OUR AMAZING TEAM MEMBER AND AUTHOR, LORRAINE CAREY, SHARES CHAPTER 13 FROM 'LAST RITES' - THE FINAL PART OF THE 'WOMEN OF WILLOW WOOD' TRILOGY #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat
- Eva Bielby
- Aug 1
- 10 min read
Updated: 7 days ago
Chapter 13
Dani returns to the mystical shop in Volante, PA, and questions Enya
Dani
I’d no sooner called to place a takeout order at Homegrown when a call was coming in from Brandt. “You okay, babe?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Won’t be the first or the last time I’ve been followed. You know that.”
“Yes, I remember. Just making sure you’re safe. I’ve put a call in to Drake to check things out. No response as of yet. I’ll let you know when I hear something. For now, I want you to be on your guard.”
“Oh, for sure.” I paused for a moment. “You’re talking to an ex-Guardian here—remember? I’m keeping myself busy. Just ordered takeout from Homegrown, then I plan to go over my lesson plans for tomorrow.”
“Maybe you should have that delivered,” Brandt suggested.
“They don’t deliver, remember? Besides, it’s just down the road.”
“By the way, how’d your day go?”
“The usual. Had a short meeting, then lunch. I’m in the hotel reading over the stats for my next assignment.”
“I take it you’ll be home this Friday night?” Anticipation rang through me.
“Yes. I miss you, Dani. I’ll call you tomorrow to check in. Please call me if you see the truck
again.”
“What about your meetings?”
“You’re more important. Sleep well. Can’t wait to come home and snuggle up to that sexy body of yours.”
He had me again—yep, right there. What was it with this man? I had asked myself that question over and over.
I looked at the hall clock. It was 5:00. I looked at my watch. It was 5:30. Okay, what the hell? I remembered what Enya said. I decided to deal with this later. I was famished.
I threw on my sweater, walked out to the car, scanning the area. No signs of the black pickup. I ran to the car, locked the doors, and raced up to the restaurant. Guess if the cops stopped me, I had a good excuse. But could I even trust the cops here? I was attacked by the last one in New Mexico and almost raped!
It was good to relax while enjoying my Cesar Salad as I sat at the dining room table, closely examining the triple goddess symbol on Enya’s card from the Illumination shop. My thoughts also turned to the appearances and messages from the fox. I needed to talk to Aunt Miranda about both of these issues. If anyone would know, it would be her. I headed down the hallway, noticing the clock was still reading 5 o’clock. I wound it up once again and reset the hands. I waited. It seemed to be moving normally.
It was good to hear Mother and Auntie’s voices. Seemed Aunt Miranda had never heard of the Illumination shop. I told her about the clock, and she reminded me how a spirit can possess an object. Besides all that, I was relieved to hear Mother’s health was good. She had reinforced what I already knew about the appearance of the fox, along with adding her own take on the Celtic meaning of this animal. She went on to tell me how it symbolized intelligence and is a guide that is honored for its wisdom. His message is to seek quick action while moving through obstacles and resistance.
I thanked her and knew I was about to head down a familiar road once again. She never failed to amaze me with her uncanny knowledge on these subjects.
A hot shower was just the ticket to calm my nerves. I slipped into my warm blue robe and then headed off to the couch to look over tomorrow’s lesson plans for Karyn. Once again, I noticed the hands of the clock were back to 5:00. “Okay—whoever you are—I need you to listen! I get it! Now, please show me the correct time!” I was beyond irritated at this point. If there was a spirit attached to the clock, I was not amused. Nothing—nada. I decided to return it to Volant Mills tomorrow after tutoring. It was also a good excuse to visit with Enya Duvall.
Karyn had a few papers she had to write, and I had to read her story in her literature book to make sure her answers were correct. I read a few chapters, then found my eyes getting heavy. The book dropped onto the floor. I was falling asleep, so I headed to bed. I was headed for dreamland.
