Other Washington Lore

I had no idea about some of the great stuff listed HERE ..... like the following....

HERE is some interesting Lore in Washington ....  like this one ....

The Bottomless Pit - Eastern Washington State

They call it Mel's hole, named after the man who first reported the pit's existence. Apparently the hole is located in the hills of Washington somewhere near Manatash Ridge, in Ellensburg, Washington.

As the story goes, much like any bottomless pit legend, you can throw in as much stuff as you want yet you will never hear it hit bottom and the hole never seems to fill up. Now if this was all to the legend I would simply pass it off as an underground stream, or something of that nature, washing away anything that might be thrown in, but there's more, much more.

According to the legend the hole was once used for cow dumping, an act once commonly practiced to dispose of sick cattle. The story told by Mel Water's, a self proclaimed inter-tribal medicine man named Red Elk, and several other eye witnesses is that at certain times of the day a black beam can be seen coming out of the hole.

The witnesses have described this beam as a dark column-like shadow, rising straight into the air and appearing out of nowhere. Water's also tells the tale of a local hunter dumping his dog into the hole after it's accidental death, only for the dog to appear trotting out of the woods several hours later. All witnesses involved, have claimed to feel an uneasiness whenever they're near the pit, and that animals seem to avoid the area as much as possible.

And ....  this...

Here Are The Creepiest Monster Legends From Every State In The Country

Monster: The Batsquatch

I'm trying to find some local legend to attach to my story and I come across this ....   From HERE ...  there is one listed for ever state!

WASHINGTON

Photo by docentjoyce.

Monster: The Batsquatch

The gist: Do I really have to spell it out for you?

Story: Sure, Mount Everest may have the Abominable Snowman, but Mt. Saint Helens has the Batsquatch. Only one of these mountain creatures has wings, so it’s obvious which one would win in a fight. First reported in 1980, the Batsquatch is said to have purple skin, piercing red eyes, a head resembling a cross between and an ape, and, duh, wings. According to unknown-creatures.com, a peer-reviewed online science journal, “some believe that it is actually a flying primate but researchers claim that it is more closely joined to the fruit bat of northern America.” And as typically happens with such beasts, it’s said to go after local livestock. At least one source believes that the creature comes not from Earth, but from another dimension opened up by the eruption of the volcano. Only one person, Butch Whittaker, has come forward with a full sighting. In 1994, while preparing to climb the mountain, he saw a strange, horrid, winged beast in the air. There are claims he has photos, but they don’t appear to be available online. Someone should start a Kickstarter to get him a scanner.
 

Hat Terminology & Uniform Info

I was looking up some hat details tonight - working on a story that has smacked me in the face.  At least the first scene and .... so I wanted a place to store it, great place right here.

Campaign Hat   <=== this is what I was looking for

Classes of Officer Uniforms

But this is good to know.

Hat Terminology -- All the Words You Need to Know!

If you're in the market for a hat, you need to make sure you get the right one!  No matter what kind of event you're getting ready for, using the right terminology will ensure that you wind up with a hat that meets your expectations.

Here are some of the most commonly-used words in the hat industry:

Beret -- a hat made out of felt or cloth with a wide, flat, round crown.

Bucket hat -- a casual cloth hat with a wide, downward-sloped brim that looks similar to an upside down bucket.  These hats are worn by both men and women, and they're most commonly seen on the beach.  For colder weather, you can get a bucket hat made out of wool or fur.

Cap -- a hat with a small brim in the front.  While the terms "cap" and "hat" are often used interchangeably, they are not the same thing.  A "cap" only refers to a small-brimmed hat -- like a baseball cap, for example -- while the term "hat" can be used to describe a variety of different styles.

Cashmere -- a type of wool that's incredibly soft and fine.  This wool comes specifically from the Kashmir goat, hence the name.

Church hat -- a fancy women's hat worn for Sunday worship.  Church hats are most common among African-American women.  These hats come with bold adornments, like bows, ribbon, sequins, or flowers.  

Cocktail hat -- a small hat for women that's usually worn on the front part of the head.  Typically, these hats come with a variety of adornments -- such as feathers, beads, jewels, flowers, or even a veil.  These hats are often seen at cocktail parties, which is where the name comes from.  However, they don't have to be worn at night.  These hats are also popular during daytime activities, like horse races.  The terms "cocktail hat" and "fascinator" are often used interchangeably.

Cowboy hat -- a hat with a wide brim and a tall crown that's typically made of felt or leather.  Originally, these hats were worn by cow hands, which is where the name comes from.

Crown -- the topmost part of a hat.  Low crown hats have less volume, so they're better for people who don't have very thick hair on top of their head.

Fascinator -- also known as a "cocktail hat", these headpieces were originally made out of lightweight knit.  Today, the fascinator is considered to be a miniature women's hat that attaches to the top of the head with a band, comb, or clip.  Fascinators are generally accepted at any event where hats are accepted, particularly at horse racing events like the Kentucky Derby.

Fur -- material made from the soft underfur of a beaver, rabbit, or similar animal.  Fur hats have an amazing ability to retain heat and block wind, making them the perfect choice for cold, blustery weather.  Underfur is also naturally water-resistant, so your fur hat won't be ruined by a passing rain shower.

Leather -- material made from the skin of an animal.  Before it can be manufactured, the skin must be tanned, meaning that it has special preservatives applied to it that prevent decay, make it more pliable, and make it more supple.  That way, it's more durable and easier to shape.

Newsboy cap -- a casual round cap with a brim that's also referred to as a "flat cap".  Worn by both men and women, newsboy caps can be made out of cloth, wool, leather, and tweed.  

Panama hat -- a wide-brimmed hat worn by both men and women.  These hats are made out of straw that comes from the Jipijapa, a palm tree that's common in Central and South America.  Despite the name, these hats originated in Ecuador, not Panama.

