Seven

Lucas rode his bike fast and hard, breaking traffic rules and running red lights when he thought he could get away with it.  He needed to get to his aunt's house before lunchtime, because in the afternoons she always left the house, always had hundreds of activities that she was involved with at any one time.  She had never married, had never even had a serious boyfriend as far as Lucas knew, and so she set about to fill her time in other ways.  Lucas knew that if he didn't catch her before lunch, she would be gone, and tomorrow would be too late.  He pumped the pedals harder, his thighs screaming in protest as he blazed through an intersection relying on luck alone to keep traffic out of his path.

Aunt Mary was his only aunt (his dad was an only child), and she was the black sheep of the family, or at least of that generation.  Karen's maiden name was Petrescu, but despite the eastern European heritage of both the Petrescus and the Ditryks, Lucas's family were no-nonsense people, generally speaking.  His parents never sent him to church, and they never talked about religion or the myths of their ancestors "back in the old country."  They weren't superstitious and they didn't care for anything supernatural.  All of Lucas's grandparents had the same disdain for what they called "gypsy poppycock".  In other words, his family were boring, one-dimensional people, or at least Lucas thought they were.  

But Aunt Mary was another story.  She openly believed in things and subscribed to practices that embarrassed the whole family.  She wasn't afraid to admit that she felt astrology held great influence over the universe, or that tarot cards could be useful tools for deciphering a tricky situation or making decisions in a crisis.  Her house was decorated with crystals and talismans, all of which had a special significance or had an impact, according to Aunt Mary, in a particular realm of the unseen.  Mary dressed in long, flowing velvet skirts and had wild, unruly hair.  She wore a lot of eyeliner and sometimes painted her nails purple or black.

The other members of the family seemed ashamed when Mary would bring her own inimitable style and flair to family gatherings and special occasions.  Karen referred to it as, "my sister's own brand of crazy," an assessment which most of the family shared but which Lucas thought was unfair.  Conversations always grew quiet around Mary, or sometimes people avoided her altogether if she started talking about subjects for which she had a particular passion, like ghosts she had seen, or star charts she had made for influential people.  Family members would cringe or turn away when those kinds of topics came up, which they invariably did at Thanksgiving or Christmas, but Lucas never saw what the big deal was.  He didn't have many aunts or uncles, in fact it was only Aunt Mary, and he always liked her, even as a kid.  He knew that his parents used to be worried that her eccentricities might frighten a small child, but that turned out to be a fear completely unfounded.  Lucas had loved visiting his aunt, and had particularly loved Mary's house, because her tables and shelves were full of all sorts of things that looked like trinkets from the fantasy books he loved so much, and Aunt Mary never said "don't touch that" or "leave those things alone" like his mother always did.  Nothing was off-limits in his Aunt Mary's house, and no matter what polished stone or gleaming crystal Lucas discovered, Mary always had a story about its origin that rivalled the legends in any Tolkien book

But now, far from the realm of childhood or the wonders of magical fables, Lucas needed his aunt's help in a way he could never have imagined.  Something had happened to him at the cellar door this morning, something profound and beyond his understanding, and Aunt Mary was the only person close to him who would possibly be able to help him unravel the mystery and figure out what he was supposed to do next.  He had a pretty good idea of what direction he would be heading, literally, but he had no way of knowing how he had come upon that information or why it had been given to him.  He had thousands of questions, but very few answers.

As he turned the corner onto his aunt's street, he exhaled with relief, both at the fact that her house was at the bottom of the hill and he could coast down from here, and at the sight of her car, still parked in the driveway.  Mary was eccentric in most ways, and her taste in vehicles was no exception.  Rather than spending her money on a newer car, she preferred to drive what she called "a classic."  Lucas wasn't sure just how far one would have to stretch to call a 1973 Pinto a classic, but Lucas liked the way she thought anyway.  She kept the car in exceptionally good condition, with a baby blue paint job and soft velour interior in grey.  It even had an eight-track cassette player, something Lucas might never had encountered in his life otherwise.  Spending time with Aunt Mary had certainly been educational, if nothing else.

