Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (20 page)

“He practiced yoga and meditation?”

“Not so much yoga, but yes, he meditated daily. His mother strongly believed in it. She had learned it from her parents, and she had passed the practice on to her children. It was an important part of their heritage. I’m happy to see that you carry it on.”

Always, I found my Cherokee heritage fascinating. I’d loved hearing the stories my mother told about Morgan and his family when I was a kid. He’d never seemed like a real person to me, but that had just made my grandfather that much cooler. He was a mythical figure of legends.

Grandma turned her head so that she could look into my eyes. That weird sense of knowing that I had gotten before when I looked into my mother’s eyes on that birthday so long ago resurfaced as I gazed into Grandma’s dark brown eyes. I had known this woman before. Over and over, we had known one another through lifetimes again and again and again.

“The Deveraux boy—he’s got what it takes to bring you to life. I know you find it hard to believe in such things. I used to be the same way before I met your grandfather. But they listened to the world on a frequency that many people don’t even realize exists. I get the feeling that if you’re patient, you’ll find out just how right she was.”

“And what about Brian?” I demanded. “It’s taken me so long to finally get to the point where I feel ready to let him in, let myself fall for him.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because my mother once told me someone else was The One!” I said hotly. “And because I love her so much, I believed it! That kind of shit doesn’t exist.”

“Oh, but it does. The moment I met Morgan, I knew he was The One for me. When your mother laid eyes on Sigmund, she knew he was The One
.
Just because it doesn’t happen for everyone doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

“It’s fucked up if it does! What about how Brian and I feel for each other?”

“Honey, you can decide to go ahead and fall in love with him. If you do, I truly believe you can be happy. But he’ll never make you feel alive. He’ll never encourage the spark inside you like little Philip can. It’s not like you don’t have a choice.”

Little Philip…he’s not so little anymore.

I wondered if she had any idea of what he looked like now.

“Just be patient a little while longer. Don’t make any decisions on the matter.”

“I’ve waited long enough,” I told her flatly. “Not once has Phil tried to contact me at all, Grandma.”

“Have you tried to contact him?”

“No.”

Suddenly, I wondered why that was.
Why haven’t I tried? Why did I just sit here and wait? Why haven’t I taken the initiative?

“I think you had to find out who you were first before you lose yourself to someone else. That way, you never forget who you truly are, how strong you really are on your own. And you’re not just strong, Kenna. You’re a power to be reckoned with. Never forget that.”

I like that—a power to be reckoned with. I’ll have to remember that one.

In silence, we lay like that until I finally drifted off—comfortable in my own skin, if not in my head.

“
You met him
—
The One!” My mother laughs, dancing around me, while I’m rooted into the ground, upside down.

My arms are aching. The roots of my hair are aching, too. My head feels fit to burst. For six long years, the blood has pooled in it, making my feet numb. I try to wiggle my toes, but I only feel the painful sensation of them. After being asleep for far too long, they prickle viciously.

“I can’t exist like this!” I scream. “I’m done! No more!”

“What did I tell you, my Little Zephyr, my little breath of fresh air, my little cool breeze, my mighty gust of love?”

“Don’t call me that!” I snarl.

I’m struggling so hard, straining against my own limbs, against how hard and wooden they’ve become. With all my might, I push and pull, tugging on my roots. My fingers and wrists slowly responded beneath the soil, trying to uproot myself.

“What did I tell you? What did I tell you? I told you!” she roars, throwing her head back.

Beneath me, the earth trembles, shaking harder and harder with each second that passes. The soil falls away from my fingers, my wrists, my forearms.

What did she tell me?

“
When you try to break freeeee!” Her voice sings, and I can almost see the vibrations of it going out into the universe, calling something close.

“I can’t stop thinking about you!” I hear
his
voice. “I can’t stop wanting my fists in your haaaair!”

It’s coming from everywhere! It’s above me, below me, pulsing through me. It surrounds me, jump-starting a rush of adrenaline, and I’m able to move my waist, planting my deadened feet onto the ground.

“…pulling back your head…”

“No!” I scream. I can’t feel my legs. They’re so painfully numb. I tug and tug at my arms, pulling them out of the reluctant ground. It wants to hold me hostage, so he can come and take me whenever he wants.

“…making you beg…”

“Fuck you!”

“Ba-ha-ha-ha-ha!” my mother cackles madly. “I’ve called him down on you, Zephyr! The Dark God of the Universe isn’t going to let his Baby Girl escape again!”

“She has a choice!” Grandma calls out from the shadows. “And she’s a power to be reckoned with!”

“There is no choice!” my mother shouts. “She is his!”

The blood surges through my legs. I can feel them. I shoot forward at a dead sprint into the jungle, into the wild grass and bushes and trees. I’m running straight for the Plantation House. I shouldn’t be. He’s there. But I can’t make my body, my feet obey—

I slam into a huge, strong warm wall, and it wraps itself around me.

He
whispers, “Don’t go anywhere.”

The sound of my own breath being sucked violently into my lungs awakened me, and I bolted upright. My heart was pounding, and I was panting and sweating as though I’d run a great distance uphill. My lungs were burning with it.