Silk -- a fine, soft, strong fiber that's made by silkworms in cocoons.  The fibers are collected and made into thread and fabric.  Silk is unique because it's a good material for both hot and cold temperatures.  It has naturally-strong absorbent qualities that help keep your head cool in the summertime, but it also has a low conductivity level, so it will prevent too much heat from escaping your head in the wintertime.

Sinamay straw -- Made from banana plants grown in the Philippines, the fibers are woven together to make a stiff, coarse fabric.  

Sisal straw -- fiber that is made from the sisal plant.  This plant is a type of Mexican agave that's widely grown for its big sword-shaped leaves that contain stiff fibers.

Sun hat -- a wide-brimmed hat that typically has a high crown.  Because it is so wide, it protects the face, neck, and portions of the shoulders from direct exposure to the sun.  The best sun hats are made out of material that's thick enough to prevent any UV rays from penetrating.  Woven and mesh hats have tiny gaps in them that can let dangerous UV rays pass through.

Top hat -- a men's silk hat that's shaped like a tall cylinder with a narrow brim and a flat crown.  While the top hat was much more popular in the 18th and early 19th centuries, it is still seen at formal occasions today.  

Wool -- the fine, soft, curly or wavy hair of a sheep, goat, or similar animal.  Because the hair has a natural crimp to it, it's easier for the individual fibers to stick together -- generating a thicker, bulkier fabric that's strong enough to retain heat and block wind.  Wool is also highly water-resistant and moisture-wicking, meaning that it can draw sweat away from the skin.

Dance

She walked to the bar and stood there a moment watching the bartender.  He was good looking, the stereotyped tall, dark and handsome. He met her eye contact and nodded to her.  Knowing him, she knew that he'd be down her way soon and she turned around, leaning up against the bar with her elbows resting on the mahogany wood.

There was a local band that came in once a week warming up on the small stage in the corner of the bar.  The waitresses seemed to float around the bar with their trays bobbing between tables like some dance that only they knew.  There were some tables being moved around so that an area was created in case anyone wanted to dance.  There was a lot going on.

Some of the patrons that had been at the bar were making their way to tables around the floor to enjoy the music better.  Once a seat next to where she was standing became free, she claimed it.  Her brother was the drummer in the band, so she was a regular at the bar, especially when they were playing.

She turned herself around so she was facing the bar, looking at the mirrored wall with all the different colored and shaped bottles on the shelves that were both functional and decor.  It made a pretty wall.  She took a deep breath.

Today was the anniversary of the day her whole life changed.  She had a baby with a Trisomy 13.  A little girl they had named Eloise Hope.  She had been born a little early, and for thirteen glorious hours they got to hold her and love her and take photos.  And then she slipped away, growing her wings.  With her daughter’s death, came the death of her marriage.  Something just broke between them and the fun, loving, relationship was nothing but sorrow and anger.  He moved to a different state, and she sold and moved out of their home.  Her baby was buried there in the local cemetery, and she wouldn't be moving away.

It was two years ago.  Two whole years where you would think she would have started to move on, but she still had a crater sized hole in her heart and soul.  Something she knew would never go away.  Things may change, she may be able to deal with not only the loss of her child but the loss of her life she thought she would have.

It was all over.  But, she was creating a new life.

She got her degree and had started working as a kindergarten teacher at the local elementary school.  She got a new little house of her own.  She had plants that were still living.  She got herself a cat, and was thinking about getting a dog.

But right now, it was just her and Luna.  Her black cat.

"Hey," he said coming up to her from the other side of the bar.  She snapped out of the starring off into space, and thinking.

"Hey Eli," she said.  "How are you?"

"Great!" He smiled.   She actually loved his smile, his dimples, and his face.  She'd always been attracted to him.  They had a small thing freshman year of high school but it was one of those fleeting things that didn't last long but they were always friends.  Then drifted apart after high school.  Kept track of each other here and there through social media and spoke now and again.   "Divorce is finally final, no more ball and chain."

He had married his high school sweetheart.  He was the lead in every school play and she had been the cheerleader who was in most of the productions at school because she was crazy pretty.  No surprise, she was all looks, and the typical blonde.

"Congrats!" she said, and she meant it.  "Can I get a glass of white wine?"

"Low end or high end?"  He asked leaning closer to her.  He propped himself up on an elbow and she got a distinct whiff of his after shave.

She smiled at him and let a sigh escape her.  "The house wine is fine," she told him.

He nodded and moved around the bar effortlessly, coming back to her with a glass of white wine that was already dripping with cold perspiration.   "So, Hannah," he grinned.  "I have been meaning to ask you something."

She took the glass from him.  "What's that?"

"Will you save me a dance?"

She scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.  "I don't follow," she told him.

"Tonight, I want one dance with you."

"Why?"

He leaned back on the bar.  "Why?"  He acted hurt by the question.  "Cuz I'm a boy, and you’re a girl, and we're both single and free, unless you started something up with Ralph that I don't know about."

Ralph, being a good friend of hers, and gay.  He was drop dead gorgeous like all the unattainable ones.   "I've tried to convince him but he just won't take a swing on my team."

"So, why not?"   Eli asked her again.

She smiled, half way.  "Are you flirting with me?"  She was starting to get those silly little butterflies in her stomach that made her want to run and hide from social situations.

"It took you this long to notice?"  He grinned.  "I've been flirting with you for weeks now."

"You flirt with everyone!" She countered.

"Yeah, but," he looked around the mostly empty bar.  He leaned in even closer to her, and whispered. "That's just for tips, I mean it with you."

The butterflies doubled.  She was slightly confused, extremely interested, and moderately terrified.  She'd been out on a few dates since everything happened with Eloise, but nothing that lasted more than one or three very awkward dates.  She tried dating sites, and couldn't seem to find anyone who wasn't just trying to get in her pants, which had been completely off limits.  Her ex-husband and her had what she referred to as "grief sex" after losing Eloise, before they truly split up.  She had spent most of it crying.  It ended up being horrible and putting a bigger spike into the heart of their relationship.

"No, really?"  She said.  "You flirt shamelessly."

