Chapter Five

In my dreams, memories of the past flow-through of all the old ladies who were always delighted in gathering at the steps at the house of Ms. Betty Lou, where they lollygagged and espoused the daily rumors and gossip of the town.

These old women delighted in seeing me, with their elegant wide smiles stretching the width of their faces and coveting me in their large, thick arms that reminded me sometimes of my grandmothers and their Sunday meals that made me feel rooted and grounded in the community in which I lived. Today, I must journey back there, to the old women, to my mama and papa. They all slipped into the waves of my dreams.

When the dream ended, I rose with weary eyes and spirits. To my last journey, I prepared for the last embrace of all the people who knew and cared about me. As I thought about that, now in the deepest space of my heart, there is doubt and still, yet the need to push on is there.

The sun is not shining when I find myself outside. A carriage is passing by and I manage to not trip over my skirts while waving it down and trying to get in.

"Where to ma'am?"

"To Malloray Train Station please.

"As you wish ma'am."

We rode off through the trees, narrowly separating the poor and rich communities. We passed into the town, where these two communities connect through the bars, libraries, and bakeries, and had quite an active atmosphere. Truly then I began to take in everything as if I were a dying woman. Tears trickled down, making rivers down my cheek and pain began to engulf my chest. These abundant and vast landscapes passing by, and finding myself soothed by the houses; red, yellow, and orange leaves, as well as the starting rain, my eyes began to flutter and close in denial of my fear.

***

In a spacious room, where despite the outside grittiness, the brown wooden floors along with the emerald green gave Margery a sense of comfort. There were of course the plants that sat on a white surface counter.

"I haven't heard from her in two days Miles, and I feel we should check in on her." Remarked Margery as she kept stirring the green tea in the china teacup in front of her.

"You know what I think?" Miles lifted his cup and took a healthy sip of his tea and savored it. "I think she's just needing a moment to herself. After all that happened to her those days ago, she needs a break. "

"But what if we should be by her side comforting her? I know that this is all about the supernatural, but besides the story you told, which clearly has a good and bad, what else is so bad about them?" She questioned with a little urgency and passion in her voice.

Miles inhaled as if he were tired of explaining the reasons behind avoiding the beings beyond the ordinary.

"Because they deem themselves beyond the codes of human morality and if humans get in the middle of the chaos and surreal lives of these creatures, they are often killed or end up in a fate worst than death."

Margery sat with this thought for a time and tried to let it process. This book couldn't be real right? How could a book transport you into another world? Despite Miles's story, what other proof did she have of the supernatural and that these beings really existed?

"When we all were drunk and inebriated, I was also paying attention to the conversation happening between Vanity and another college girl our age."

He paused before expanding the thought, scared of the possibilities he surmised if Vanity had gone looking for the book.

"The book, no the world she wants to go looking for a new life in, is full of violence and destruction. Now, why would she give up such a comfortable and happy life for that?"

His voice was veiled with frustration and his glare was as if Margery had been struck with a hammer. She turned away.

"What if we're only assuming she's happy?" Margery's voice broke through with sorrow in her voice.

It all goes back to silence, and it was pregnant with fear and doubt, but most of all, a deep hair-raising worry.

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will get to see her. Perhaps then we can dispel her."

Margery was anxious to go now, but she nodded and bid Miles a goodbye.

I came to when we were at the train station and a from a conductor standing by, I paid the money for my ticket and climbed aboard and sat in the back for my comfort. Just as I did in the carriage, I looked out the window, seeing the changing landscapes, and daydreamed. Thoughts of my hometown and the people within it appeared. Who else would be still living out of the old ladies who gave me snacks and beg me of my company?

All the landscapes of which we passed, I focused on those so that I may not think of possible deaths, until very familiar simple and grouped houses, the tiny marketplaces and neat buildings and churches appeared in my sight. Comfort and anxiety tangled in my chest. It was the first time I breathed in my chest for four years.

There weren't many miles thereafter to walk, so I decided instead of a carriage, I would walk and see all the places and settings I missed by being away for so long. I would fulfill myself with their affections and the dinner where we would have talked around the table and my last memories of them would be the love they spread in my life. But how in your mind, do you say, 'Goodbye. I shall never see you again.' in a blessed and simple manner? How do you say goodbye forever, mama and papa?

While I pondered these thoughts, I came across the house my mother and father lived in, velvet red and on a street lined with other houses, and felt the cold breeze of nostalgia on my neck. I moved along the cement stairs and raised my hand to knock, only for them to come softly.

Then, I heard footsteps near the door. It flung open and I saw the butterscotch skin of my mother, looking frail and fragile.

She looked at me, a smile rose upon her face, bright dancing. When she enraptured me in her arms and pushed me against her chest, it felt as if the whole earth was in rapture.

