Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles) (9 page)

“That little nub left us without a clue as to where to go or what to do,” grumped Fanny.

“Actually, he gave us quite a few clues,” said Jake.

Fanny and I both glared hard at him. Fanny looked like she was going to throttle him.

“Okay then, tell us where we’re going,” said Fanny.

“Well, obviously we have to go to Ireland. ‘Fair Tara’,” retorted Jake.

“Yeah, okay, we’ll go to Ireland. But Jake, Ireland isn’t exactly a tiny country. Where in Ireland are we going?” I asked.

“I don’t know exactly, but we have clues so we can figure this out. He told us, it was past the Slieve na. . . something or other hills. And he said a Christian church. It has to be one that was there during Saorla’s time, so one that goes back at least a thousand years. There can only be so many of those, right?” Jake asked.

I started to perk up a little bit. Thank god for Jake. He’s always so clear headed like that.

“So we could come up with a list anyway, huh, to get started,” Fanny said.

“Yeah, and it may take a few days. . . ,” said Jake.

“Or a few months!” I groaned.

“But traveling by bus or train, it won’t be too bad. And we’re sure to find other clues if we keep our eyes open,” said Jake.

“Okay, but first things first. I’ve got to get past Muriel, and we have to find a way out of here without money, or plane tickets! And the passport situation,” I said.

“Well we’ve got money covered,” offered Fanny.

“How’s that?” asked Jake. “You know I’m broke.”

Jake was right. His dad had cut out on his mom, Jake and his three younger brothers and sisters. His mom worked extra shifts at her nursing job to make ends meet while Jake helped take care of his sibs, but it was really tight for his family.

“Two words – Bat Mitzvah,” said Fanny.

“Oh my god, you still have all your Bat Mit cash?” I asked.

“Yep, about eight large, rolled up and hidden in my secret money place,” said Fanny.

“You have eight thousand dollars just hanging around your house?” asked Jake.

“Yeah, well I don’t trust my money in banks.”

“I can’t believe your mom and dad let you keep your money at your house,” I said.

“They don’t know.”

“Okay, well eight grand should be enough to at least get us to Ireland. What about passports?” I asked.

“Fanny, you’ve been to Europe before. You still have your passport?” asked Jake.

“Yeah, my picture was from when I was like ten, but it’s still good,” she answered.

“And Emily, your dad got you a passport to go to Canada last year, didn’t he?” asked Jake.

“Yeah – that’s right. I almost forgot because we ended up not going,” I said. Zombie Man couldn’t tear himself away from work long enough to go on a vacation with his daughter.

“But Jake, what about you? You’ve never been. . . well, never been out of the country,” said Fan.

“Yeah, that’s true. But Fanny, your whole family went on that trip, right?” asked Jake.

“Yeah, we all went.”

“Well, with hair dye and some luck, I should be able to use your brother Rob’s passport see, and then we got no problem,” Jake answered. He was practically beaming.

“Holy crap Jake,” said Fanny. “Squeaky clean little Jake. I can’t believe you’re going to do that! Faking a passport. That’s like a federal crime you know.”

“Yeah, I know. But desperate times call for desperate measure. Besides, Emily needs us,” he said.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll go in, grab my passport and some clothes and junk and my small stash of cash and then get past Muriel.”

We all crawled back across that tree branch and shimmied into my room through the window. It was getting dark, and we still had to get past Muriel. I rummaged through my junk in a small box under my bed for my passport.

“Man, I look like such a goob!” I said as I looked at the picture.

“Nah, you don’t,” said Jake as he looked over my shoulder at the picture.

“Who cares now anyway,” said Fan. “Just grab some junk and let’s get going.”

I stuffed the passport into my back pocket, grabbed my backpack and jammed it full of clothes. I was just about to turn out of there and face Muriel when Jake said, “Hey, you should write a note to your dad.”

“Are you crazy? I can’t let him know what we’re doing,” I said.

“Em, he’ll be worried about you. You don’t have to tell him where we’re going or what we’re doing, but just let him know you’re not running away,” Jake replied.

