back, blowing air kisses from under the big brim.
The following week, Hal reached out to let her know that the buyer was in town and he wanted to meet for the exchange at noon on Wednesday. She went to the desk, removed the coveted coin, and carefully placed it within her red leather wallet. She dressed in a simple Dolce Gabbana jacket over a white turtleneck, with jeans and riding boots, grabbed her favorite black fedora with a red feather and added a bit of red lipstick. Just a touch. Power moves were her specialty, and she needed the buyer to know who he was dealing with. Hal already knew his place. She headed down to the bank. As she walked across the gravel driveway, her patent black boots crunched loudly. She pushed open the door gently, and loudly called out, “Yoohooo?” Around the corner came Hal, appearing nervous and red faced. “This is it! Come on in Lillian, our lovely buyer is here. Come in and please allow me to introduce you to Nigel Rumsfelt.” “Lovely to meet you Mr. Rumsfelt.” Hal reached into a mini fridge and brought out a dusty bottle of Dom P. “This calls for a celebration. Let’s do the transaction so we can have a toast!” Sitting down on the filthy Chesterfield sofa, Lillian pulled out the red walled and carefully extracted the precious gold coin. She held it in the palm of her hand and reached out towards the buyer. “This is it. I hope you will cherish it as much as it has been cherished by its previous owners.” His eyes lit up and he reached out and carefully lifted it from her pale palm. He held it in front of his eyes and pulled out a magnifying eyeglass to examine it thoroughly. He gasped with glee. “I cannot believe it! This is the treasure of a lifetime. I am beyond words. I am thrilled beyond words.” He opened a small brown engraved leather case and gingerly inserted the coin into the green felt pocket within. He then opened a leather briefcase which held clean and neatly wrapped bundles of money with straps and amounts clearly notated. “5 Million, and I have separated the broker’s fee for our friend Hal. ” He passed Hal a small bundle containing another group of strapped bills. “750,000 for you. And, I owe you a dinner at Genevieve’s Steakhouse next time you are in Phoenix!” Lillian tried to keep her cool, but she felt her palms sweating with excitement. She had never seen money like this, and receiving over 4 million dollars cash was a windfall she would never have dreamt of. She smiled as Hal popped the champagne bottle. He poured generously into 3 vintage cut crystal champagne glasses and handed them out. They raised their glasses and made a toast. Lillian, in her excitement, yelled out “to Brutus!”. They all laughed hysterically and finished the bottle.
Out on the mesa in the distance, a small figure sat on the ground. Rosalind wrapped herself in a blanket and burned sage, watching the smoke dissipate into the air around the cave opening. She sang a mournful song that floated across the sand swept landscape.
The house remained calm. She was finally able to sleep once again. Every morning felt special waking up in her wonderful bed and every evening she took her relaxation time in the bath with her favorite fragrant products. Life was good. Lillian was so happy that she had figured out the problem in her basement, and that Jesse had been able to fix it. Her life was looking up. Selling the remarkable coin would be life changing and she had plans to return the remaining collection to the family. All of it, including those nasty conjuring coins. She actually felt a deep sense of relief. She knew that stuff was all a bunch of made up garbage all along. She had a moment of weakness, but it was likely just unprocessed grief, something she knew quite a bit about from her therapy sessions. She reached out via email to invite her late husband’s adult children for a conference zoom and she was prepared to admit keeping the collection, and she would send the precious cargo via DHL to the destination of their choosing. Of course she would omit the one coin she was selling. They would never know anyhow. They were ignorant and would likely lose the whole set regardless. At least she got the prize out of the crackerjack box, so to speak! She laughed to herself as she brushed her hair with the French boar bristle she had picked up at a hair salon in Paris. She really loved the finer things in life, and she was elated that she would be able to share the upcoming adventure in paradise with her family.
The next few weeks were uneventful. Lillian was back to her favorite routine morning yoga, coffee shop visits with friends. She saw a lot less of Rosalind and Chantelle though. They were said to be busy working on starting a new art gallery in the next town. She tried to reach out and left messages but only got short answers. No matter to her, she figured that the friendship had run its course and she knew they didn’t really see eye to eye. She wanted to keep the connection, especially since they were going to open a new gallery, and she would love to show off more of her work.
November was around the corner and the air cooled as the days got shorter. She had been leisurely packing for the cruise and had ordered a few lovely new items to wear as well. She carefully picked up a small framed photo of her husband and folded it neatly inside of a silk nightgown, one of his favorites. She placed it inside the soft lining of the Louis Vuitton suitcase he had given her for her 50th birthday. Then she began carefully putting items in, folding them neatly and putting into inserts first. She misted some of her favorite fragrance over the air above the suitcase and leaned over to inhale the lovely rich fragrance. Finally, the suitcase was full, and she opened the next one. For the long journey, she would need more than one.