"Mama!" I squealed.

"My baby! My Vanity! I've missed you." She croaked in my ear as she held me tight and close. My vision blurred from tears and I collapsed in my mother's arms, suddenly feeling all the cares of the world evaporating.

"Come on, get up. Soon your father will be here through this door and he won't like seeing us crying our hearts out. You know he could never take seeing you crying. Get ready and wash up. I'm getting dinner ready." She led me up to the stairs.

"I would've made your favorites, but I didn't know you were coming. What I have though you'll still love."

She smiled and turned away, walking down the stairs slowly, as if her legs were beginning to not work anymore.

I fought back more tears threatening to emerge while finding the bathroom with the same drawn couples dancing in silhouettes at the top of our walls in repetition. It had the same confusing marble blue wallpaper and the same bucket we used to grab our bathwater. There seemed to already be drawn water, hot as steam unraveled through the air.

So, I bathed in a pristine bowl we never had before, taking in the changes and those that stayed the same in my now-adult perspective that happens when you are finally grown enough to really look and observe. Downstairs, I could hear the voice of my father doting on my mother.

When I got done, I grabbed my dress to cover myself while looking towards my mother's room and grabbing one of her dresses (To when she asked me why I didn't bring any clothes with me, I had answered I was going on a journey soon and just decided to drop by) and walked down the stairs. I could hear them in the kitchen getting the table ready and the hidden village of my childhood surrounded me.

I walk towards the dining room, standing against the wall, watching the rotation of domestic lovers around the table. My father turned around at the noise of my feet hitting against the wall and even more light bloomed in his eyes.

"Vanity." His voice rose a thread, he held open his arms and I met him there in his embrace.

"Don't crush the girl now William!" Mother broke through with an amused glint in her voice.

Soon we had begun to settle in for dinner, which was stuffed and creamed chicken, tiny and baked red potatoes, and peas that had the coloring of granny smith green apples. Home-cooked meals constantly echoed in my stomach and head when I left home. Food was a means to show love. The thought brought up the memories of Ms. Betty Lou, Mrs. Ruth Allister, and Ms. Harleen Glisten.

"When I was walking here, I didn't see any of the old women that would be there on the porch. Did they go inside the house already?"

There was a pause that almost made me choke.

There was a heaviness that came upon my mother's face.

"That house…it isn't theirs anymore. They passed away baby."

"Oh," I mumbled. I could feel my heart falling out.

My father cleared his throat.

"How about we look at the happier points in life. How's school going? Any new friends? Interests?"

For as fast as I broached the topic, it was gone right in front of me. I don't think it will be so easy when I'm lying in bed tonight, as I persuade my heart to open and find myself crying at lost people gone.

"Well," I plastered a smile. "I work as a librarian within my school and I hang out with some friends from there named Miles and Margery. Sometimes we go to the bar after or hang out at each other's houses."

"That sounds swell honey. Bring them by one day, I'd love to meet them."

I paused for a moment.

"I sure will mother," I whispered.

Above us, nailed on the wall was a cuckoo clock that rang with a couple embracing popping in and out of its hole.

"Well, time to go clean up and go rest. Tomorrow is a day for work." My mother exclaimed. I kept a smile on my face, but if you could see the weathered look in my eyes, you would know disappointment purely. I helped clean up the bowls and plates, helped clean the table. There was the thought that the last train home would be leaving soon. I wanted more time with them, but time is uncertain, and it flees.

"Mother. Father, I must go tonight. I have work tomorrow." They both turned to look at me with unreadable expressions. Then sadness reached them. It was as if they knew they would never behold my appearance, my very being, ever again.

"Before you go Vanity," she plucked the chain from her neck. A golden locket with our family picture. "Take it with you and treasure it. I want to see you wearing it when I see you again."

I nodded and wrapped them in a hug so hard, it almost stole my breath. I took flight into the night, finding a carriage after a bit of a walk, and came to the train station where there is few as the train pulled up. Purchasing my ticket, I got on the train and stared out at the multitude of stars rising on the horizon of the universe. I forced myself to stay awake, watching as the trees began to meld together and fade from memory.

The train stops in the town where we all wadded out to waiting loved ones and friends. Not me, I'm all alone I caught a carriage and found that a void of lost burrowed its way inside of me.

When at last I got into the house, I stripped and tied my locket around my neck before finding my bed in the darkness. The winds seemed especially strong, roaring with fear even. It felt as if I were being sucked through a vortex and my dreams became a troubled haze of a new world. We were all doomed to trouble.

***

And Vanity was right. The whole town struggled in their dreams, but especially Miles and Margery, whose bodies felt a deep foreboding.