Prologue
All around her stood tall and lissome trees with high spread branches. The quiet rustle of leaves filled the air, stirred by a cool wind that began to sweep near. The flowing air sent a chill through her still damp clothes, the fabric clinging to her skin and of no protection. She folded her arms to her chest for a little warmth and slowly continued to walk along. The sun slanted through the canopy overhead and cast her shadow upon the ground, which she noticed out of the corner of her eye. It momentarily startled her, but even as she realized what it was, it added to her uneasiness and confusion.
Her nerves were on the utmost edge, her footsteps halted and awkward as the throbbing and pain increased in the marks upon her legs and head. Her still cold skin suddenly tingled and in anxiety she completely turned to look behind her. Nothing was there, and she sighed a bit in relief. She began to take note that her shadow was still upon her side, when unexpectedly another shadow fell across it. Instantly she felt a sharp metal point pressed to her back.
"Do not move."
"The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown."
-William Cowper
Chapter One: Autumn Fields
"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean.
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more."
(-Alfred Tennyson Tennyson)
-Missouri: July 10th
Many years had seasoned the land; the weariness of generations had veiled it in stillness. The occasional wind dared to ruffle the fading forest leaves or some shutter of the house that stood there. These sounds would be single echoes through the silent air, only a slight disturbance to this farm that was steadfast in time and tradition. The quaint farmhouse and broad stable were the only buildings that bore signs of usage on Creek Halls Farm. Once fertile patches of crops were overgrown, only the well tended pastures held green life.
Off in the distance of one field the faint rhythm of hooves could be heard daily. On this day beneath the dimming summer sun, the sound of voices was heard upon the air as well. In one of the green fields, a sorrel mare stood complacently watching two women talk in front of her.
"I can reassure you again, Mrs. Whit, that Morna is an agile but gentle horse, even at her age," said Eva Lynch, the younger woman of the two. She inwardly restrained a sigh as she pat the horse on the neck and tucked a loose strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. The older woman's critical gaze turned from the horse and locked onto her, a distant and judging glint in her eyes. Eva smiled slowly and encouragingly as her anxiety grew, trying hard not to fidget even though she was twenty three years old. Mrs. Whit suddenly nodded her head and startled her.
"Okay I'll take her. I'll send someone over for her in an hour."
After a quick exchange of words and money, Eva was left alone. She could not help but just stand there, staring at the mare.
"Well girl, you're going to a new home," she said softly.
The horse only gave her a brief glance before leaning down and beginning to chomp down the green grass. Eva folded her arms and lifted her head to the sky in thought, but halted upon seeing the dark clouds that had moved in and started to block the sun.
She refocused on the mare and muttered, "I better get you inside, Uncle John would kill me if you got sick." Picking up the lead line from the ground, she clipped it on the horse's halter, using a gentle tug to get her moving. They went through the gate and up a gravel littered path into the stable. Boot and hoof rung upon the floor and echoed throughout as they passed by many deserted stalls. Upon reaching a plaque with the name "Morna", she put the mare in and went over to the next pair of compartments.
She stuck her head in over the door and was greeted with the sight of a Quarter Horse gelding who stood bent over his water. While running her eyes over his blood bay coat, she reached into her pocket and held out a carrot.
"Here Blitz, I have a treat for you."
He raised his head, but then turned around completely without making a move toward the proffered food.
"Not hungry? Or just mad at me since I'm taking Morna away?" she asked sarcastically. Blitz remained motionless and in exasperation she left the carrot upon the door sill, waving her hand in the air. "You dork."
As she passed the next stall, she was met by a welcoming whinny and a piebald Welsh pony stuck his head out to her.
"Hey Basil," she said dejectedly, and briefly patted his nose before continuing to walk off.
Ordinarily, she would have stopped for a few minutes to pat and chatter to her old pony, who she had outgrown seven years ago. He had been replaced by Blitz, a then strapping three year old colt, but continued to be a friend and pet to Eva even as she got older. She felt like she had enough of the horses for the day. Having to sell the old mare had been hard. Even though it was her Uncle's horse; she was attached to Morna.
She soon reached the house, which exuded cheer from its white clapboards gleaming in the sun, to the bright beds of petunias that grew around the porch and walkway. The screen door slammed itself shut as she came in and entered the living room. Noticing the blinking light on the answering machine, she went to the table and hit the play button.
Immediately a rather piercing voice began speaking, sounding very impatient and droning. "Yes, Miss Lynch, this is Roger Rippert with Sincere Real Estate again. I want you to know that my generous offer still stands on your property and I wish to get in touch-"
"Not that idiot again," she said, seething. "How many times do I need to tell him that we don't need his money in the first place, and don't want it?"
