Tell Me I'm Dreamin' (3 page)

Chapter
2

The house was so much a part of the forest it would have been invisible if it were not for a light billowing out of a tunnel-shaped entranceway. Nadine entered it with caution. She stopped near the wavering flame of a wall-mounted candle beside the door. For a moment she allowed herself the luxury of marveling at the flat shell shape of the base filled to the brim with wax. Reality would not allow her to dally for long, and Nadine was forced to confront the full impact of her predicament. She was deep within the island facing the unknown. “This is ridiculous,” she said, staring at the large wooden door. “He tells me I can follow him, then he leaves me, and now I'm forced to figure out how to get into the place.” Frustrated, Nadine looked down at the limestone floor. “I bet he doesn't even live here.” She could feel beads of perspiration forming above her lip as she contemplated what to do. Alright, just be calm, she told herself. Whoever comes to the door, you'll just have to tell the truth about how you got here. What can they do to you, anyway? She raised her hand and knocked before her mind conjured up answers she was afraid to acknowledge.

It took several efforts, each one more nerve-racking than the last before a strained female voice called, “Who's there?”

“Uh, excuse me,” Nadine stammered, not knowing where to begin, “I know this is going to sound a little strange, but I was invited—”

“I cannot understand you,” the woman replied, cracking open the thick oak door just enough to create an opening that resembled a straw filled with light.

“I'm sorry.” Nadine spoke inside the cranny. ‘This is rather difficult to explain. My name is Nadine Clayton. I'm an American. I am here with the World Treasures Institute to do some preliminary work.”

“Yes?” The crack widened until Nadine could see a middle-aged woman in a colorful dress wearing a wrap on her head. The woman looked at her with a skeptical curiosity, then with an increasing look of astonishment.

“A man led me here after the earthquake, but he was going so fast I couldn't keep up. I'm embarrassed to say I don't know his name,” Nadine continued, feeling a need to get it all in. “I hope you can understand how frightened I was under the circumstances, and how following him here seemed to be the wisest thing to do at the time.” She trailed off under the woman's steady stare, before starting up again. “If you'll just allow me to use your telephone so I can call my boss, Dr. Steward, I promise I won't inconvenience you any further.”

“Please, forgive my rudeness,” the woman seemed to acquire a sudden burst of energy, “and by all means, come in,” she offered, opening the door for Nadine to step inside. “Madame Deane will never forgive me if I turn you away.”

Nadine didn't know why, but she felt the woman's words held an underlying meaning. But she had enough on her mind, and she gratefully obeyed the woman's request, brushing her feelings aside, attributing them to a bad case of nerves and stress.

No sooner had she stepped into the foyer than she was overtaken by the sensation of being surrounded by hundreds of white doves in flight. Seconds passed, and soon she realized the key to the illusion was a simple candelabra. It offered up countless reflections of a statue of doves flying in V formation in tiled mirrors that decorated the foyer from ceiling to floor.

“This is amazing,” Nadine exclaimed, unable to resist taking a closer look at the marble statue. “For a moment I thought I was surrounded by flying birds.”

“It is wonderful, isn't it?” the woman replied as she watched her. “I have worked here for many years, and I still find myself giving in to the beauty of the place. Master and Madame Deane would have had it no other way.”

“They must be very special people to have such an artistic eye.”

“Yes, the entire family has been that way for as long as I can remember. Amongst the islanders they are known as ‘the Protectors of Eros' Treasures.' Each generation has done its share of contributing to their large collection. I guess that's why Madame Deane is taking it so hard now,” the woman added almost to herself.

Nadine felt uncomfortable with the woman's frankness, but she was grateful that she had let her in. “I really do appreciate your allowing me to use your telephone. I was beginning to feel a little nervous, everything was happening so fast,” Nadine said gratefully.

“Telephone, miss? But no one has a telephone here on Eros. Messages are either hand-delivered or mailed. The nearest phone is on Barbados.”

“But I asked you if I could use your telephone when I was standing outside,” Nadine replied, confused.