He laughed.  "I know, but really... I mean it with you.  I want to dance with you tonight.  Just say yes Hannah.  One dance."

"Okay, okay," she said giving in.  She shrugged.  "Okay."

He smiled from ear to ear, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks.  She shook her head and pivoted her stool so she could see the band as it started up on stage.  Her brother Max started swinging his drum sticks to the beat of whatever song they played.  She was proud of him.  No matter what their Dad had said to him about his choices in life, he continued to just do him.  Be exactly who he was and who he wanted to be.  He was going for his dreams and she was proud of him for that.

Hours went by, she ended up moving to a table and she seat danced some while sipping on a few more drinks that she had ordered through the waitresses.  She cheered and clapped for the band.  Completely forgetting that Eli had wanted a dance.

The patrons slowly weeded themselves out.  Cabs had been called.  Family had come to fetch some of the drunk ones.  She helped clear off tables and the band break down.  Last call was thrown out there.  The lights came up, and the last few stragglers were pushed out.  She was still helping some of the girls clean up the main room.

"Toilets are clean, Eli." Dotty said coming out with a scrub brush.  She had her red hair pulled back in a tight pony tail tonight.

"Thanks Dot," he called back.  She went up to the bar with a few glasses and when she turned to leave, he put his hands on hers.  "Wait." She turned to face him, looking at him questioningly.  "I still want that dance."

"But the bar is closing Eli," she reminded him.

"That's fine, just stick around."   So she nodded and went back to fetching some more empty glasses.

Within a half hour it was only Eli and her in the bar.  The waitresses had all counted out their tips, let mostly together, laughing.  Talking about going to the all night diner and wondering if Eli was coming.  He told them, "maybe next time," and locked up behind them.  He grabbed the broom and leaned it up against the bar and walked over to the jukebox.  Sliding his hand in his pocket he pulled out a couple of quarters and dropped them in.  After pushing a couple buttons he walked over to her and held out his hand for her to take.

"Eli, really?"

He smiled.  "Really, come on Hannah Banana."

Oh she hated that.  She rolled her eyes because he was the only one who had gotten away with calling her that all through high school.  "Don't call me that," she whispered putting her hand in his and letting him pull her to him, where he pressed against her, tight.  Putting one hand against the small of her back and the other just above it.

The song came on and she instantly recognized it as one of the songs they had danced to at the first dance they attended together.  She had joked it was "their song" back then.  They actually went to a lot of dances together.  He took her to prom one year, just as a friend.  But anytime they were at a dance together, didn't matter if they had come together, with a group of friends, or with other people, anytime the song came on, he would always seek her out and pull her into a dance.

"You know I have always had this crush on you," he said as they started to sway back and forth to the ballad, barely shuffling their feet.  "Remember in Earth Science I sat right behind you?"

"Yeah, I remember, Mr. Orsaw kept making comments on how you'd give me goggly eyes, but I never took him seriously."

"You should have, it was true.  The smell of your hair drove my hormones crazy."

She leaned back a little so she could look at him, to tell if he was really serious.  "You are the one who broke up with me, need I remind you?"

"Stupid teenage mistake," he countered.  "We both dated around after that, it always seemed like if I was single, you were dating someone, and the other way around."

"Yeah, but, I always just thought we were friends."

"We were friends," he looked down at her.  He was over six foot and she was just a little thing at five feet five inches.  He was always looking down at her.  Well, unless he was sitting and she was standing.  "But I thought you just put me in the friend zone and that was that."

"You married Gia," she told him.

"You married Hank, and you were engaged before me."

She laughed.  Shook her head.  "We were just teenagers."

He nodded in agreement.  "That we were, but, we're not anymore.  We're both finally single at the same time.  And I want to ..." he trailed off.  She wasn't looking at him, so when she looked up at him to see why he stopped, he grabbed her hand, spun her around, tilted her back and pressed his lips hard against hers.

Suddenly there was electricity zinging from her head to her toes and doing funny little things to those butterflies residing her her stomach.  She opened her mouth slightly, letting out a little moan, and he took the opportunity to dive into her mouth with fierce heat.  She couldn't help but to meet his pace, kissing him back with just as much as he was giving.

When she was upright again, she was extremely light headed.  She actually ended up leaning into his chest as they started to sway again.  "Hot damn," he finally muttered after a moment of catching his breath.

"Tell me about it," she muttered.

"I remember we had sparks, but I didn't realize we had an inferno."

What was she getting herself into?  She took a deep breath, smelling that smell that was just him. Always was him.  He hadn't changed his cologne or after shave since high school.  She was always drawn into his smell.  He was the only one she had ever reacted to like that.  He always had a crush on her, she had always had an unspoken crush on him.

"Remember when we did Romeo and Juliet in the school play?"

"How can I forget?  That's what started our little relationship."

"First play we did, freshman year.  I had so much trouble memorizing my lines and constantly cussed out Shakespeare."

"Who doesn't cuss out Shakespeare?"

"That first time we kissed during rehearsal, it was so awkward with Mrs. Jaspin watching and half the student body."

"It wasn't half," she laughed.  "It wasn't even half the cast!"

"But it was our first kiss and it was awkward."

"Our first kiss after we started dating wasn't." She remembered.  "Until you tried to choke me with your tongue that one time."

"You said tonsil hockey, I took you seriously."

She laughed, as he did, at the memory.  They stopped swaying as the music ended.  She looked up at him, and felt things she hadn't in a long long time.  Things that scared her.  She didn't want to be some re-bound.  She didn't want him to be some re-bound.  He spun her one more time, and then let go of his embrace on her.

She smiled at him.  "That was nice," she said.  Nice?  Nice?  That's all you can think to say is nice?  But then again, she felt like she couldn't, shouldn't, encourage this.  She was twenty five years old.  Divorced.  He was divorced.  Just divorced.  "I should go home," she told him.  She glanced back, seeing him stuff his hands in his pockets.  He looked a little disappointed.  "It's almost three in the morning," she reminded him.  "I have this huge photo shoot around 1," she muttered, basically rambling a bit.  "How about we get some lunch, or dinner together.  We can talk." She offered.