The next evening over home cooked shrimp scampi, she watched her favorite shows and fell asleep in front of the tv. She was ready for her trip and had arranged for an Uber to take her to the airport. She would be meeting the kids at JFK where they would converge on route to the cruise port. Jesse and his girlfriend would check on her house weekly, and she was confident that it would be locked up safe and sound. Plus she had the security system updated, which gave her added confidence.
The day before the trip, she had sent out the box of coins via highly secured DHL and sent the tracking info to the family of her late husband.
Everything went to plan and the family found each other and made it to the port of call right on time. The massive yacht was prepared for them and they were welcomed on the private cruise by a full staff, including not only chefs, but masseuses and a makeup artist, hair stylist and even a mani-pedi lounge. This was going to be an epic trip. Worth every penny. And, the best part was that the trip barely put a dent in her bank account, thanks to the sale of the gold coin. The ship sailed off into the Mediterranean Sea with the family in high spirits.
Back on the mesa, the house stood all alone, a silhouette at night framed by cactuses. Occasionally, the owls who nested in the towering flora hooted and hollered into the darkness. It was a few nights in from the departure date that the house began to develop hairline fractures. When Jesse and his wife stopped by to check on the property, he noticed the cracks on the facing of the house, and wondered whether there had been a small tremor. There was no record of one in recent days, so he assumed it was just regular wear and tear from the heat. They left and returned a week later and Jesse told his girlfriend he wanted to just go inside and check on the basement. As he unbolted the front door, he was confronted with a blast of icy air and and a horrific putrid odor that stopped him in his tracks. He leaned over about to throw up outside the front door. His girlfriend ran over then started to gag. “My god, what the hell is that fucking smell! Jesse, don’t go in there. We should call the cops. What if it’s a dead body?” Jesse told her to wait outside, wrapped his scarf around his face, and he went in. The interior of the home was dark, all of the shades down and curtains drawn as Lillian had left it. Switching on the light, he immediately saw the basement door open across the hallway. He thought it could be that the repair he did was broken and that some sort of animals had gotten in and maybe one had died in the house. He yelled down the stairs as he flicked on the lights. He heard scurrying sounds of small feet and saw a kitten run by and out of sight. Then he heard a low growl. Chills ran up his spine as he paused and listened. There it was again, a growling sound and hissing noises. He panicked and ran back up the steps and bounded across the living room towards the front door. He went to open it and it was jammed. He pounded on the huge wooden behemoth and his girlfriend yelled from the other side. Suddenly he heard a window crash, and his girlfriend was there calling him to climb out. He grabbed a large vase and and bashed the edges of the broken glass away before maneuvering through the opening out into the cool desert air. “Let’s get out of here!” She grabbed his arm and tugged hard, “We need to call the cops, now!”. He opened the truck door for her and they got in and took off while she called the police.
The sun was setting and the landscape glowed and glittered with intermittent specks of gold and red that glinted off of the surface. As the cruiser made its way up to Lillian’s home, one of these glowing embers turned out to be a house, it was Lillian’s house that was on fire. They got as close as possible while radio calling the fire department. The flames whipped wildly around the entire structure, as a strange wind picked up, and cause the fire to devour it within minutes. The flames incinerated the entire property, until there was only a pile of ash and chunks of embers left smoldering on the sandy ground. The fire department was able to put out the rest of it and all that was left was the piles of ash. Jesse walked over, dismayed and confused. One of the police officers came over and stood next to him in front of the place where the massive door had been. He looked around shaking his head. Suddenly he he inhaled sharply as something caught his eye. He bent down by the tree to pick up the same gold coin he had seen in the bathroom that time he had come to Lillian’s home to investigate the earlier break-in incident with the kitten. He held it up to examine it before slipping into his shirt pocket behind his badge and turned to walk back to his car.
Meanwhile out on the open seas of the Mediterranean, an unexpected storm had whipped up into a frenzy in the middle of the night. They had all been tucked into the suites below, but were awakened when the super yacht began to rock violently. Hurricane force winds howled across the tumultuous waves as it was tossed about like a toy on the dark waters. Lillian tried to get reception on her cell phone as she grabbed her robe to get up. Something touched her face and then she heard a loud whisper right in her ear that said, “Brutus”. Alarmed and afraid, she made her way to the door, and used the handrails to steady herself as she ventured down the hallway of the small galley calling out to her daughters who she could hear crying out. The captain and crew yelled into the wind as they cranked the winch above. Just as she got towards the foot of the stairs to the galley, there was a deafening lightening strike followed by a massive crashing sound overhead. The sealed doorway to the deck vibrated with loud pounding sound as it was forced open by a cascade of frigid roiling sea water. She didn’t even have time to scream before the entire cabin flooded and the massive elegant yacht capsized.
Lost Art of Mystery 
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