American history. Over half a million men died, although more of them died from sickness than battle.”
“A tragic chapter, that’s what it was.” Aunt Prue nodded.
“Now don’t get all worked up, Prudence Jane.” Aunt Grace patted her sister’s arm.
Aunt Prue swatted her hand away. “Don’t tell me when I’m worked up. I’m just tryin’ ta make sure they know the pig’s head from its tail. I’m the only one doin’ any teachin’.
That school should be payin’ me.”
I should have warned you not to get them started.
Now you tell me.
Lena shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’ve just never known anyone who was so knowledgeable about the War.”
Nice one. If by knowledgeable you mean obsessed.
“Now don’t you feel bad, sweetheart. Prudence Jane just gets her britches in a twist every now and again.” Aunt Grace elbowed Aunt Prue.
That’s why we put whiskey in her tea.
“It’s all that peanut brittle Carlton brought by.” Aunt Prue looked at Lena apologetically.
“I have a hard time with too much sugar.”
A hard time staying away from it.
My dad coughed and absentmindedly pushed his mashed potatoes around his plate. Lena saw an opportunity to change the subject. “So Ethan says you’re a writer, Mr. Wate.
What kind of books do you write?”
My dad looked up at her, but didn’t say anything. He probably didn’t even realize Lena was talking to him.
“Mitchell’s workin’ on a new book. It’s a big one. Maybe the most important one he’s ever written. And Mitchell’s written a mess a books. How many is it now, Mitchell?”
Amma asked, like she was talking to a child. She knew how many books my dad had published.
“Thirteen,” he mumbled.
Lena wasn’t discouraged by my dad’s frightening social skills, even though I was. I looked at him, hair uncombed, black circles under his eyes. When had it gotten this bad?
Lena pressed on. “What’s your book about?”
My dad came back to life, animated for the first time this evening. “It’s a love story. It’s really been a journey, this book. The great American novel. Some might say The Sound and the Fury of my career, but I can’t really talk about the plot. Not really. Not at this point. Not when I’m so close… to…” He was rambling. Then he just stopped talking, like someone had flipped a switch in his back. He stared at my mom’s empty chair as he drifted away.
Amma looked anxious. Aunt Caroline tried to distract everyone from what was quickly becoming the most embarrassing night of my life. “Lena, where did you say you moved here from?”
But I couldn’t hear her answer. I couldn’t hear anything. Instead, all I could see was everything moving in slow motion. Blurring, expanding and contracting, like the way heat waves look as they move through the air.
ThenThe room was frozen, except it wasn’t. I was frozen. My father was frozen. His eyes were narrow, his lips rounded to form sounds that hadn’t had a chance to escape his lips. Still staring at the plateful of mashed potatoes, untouched. The Sisters, Aunt Caroline, and
Marian were like statues. Even the air was perfectly still. The pendulum of the grandfather clock had stopped in mid-swing.
Ethan? Are you all right?
I tried to answer her, but I couldn’t. When Ridley had me in her death grip, I had been sure I was going to freeze to death. Now I was frozen, except I wasn’t cold and I wasn’t dead.
“Did I do this?” Lena asked aloud.
Only Amma could answer. “Cast a Time Bind? You? About as likely as this turkey hatchin’ a gator.” She snorted. “No, you didn’t do this, child. This is bigger than you. The
Greats figured it was time we had ourselves a talk, woman to woman. Nobody can hear us now.”
Except me. I can hear you.
But the words didn’t come out. I could hear them talking, but I couldn’t make a sound.
Amma looked up at the ceiling, “Thank you, Aunt Delilah. ’Preciate the help.” She walked over to the buffet and cut a piece of pumpkin pie. She put it on a fancy china plate and laid the plate in the center of the table. “Now I’m gonna leave this piece for you and the Greats, and you be sure to remember I did.”
“What’s going on? What did you do to them?”
“Didn’t do anything to them. Just bought us some time, I reckon.”
“Are you a Caster?”
“No, I’m just a Seer. I see what needs to be seen, what no one else can see, or wants to.”
“Did you stop time?” Casters could do that, stop time. Lena had told me. But only incredibly powerful ones.
“I didn’t do a thing. I only asked the Greats for some assistance and Aunt Delilah obliged.”
Lena looked confused, or frightened. “Who are the Greats?”
“The Greats are my family from the Otherworld. They give me some help every now and again, and they’re not alone. They’ve got others with them.” Amma leaned across the table, looking Lena in the eye. “Why aren’t you wearin’ the bracelet?”
“What?”
“Didn’t Melchizedek give it to you? I told him you needed to wear it.”
“He gave it to me, but I took it off.”
“Now why would you go and do a thing like that?”
“We figured out it was blocking the visions.”
“It was blockin’ somethin’ all right. Until you stopped wearin’ it.”