He looked up, didn't look so disappointed anymore.  "I'd like that," he said.  He was closing the distance between them.  She knew what was going to happen next.   She turned to grab her coat off the stool she had put it on.  He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.  His lips crashed so hard against hers she was sure they would be bruised in the morning.  Oh wait, it was morning, she reminded herself.  Then, her mind when utterly blank because the only thing her brain was even responding to was the sparks of heat flying everywhere.

When he stepped back a minute, she knew she was going to have to fly out the door.  Fly out the door and not look back or it would keep happening.  At the door, at the car, on the hood......

She shook her head.  "Goodnight Eli," she managed a horse whisper.  "Stay there," she warned.  "We are likely to implode."

She went up the door, fumbled forgetting it was locked for a moment.  When Eli started to take a step towards her, she held up her finger and made a short sound telling him to stop.  He did, stop that is.  She managed to unlock it.  "Call me tomorrow," she whispered before opening the door to the cold harsh wind.   She let it go after she walked through it, and all but jogged to her car.

She couldn't wait to get inside, to safety.  To warmth, in about five minutes anyway.  To at least get out of the wind.  Get out of the bar.  Get some distance between her and the man who was making her hormones dance around like a pubescent teenager.  She got in, closed the door quickly and started her car.  It roared to life as she looked back.  Seeing him silhouette the doorway, watching her, watch him.

She threw the car into reverse, backed up a bit, and then into drive.  She drove home numb.  She couldn't even form a rational thought.  How could she?  He turned her brain to mush.  She was surprised she made it home in once piece.

She jumped out of her car, after putting it in park and turning it off.  She practically ran to her door, fumbled getting the front door unlocked, and when she did she flew inside, locking it quickly behind her, as if he was going to burst through the door.   Her back to the door, she just sort of slide down it until she was sitting on the cold tile floor with the rug all messed up under her.

The cat slowly walked towards her with her little bell ring-a-ding-dinging and her tail standing straight up like she's some royal animal prissy pants.  She stopped right beside her and started to purr.

She gave the cat the eyes.  "Don't judge me," she muttered.  Pushing herself up, she ditched her coat on the floor, kicked off her shoes, and she walked up the stairs, into her room, and fell into bed.  She didn't even bother getting undressed, she just plopped belly down on her bed, cockeyed ... and was sound asleep in two minutes, with the cat on her back - kneading and purring.

Goal for the next 30 Days....

I have been making it a point to write in my main blog since the beginning of the year, and so far - so good.  Actually - it's the most I've written in ANY year since starting my blog.  I have more entries for this year than any other year, and it's only April.  

But - that's just life writing.  Recording my days, feelings, etc and so on.  Truly - very boring crap.  

So ..... for the next 30 days ..... today (April 13th) to May 13th (funny, Nathan's due date anniversary) .... I am going to be making it a point to doing short little bursts of writing in here with writing prompts .... OR .... and.... working on finishing my book.  I want it finished.  NEED it finished.  

(re-worked)

Prologue

            The house was dark and dingy.  It was kept tidy but the walls were dark, no longer bright and vibrant like they were when she was little. They didn't have much stuff, anyway, to keep clean. The carpets were worn down from foot traffic, with stains here and there.  The windows had layers of filth on them, blocking out the sun some.  She slowly stepped down the stairs, being sure not to step on any of the sweet spots that would alert her father or brother she was coming down the stairs.  She knew they were up to something.  Something bad.  Not that they ever did something good.  They claimed she was the bad one.  The dirty whore.  The unwanted bitch.  Anything that they could throw from their tongue that they thought would hurt her.  It never did, though.  She was used to it. 

            As careful as she was being, she hit a squeaky board.  Stopping, she frozen in the position she was in, and held her breath, waited, and listened to see if she had alerted them.

When she was little, she dreaded leaving her school.  Most kids couldn't wait for that three o’clock bell to ring.  She hated it.  Life at home, it wasn't easy.  Her father was a drunk and her mother was weak, all she did was do whatever her father told her to do.   At the age of six, she learned what a blow job was because her father told her mother to do it in front of her.  He hadn't cared, nor had the woman who was supposed to be a mother to her. 

            She spent years locked up in her room, with the lock on the hallway side of the door.  Trapped.  She had a mattress on the floor, some toys her grandparents had given her.  A few books, which she had read over and over again.  She liked getting lost in the worlds of Little Women and The Secret Garden.  Her grandmother on her mom’s side had sent her the Anne of Green Gables series, and those were her favorite books.  Especially since she could identify with Anne. 

            In grade school she was expected home immediately.  When she got home, she would get shoved into her room and pushed down.  The door would slam shut behind her and the echo of the metallic click of the lock would echo through the room. They would bring her a plate to eat at some point, usually it was cold. 

In middle school, she was allowed to join after school programs or sports, her parents didn’t want to draw attention to their family, they felt if she was active after school she would appear more normal.  So she joined the Track team and Photography Club.   That allowed her to be home a lot less, so she took every opportunity not to be home.  It was then that the beatings started.  He’d hit her … places people were less likely to see, and he enjoyed it.  He loved it. 

            Her brother was treated completely different.  He was only a year older than she was, but he was treated like the prodigal prince.  He did anything their father said, and was twisted like he was.

            In high school she continued with both clubs.  They no longer locked her in her room because she didn’t leave her room, she preferred to be as far away from her family as she could.  At school she noticed her brother was constantly watching her.  Then one night her door opened, and he came in.  He had just taken a shower and was only in a towel.  Her gut twisted inside her, as if to warn her she’d never be the same.  He let the towel drop.  When she screamed, she thought she could hear her father laughing from the hallway.  He had come to her all through her freshman year.  Then it stopped when he got a girlfriend.  She knew that he abused the girlfriend, and she knew it was bad that she was thankful his attention was off her. 