“Once again I'm sorry, miss. Seeing you surprised me. I guess I wasn't really listening to what you were saying.”

“Well, I don't know what to do at this point, if there's no phone. I guess I'll just have to—”

“You'll just have to come with me,” the anxious housekeeper cut her off. “Like I said, Madame Deane will never forgive me if I don't tell her you are here.”

“That is very kind of you. I suppose you don't get very many . . . stray visitors here.”

“That's true, and surely not one like you,” the woman added with a hint of excitement in her voice. “By the way, my name is Catherine. And your name once again?”

“Nadine. Nadine Clayton.”

“So Miss Clayton, if you'll just follow me, I'll let Madame Deane know you are here.” Acting as if the matter were settled, Catherine proceeded out into a courtyard.

Nadine followed her into the enclosed area with bronze lamps lining the walls. Only a few of them were lit, but they provided a soft light throughout. Her shoes clicked as she crossed the well-polished terra-cotta floor, and Nadine found herself almost walking on her toes in an effort to preserve the peaceful feel and sound of the place. Groups of chairs accompanied by stools and tables were placed decoratively about, but it was the extraordinary well that caught Nadine's eye. The outer walls had been sculpted, and despite the poor lighting Nadine could see it was painted in vivid colors, enhancing the sculptures. The smell of tropical plants was strong, and a melody strung together by a guitar and flutes created an exotic musical backdrop.

A little light-headed, Nadine placed her open palm above her breasts. She closed her eyes for just a second, and blew out audibly through her mouth. The sound of her own breath startled her. Embarrassed, she looked up to see if Catherine had overheard her case of the nerves, but to her relief the woman had not. She was reaching for the handle of another door, seemingly oblivious to Nadine's unrest.

Catherine ushered her into an artfully decorated room. “Please feel free to make yourself comfortable,” she told her before she left her alone.

Nadine realized this room was the source of the music she had heard out in the courtyard. It was coming from a turntable mounted in an antique cherrywood cabinet. She knew a lot about antiques because she had grown up in a house that was quite full of them. Grandma Rose had a strong fondness for antique furniture. Through the years she had accumulated a wide array of chests of drawers, tables, desks, beds, and sideboards. Everyone in Ashland knew how Auntie Rose, as she was known by most, loved old things. So as elderly family members passed away, if the residents of Ashland had a barn or shed cleaning, Grandma Rose was always notified just in case she wanted some of the furniture that wasn't worth anything to anyone anymore. Not once did Grandma Rose come home empty-handed from these ventures. She always managed to find something of value in what others considered worthless. Maybe that's where Nadine had acquired her love for old, beautiful things.

A reminiscent smile surfaced as she traced the floral pattern carved along the edge of the well-preserved cabinet with her finger. Grandma Rose's eye for things that were worthless to most of the people in Ashland, Mississippi, ended up being a main source of funding for Nadine's college education. Time and time again Nadine watched her strip the furniture and restore it almost to its original beauty, telling her all the while how the dents and marks gave the piece character like moles and wrinkles did for a human face.

People began to travel from Tennessee and Arkansas to bid on Grandma Rose's antiques, and it didn't take her long to realize how “these well-to-do folks,” as she called them, valued the furniture. From that point on, the majority of her time was spent gathering pieces from all over Russell County and restoring them.

Nadine recalled how Grandma Rose always paid the owner “a little something” so that her conscience wouldn't bother her so bad when she made what she termed “a killin'” off of each piece.

A female voice interrupted her thoughts. “I am Madame Deane. I must tell you, most people are more enamored with my collection of Waterford crystal than that old cabinet.”

Remembering the split in her pants, Nadine whirled around to face her hostess. “The cherrywood cabinet reminds me of the house that I grew up . . . in.”

Nadine hoped the shock she felt did not show on her face. Because of the strong, self-assured tone of the woman's voice, she had expected to see a well-manicured elderly woman with every hair in place, and a posture that signaled her feelings of inherent superiority. Instead she found before her one of the strangest white women she had ever seen. She was a slip of a female, with her hair elaborately arranged like the Athenian women of ancient Greece. A headband of artificial olive leaves had slipped precariously low on her brow, allowing a white bang and frayed side tendrils to protrude underneath. The band continued, wrapping itself around a large braided ball that sat at the nape of her neck. It was like looking at a comical character from the past.