Lucas left his bike in the driveway, behind the car, and jogged up to the front door.  He rang the bell several times, but for several minutes there was no answer.  He could hear some activity inside the house, something that sounded like singing, or maybe even chanting.  He started to wonder if he was interrupting something important that was going on in there.  He was just about to go around to the back of the house and try the kitchen door, when the front door cracked open and a round, chubby face appeared.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, half smiling and half questioning.

Lucas didn't recognise her.  He could smell patchouli.  "I'm, uh, I guess I've come at a bad time.  I'm, I'm Lucas, Mary's nephew."

The woman opened the door all the way and her smile broadened.  "Oh yes, of course!" she said.  "Come in Lucas, it's not a bad time at all. Mary's told us so much about you, please join us.  Everyone will be thrilled to meet you."

Lucas wondered how many people comprised "everyone" as he smiled in embarrassment and made his way inside, being careful to remove his shoes and leave them in the front hall.  Aunt Mary had taught him that wearing shoes inside the house, especially when one was a guest, was impolite and disrespectful back in "the old country."  Lucas liked being barefoot anyway, so it was a rule that was easy to remember.

He could hear the chatter of women's voices as the chubby woman led him toward the dining room.  "We're just starting lunch, so you've arrived at a perfect time," she said.  "My name is Michaela, and I'll let the other ladies introduce themselves.  Ah, here we are," she said as they entered the dining room.  "Ladies, look who's here, it's Mary's nephew, Lucas!" she announced.  

There were seven ladies sitting at the table, with Aunt Mary at the head and an empty chair next to her where Michaela had been sitting.  Mary got up from her chair and walked with open arms toward her nephew.  "Lucas, what a lovely surprise," she said with complete sincerity, embracing him tightly and kissing him on the cheek.  "Michaela, would you mind bringing an extra chair in from the kitchen so we can make room for my handsome nephew?" she asked as Michaela nodded and disappeared into the other room.  She came back almost as quickly as she left, and the ladies moved aside to give Lucas a place to sit.  Before he had a chance to say anything, he had a plate in front of him that was heaped with food, and a fork in his hand.

"Eat, child, you're too thin," the woman to his left said.  He thought he had seen her before but couldn't recall her name.  In fact, he thought he recognised most of these women to varying degrees, but he couldn't quite remember from where or how long ago.  His hopes of being able to speak to his Aunt Mary in private were slowly sinking away as he saw the bottles of wine on the table and realised that these women were settling in for a long afternoon session.

"So, Lucas, what brings you to my neck of the woods this afternoon?" Mary asked, filling her glass with a vibrant red wine.  She held the bottle up toward Lucas with a questioning look on her face, as if to offer him some.  Well, this is something that would certainly never happen at home, he thought, and shook his head to decline the offer.  He'd never tasted any alcoholic drink before, and honestly he was a little afraid to try because most of them smelled terrible.  Mary passed the bottle around to Michaela and Lucas lost track of it after that.

"I just came to spend some time with you," Lucas lied.  Mary sighed histrionically and her face made an expression that told him she was smarter than that.  Give me a break, she said without words.  Lucas smiled at his aunt's ability to read people and he looked down at his plate in mock shame.  "Okay, okay," he admitted.  "I came because I need to speak to you about something."

Mary laughed.  "Let me guess," she said, "your father and mother have filled your head with more stories about how we practice voodoo and worship animal gods over at my house, and you've come to see if any of it's true."  The ladies giggled.