            During her sophomore year, her mother disappeared.  One weekend there was an out of town track meet and she had been allowed to stay with a friend, she had come home and been told her mother ran away.  Several months later, her brother’s girlfriend disappeared.  The police kept showing up, dragging her father and brother down to the police station to question them.

            Then she noticed there was more and more woman going missing around town, her Dad and brother were spending less time at home and when they were home they were usually in the basement.   In her gut, she knew.  But she had to be sure. 

            It didn't seem like the squeak had gotten their attention.  She wasn't sure where they were.  So she knew she had to be sneaky. 

            She allowed herself to breathe again and continued down the stairs.  She tip toed through the living room and into the kitchen.  That’s when she heard them coming up the stairs from the basement, talking.  She hit in the little nitch the pantry in the kitchen made.  A tiny box the walls made.

            “What are you going to do about her?”  It was her brother’s husky voice.  You could hear the anger dripping from every word.  Anything coming out of his mouth had rage dripping from it. 

            “Well, we do what we do with them all.”  Her dad growled.  Neither of them knew how to talk.  They both sounded completely uneducated. 

            “What about the parasite upstairs?  When are we going to take care of her?”

            “Soon,” her father said as they opened the back door.  “Can’t do it too soon, they’ll look at us cuz of your mother and Vicky.”  Her heart dropped.  This confirmed it for her.  They had been involved with the disappearance of her mom and her brother’s girlfriend. 

            “I want to do her,” her brother said, she could almost see the disgusting smile spread across his face with the thought, like the Joker in Batman.  “I want to watch her bleed while I am inside her.”

            Her dad laughed and the back door shut.  She soon heard the roar of the run down, beat up car they had.  They were leaving. 

            She sighed, in relief.  She moved quickly through the small kitchen, through the mess they had created, making her way to the basement steps which were by the back door. She expected they would soon go to her room, drag her down by her hair, as they had done before, and demanded she clean up after them.  She wasn't allowed to eat with them, she got scraps when they were done, if she was lucky.  There were days she didn't eat at all.

            She went down the stairs and saw they had added a lock to the door.  She panicked for a moment.  Then looked around.  On the window sill was a key.  She grabbed it and prayed it opened it.  When the lock clicked, she took a deep breath and opened the door. 

            The smell is what she was met with first.  It was horrible, and she had grabbed the top of her shirt, and covered her mouth and nose with it.  Then she flipped on the light, and saw blood.  So much blood.  There was a woman in a cage, tied up and gagged, she didn’t respond to the light.  Her eyes stayed shut and she was slumped over in the corner of the cage. 

            She almost vomited.  So many thoughts rushed through her head.  She knew … she knew what she had to do.  She shut off the light, shut the door and put the lock back on.  She ran up the stairs and practically jumped on the kitchen counters, causing dishes to clang to the floor, to find the coffee can her mom use to hide money in, hoping and praying it was still there.  She reached up and patted the top of the cupboards around, because she couldn't see, praying she’d find the metal can.  When her finger tips touched it, she struggled to get a grasp on it.  When she did, she grabbed the can, pulling it out as quickly as she could.  She paused long enough to pull the plastic cover up to see if there was money in there, and when she saw there was, she closed it and ran through the house and up the stairs.  She grabbed her backpack, throwing a few things in there, threw the can in there.  She turned the radio on that they allowed her to have, and stuffed anything she could find under her blanket on the mattress making it look like she was laying under the covers.  She looked around her room.  One last time.  When her eyes rested on the blue teddy bear her grandmother had sent her, the last thing she had ever gotten from her, she grabbed it and opened the bag one last time and closed it again. 

            Her heart was racing so hard she thought it was going to jump out of her chest.  She turned off the light, slammed her bedroom door and ran out of the house.  She didn't know what she was going to do, but she knew she had to do something.  She had to … she could hear the car coming down the street.  She ducked into a bush and watched them pull into the driveway and to the back of the house.  She stayed there until she knew they had gone in.

            She had to save herself.  She had to try to save that woman if she wasn't already dead.  

            It was only then that she ran.  She ran like her life depended on it, because it did.  She ran to her friend’s house where she broke down crying, sobbing, and telling her frightened parents everything.  Every dirty rotten secret she held in her heart.  Everything she saw.  Everything she knew in her bones.  Her father and brother were murderers.  They killed her mother, and all the women on the news.  She knew it. 

           

McCrady Manor: Blood Curse - Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

          Meghan walked through the curtain of white and blue beads into the small room.  She saw an older woman sitting on the other side of a small round table.  The table was covered with a soft blue cloth with moons and stars stitched with silver thread.  A large crystal ball sat in the middle of the table on a silver stand.  "Come on in and sit down."  The woman spoke so softly, with a trace of an irish lilt.  She instantly made Meghan feel comfortable, and welcome. 

          She walked towards the table that sat in the middle of the room.  "My child, you are awful young.  Why are you here?"  She asked as Meghan sat down in the chair across for her.

          Meghan slowly took a deep breath.  She caught the fragrance filled air and let it out just as slow as she took it in.  It smelled of vanillia with hints of citrus.  "I want to make sure that you are who you claim to be.  That you are for real."  Meghan told her honestly.  She looked around the room at the shelves of candles and crystals.  Rock gardens and mini running waterfalls.  Artwork of various mystical things, ranging from the zodiac to, legendary creatures, to a framed picture that caught her attention.   It was a picture of the an accident sight, around it you can see this haze swirling, but not through the whole picture.  It seemed to linger right around the crushed car.   You could almost distinctly make out the form of an angel, from wings to eyes.  She shook her head and rubbed her eyes.   It couldn't be.