Nadine couldn't help but stare. Brooches held two dress-length pieces of rectangular material together at her shoulders, while a cord belt encircled her small body, creating soft folds of material above and below it. Her large, dark eyes twinkled in a well-worn face that showed not even a hint of disillusionment over being confined to a wheelchair.

Nadine could tell she was not the only one making a full appraisal as the woman's eyes narrowed in speculation, then slowly opened wide with a dawning recognition. In an elegant manner she placed frail fingers over pleated lips, and an unnatural gleam filled her eyes as she said to Nadine, her head nodding with each word, “So you finally decided to come.”

Chapter
3

Nadine made a half turn and looked behind her, although she thought she and Madame Deane were alone in the room. Reassured that they were alone and thinking, What in the heck have I gotten myself into now? she squeezed her hands together, faced her strange hostess, and searched her mind for the right words to say to this crazy white woman.

“I must say this is a first I had to come all the way to Eros for somebody to tell me I remind them of someone they know,” she quipped, then turned serious as she tried to cut a path to any sanity Madame Deane might have. “I'm sorry to inconvenience you like this,” Nadine continued, “but there was a bit of miscommunication between your housekeeper, Catherine, and me. I thought you had a telephone here on the premises. I wanted to call my boss and tell him what had happened and that I was here.” She felt a sudden need to tell her story again. “You see, everything was happening so fast. I was led here by—I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself. My name is—”

“I know who you are, Lenora. I knew you would come.
She
told me about it,” her thin mouth set in a grim line, “and I in turn told Catherine. But of course Catherine did not believe me. The cliff dwellers also knew you would come, but it's been a long time since we've visited their side of the island. The accident has caused all sorts of problems,” she explained.

“Wait a minute, Madame Deane.” Nadine showed the woman her palms to ward off any further misunderstandings. “I'm Nadine Clayton. I live in the United States. I'm working on an international project that will—”

“There is no need to be shy, Lenora,” the eccentric woman broke into Nadine's explanation. “I know why you are here. The time has almost come. Catherine,” she called, raising her voice slightly.

Seconds later a composed Catherine walked into the room, and Nadine surmised she had to be listening around the corner to appear so quickly.

“Prepare the third bedchamber for Lenora, and see to it that she has everything she needs for her stay here, would you?”

“Yes, of course, madame.”

“Now,” Madame Deane paused, inhaling deeply, “all of this excitement has begun to tire me out. So you two go away now and leave me alone.”

Nadine watched as Madame Deane tried, unsuccessfully, to push a low-hanging artificial olive leaf away from her eye.

“I've got so much to think about now that Lenora has come.” She began to wheel herself toward a wall of books as she waved them away with a flip of her hand.

Nadine looked from Madame Deane to Catherine who was following her mistress' requests. She beckoned for Nadine to do the same. For the second time that day she found herself following someone with a total sense of helplessness. As the two women crossed the threshold, Madame Deane called out another instruction to Catherine. “When you are finished with Lenora, come back. I should be ready to retire.” Her high-pitched voice trailed off behind them.

Without a word Catherine proceeded down the wide hallway, passing distinctive three-legged tables topped with black- or red-figure vases. At any other time the decor would have caused quite a stir for Nadine, but not now. She was trying to determine if both Madame Deane and Catherine were mentally unstable. Maybe she had a few screws missing as well for going along with them!

Lord, Nadine thought, how the folks in Ashland would have a field day with a story like this if they ever got wind of it. It would probably be talked about for generations. How that strange grandchild of Auntie Rose claimed she was mistaken for someone who lived on a Caribbean island. They probably would recount how as a child she had a habit of stretching the truth a bit, and now as an adult her ability in that area had. definitely increased. Lucky for her, she was out of the country and there was no chance of them ever finding out.