The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (13 page)

“What’s with the weather here anymore, Eagan?” Dad
asked.

Eagan shook his head staring out the window. 
“Don’t know, lad, it surely ‘tis odd.”

 Dad pulled the car as close to the house as
possible and let Eagan make a run for it.  He then parked next to the
garage and turned to face me in the back seat.  “Maybe you ought to come
in, the storm is getting pretty bad.”

“I’m ok, Dad.  It may be better for Grandpa
if it’s just you and Uncle Eagan right now.  It’s going to be a lot for
him to take. Does he know you’re coming?”

“Eagan called him after we spoke.  He told
him that we need to talk to him about something very important.  He
doesn’t know any of the details yet, just that there’s an urgent matter to discuss.”

“Dad, be supportive, please, he’s lost a lot.”
After I said it I felt kind of bad, like I didn’t really need to instruct
him.  But the way he looked at me made me think otherwise – that maybe he
had needed to hear that.  To be reminded.

“I will. This will be a tough one,” he said
glancing out the window. “If this storm picks up more steam, get yourself in
the house, ok?”

“Ok, Dad, good luck.”  He reached to the back
and grasped my arm, gently squeezing it.  His somber expression was
impossible to hide and I felt relieved to wait it out in the car.  He
opened the door, letting in a rush of wind and sprinkles of rain.  The air
chilled me, so I put on my coat and zipped it up. 

I jumped up into the front seat. At first I just
sat and tried to keep the windshield clear by turning on the wipers.  It
was a waste of time.  The wiper no sooner reversed its position than the
view was obstructed again.  I finally gave up and settled back into the
cushion, imagining what was going on inside Dad’s childhood home.  I
pictured Eagan doing most of the talking, and Dad refraining from making eye
contact with his father.  Then Grandpa going to pieces at the news and
collapsing on the sofa in the sitting room.

 With my eyes closed I could see his ancient
face, tortured by the idea that there may have been anything questionable in
the death of the woman he’d spent more than fifty years with.  I worried
what it might do to him.  He had seemed so weak and broken when I spoke to
him at the funeral.  This felt like it had the potential to destroy
him. 

As my mind raced around all the possible responses
he might have, a quick clap of thunder shot me out of my trance and forced my
eyes wide open.  I quickly turned on the wipers again.  The rain had
subsided somewhat and I was able to gain at least a few seconds of visibility.
I turned on the car radio and tried to distract myself with some Irish
tunes.  I pulled my sleeve up over my hand and wiped the fog off the
inside of the door window. 

To my right was the garden area and a bit farther,
the driveway and road.  I watched a small rabbit huddle in the garden,
finding shelter under a bench.  It sat up, licked it paws and drew down
its long ears, trying to remove the droplets of water clinging to them.
 Suddenly little Bugs sat upright, ears twitching and nose flicking,
obviously picking up on something nearby. 

I wiped down the fog again, trying to catch sight
of whatever had startled the small hare.  He let out a sharp cry and
jumped, landed in a puddle, but quickly recovered and was soon invisible as he
made his way into the misty garden.  I had to laugh at the poor little
guy’s acrobatics – but my laughter didn’t last long.

 Out of the corner of my eye, near the house,
in the same area the rabbit had been staring at, I saw the movement.  The
motion was quickly hidden in another rush of heavy rain.  My heart began
pumping in anticipation of something…something unknown.  Another wipe-down
of the window revealed the frightening flash directly beside the car. It
quickly shot past the car–but to where, I had no idea. My inability to focus on
whatever it was triggered the fight or flight response. I grabbed the door
handle and thought about making a run for it. 

I looked to the front door of the house and
figured it would only take a few seconds to get there.  Without any
second-guessing I turned the handle and pushed the door open.  The rain
rushed in, spattering on my face as though I were standing in a shower.  I
began to slide my leg out the door when I heard a thud on the hood of the
car.  A heavy thud, like something or someone had jumped up on top of
it.  I quickly pulled the door shut and turned the wipers on. 