          "Yes, that is real.  I had a gentlemen come in one day, and he was rather distraught."  She explained.  "I had warned him to be careful in cars, but he didn't really believe me, but he wondered.  I could tell.   He was one that wanted quick answers, he was still so heartbroken.  He came back to me, two months later.  He handed me this picture," she smiled lifting it from the shelf that sat near her. "He told me I had been right," she whispered softly.  "See, the accident almost killed him, but I had told him that his wife would be there with him.  She would see to it he would be alright, if only he took great care.  His wife had died a few years before from a serious form of cancer, leaving him to be the only provider for thier three children.  He handed me the picture, told me I was right, then broke into tears thanking me.  Said if I hadn't warned him, planted that in his head, he thought he would seriously not be here on this earth.  He says he is a better man today, for him, and his children.  She opened up the back of the picture, pulled out a small wallet size picture of a family.  A man, woman, two boys and little girl.   "This is his family, his wife," she said, putting the picture next to the angel.   You could see the resemblance in the face of the angel, and the women in the family photo.  "A reporter had snapped the picture while the mans was still in the car.  She was lingering there.  He said she was talking to him."  She put the family picture back in the frame, and closed it.  Then put it safetly back on the shelf. 

          "Wow," was all Meghan could manage.

          She looked back at Meghan.  Her small emerald green eyes seemed to look right into her soul.  "I understand your hesitance," she spoke gently.  Her silver hair falling over her shoulders, with the top half pulled up in some sort of knot.  "Alright then, we'll get started."  She looked deep into Meghan's large grayish violet eyes.  Eyes that change color with the young girl's mood.  "Don't tell me anything.  Not your name, nor birthday.  I shall figure out all I can.  All that you will allow the Old Crystell to see..to feel...and to hear.  All I need you to do is let me know if I am right or wrong.  A simple yes or no will do fine."  The woman explained.  She played with some rocks, in a rock garden quickly, then reached out and put her small hand in the middle of the round table.  "May I have your hands, please?"  The woman asked.  Meghan put her hands in the woman's and watched as the woman lowered her head and closed her eyes.  "First, I see twenty-one....no, twenty candles.  You are twenty years old, correct?"

          "Yes," Meghan simply answered.

          "Alright now....I am picking up two sets of initials, no three...which is very phenomenal.  K.L.M. is the strongest of the three sets.  Are those your initials?"  She quizzed.

          "No," Meghan whispered with an uncertain expression upon her face.

          "How about M.A.Q. which are the second most intense of them."

          Her heart stopped.  "Yes," she responded astounded.

          "The third set is M.A.K.L.M. which I have the feeling are a combination of the two sets and is yet to come.  But does it mean anything to you at the moment?"  The woman asked.  Meghan shook her head.  "It seems as if the first was past and the second current.  So I will focus on the second set of letters.  Your name is..........Megas ....no,it is Meghan, right?"

          "Yes," Meghan slurred the word.  From that she was practically convinced that this woman could be the real thing.

          "You come here to Independence in the end of March to work on a house... a big house...or some sizable land.  Is that true?"

          "Yes, both."

          The woman paused for a moment before she continued speaking.  "You met a man with two faces.  That means that either he has a good and evil side or he is a twin.  I feel firmer about the twin.  Is he a twin?"

          "Yes," Meghan could feel her eyes growing larger with every true statement she made.

          "This man, the younger one, his name starts with a 'C'.  Am I correct?"  She watched as Meghan's head nodded.  "Well," she paused.  "I feel something awful has happened to you by this Mr. C."  The woman paused.  "He left you?"

          Meghan thought for a moment.  "You could fairly say that, I guess."

          "I feel him the night he left.  He physically said good-bye.  Maybe a hug...stronger....kiss....no....making love.  The feeling is yet stronger...and there is resentment on your behalf."  Suddenly the woman's eyes shot open for the first time since she had closed them when they begun.  "He raped you!"  She announced just like that.  Plain as day.  Outloud.  All Meghan could do was nod as her blood ran cold.  "I am sorry."  The woman quietly spoke.  "I am so sorry."  She paused as a single tear ran it's path down Meghan's cheek until she wiped it away with the back of her hand.  "Would you like me to continue?"   Meghan nodded again.  She didn't want to speak until the cold went away.  "Alright," she whispered as she re-closed her eyes.  "Mr. C left you over a few months ago.  I see a three.  It was three months ago be exact, correct?"

          "Yes."  She somehow managed.

          "I see white roses.  That means either there are births or weddings or both are in your near future.  Yes, both, I believe.  Before and after New Year's.  I see Raven birds close by.  So near you.  There are two, circling over your heart and soul.  Two people very close to you have died. Oh wait, there are two more Ravens flying in the distance, watching over you."  The woman took a deep breath.  "I see a stork carrying a pink bundle."  The woman opened her eyes for the second time.  "You are carrying his baby, aren't you?"  Meghan just nodded some more.  The cold was still there. The woman went back to her previous state and continued.  "I see two girls.  They are almost identical to yourself.  Though I get a strong feeling from these girls that I can not pin point.  It's as if there is more to your friendship then has been told."  The woman paused for a moment or two.  "I see three connected pink roses and one red.  You have two sisters and a brother.  The red one is larger than the other three.  You have an older brother and two sisters close in age to you."

          "No, because I am an only child."  Meghan corrected.

          The woman opened her eyes again and met Meghan's curious gaze.  "I see three connected pink rose and one red.  That is a sure indication that you have two sisters and a brother."  The woman thought for a moment.  "The only explanation is that you  were adopted.  That would explain the first set of initials, also."     

          "I am adopted."  Meghan said slowly.  It wasn't the first time she had said it, but the words seemed harder to get out.  "I didn't find out until last year before my father died.  My mother died a few years before him.  Dad told me that my parents were dead so I haven't done much about it.  I've lived in a small town about thirty-seven miles from here, with my father's sister and brother-in-law."  Meghan explained almost choking on the words.

          "I see.  Then that explains it."  She smiled to try and cheer her young believer up.  "You are one of four children.  The first set of initials is your birth name."  The woman shifted her position on her chair slightly and continued.  "Would you like me to tell you about your future now?"  The woman was looking at Meghan's palms.

          "Yes."  Then she quickly changed her mind.  Then quickly changed it again before she said it..

