“Sounds good. We won’t find it sitting around here,” said Amadeus, his voice steeped in frustration.
“We all agree that something has to happen. What do you mean by going back to the beginning?”
I glance at Lilly who has an exciting sheen in her eyes. Knowing her, that doesn’t bode well, but maybe she’s onto something?
“I want to see the graves of auntie and the parents.”
As so often, she catches me by surprise.
“The graves? We don’t even know where they are. What do you expect to find?”
“I have no idea, just a strong urge to see their graves. Perhaps the dead are talking to us? You remember this Ghost Whisperer stuff. The dead are waiting for us to connect before they cross over to give us important clues.”
“I could help with that. I’m good with clues.” Mikey’s eyes light up.
“That’s a great idea. With you at my side, we’ll find what we need.”
Where Lilly gets her conviction is a mystery, but as Amadeus said, we’ve nothing to lose. Although, Elise rolls her eyes and Amadeus huffs. None of us are impressed with the plan but we decide to go. It can’t hurt to visit the cemetery. We are in town every day visiting Scott, a detour won’t hurt. It’s better than sitting around at home wondering where the next blow is coming from. I close the meeting.
“I don’t hold much hope the dearly departed will talk to us, but as long as there’s nothing better to do, why not go past the cemetery?”
Chapter Thirteen
Elise: 9 March 2017, Morning, Wright’s Homestead
Hours have passed since the intruders fled the house. The night has swallowed their noisy retreat through the undergrowth leaving nothing but the familiar silence of the night. As if they’d never been here.
I open the door again and stare into the dawn. I’ve never missed the city with its nosy neighbors and relentless traffic that only seems to sleep between two and four in the morning. At this moment, though, I could do with a row of street lamps with their amber glow, or the odd light flickering in nearby houses, where early risers prepare to join the morning rush to work. The intruders surprised us and we are out of sorts.
After the men left, a wave of fear rippled through the Tribe and settled as a sense of nausea in my stomach. It’s still there. Even the morning’s cold breath cannot drive it out. I hate to admit that Tom was right. I’m not safe in this house by myself in the middle of nowhere.
Prince joins me. He stubs my left hand with his nose telling me he’s at my side. I acknowledge him with a scratch behind his ears and leave my hand on his head. Together, we stand in the doorframe and watch dawn’s early light expanding over the sky, reluctant to say goodbye to the darkness of the night, yet not ready to embrace fully the light of the new day.
I pace through the large room and make myself a cup of tea, which I forget and allowed going cold. Whom am I kidding? I’m hiding behind a cloak of a functioning multiplicity, but I’m not functioning. Parts of me are shaking with fear. Parts that I push to the back. I look at my hands that an hour ago were willing to strangle another person. Well, not exactly by me but Amadeus.
What am I thinking? I’m not a man or a child or a warrior. I’m Elise, a middle-aged woman who flees into the fantasy of being someone else and takes over the skills and mindset of Amadeus. But that’s not real. Amadeus is me. We are not separate. We only think we are. I touch the plaster on my forehead where Amadeus got hit earlier. My forehead.
That being different people appears real to us doesn’t help. I can lead conversations with him inside my head, as I can do with all the other parts of my Self. Doing so transports me to a place not many people can even dream of. The richness of my inner world is as colorful and exciting as my imagination allows.
At the end of the day, though, they are all me. The different skills, memories, and thoughts are all mine. It has always been me, a woman with a rich inner life that others called crazy. I’m not crazy, but I’m not well either. We’ve come a long way, but we aren’t there yet.
I need to dispel the fear I’m experiencing. I am still threatened by someone or something out there. A faceless enemy closing in on me and its reach has spilled over to Scott. It’s my fault he is in the hospital fighting for his life.
It’s easier said than done. The parts may all be me but I can’t access their skills and knowledge at will. I wish I could. Then I wouldn’t shrink mentally into a helpless child when danger knocks at my door. Like right now, feeling all small and helpless. I need to dispel the fear.
Someone or something out there is still a threat to me. A faceless enemy closes in on me and his reach has spilled over to Scott. It’s my fault he is in the hospital fighting for his life.
When I moved into the homestead, I brought trouble with me. It’s as if evil is following me wherever I go. Perhaps it’s connected to me with a kind of invisible umbilical cord. Tripping me up and throwing me back into the dirt whenever I get a glimpse of light and happiness. I’m like poison to everyone I come in contact with. If I were a real woman and not this wimp who disappears at the tiniest conflict into an imaginary tree house, things could be different.
“That’s enough now. We are not to blame for what happened and you may
