Coming Home

COMING HOME – is a short story and has been released by Decadent Publishing. This story was published on January 1, 2011. Nice New Years Present!

Blurb:

After losing her husband and son in a car wreck, Lyn is left alone. Even though overwhelmed with grief, financial responsibilities bring her back to reality. With the decision to sell her ancestral home, Lyn is greeted by memories of childhood as she meets up with the water dryad and brownie couple, who had helped her grandmother raise her. The old plantation on the coastal marsh along the bayou of Louisiana reunites her with the joys she’d long forgotten—until she finds herself in the middle of a mysterious war.

Doors open and secrets are revealed, but will she be able to survive the nightmares she’d left behind as a child or walk away with more than she’d expected?

Excerpt:

The lady of the manor was home.

“Hey Curly! It’s about time you came back here!” Lyn looked to see where the booming voice was coming from and saw the small brownie bounding down the back porch steps.

“I haven’t been called that in years, Elden,” she stated, recalling the unruly curls that tormented her teen years.

“You are selling the place.” The statement was presented as fact.

The small man had kept the house clean and neat for a hundred years now, and he fought back his emotion poorly, letting a tear race down his wrinkled face. Elden and his beloved wife, Isla, resided in the home where they met and fell in love, raised their children, and were now proud great-great-grandparents of many little brownies. They loved this old plantation home and had lived here longer than any human occupants.

“I’m not sure. Six months ago, the decision was easy.” The pain and tears began to flow as she recalled the lives lost. “But when Chris and little Christopher died….” She halted, caught in an overwhelming sadness. “I don’t know if I can lose any more.”