Thing is, I couldn’t say I wasn’t running away because I was. Truth is, that’s exactly what I thought I was doing. Finally, a chance to escape. I may be a nerd, a loser, a smart-mouth, and failing math. But I couldn’t lie to my dad.

Jake was right though, I did need to tell him something. I sat down and wrote a quick note. Even though he’s a zombie now, I still love my dad so I couldn’t help it when a tear came out.

As I finished the letter, I looked up and saw the picture of my dad, my mom and me together - laughing and having a good time at the lake. Probably taken a few months before she died. I grabbed it quick and threw it into my bag, then turned the note over and finished it on the backside.

“Let’s go,” I said as I turned and left my room, maybe forever.

16. Escape From Muriel The Mean

We tiptoed into the hall and down the stairs. Maybe Muriel was asleep in her room watching stupid history channel shows? We might get out of here without a fight.

Yeah right! It’s never that easy, is it?

Just as I made it to the door, Muriel’s high-pitched screech bellowed out, “Where do you think you’re going? And how did these fools get in?”

I didn’t want my voice to tremble or squeak, but it did both as I said, “I’m leaving.”

Muriel laughed as she said, “I don’t think so. You idiots get home before I call your parents and tell them that you’re stealing from me. And you,” she said pointing her bony finger at me. “You get back to your room now.”

Fanny and Jake just stood there, frozen. They looked back and forth between Muriel and me. Her eyes were wild with anger, and she looked determined.

But I could feel something welling up inside me. It was like all the times she hit me or deprived me of food or put me down – it was like it was all flashing before my eyes or something – like every cell in me hated her so much right then. I turned and faced her full on.

“I’m leaving,” I said. “Don’t try to stop me or you’ll be sorry.”

“You little brat,” she said as she came lunging toward me.

I’m not sure exactly what happened next. All I know is that I was thinking about getting Muriel away from me, and the next thing I knew, she was flying backward through the air like some giant had picked her up and thrown her. She landed with a thud on the wood floor in the hallway looking stunned and confused.

In a flash, the stunned look became anger like I’d never seen before. I think she was determined to strangle me. Like a half-crazed little bull, she charged at me again.

Somehow in that moment Muriel looked small – almost comical. I never realized before that I’m actually taller than she is. I felt some calm come over me then. This time I focused my thought on throwing Muriel far and hard. Again, without anyone touching her, it was like an invisible force picked her up and this time threw her against the wall. She hit hard, and as she did, a large picture framed in glass fell down on top of her head. She was knocked out.

Jake and Fanny just stood there with their mouths hanging open. None of us moved.

“How. . . how did you do that?” Fanny asked.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “But it felt really good.”

“You’re smiling,” said Jake as he peered at me through his thick glasses.

I was smiling. I felt. . . happy. It had been a long time since I had felt happy. Maybe I did have Saorla’s blood coursing through my veins.

“Let’s go before that wretched beast wakes up,” I said.

We got out of there and ran as fast as we could to Fanny’s house. We knew we didn’t have much time. Muriel would be unconscious only so long, and then she’d begin looking for me. We knew she’d start with Jake and Fanny’s houses.

We snuck into Fan’s house and got her things. Her parents were out to dinner and her brothers at the football game so it was easy. Money, passport, clothes, cell phone and MP3 player (‘I don’t travel anywhere without my tunes’ Fan had said). We used her mom’s hair dye (Nice-n-Easy #2) to dye Jake’s hair black. He looked freaky as hell but without his glasses on he almost looked a little bit like Fanny’s brother Rob.

Jake took one look in the mirror after Fanny finished his hair and said, “We’re doomed!”

“Chillax nub, it'll be fine. Just let me do the talking,” Fanny said.

She snuck into her oldest brother’s room and grabbed his passport then wrote a quick note to her parents then out again.

Then it was off to Jake’s house to do the same. At Jake’s we didn’t need to worry much about sneaking in and out. His mom was working, and his brothers and sisters didn’t pay him much attention.

He left a note for his mom in his room though just like we had done. Only we all knew that his mom would be the last to find the note.