Where the hell am I?

Grandma’s bedroom.

My eyes were fighting to adjust to the lack of light, slowly seeing the filter of early dawn through the curtains.

Shit, I’m going to wake her up.

I looked down to see Grandma, her head tilted slightly toward me, in the same exact position she had been in hours before.

“Grandma?” I whispered.

Reaching out, I took hold of her hand…her stiff, lifeless cold hand.

My throat closed tightly, and my eyes filled with burning tears. It was happening again, that endless pit of grief opening up its maw and swallowing me up.

“Oh no,” I sobbed.

My heart was shattering once more. I couldn’t resist being swept up into the tidal wave of pain, drowning in it. Helpless against it, I lay down next to her body, pressing my Third Eye to hers. There were no colors, no memories to pass the frisson of warmth into me. It was just a gray, cool void.

“I love you,” I whispered. I hoped that somewhere, maybe on some different frequency, she’d heard me, and she knew that she meant the world to me.

Overcome, the tears turned into loud soul-shaking sobs.

Alys was the first one to come into the room, finding me weeping pitifully and holding Grandma. Without a word, she came and lay down behind me, wrapping her arms around us, joining me in my weeping.

Then, Lili slipped silently into the room, lying next to Grandma on the other side, tears sliding down her cheeks.

When we had cried ourselves dry, bright morning light was streaming into the room.

“We should call someone, the paramedics or something,” said Alys, her voice hushed and respectful.

“Yeah,” I replied, sounding as miserable as I felt.

“I’ll go make some coffee.” Lili sniffed.

Alys first called her mom, who in turn called the paramedics. Since there was no emergency, they quietly showed up with no flashing lights.

Brian was with them. While another two put Grandma’s body on the gurney, he pulled me into his arms, just tightly holding me to him, and I’d never felt so grateful for having him in my life as I did this minute.

They started to wheel her out, and I pulled out of his embrace. “Wait. Can I—”

“Yes,” replied Brian.

Pulling the sheet down, I took one last look at Grandma’s face before she was embalmed and morphed into a wax statue. She looked like she was asleep, like there was nothing but peace ahead of her. That made me feel like it was okay. I could let it go. I could let
her
go.

I stepped back, and they took her away. My chest ached fiercely but not with that anger, that burning, that awful sense of being wronged. I only felt the anguish of never being able to talk or see or be with her ever again.

Brian kissed my forehead, above my Third Eye. “I have to go with them, baby. But my shift ends soon. I’ll come straight over after, okay?”

“Okay.”

Mama Sally came in just as he headed out the door. Lovely woman, she did a double take as they passed each other.

“Oh, honey,” she crooned.

She wrapped me in her arms, holding me to her huge breasts as if they held the power to absorb the pain right out of me. After a few minutes of swaying back and forth against them, I did feel a bit better, and I wondered if those massive boobs did indeed hold such mystical properties.

It was Saturday. I didn’t have to worry about work or anything. I could just…let it all happen. I didn’t have to stress or worry. I could just let myself be heartbroken, and that was okay.

Brian came back less than two hours later.

We went up to my bedroom, and he pulled me into his arms, surrounding me with his love and warmth. I took it, and I let myself cry and cry and cry all over his chest. I took everything he offered me. I felt safe, and I fell into a dreamless deep sleep.

When I woke up, I was sad yet strangely at peace.

Brian awakened as I sat up.

“You doing okay?” he asked, rubbing his hand over my back.

“As okay as I can be.”

“Are you going to be all right when I go to work in a few hours? I can try to find someone to take my shift, if you want.”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Lili and Alys will be with me.”

“All right.”

Over the next couple of days, depression descended over the house once more, but this time, it wasn’t oppressive. It was just…depressing.

Mama Sally took care of all the funeral arrangements, which would take place on Wednesday. She also called Rita, who was kind and understanding, and Rita gave me two weeks’ leave of absence even though we were completely swamped at work. Alys got the week off, and so did Lili, who worked for the local phone company as a customer service representative.

My brother flew in from Miami for the funeral. He’d been taking summer courses, wanting to graduate earlier so that he could come back home to NOLA sooner than the four years.

Brian ended up spending every evening with me at my place until the funeral. It was a great comfort, having him with me.

The service was quite lovely, and this time around, I could truly appreciate what saying good-bye meant to people. Gracious, I was thankful for all the people who had turned up, having no clue as to who most of them were. I sat with Da and Connor and Gloria. Brian sat next to me and held my hand as I wept quietly for the woman I loved so much.

Afterward, we all planned to go out to a nice dinner. Brian declined the invite from Da to join us. Brian wasn’t really my boyfriend, and I didn’t think he felt comfortable acting like he was until we’d discussed it. And I knew that conversation was coming up really soon.

“Will I see you later?” he asked quietly as we all headed out of the funeral home.

Nodding my head, I replied, “I’ll come over after dinner. Can I stay the night?”

He smiled, and the sight of it stole a little piece of my heart. “Always.”