Her finger jabbed the skip button and she went down the hall, expecting to listen to the messages as she got something to eat. In the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and put her head in, searching for a snack.
A kind but serious sounding person started over the speaker, "Hello this is St. Louis Medical Center calling about the test results for Mr. John Dale. We reg-"
Eva peeked down at her watch, almost panicking at seeing the time and became oblivious to the rest of the message.
"Oh darn, it's time for uncle's medication," she squeaked, and scurried over to the kitchen cabinet.
She snatched two prescription bottles and filled a glass of water in the sink. Returning down the hall, she stopped in front of a bedroom door and knocked.
"Uncle John, are you awake? It's time for your medication."
From inside came a raspy distant reply, "Oh, of course, come in."
She swung the door open and went in quietly, stopping beside a nightstand to put the glass and bottles down.
"I would have gotten up earlier, but I'm just so tired," he said, taking the glass and pills she handed him.
"It's alright," she said a little too quickly, and looked away.
"Eva," he said warningly, returning the glass to her.
She turned back to him and met his scolding gaze. It was hard for her to see him this way. His skin was pale and drawn; his grey hair was unruly and as she took the glass, felt that his hand was thin and cold. The brightness of the bed sheets contrasted sharply with his appearance, and made him seem faded.
"Don't take such care around me. As I have always said, you are like a daughter to me, and were to Margaret," he said.
"Uncle-"
"There is nothing you can do that will disturb me," he said, interrupting, and then suddenly smirked. "Forget what the damn doctor may have said! Nothing is going to stop me from joining my wife on the other side!"
"That's enough Uncle John!" Eva said seriously, a frown plastered on her face.
He raised an eyebrow at her and said, "Well one of us has to keep our sense of humor. I'm sick in bed most of the time, yet I can laugh more than you." Seeing his niece grimace, he changed the topic. "So what did you do today? Did you get the horse sold?"
"Yes," Eva said with a resolute nod. "She went to Mrs. Whit down the road."
"Is that your boyfriend Seth's mother?" he asked.
She quickly turned a dark shade of red and answered in protest, "He is not my boyfriend. I've been friends with him since-"
"You were twelve," Uncle John finished for her, smiling at the look of confusion that crossed his niece's face. "I'm just pulling your leg," he said, looking closer at Eva's downcast eyes. "I know it must've been hard today."
She nodded and said solemnly, "I know we couldn't keep Aunt Maggie's old horse. You were the only one who rode her since-"
"Your aunt died," he said. Slight annoyance flashed across Eva's face and he smiled. "I'm not going to stop interrupting you until you promise me you're going to go out and have some fun. Quit worrying about everything, you've expended yourself over my sake, and I'm not worth it."
Her mouth opened in protest, but she immediately shut it upon seeing the "don't argue with me" look that he gave her. Without another word, Eva got up and left.
A half hour later, she found herself sulking on the porch steps. Her head was bent toward her lap and she sat twiddling her bracelet with her fingers.
I wish he wouldn't be so depressing. I know he's sick. I wish I wasn't so depressing. But how can I go around and do other things, a smile plastered on my face, when I'm about to lose another person in my life?
The silver links continued to clink melodically as she ran her fingers over the engraved initials "EL" that were upon the pendant. It had been found by her aunt in an antique shop and given to her as an eighteenth birthday present. A week later her aunt had died of a heart attack in the field near the stream.
"Eva?"
She jumped in surprise, and looking up, saw her friend Seth Whit standing there. He was inspecting her with a worried expression on his face.
"Are you okay?" he asked, coming forward and taking a seat on the steps beside her.
"I'm fine," she said, turning to face him with a half hearted smile. His green eyes still held doubt, and feeling overly examined, she stared back at him. His light brown hair was on end, and his clothes were full of dirt and holes. "Never mind me, what're you doing here? And what in the world happened to you? Yuck, you smell horrible."
He cringed slightly and answered, "Don't remind me. My mom had me adding the cow manure to the compost heap. Then she pulled me out and sent me over here to get the horse she bought."
"Why did she buy Morna?" Eva asked interestedly.
"We're teaching Susie to ride and your mare is old and gentle enough for her. I tried to get the Hollingers to sell us the pony they are getting rid of. They refuse to have anything to do with us though, since we're friendly with your family."
"Psht the Hollingers," she said carelessly. "I thought your little sister was scared of horses?"
"I'm not really sure. But it could be from when a certain someone kept going on about her scary experiences with urban mounts?" he said, smiling at her mischievously.
"You're the one who insisted on messing with her head!" she argued, and swatted him in jest. Immediately, she withdrew her hand and moved away, making a face. "Okay you really need a bath!"