We were on our way to the train station then the airport. I had other opportunities to work on my skills. I tried some sort of ‘Jedi mind tricks’ (didn’t work) but mainly it was Jake’s fast thinking and Fanny’s fast talking that got us on that plane. Somehow Fanny was able to convince the folks at British Airways that Jake was her 18-year-old brother Rob. How she got them to believe that a boy who stood only five feet tall with a terrible hair-dye job was her adult brother I’ll never know.

Finally on our way, sinking down into the seat on the plane. O’Hare to Dublin, I knew it would be a long night. Jake and Fanny fell asleep fast. They were sort of cute all curled up in their seats, leaning on each other. Suddenly they looked small to me - still kids.

What were we doing? We were just three fourteen-year-old kids. I felt guilty that I had pulled Jake and Fanny into this wild goose chase. We were sure to get into ginormous trouble. They’d probably have the cops out looking for us - three runaways. Who knows, if they did respectable detective work they’d probably figure out that those three fast-talking kids that got on the plane at O’Hare were us then they’d know where we were going. We might have the whole of Ireland looking for us before we even got there.

I had serious doubts. Maybe we should just call our parents when we got there, apologize. Jake and Fanny could blame me. That’d be okay. I’d take the heat. I owed them.

I was tired, more tired than I’d been my whole life, but I couldn’t sleep. In a way, it was like the best thing that could happen is they’d round us up in Dublin and haul our butts home. The end of running. No responsibility for saving anything. I’d have to face Muriel the Mean but hey, I just whipped her butt without touching her. I thought she’d probably steer clear of me now. Maybe even pack up her stuff and hit the road.

Then it occurred to me, maybe they wouldn’t even look for me. Muriel might just decide to let me go. Why would she care? If she couldn’t torture me at will anymore what would be the point? And Zombie Man? I wasn’t sure he’d notice I was gone. It might take weeks for him to find my note. And when he did, would he care? Really, would he even care?

That thought made me cry. It sucks to have no parents.

But after I cried a while I started to feel relieved. If they didn’t come after us, it would make our job a lot easier.
I’m on my own now
. I’m free.

I leaned back, closed my eyes and finally slept. I saw beautiful hills of green. An old cemetery with large stone crosses. This is a weird dream, I thought. Then I saw the torc – beautiful and golden. In my dream, I stood in a landscape with rolling green hills and there it was – the torc – hovering in front of me and glowing. That was my dream as I flew to an unknown future.

PART TWO

Training the Modern-Day Priestess

You never can tell what a thought will do

    In bringing you hate or love –

For thoughts are things, and their airy wings

    Are swifter than carrier doves.

They follow the law of the universe –

    Each thing creates its kind,

And they speed o’er the track to bring you back

    Whatever went out from your mind.

From “You Never Can Tell,” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, 1850-1919

17. To Fair Tara

Amazingly we all slept well that night. Maybe we were just exhausted and didn’t have a choice. Before we knew it, we touched down in Dublin.

Weary from the seven-hour plane ride, we practically stumbled down the steps and walkway to the custom’s agents. I sailed through without a problem, lying and telling the Irish customs guy that I was there on vacation.

“For how long then love?” he asked.

I hesitated because the truth was I didn’t know how long I’d be there. For all I knew, the Irish Garda would be waiting and put us right back on a plane to the States. Or if we were successful we could be here indefinitely. Suddenly the words ‘two weeks’ popped into my head, and I knew that I was reading Jake’s mind.

“Two weeks,” I finally stammered out.

“Good holiday then,” the agent said as he stamped a 30-day visa into my passport and handed it back.

I met Jake and Fanny on the other side of the wooden customs booths, and we went to the baggage claim area and regrouped.

“What now?” Fanny asked.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m tired. We need to find a place to stay,” I said.

“Let’s go sit over there and have some jo and a bite while I crank the Wi-Fi on my laptop,” said Jake.

With the help of the Internet and some questions to a bored-looking but friendly currency exchange agent, we came up with a plan. We found an inexpensive youth hostel in Dublin, a short trip by Airbus from the airport. In the heart of the city, we’d be able to find some maps, rest a bit and come up with a plan.