Forged by Greed (31 page)

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Authors: Angela Orlowski-Peart

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“It’s just all blah, blah, blah,” her mother said in a low, lifeless
voice.

Savannah shot her a sideways glance and asked, “Mom, are you okay?
You’re not acting like yourself. Maybe you should go to bed and rest?”

The woman didn’t respond. Her unblinking eyes stared straight ahead.
Savannah stood and put her arms around her mom, helping her up. They walked
through the kitchen to a small bedroom. Her mother didn’t protest or say
anything. She just shuffled her feet, as if in a dream. Savannah turned a small
lamp on, pulled a thin cover off the bed, and helped her mom climb onto the
mattress. The woman lay down on her side, her eyes wide open.

“Holler if you need anything, Mom.” Savannah kissed her on the
cheek. Even this didn’t cause any reaction.

She closed the bedroom door and went back to watch TV. Her cell phone
rang again. She grabbed it from the kitchen counter, and then flopped down on the
old tattered sofa.

“Logan?” she asked quietly. Her voice was filled with disbelief.
“We’re fine. Thanks for checking on us, that’s so nice of you.” She paused,
listening, and then said, “No, I didn’t get it. I was about to check my text
messages, but my mom seems strange, so I got sidetracked. I don’t know what’s
wrong with her. She’s… she’s just… like if someone hit her over the head. Like
a zombie or something.”

Savannah glanced at the TV screen, and said in a rush, “Wait a
minute. Are you watching the news? Oh my god!” A satellite image of the thick
white swirling clouds filled the screen. An almost perfectly round eye in the
middle hovered between the words HONDURAS and NICARAGUA. Several lines of text
and the NOAA logo in the corner of the picture almost escaped Savannah’s
attention, until she noticed, and said, “There is a hurricane over Central
America.” She turned the volume up. “This is a brand new hurricane. They don’t
even have a name for it yet. How is this possible, Logan? How come
meteorologists don’t know what’s coming at us? Don’t they normally see a
hurricane slowly building up somewhere over one of the oceans before it even hits
the land? This one happened so quickly. They didn’t even have a chance to name
it.”

The voice on the other side of the phone was composed. Logan was
trying to calm her down, but she was hardly listening, all her attention on the
news.

“I know. You’re right. There are always earthquakes and hurricanes
and such somewhere. But not all at once, right? Anyway, I’ll call you later. I
have to check on my mom,” she said and scrambled from the sofa. She stopped in
the middle of the kitchen and narrowed her eyes.
No, Mom had better sleep. She’s been so strange today. Good thing she’s
off work for the next two days.

The same young male anchor read aloud a report from the National
Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

“They don’t know where it came from,” Savannah whispered to herself.
“Why don’t they know? It just appeared out of nowhere without any warning? I
can understand the earthquakes but
this
?
And all those weird volcanic eruptions? What’s happening with the world?”

She sat on the sofa and put her face in her hands. She leaned
forward until her elbows rested on her thighs. A sound of a breaking window hit
her ears, followed by a man’s low bellow and a woman’s hysterical shriek. Savannah
jumped to her feet and peered between the thin plastic blinds, pulling them
apart with her fingers. She saw a chair with a broken leg lying on her
neighbors’ lawn. Jagged pieces of glass and splintered wood covered the chair and
the grass around it. She gasped. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw how
badly the neighbors’ window was shattered. Two figures, a tall man and a short
stocky woman, were pushing each other inside the house, shouting. It was dark
outside, but their house was well lit, and Savannah saw several pieces of
furniture inside fallen or broken.

“Geez, what the hell got into those two?” She whispered in
disbelief. She thought about calling the police, but then she heard a short
pulsing sound that could only come from an emergency vehicle. She raced to the
front door, opened it, and ran outside to get a better look. A few other
neighbors already gathered in the middle of the street, talking and pointing.
Savannah hesitated for a moment. She walked toward the group to hear what they
knew about the incident.