Laughing, Seth said, "Alright I promise I'll have one by the time I come back." Seeing her bewilderment, he added, "You are coming with Cara and I to the mall, no excuses! You've been stuck on the farm for two weeks."
"With good reason!" she snapped, and then seemed horrified with herself. "Sorry. Fine, I'll tag along. You're not the only one on my case about getting out for awhile. Now let's go get the mare and get you out of here before I change my mind."
Seth grinned and offered her a hand up and she led him in the direction of the stables.
.-.-.-.
It was ten o'clock at night when Seth's car pulled up on the gravel driveway in front of the Creek Halls farmhouse. Rain drummed heavily upon the roof of the car and Eva looked through the window in disdain.
"Better hurry or you'll get soaked," Seth said half-humorously.
"Or caked with mud," she said, smiling at him. "Cara sure loved that little story about you and the cow poop."
"Sure, you just had to make me look bad."
"I knew it!" Eva said teasingly. "It's so cute. I knew you had a thing for her."
"Yeah, and you're not going to say anything about it!"
"Or what?"
Seth ignored her and peered out the window in the direction of the fields. He turned back toward her, seeming worried. "Be careful, it's one of those dark nights…"
"What are you talking about?" Eva asked, then lifting an eyebrow as she thought about it. "You don't mean-"
"It's perfect setting for Elena Lock to pay a visit!" Seth said evilly, raising his hands and making a face. "They say a hundred years ago, heartbroken and insane, she threw herself into the waters near Creek Halls, bringing a dreadful curse upon those who dare disturb her!"
Eva snorted and shook her head. "Seth, you heard that when we were thirteen from Aunt Maggie. That was just a myth she brought up just so you wouldn't toilet paper our trees on Halloween!"
"Well it worked!"
"Good night, Seth," she said, rolling her eyes and getting out of the car.
She splashed through a puddle of mud and up the steps, waving at him over her shoulder. With a quick jangle of her keys the door opened and she went into the nice and dry house. Quickly, she took off her windbreaker and shoes, both were completely soaked from the downpour. She glimpsed at her watch and gasped as she saw the time. Automatically, she went to the hall and stalked to her Uncle's bedroom, silently opening the door. The hall light behind her threw dim light into the room, allowing her to see. To her relief the dinner tray she had left for him was completely eaten and sitting on a nearby table. The sound of snoring came from the bed.
"Night, Uncle John," she whispered, closing the door.
Trying to make as little noise as possible, she left the hall for the stairs and went up. Unfortunately the stairs creaked under her feet, making her wince at the racket that only stopped once she reached the top. Weary from her long day, she could not help hurrying to her room and half flinging the door open when her hand was upon the knob.
Fumbling around, she attempted to locate her lamp and in the process, bumped and knocked over several fencing and equestrian trophies.
"Shit!"
With another blind grope, she finally found her lamp and flicked it on. An aggravated "meow" startled her, before she saw the white cat stretched out on the windowsill.
"Nahar, you scared me out of my wits!" she said, bending over to pick up the trophies.
The cat only responded with another "meow" and then sat watching her change into pajamas. Slowly she walked over and picked up her cat from the sill and gazed out the window, nuzzling him.
The wind still howled outside, causing tree branches to scratch at the house. Not far from her viewpoint, she could see the rain pouring down, overflowing the creek and swimming pond. The water seemed dark and menacing as it thrashed with the rain and rushed on. Thoughts of Elena Lock and her dead aunt lying there in the field flashed through her mind, she turned away shuddering.
She went to her bed and reached for the book on her nightstand, thinking to escape for awhile into another world with the words of Tolkien. But tiredly her hand dropped from it and she flicked off the lamp instead. Eva rolled under the covers, clutching Nahar close, and drifted into sleep.
Author's Preface:
As an author, I did not write this story from beginning and move on from there. The overall idea hit me and the prologue was the first bit I wrote, even though it does not show up until Chapter Six. I put the prologue with this chapter because the formatting otherwise had been driving me insane. There was no real theme I wished to convey, but I came acrossthe quote (outlined at the top) that perfectly describes this story.
- - -
What was the deal with the Prologue? Where are Eva's parents? Why are the Hollinger's so mad at the Dale/Lynches? Who exactly was Elena Lock? Where am I going with all this? What does my title mean? All this and more in future updates of: "Of Earth and Water."
A/N: Chapter one was a jump to the real beginning of my story, I just felt like starting everything off with a little suspense. I hope this provided enough to detail (for now) to get me moving, the Prologue will show up in a later chapter.
4/30/04: I fixed the layout of the story, it was nuts to have chapter 11 on the twelfth point.