My heart was in my throat and my mind was
spinning, unsure of what to do.  Part way through the wipers I could see a
dark shape pin itself up against the window, its form and texture
pulsating.  It was indistinguishable, phantom-like in appearance.  It
stopped the movement of the wipers. Panicking, I quickly locked all the
doors.  I fumbled for the keys, already in the ignition, and had just
started to turn them when a low sound came from directly in front of me. It was
almost like a growl, followed by scratches.  The only thing separating me
from whatever was producing the noises was this piece of glass, which now was
completely obstructed and black, as though I was driving in a tunnel at night.

I turned the key and put my foot on the gas,
revving the engine.  I could see movement on the windshield…not really
movement, more like a change in the shadows. Light was coming through in spots
so I began backing the car towards the house.  I craned my neck, staring
out a small unobstructed spot in the back window, and floored the gas
pedal.  I only had a few feet of room before I needed to stop the car or
end up crashing into Grandpa’s porch
.  Get that thing off the hood,
was all I could think.

I got within inches of the front porch and slammed
on the brakes. The quick sporadic motion was enough to force whatever it was
off the hood.  The dark mass seemed to be sucked away, enabling me to see
out the front window.  I searched the entire front area slowly with only
my eyes, afraid to make any movement.  There was nothing but the falling
drops of rain.  I checked both sides, clearing the windows again with my
sleeve, but saw only blowing leaves and more rain. 

My heart pounded, adrenaline still surging through
my body. I sat quietly for a few minutes, trying to calm down, but my head kept
spinning back and forth with each random sound.  After twisting and
turning my neck in every direction I felt fairly certain that whatever had been
on the hood was gone, so I once again reached for the door handle.  I
turned it and slowly opened the door, centimeters at a time, listening,
watching, and checking everything that I could see.  Once again, I slid my
foot out the door, but not before bending down and looking under the car. 
It all seemed clear.  I stepped out and stood by the car, door still open,
acting as a shield, and scoured the entire yard.  The rain was subsiding
now, so I was able to make out shapes and forms native to the yard.

I closed the door and stood, letting the remaining
raindrops trickle down from the top of my head.  I scoped out the area,
eyes darting in and out of focus, unable to believe what I had just
experienced. I walked to the front of the car, examining the hood and
windshield.  It all looked fine.  I rubbed my hand along the damp
shiny surface, searching for anything, then spotted a small dent and scratch
barely visible, directly in the center of the hood.  I brushed away the
excess moisture and traced my fingers over the dent; certain it was made by
whatever had been perched there.

I quickly rotated around, narrowing my eyes,
taking in the drenched environment.  Near the garage, where a few minutes
earlier my heart had literally missed a beat, I saw something glistening in the
grass.  I edged my way over to the spot and crouched down to get a closer
look.  At first all I could see were blades of grass and rain droplets
clinging to them.  I moved my hand gingerly over the top of the blades,
releasing the moisture to make its way to the soaked earth beneath.  Just
as I was about to give up, my eye caught sight of a dark angled object barely
extending its tip above the grass.  I reached down and smoothed the blades
away to get a closer look.  It was some kind of claw, slightly glistening,
its light reflecting off the damp grass.  I tried to lift it up but had to
pull hard to get it to release its grip on the soil. Holding it up, I saw it
was green, except for the part that had been imbedded in the earth.  I
pulled a Kleenex from my pocket and wiped off the damp dirt, revealing an
abalone-colored end with a brown inside, somewhat like the marrow of a
bone.   

I wrapped up the claw and tucked it into the
pocket of my coat, then jumped back into the car and returned it to the parking
place by the garage.  By this time the rain had stopped and so had the
incessant pounding of my heart.  I took in a long deep breath and opened
the car door, letting the cool fresh air wash over me.  The shadowy figure
obviously was after me. Why?  I distinctly felt threatened by it this
time.  The force of it when it jumped on the hood told me it was heavy and
powerful.  But why would it appear and then disappear after a relatively
short time?  And was the claw I found from it, and why couldn’t I see
it?  It had no distinguishable shape.  If Bram hadn’t been a witness
to it as well, I might have thought I was going crazy.