The Beginning

Weaving in and out of the trees as she did growing up, Lyn moved to the beat of drums, feeling more than she heard. The rhythm of the marshlands pulsed during sunset, throbbing beats reaching around corners, moving her body slowly in a methodic rhythm she thought she had forgotten. The birds on the marsh flew across the water, waiting for curious fish to rise up and deliver themselves for dinner. The waves lapped gently against the rocks at the side of the property. Lyn noticed the small raft she used as a child, torn to bits by the changing tides, holding desperately to the stringy remains of a once-proud rope.
She slowed to watch the golden light glisten in the trees and began to hum the songs she learned at her grandmother’s knee. Her grandmother had taught her songs of myth and legend. Songs her classmates had teased her about until they came to visit her at home and were taken in by the otherworldly look of Beann Fhionn.
Tonight’s song was a hopeful lament, as their land’s fate was in the hands of the returning lady of the house. A mansion haunted with love along the bayou of Louisiana, coming slowly to life as she passed through the grounds.
Lyn began to doubt her earlier decision to sell the house. This is more beautiful now than I remember. I’m not sure I can go through with the sale.
She crossed to the back of the property and saw that the gardens at the edge of the marsh had grown wild and beautiful. Her petite feet barely made an imprint on the ground. She noticed the changes since she last visited. The gardens had swallowed the small fountain and footpath where she played when she was little. There was still a worn path from the screened-in back porch that wrapped around the house and led to the remains of the boat dock.
She kept close to the house as she walked around and picked up the path at the base of the wide wooden stairs, then stopped and listened to the world happily greet the night. The sun left an orange glow on the leaves of the trees and the animals excitedly chattered around her. She gathered wildflowers and strolled to the water’s edge, taken away from her troubles by the simplicity of a sunset. A small ripple grew a few feet away as the water spirit who taught her of her unique heritage rose in greeting. She thought of how much she had changed since those early lessons.
When I was fifteen, I didn’t want to be a fairy. I tried to hide my ears from everyone so they would stop teasing me. I just wanted to be human in a human world.
“Hello Theenia, it is nice to see you again,” she said to the water nymph as Theenia emerged from the marsh.
“Good to see you, Lyn. Welcome home.” The nymph sat on the bank. Lyn hugged the woman, who was almost a mother to her, and lowered herself down next to her. “You do not look well, Princess.”
“I had forgotten how beautiful this place was,” Lyn commented, ignoring the observation. “I feel better simply being here with you again. Somehow when I am here, I do not feel as overwhelmed with pain.”
Lyn looked carefully at the woman who helped raise her after her parents died. Still beautiful, her moss green hair flowed down her curvy translucent green body. Theenia was wise and already old when men conquered this land. Age never touched her, but Lyn could see the sadness in the slump of her shoulders. The sparkle in her eyes was gone, and although she didn’t speak her sympathy, Lyn could feel it emanating from her.
“I don’t know if I can sell this place.” Lyn heard the emotion in her tone. The passing of her husband and child had ripped at her soul for six months, only adding to her need to connect to a happier time and place.
Lyn knew Theenia could see the changes in her appearance.
“Your glow is barely visible,” Theenia said gently.
“I know. I found lines around my eyes the last time I looked in the mirror. I’m not young anymore, Theenia,” Lyn responded, as she fought the desire to bend with sadness.
She recalled the joyful laughter of childhood that would escape from her as she played along the water’s edge, and knew it wasn’t in her anymore. Yet, she could sense a peace coming to rest within as she reconnected with the energies of the marshlands. Lyn was a child of the land, and here she would be able to heal from the harshness of civilization.
As the sunlight faded leaving behind a cooler breeze, Lyn sat with her friend in comfortable silence. The brownies and other nymphs in the area greeted Lyn’s return with smiles. The lady of the manor was home.
“Hey Curly! It’s about time you came back here!” Lyn looked to see where the booming voice was coming from and saw the small brownie bounding down the back porch steps.
“I haven’t been called that in years, Elden,” she stated, recalling the unruly curls that tormented her teen years.
“You are selling the place.” The statement was presented as fact.
The small man had kept the house clean and neat for a hundred years now, and he fought back his emotion poorly, letting a tear race down his wrinkled face. Elden and his beloved wife, Isla, resided in the home where they met and fell in love, raised their children, and were now proud great-great-grandparents of many little brownies. They loved this old plantation home and had lived here longer than any human occupants.
“I’m not sure. Six months ago, the decision was easy.” The pain and tears began to flow as she recalled the lives lost. “But when Chris and little Christopher died….” She halted, caught in an overwhelming sadness. “I don’t know if I can lose any more.”
“You could always move back home, little one.” Hope was evident in Theenia’s words. Lyn expected the suggestion, but was unprepared for how much it hurt to hear it. Her concept of home vanished in a moment.
She easily recalled the day everything changed. Four months ago, she had been at home cooking dinner for her husband and their precocious toddler when the police knocked on her door. The look on their faces told her everything. They lived on a mountain in the northwest where Lyn could feel her connection with nature, and Chris could work in his hometown of Seattle.
Chris took their son on a boating trip for the afternoon so that Lyn could prepare the house for a party that night. The police knocked on her door while she was in the back of the house. She walked happily onto the porch and greeted them with a smile.
“Chris and Christopher were in a car wreck,” was the only thing she heard.
“No!” She screamed and collapsed, her body wrecked with pain and loss, all happiness drained from her. The officer caught her and gently lowered her to her porch.
“I’m sorry,” leaked into her mind somehow. Looking back, she could not recall actually hearing the words.
The police left her by her front door in stunned silence. She followed the wraparound porch to the back stairs. She slowly walked to the edge of the forest, sat down next to an oak, and listened. Lyn connected to the mountain and could feel the bodies of her family in the tattered remains of Chris’ car.
Her little boy, so much like a cherub, silent, pale, and cold at the edge of the road. She felt the sadness in the trees as the woods mourned the loss of the little fairy prince. Chris was next to his son. Completely human, he did not resonate with the woods in the same way, but Lyn could feel the panic that had been there the moment he knew they would not live. She felt it in the surrounding earth.
She slowly melted into the moss at the oak’s roots and wept for her family. The sunny day became foggy and covered her grief in a haze of sympathetic air. Heartbroken and distraught, she lived in her bathrobe for a week. Chris’ sister identified the bodies at the morgue. Lyn already knew the truth, and did not need or want to see them that way, cold and impersonal in a metal cavern surrounded by death. She wanted to keep the house as it was when they left. She emptied Christopher’s toy box onto the floor and played with his toys to avoid the task of packing them up. She later saw a video of them laughing and having fun on the boat. They had joined a tourist trip across the harbor and the tourism company sent her a copy of the video. Her heart ached when she watched them, although it brought a semblance of joy knowing they had a wonderful last day together.
The mounting pile of bills pulled Lyn out of her grief. She didn’t want to leave their home, but she didn’t work and needed to pay the mortgage. Then she remembered Chris told her they could put Christopher through college with the money from the home on the marsh. Lyn knew she had to return to the magical place she grew up in and prepare it for sale. She had called Elden and let him know she was considering selling the land, but would be sure to come and visit before any final decision was made. Lyn had not been to Beann Fhionn since her wedding, and she knew it was easier to discuss this in person. Elden, Isla, and Theenia deserved that much. Lyn packed enough for a week and asked Chris’ sister to watch the house.
Lyn looked up from her memories to see Theenia and Elden watching the child they love relive her suffering. They had known little of the tragedy outside of what she told Elden two months ago.
Elden spoke up. “You need food and sleep, child. Isla has prepared food, and I have the fire going in your room.”
Lyn felt warmth and welcome bubble inside of her, and she smiled through the pain. She paused as she entered the hallway just inside the home. The kitchen was off to her left, full of cooking smells. The sitting room off to her right looked the same. The tables had no dust on them. With fresh flowers in the vases, it looked as if the owners had simply run out for a minute. Her grandmother’s favorite scent of lavender floated in the air.
“Never wear those fancy perfumes, Lyn. They give people headaches. Use nature’s scents.” Her Granny’s words rang through her mind.
Her grandmother had passed away a few years earlier, and the house was deeded to her in the will. Her Granny was the only family Lyn ever knew. She never met her parents. She learned they loved her and left her with Granny. She never asked many questions, and there were no pictures to show her what they looked like.
She smiled faintly as she remembered her Grandmother. Granny had made sure she had the best of everything. She treasured the friends she made at school because didn’t have any siblings to play with at home. It was Granny, the brownies, and Theenia at Briant Mansion. There had been times when she would play hide and seek with Elden. She learned all of the secret pathways, hidden hallways, and random staircases hidden within the walls.
“I never did find them all,” she said with a small smile of remembrance.
“You gave it a really good try,” Isla, Elden’s beloved, said quietly from the kitchen doorway.
“Isla!” Lyn ran over and gave the small brownie a hug. Isla had tended to Lyn the same as she did her own children.
As Lyn wandered through the house, it looked the same, but felt hollow and empty. Granny’s presence no longer floated through the home. She found her bags at the front door. Elden must have brought them from her car. She climbed the staircase, the wheels from her bags thumping against the staircase. As she headed to her old room, warmth fell over her. The fire roared and soup waited on the breakfast tray. The welcoming signs of home helped to relax months of tension and pain.
She knew she would dream happy tonight. She always had in this room. Huge in size, it fit her queen-sized bed along the back wall. At the foot of the bed was enough space to have a sitting area around the fireplace. She used to sit there at Granny’s feet and listen to fantastic stories. Each night she fell asleep to the sound of lilting music echoing from the fireplace, inspiring her to create a fairy tale world in her mind using the descriptions of ogres, dwarves, fairies, and elves from the stories. Lyn ate and then sat quietly in her old bed, watching the flames dance in the fireplace until she fell asleep.