“Why do so many children work here on the docks, and on a Sunday?”
“Each person gets paid per box, during the harvest season there is more work than there are people. Families will allow their children to work to help save money for when there is nothing to be harvested,” Sigmund said as they piled into Bessie for the ride into the hills to meet the sisters.
Driving up the valley, Helena smiling marveled at how beautiful and green the area looked. Much warmer than San Francisco, without a cloud in the sky.
“It’s so beautiful here, why would anyone ever leave?” Helena asked.
“It is nice, but the city has so much more to offer. I find the country a little too quaint for my tastes,” Sigmund replied.
Lane tracked the auto onto a drive passing under a sign that read entering the property of the Sisters of Napa Valley. Someone had nailed a poster on the right hand supporting column. It read, ‘Enter at your own risk’ in bold black letters and Helena could just make out ‘Witches’ that had been painted over and cleaned from the word ‘Sisters,’ “Why would anyone say such things?”
“Many people fear what they don’t understand. We are surrounded by individuals who are afraid of the unknown,” Sigmund said.
“That doesn’t seem fair, shouldn’t everybody be treated honorably?” Helena asked.
“I think so,” Sigmund replied.
Behind the columns and signs stretched fields of grapevines with the path snaking around the low rolling hills. Lane navigated Bessie around a bend in the road, around a small knoll they could see the track opened into a vast hollow. Here, like the Christian Brothers, sat several low one-story buildings, but the difference became apparent by the enormous wooden tubs scattered haphazardly among the buildings. Each vat contained three or four women who seem to be dancing, and each container was serviced by a dozen women carrying grapes to them.
Lane slammed on the brakes at the site stopping the automobile thirty or forty paces away from the women working.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here with the car. I’d rather not get too close,” Lane said.
“What and miss the opportunity to mingle with these young ladies?” Sigmund asked giving Lane a verbal jab.
“You see any men here? I don’t think they like men.”
“Lane, try not to be so judgmental,” Helena said.
“I just don’t want to be turned into a water dog, remember my grandma is a witch.”
“And did she ever turn you into a water dog?” a woman with wild black hair, natural streaks of gray and white shot through, said as she approached the automobile. Her dress, tied up to her waist showing off her purple calves and sandal covered feet.
Lane almost jumped out of his skin when she spoke muttering a simple, “No ma’am.”
She burst into laughter at Lane’s reaction, the sound of her voice like music dancing upon Helena’s ears, “My, don’t you project an interesting aura,” her hand reaching towards Helena’s face.
Helena felt drawn to the woman, odd since they just met, like Lane she felt a little unsure how to react to her statement.
“Please forgive my rudeness, I am Ophelia Jinx. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”
Helena spoke up, here she found a sense of power never felt before, “I am Helena Brandywine, and this is Sigmund and Lane... My escorts,” she added that last part as an afterthought trying to defend why they were there.
“Miss Brandywine, the name does sound familiar. I feel you’ve come here for a compelling reason, why don’t you join me, and I’ll show you around, and we can talk,” Ophelia said.
Lane never attempted to move, but Sigmund slid out of the backseat to join the two women.
“Sir, I must ask you to stay in your carriage. We consider this sacred ground not to be tread upon by any male. If you step foot out of the carriage, I’m afraid we’ll need to sacrifice you to consecrate the ground again,” she said face like stone.
Lane gulped with an audible sound. Sigmund froze looking at Helena for guidance.
“It’s all right you two stay here I would hate to see you as guests in their human sacrifice. I believe I’m safe here.”
“My aren’t you city folk wound up and serious. I was only joshing, but we would like the men to stay in the carriage.”
Helena climbed out of the backseat, and Ophelia immediately took hold of her arm. She guided her several paces towards the winemaking operation before she began speaking again.
“Do you always travel with such a well-rounded bodyguard?”
“They are not my bodyguards, one is my driver, and one is my butler.”
“Wouldn’t your mother be impressed, two armed servants traveling the world with you?”
Helena stopped dead in her tracks. “You knew my mother?”
“Oh yes, when your father disappeared she came here and stayed with us for some time. We knew she would never stay with us forever because you were still a baby and in San Francisco. I think she loved it here, if it hadn’t been for you, I don’t think she would’ve ever left.”
“You said my father disappeared, my father died.”
“No dear, your father’s body was never found. His family and your mother’s family assumed he died, but your mother never gave up hope that he still lived.”
“So, the grave on our property...”
“I assume holds an empty coffin.”
“Excuse me a moment I think I need to sit down, this is all news to me,” Helena’s face turned pale, placed her hand to forehead fearing she might faint.
Ophelia led her over to a bench beneath the shade of a spreading live oak tree.
“I could tell you were your mother’s daughter as soon as I saw you. You look just like her.”
Regaining some composure, “Why was my mother even here? Why did she leave me?”
“After your father disappeared she kept searching for answers, much like you’re looking for answers now. I’m afraid she didn’t find what she was