Dad and Eagan finally stepped out onto the porch
and stood there talking for a few minutes. When he made his way back to the
car, Dad was carrying a small black attaché case and a manila envelope.  He
jumped in and started the ignition before he even spoke.

“We need to deliver this to the police,” he
stammered, backing out of the driveway.

“What about Uncle Eagan?” I asked, looking back
towards the house.

“He’s staying with Conor….he didn’t take the news
well at all.  We called his doctor; he’s on his way over right now.” Dad’s
expression was grave.

“What did he do, Dad…when you told him about
Grandma?”

“Nothing at first; he sat down on his chair,
staring straight ahead.” He gritted his teeth anxiously.

“He mumbled Shannah’s name a few times.  When
Eagan laid out the whole story, you could see it taking its toll.  He’s
having a hard time understanding. It got to a point where he tuned us out,
wouldn’t listen anymore. He started telling stories about when he and Mom were
first married; started acting like Mom was just out of town. He didn’t even
know who I was after a while...asked if I ever met his boy Jack.” Dad’s voice
trailed off, leaving him turning his head nervously as he checked his rear-view
mirror.

I sat back, unable to say anything.  The
trepidation in my father’s voice shot through me like a bolt of
electricity.  He had just said good-bye to his mother and now his father
was at a breaking point.  We drove the last few miles in silence except
for an occasional squeak of the wiper as it cleared off the last straggling
bits of rain. 

We pulled into the police parking lot and waited
for a group of officers to flag us into a space.  There seemed to be a lot
of activity at the station…uniformed officers loitering about, along with
sporadic groups of evening-attired partygoers making their way inside.

“What’s going on here?” I wondered out loud.

Dad sighed heavily, “Looks like some kind of KGD
gathering, why today of all days?” 

“What’s that?” I wondered.

“KGD…Killarney Garda Department.  They must
be having a benefit or something…who knows.”

He shook his head in annoyance.  He grabbed
the case and envelope and motioned for me to follow.  We made our way
through the meandering groups of revelers just in time to walk inside with
Detective Powers.  He was the officer who had been helping out and
advising Dad on what needed to be done.  Dad introduced us quickly and
insisted on a minute alone with the detective.  He obliged and led us to
his office where, once again, I found myself shut out and waiting.  The
glass wall allowed me to take in their silent interaction.  I watched intently,
trying to interpret through their body language where their conversation was
going.  Since I met Bram I’d become much more aware of body language and
trying to read it.

It was hard.  I wasn’t even sure what had
been in the envelope that now found itself in the detective’s hands.  Dad
was doing most of the talking, with the detective immersed in whatever was
written on the pages he held.  He stood up, waiting for Dad to unlock the
attaché, then spun it around to examine its contents.  From what I could
tell it was more papers. 

A group of the partying citizens made its way
towards me, led by a jovial, round-faced tour guide.  She giggled and bit
her lip as she engaged in a flirtatious exchange with one of the revelers. They
stopped a few feet away, directly in front of me, blocking my view.  It
was an awkward change of pace to see people having such a good time.  By
the time the group moved along, Dad and the detective were right outside his
office door.  The two of them shook hands and Dad headed towards me.

“Let’s go, Willow,” he said in a low voice.

I waited until we were back outside before asking
him anything and even then decided it was best to wait until we were in the
car. “So? What’s going on, Dad, what are all the papers for?”

He slowly backed out of the lot, waiting for the
groups to clear the area. “Papers to allow the exhumation.  The police
wanted them signed.”

“Grandpa agreed to it then?”

“No, he never got that far, agreeing or not
agreeing.  He became confused. The doctor believes the stress of the whole
thing threw him into a kind of detached state.  He’s unable to deal with
it all, so… he isn’t.”

 I flipped on the car’s heater to dry myself
off and get rid of the chill that started me trembling. “If Grandpa didn’t
agree to it, then how is it you have papers to allow it?”