“Such a nice couple. I would
never
,
in a thousand years, suspect them of such violence.” An old white-haired woman
shook her head, her voice wobbly with age. “I’ve been living here for the last
fifty years and have never seen anything like that.”

“What happened? Is anybody hurt?” someone else asked.

“Something weird is going on,” said a middle-aged Asian man in a
thick sweater. “This morning I went to Chinatown. There were
three
nasty fights at the market. Then
later, when I took my dog for a walk, I saw some little kids swinging their
fists at each other. One even got a bloody nose. Two mothers sat on a bench in
a complete stupor, like they were frozen. I had to separate the kids, and told
the mothers to take them home. They just got up and walked away with the
squirming children. They didn’t even say a word to me. Unbelievable.”

“I saw a group of guys fighting on the street a couple hours ago.
Someone called the police, and two officers arrived really fast,” added a
college-aged girl. There was a small diamond stud in her nose. “This is crazy.
What’s going on with all those people?”

“Hello, Mrs. Stephanopoulos,” Savannah said quietly, looking at
Penelope’s mother.

“Oh, Savannah.” A redhead petite woman, dressed in a pink tracksuit,
smiled broadly. “Is your mom around?”

“Yeah, sleeping. She didn’t feel well and left work early. Good
thing she came home before the earthquake.”

“She’s not feeling well? Is she sick?” Kaliope Stephanopoulos asked,
her voice heavy with a Greek accent.

“I don’t know what to think. I’ve never seen her like this.”
Savannah’s eyes filled with tears.

Kaliope moved closer Savannah and put her arm around her. “Is there
anything I can do?” she asked, looking at her husband and another neighbor—a
Native American female Summer Shifter.
 
The three double-natured exchanged knowing glances. “I would send
Penelope to come and keep you company. But she just went to her friend’s house.
She’s never around when needed. Do you know Jasmira? That’s where she went.”

Savannah grimaced at the idea of spending any time with Penelope,
and then said, “No, I don’t think I know anyone named Jasmira.”

“Is your mom drunk again? Do you need help with anything?”

“No, Mrs. Stephanopoulos. I’m fine.” Savannah blinked her tears
away. She knew Kaliope was often blunt, but this question took her by surprise.

“Don’t hesitate to call me. I mean it.” Kaliope squeezed Savannah’s
arm. “You guys have our phone numbers, right?”

“I think so. I think Mom has it in her address book in the kitchen.”

A police officer escorted the tall man from the house with a broken
window to the vehicle parked right by the front door. The man was hand-cuffed,
his head hung low. The second officer was still inside the house, talking with
the woman. She had her fists firmly planted on her wide hips. Her face was twisted
in anger.

“Good thing they don’t have any kids,” the Native American Shifter
commented, and then added in her mind for the Stephanopoulos couple to hear, “You
know about the ten-thousand-year mark, right? It’s happening already. Even if
the winter solstice is a month away. All these disasters are hitting at once. And
the humans are getting either aggressive, like these two here, or passive, like
Savannah’s mother. Come over to my house, we’ll talk.”

Kaliope Stephanopoulos looked grim when she answered with her mind,
“Okay, Estelle.” She looked at her husband, who nodded, and then at Savannah. “Go
check on your mother and you’d better stay inside. Don’t let her near any booze,
and if she tries, call my cell phone.”

Savannah made a noncommittal noise and walked toward her house. Her
eyes were full of hostility and her shoulders sagged.
I can’t believe she said that in front of everyone.

Two other Shifters heard Kaliope’s voice in their heads. “Her mother
better shape up. The kid needs someone to watch over her, not the other way
around. Dumb humans.”

 

CHAPTER 35
   

Human World, November 18,
past midnight.

 

Jasmira hopped out of the taxi and slammed the
door.

“Hey, easy does it!” the driver yelled after
her, but she had already taken off toward the tall wrought-iron gate. She
reached a small keypad between the gate and the stone post, and quickly punched
a number combination. Jasmira squeezed between the opening wings of the gate and
pushed the buttons on the keypad one more time. The gate stopped, shuddered,
and started to close. Jasmira hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and ran in the
direction of the large house sprawled at the end of the path.
 