          The woman turned to Meghan's hand looking at different areas of it.  "You have a decent life.  Nothing too remarkable I am sorry to say.  Unless you consider fighting evil remarkable," she woman said with a sly smile, opening her lids.   Meghan narrowed her eyes at her, and she met Meghan's gaze with her own.  She laughed.  "You'll understand sooner then you think," she smiled.  She closed her eyes again.  "You are married once.  The man loves you dearly and like no other.  You grow to trust him although it does take you some time.  Your already existing love grows.  You never divorce although you do have problems, no marriage is perfect.  You always work things through, though.  You become pregnant six times and have eleven children.  Some of which have tragic times.  I see the possibility of at least one young fatality, but there could be more.  Be wise with your children."

          "Can you tell me who I am going to marry?"  Meghan interrupted.

          The woman closed her eyes.  "I see the other half of the same face."  She paused.  "The letter 'M' becomes very apparent to me."   She took a deep breath.  "The other twin."  She told Meghan as she lifted her eyes to watch the girls reaction.  A small smile turned the corners of her mouth.  "Now, dear, will you tell me why you have come?"

          "Yes,"  Meghan answered.  "I've been having some very weird dreams."

          "How so?"  The older woman questioned.

          "Well, since I've been pregnant I guess that I haven't been sleeping  as deep as I use to.   Maybe I've been sleeping deeper than I use to.  I just don't know.  Anyway, I have been having these dreams about myself....at least I think that it is suppose to be me.  The woman is pregnant in my dreams sometimes.  Other times she's not.  It seems the range of her age, in my dreams, are as young seventeen up to the age of thirty when she's looking up at this monument of her triplet daughters.  It seems that they died but I'm not sure."  Meghan told the older woman.  "It can't be me," she whispered.

          "Do you believe in past lives?"  The woman asked.  "Reincarnation?"

          "I.....I don't know."  Meghan laughed.  "I didn't exactly believe in people being able to tell your past or future until now."

          "There is a possibility of past lives.  At least I believe in them.  I believe in a lot that most don't."  The woman smiled.  She looked about the age of sixty.  There were very few wrinkles on her oval face.  She looked good for her age.  "You could be dreaming of one of your past lives.  Maybe you are drawn to the land because of this."

          "I did feel drawn to the land."  Meghan threw in.  She had totally forgotten about the strong feeling she had had the day that she met Nathaniel McCrady VIII.  The day that she had her interview.  It was something deep and strong in her gut.  She felt as if she were scared.  Yet, she thought that if they told her she didn't get the job she would surely have to beg.

          The woman nodded.  "On the other hand, you could be channeling into someone else's life.  Some poor soul, that has past on, yet, is not resting peacefully.  Do you understand?"

          Meghan nodded. "Yes, but why?"  She asked.

          "No one knows why things like this happen.  You have to study this persons life in order to find out.  Maybe it is as simple as they were murdered and want some sort of justice for their murderer  Maybe the killer already died but they want someone to understand and know what happened.  Maybe they have things that they didn't accomplish and need somebody on this side to finish it for them."  She started nodding.  "Maybe I could help you out.  Why don't you tell me about one of your dreams?  Will you do that?"

          "Yes, but there are so many."  Meghan told her.

          "Did you have one last night or today?"

          "Yes."

          "Tell me about that one,"  the woman said.

          "Alright,"  Meghan took a deep breath.  She remembered the beginning of the dream and tried to explain it as best she could.  "A woman stands in a tower window.  It's almost exactly like the one in the house where I work.  The east tower bedroom in McCrady Manor.  She is looking out at the front yard...at the fountain and the stone lions.  I can't see through her eyes, but I know what is out there because I have looked through the windows many times myself.  The lady is beautiful.  She has long dark brown hair that reaches her waist in spiral curls.  She has big brilliant blue eyes that are so full of happiness.  She has a round face, like mine, and a long slender nose, but she has full cherry red lips.  It's possible that she's wearing lipstick.

          "She walks out of the tower into the main portion of the bedroom.  Then over  to the perfectly made bed that sits in the middle of the room.  Her face seems to be glowing and full of emotions.   Her stomach is big though, and full of life.  She's pregnant.  She sits down on the bed.  The white lace Afghan that lay on top of the bed wrinkles under the her weight.  Then suddenly she grabs her stomach as if she's in pain.  A loud long agonizing scream passes through her lips.  Somewhere else in the house, someone else is doing the same."

          "Wow," the woman whispered thinking for a moment.  "I believe that is someone else trying to tell you something."  There was a pause.  "I am thinking that this woman is from this home that you work in.  I'd like to visit this house if you'd not mind.  Then maybe I can tell you more."  The woman explained.  "Is that possible?"

          "Yes, of course.  But I cannot guarantying that you won't have to pay."  Meghan told her with a little trace of  laughter in her voice.

          "No, that's fine.  I don't want to get you in any sort of trouble with your boss."  She said.  "I am very intrigued by you and all of this goings on.  A young girl so troubled."  She smiled.  "My name is Crystell Tear," she said offering a hand.   "Would you be willing to do one more thing?"

          "Ah," Meghan paushed.  "Sure, I guess."