My body was as light as a feather as I floated over the sea. I could see whitecaps down below. The water glistened like turquoise gems as I glided toward the rocky shore. This island looked familiar. I landed on the beach feet first. I welcomed the cool breeze. It felt good on my skin. I gazed at the huge limestone bluff that rose behind me. There was a bright glow coming from an opening in the bluff. I walked toward it as if it were pulling me in. I stopped as I came to a small entrance. I felt a jolt that pushed me back a few feet. My body was electrified. I found myself lying in the sand, looking up at a blue sky.
The loud chiming of the hall clock woke me from my dream. It didn’t stop. “Damn that clock!” I walked into the hallway to see it had stuck once again. I removed it from its mounting, and the chiming stopped. “I think this may be the wrong house for you as well.” I set it in the same box it came in. I’d return it today. I walked into the kitchen, glancing over at the clock on the coffee pot. It was 6:00 am.
I needed coffee and had a few hours before I had to be at Karyn’s house. As the coffee was brewing, I thought about my dream last night and how similar it was to the last one. I dressed while the coffee brewed. I packed my things, ready for a long day. I had the entire day to myself. Spending some time in Volant would help to fill that void.
There were no signs of the black truck as I headed out on Route 11 to Karyn’s house. I still couldn’t shake the habit of looking in my rearview mirror ever since the incident with bad cop, Mason Greene.
Karyn seemed overly excited to see me, as did Cookie. She led me to the dining room table, where she scooted her chair very close to me, whispering in my ear. “I heard the fox last night.”
I turned to her. “You saw or heard the fox?” I had to make some sense out of this.
“No—both!” She answered in a louder whisper. Her green eyes sparkled. She glanced around to make sure her mother was not within earshot.
“Just what exactly did he say?”
“It was all too odd. I heard a voice that sounded like it was saying, ‘Tell her . . . tell her.’ Then Cookie started barking, and he ran off. He was scared. It was very early this morning. I didn’t even tell Mom.”
“That’s interesting for sure.” I was trying to process this, but didn’t want to alarm Karyn, nor did I want to tell her about my previous encounters with the same fox. One thing did have my interest; it was the fact that she was communicating. Was it possible she was another “Minnie me?”
“You know, Karyn, sometimes we do get messages from animals, or we think we do. It stems from a pure love for them. They seem to sense it. Sometimes they can speak to us.” I wanted to reassure her this was all very normal —or was it? I knew all that she had been through already and didn’t want her to think anything about this was off.
Darla Daniels made an appearance to remind us that treats were available in the fridge. She always kept herself away from our studies so that Karyn had no distractions.
We spent the first hour going over her writing assignments. We started on math, but it was apparent Karyn was preoccupied with the appearance of the fox. It was a struggle to keep her focused until noon.
Karyn and her mom walked me to the door. I hugged Karyn. “Don’t forget your homework. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
My plans included a quick lunch, then hitting the road to Volant. I wanted to have a stress-free afternoon, minus black pickup trucks, haunted clocks, and mysterious messages from a fox.
*****
It was sheer bliss to head down Main Street as the quaint shops came into view again. I decided to park in the back lot of the Old Mill store and head over to Illumination with my return. The door jingled as I entered. A young blonde girl was behind the counter. She appeared to be no older than twenty years old. No makeup—only a smooth, pale complexion and hair pulled into a ponytail. She locked eyes with me. “Welcome. Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’m looking for Enya,” I replied, as I set my box down on the front counter.
“Ah, let me guess. You are returning the clock.”
“Yes, I am. But how—”
“Enya told me it was sold again. I know its history. I’m Natalya Hendricks, by the way. Nice to meet you.” She offered her hand.
“Nice to meet you, too. I’m Dani Reyes.”
“Enya’s in the back room. I was just manning the front desk. She’s looking over the samples of teas I brought in this morning.”
I followed her to the backroom. Enya was examining each bottle of the dried tea leaves. She beamed when she saw me.
“What brings you back to Illumination, my dear?”
“Well . . . it’s that clock. It’s—”
“Not working, right?” Enya dried her hands on her flowered apron. “No worries. I thought it would be fine after having it fixed. I’ll tell you what—I can give you your money back, or I can give you store credit. Better yet, let me get it fixed for you. There’s another man who repairs clocks, and we may have better luck this time. I want you to have it—no charge. You can still pick something out in the shop for the inconvenience.”