The lanterns along the path provided soft
light, casting milky circles on the ground. It was after midnight. The wind
subsided and only gently ruffled a colorful carpet of leaves that covered the
path under her feet.

She stopped in front of the vast double doors, lifted her head, and
gazed at the carvings in the wood. Engraved into both of the doors stood serious-looking
warriors. They bore the signs of the sun on their crests, foreheads, and chest
plates. Without taking her eyes off them, Jasmira slipped her hand into her bag,
and felt inside for a key. She was about to insert the key into the key-hole,
when the lock made a metallic clicking noise, and Penelope opened the door,
peering outside.

“Oh, here you are. Finally,” Penelope huffed. Her thick red hair was
a mess. She wore an oversized t-shirt with a picture of Hello Kitty printed on
the front and a pair of fuzzy pink slippers. “Why did you fly to Santa Barbara
like that?”

Jasmira gave Penelope a tight hug. “Sorry, Pen. I will tell you all
in a moment. But I’m exhausted.” She drew back and looked into her friend’s
eyes. “So Jatred’s fine? Except he doesn’t remember me. Anything new since I
called you last time?”

“No. I told you all I know.”

Jasmira walked inside, past Penelope. “I can’t stand airplanes and
airports.”

“I don’t blame you. After all, your own parents…” Penelope stopped
abruptly, her eyes opened wide. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

 
“It’s okay. I mean, it still
hurts. There’s not a day in my life that I don’t think about them. But I hardly
even remember them. And it’s been years since that plane crash. Exactly
ten
years.”

Penelope followed Jasmira.

“I just can’t bring myself to visit the cemetery. Grandma goes every
week and always asks if I want to go, but I just…” Jasmira shook her head, her
eyes cast down to the floor. “Grandma called on Friday to remind me. But I
didn’t forget. I just couldn’t face the graves.”

“I can’t even imagine how hard it is,” mumbled Penelope, still
looking uncertain.

“Did you know that Jatred’s parents were on that plane too?” Jasmira
asked quietly.

“No, I didn’t. That’s odd.” Penelope frowned. “Do you wanna talk
about this?”

Jasmira shook her head. She stood over the masculine sun face marble
inlay that decorated the foyer floor. Twenty four rays burst out, creating a
perfect disk around it.
 
Twelve rays,
shaped as elongated triangles, alternated with twelve wavy rays. The image
closely resembled the single-color one on the tympanum outside. The rays
stretched away toward the outer thin circle constructed of a shiny black
marble. A thicker, yellow and blue circle completed the icon.

“Pen, do you believe in that legend?” Jasmira pointed to the sun
face.

“And what legend would
that
be?” Penelope regained her snappy attitude, her hands on her hips.

“You know, about
the sun face. I used to bring my toys here when
I was little and pretend-play by this image.” A faint smile crossed Jasmira’s
face.

“Nope, nobody bothers to tell me about any legends.” Penelope rolled
her eyes. She crossed her arms against her chest and let out an exaggerated
sigh, looking expectantly at Jasmira, “Well? What
is
that legend?”

It was Jasmira’s turn to roll her eyes. She smiled. “There are
twenty four rays around it. Twelve are wavy and represent the gainful and happy
years. And the other twelve are shaped as those long triangles—these are
supposed to symbolize the years of sorrow and loss
.”

Penelope sighed again and walked closer to look at the sun face image.
She scratched her stomach, took a deep breath, and said, “Yes, I sort of
believe that might carry some truth. But I also think we alter the meanings of
legends to fit our own lives. Besides, it’s hard to accept as true that these
years would alternate exactly one for one. There might be a few good years and
a really bad one or something. But we don’t need legends to know that, right?”
She smiled. “Hey, I even managed to sound like our history professor.” She
chuckled.

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