          Crystell got up and disappeared behind a dark curtain that covered a doorway.  She hear some water and some humming.  Smiling to herself Meghan reached over and touched the crystal ball lightly.   She felt the cool glass under her finger tips and this, almost, an electric current.  She pulled her fingers away quickly as the woman walked back into the room.  "I would like for you to do me one last thing," she smiled setting the white cup on the table infront of Meghan.  She looked down and saw that there was grains mixed in with the water.   "It's called Tasseography," she smiled.  "Or in more common terms, I'd like to read your tea leaves.  My grandmother use to do this, when we were in Ireland, and it's something she taught me before she passed.  I just need you to stir it, let it settle and run the water out, leaving the tea leaves."  Meghan stirred as she was instructed, waited for them to settle a little, then slowly poured the water out in the bowl Crystell had put on the table.   Inside there were grains left all over the sides and bottom of the cup.   The woman reached for the cup, and Meghan handed it over.   "Good, good," she whispered.   Turning the cup this way and that way, looking and making small noises in her throat.  "I see a bell here," she said pointing to it on the side of the cup.  "That is a sign of unexpected news, since it is near the top it is good news."  She turned and pointed to another.  "Here is a book, it's about half way open, do you see?"  Meghan nodded, surprised by the pictures she pointed out.  "There is something you need to investigate," she told the young girl.   "And here is a chain," she said almost running her finger the length of it across the cup.  "Means engagement and a wedding," she smiled.   "There is a heart here," she said pointing to the large heart covering almost half of one side of the cup.  "Means pleasure, love and trust.  And here, here is the one that concernes me."  She pointed to a large picture of a knife.  "A dagger, that is danger, so beware."   She smiled.   "What do you think?"

          "Wow," was all Meghan could really manage.  She was in shock, and awe.  Amazed at how a lot of what she seemed to say had made complete sense. 

          "I'll be over sometime this week, if that is alright," she said.

          "Yes, that would be fine.  Thank you very much."  Meghan whispered before she rose to leave.  "Oh, how much do I owe you?"

          "On the house," Crystell winked.  "Next time you can pay for my services, this time, my gift."

          Meghan picked up a little pink outfit from the rack.  From what Crystell had told her she know that it was a little baby girl that she was protecting inside of her.  "A stork carrying a little pink bundle."  She repeated in a whisper.  She looked up and glanced around the baby store.  "I need to get so much stuff."  She muttered looking around the store at the cribs, changing tables, clothes, bibs, bottles, diapers, food, and everything else.

          Then she spotted Paige McCrady in the store.  She was Nate's  wife.  His parents died when he was 11 years old.  His Great Aunt Ashley raised him until she had died a little over a year ago.  He spoke of his Aunt with such fondness that Meghan almost wished she had met her.

          Paige stood looking at the boy clothes for her son, Austin.  Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail.  Meghan walked over to her.  "Hello, Paige."

          "Meghan!  Hi!"  She shouted hugging her friend.  "What are you doing here?"  She asked.

          "Oh, just looking.  How about you?"

          Paige smile, then looked down at her rounding stomach and laughed.  "I'm picking up a few new things for this one, and some new clothes for Austin. He is growing so fast.  You have to come over and see him soon."

          "I will."  Meghan smiled.  "Congratulations, you hadn't told us this."

          "Thanks, we didn't find out until a few weeks ago ourselves.  I am so excited."  Paige beamed.

          "How far along are you?"  Meghan asked curious on how far apart they were.

          Paige answered with a large smile across her face.  "With everything going on I didn't even realize that I was even late."  She laughed.  "I found out 3 weeks ago and feel so bad about being so far along with no pre-natal care.  They think that I am about four and a half months."

          "Really?"   Meghan asked.  "We are about a month and a half apart."

          "Huh?"  Paige stammered confused.  "Are you pregnant?"

          Meghan's head fell. She hadn't ment to say it outloud, just to herself.  "Yes," she whispered.  "I just found out too."

          Paige pulled her aside, away from all the other busy shoppers.  "You don't sound happy."  She commented.  "What's wrong?"

          "A lot has happened the past day."  She forced a smile.  "I found out that I'm pregnant...3 months along...and Macen proposed to me."

          "You and Macen?"  Paige asked a little shocked, but more happy.  "I had no clue."  She smiled reaching out and pulling Meghan into an embrace.  "Congrats Meg!"  Meghan wondered how the rest of her friends would react.  "I really had no clue."  Paige repeated.

          "Well,"  Meghan said on the edge of laughter.  "Feel privileged.  You are the first to know."  She remarked.

          "Leigha doesn't know?"  Paige questioned knowing how close the two girls were.

          "Nope."

          "She is going to kill you!"  Paige laughed.  "Or at least freak out.  So will Kellie and the rest of them."  Paige lifted up one of the outfits she held in her hand.  "Do you think that this will fit that big chunk that I have?"

          Meghan walked up to Macen's cabin door.  "Macen?"  She called out as she opened the door.

          "Just a second!"  He called out blocking the door.  "Wait outside for a minute."

          She stepped back.  She held the note she had found taped to her cabin door in her hand.  She opened it back up and read it agian.

Meggie,

Meet me at my cabin.

I have a surprise for you.

The one and only man in your life.

 So she had walked right over.

          He popped his head out but continued to hide behind the door.  "Alright,"  he whispered.  "Close your eyes."  She complied.  She heard the door open more.  Then she felt his hand cover her eyes as he moved behind her and placed his other hand on the small of her back.  "Step up," he told her gently.

          She did. 

          The door shut behind them as they walked in, Macen gently guiding her.  She could smell scented candles.  "I smell smoke."  She said.

          "Don't worry about it."  He laughed leading her to the middle of his living room.  "Sit."  He demanded.

          "Yes sir!"  She laughed as she sat in the chair.  "You got a new chair,"  she whispered feeling the cushion and a wooded back of the chair and how comfortable it was compared to regular back chairs he had.  He uncovered her eyes and told her to open them.  She did.  It took a minute for her eyes to re-focus.

          The room was pitch black except for the soft glow from the candles he had placed on the small table he had set up in the middle of his living room.  Two empty clear plates and two clear bowls with salads in them sat on each side of the table.  Twelve roses sat in a small crystal vase in the middle of the table.  Three roses of four different colors.  The whole set up was beautiful.  She looked over to Macen who was in a tuxedo and on his knee right next to her.

          "I wanted to properly ask you to be my wife."  He opened the small red velvet square box that he held in his hand.  "Will you spend the rest of your life with me Meghan?"  He asked as he revealed the half carat diamond ring.

          She gasped, and forgot to breath until she looked into his eyes.   She let it out slowly.  "Yes," she whispered after she gained her ability to speak.  "Oh, Macen!"  She shrieked.  "Yes, I will!"