“I guess I’ll look around. I mean . . . I don’t really need anything, but you do have many unique things. Thank you for the clock—it’s the oddest thing.”
“Yes, it is, but somehow I believe it’s meant for you. I see you’ve met Natalya. She makes my teas for me. She’s the best in the area. Really knows her stuff.”
“Yes, we’ve met. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“She has whatever ails you. Let me tell you,” Enya boasted.
Natalya blushed hearing that remark. “Thank you, Miss Enya. I think I’ll leave you two and go back to the house to get the other half of the delivery.”
She turned by the doorway. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Dani. Hope to see you
again.”
It was hard to tell if she was pitching to sell her teas or genuinely wanted to see me. As for Enya, she was once again overly excited to see me. She carried the box with the clock into the backroom as I set about perusing the shop for something that would catch my eye. There was a small table with antique teacups. I loved the delicate flower pattern and the gold rimming on one of the cups I spotted. I checked the price tags to see that one cup and saucer were priced at $55.00. Just a bit over my budget. Once again, Enya was behind me.
“I see you may have found something?”
“Yes! I do love these old cups. My mother has a few of these.”
“Well, you are in luck today. I feel really bad for trying to persuade you into buying that clock, so I can give you a discount on the cup and saucer. I’ll reduce it down to $15.00.”
“Really? I’ll take it!”
“You still have some money left to spend, or I can issue you credit. May I suggest a packet of tea? That would hopefully make amends for your inconvenience.” Enya’s voice was subtle yet persuasive.
I really wasn’t into tea as Mother and Aunt Miranda were, but I thought I’d at least give it a look. Enya led me back to the tearoom where Natalya had delivered a new batch of teas.
“Now, if you let me know just what it is that you need, I can suggest one for you. I have the feeling you are a bit anxious, my dear.”
How would she know? “Well, I do suffer from anxiety at times. Lately I’ve been having odd dreams, now that you mention it.”
“Okay, let me suggest this one here. It’s a mix of chamomile, lemon balm, and passionflower. It’s one of our most popular teas.”
I examined the clear pouch with the colorful leaves, as I wondered about Natalya’s experience here. “So, tell me, Enya, is Natalya into herbs?” I pressed for more information.
“Yes, she is. I will tell you that she comes from an Amish family here. She’s still single and lives with a friend nearby. She was banished a few years ago when they accused her of practicing magic. I’ve been buying tea from her ever since. Guess I felt sorry for her in the beginning, but I’ve found she has a real gift for this.”
My heart leapt for this girl. I had known all too well about banishing. Seems troubled souls have a way of finding each other.
“I guess the Amish don’t take kindly to any forms of magic?” I proposed as I continued to examine the teas.
“Not at all, my dear. Are you familiar with the Chesterville Witch story?”
“No. Tell me, please,” I coaxed.
“Let’s take your treasures to the front. I can fill you in as we ring you up,” Enya suggested. My interest was piqued. I picked up the tea pouch along with my cup and saucer.
“During the mid-1800s the Amish had banished this young woman who was rumored to be a witch and a healer. They buried her by a huge oak tree in Illinois. She had challenged the Amish, and rumor has it they killed her. Legend says that if the tree is cut down, she will seek revenge on those who caused her death. Please don’t go and piss off any Amish, Dani—be careful.”
“That is valuable information. I really appreciate that, Enya. I’ll make sure not to.” Was she insinuating I used magic or was a witch myself? This was getting a bit weird. I handed Enya the money for my purchases, but she refused, offering them as gifts. She stuffed my items into an attractive purple gift bag with silver tissue paper. She slipped in another one of her business cards.
“I already have one of those,” I replied. “Oh, and by the way, I meant to ask you about the triple goddess symbol on the back of the card.”
Enya stood silent for a moment. “Yes, Dani? I’m sure you couldn’t help but notice. I’m sure you have questions. Where should I start?”
“I do. Maybe the truth for starters.”
**********
COMING SOON: On Sunday, 3rd August, it is our pleasure to introduce guest author, Angela Wren, who is sharing her short story 'Alice' from the 'Summer Paths' anthology.
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