Lucas laughed as well.  His aunt was prone to melodrama, but her mention of voodoo and strange religion wasn't too far from what he'd heard in the past.  People tended to exaggerate things they didn't understand, and over the years Lucas's parents had been no exception.  The stories of Mary's alleged rituals and witchcraft ceremonies had reached nearly legendary status in his home.  Lucas had always suspected that most of it was untrue, and he'd been right.  Aunt Mary did not practice witchcraft as such, though she had great respect for those who did, and she fully believed in the power of the universe and natural forces.  Mary was just about the kindest person Lucas had ever met, and if she did practice any rituals, Lucas knew they would only be ceremonies that were based in respect for life and love for humanity.  There would certainly not be anything sacrificed or any voodoo going on.

"No, no, not this time Aunt Mary," Lucas replied.  An image of the cellar door passed through his mind and he suddenly became serious.  "No, I need to talk to you about something else, something that happened to me," he said solemnly.  "Something private.  Something I... can't explain."

A hush settled over the table and the ladies leaned forward in their chairs, filled with intrigue.

"Does your mother know you're here?" Mary asked.

"Yes, but she doesn't know why," Lucas replied.

Mary nodded.  "I see," she said.  "Michaela, get my nephew a glass of wine, would you please?"

Lucas didn't even try to refuse the wine this time.  He took a deep breath, and everyone at the table could see how troubled he was.  "Can we speak somewhere privately after lunch?" he asked.

Mary shrugged.  "Of course, if you wish," she said.  "But from what you've said so far, I suspect that the matter is not of a deeply personal nature, but rather deals with the unknown, am I right?"

Lucas nodded without saying anything.  He didn't even know where he was going to begin telling this tale.

Mary continued.  "Well then, you've come to the right place," she said, sweeping her arm out and gesturing toward the other women at the table.  "It's just your luck that we have a veritable expert panel of the unknown here.  Michaela's a professional at tarot and tea-leaf reading, Karla has a sensitivity for spirits trapped between the two worlds, Petra can unleash the natural powers in crystals and other objects, Selene can read signs of the past in houses and buildings... we have everything here, Lucas, and we're more than happy to help.  Now relax and drink your wine, and tell us what happened."

Lucas stared at his wine, not quite sure how to go about drinking it, and then he wrapped his hand around the stem of the glass.  He looked around at the approving smiles from the ladies and raised the glass to his lips.  The wine was sweeter than he expected, very sweet in fact, and the taste of it warmed and calmed him.  After another two or three sips he decided he must find out what the name of this wine was.  He took a long, slow breath, placed his glass on the table, and began his story.

The women listened intently, and despite Lucas's fears not one of them laughed at him or ridiculed what he was saying.  He made his best effort to speak slowly and clearly, trying not to forget anything, and going back and correcting himself when he did forget to include an important detail here or there.  Occasionally one of the women would stop him to ask a question, usually just a point of clarification, and he found that their questions helped propel him along in his tale.  All in all, they were more receptive than he could have ever hoped for, and Lucas felt a great weight lift from him when he finished his story.  None of them asked him if he had been taking drugs, and none of them patronised him by saying it was probably a dream and that he should just forget about it.  They were attentive and receptive, and Lucas was discovering a new level of respect for his aunt and her circle of friends.

Karla was the first to speak.  "Lucas, you say the voice you heard speaking to you was a woman, is that correct?"

Lucas nodded.

"And she told you that you must go to the woman you saw in the vision?"

"Yes," Lucas replied.  "At least, I think so.  She told me that I must go, and I had a strong feeling that I'm supposed to find the woman I saw lying on that floor.  She told me that the woman was waiting for me."

The women murmured among themselves for a minute, and then Karla spoke again.  "Lucas, do you feel you want to go find this woman?"

Lucas sighed.  "I don't think it's about what I want," he said.  "I'm pretty sure I have to go, that's it's what's required of me."

Karla smiled.  She looked around at the other women, who all nodded in assent.  "Then if you have to go, you have to," she said.  "We humans like to think we're the bosses of the world, but not everything is always up to us."

Lucas quickly looked to his Aunt Mary for her opinion.  Mary shrugged and said, "it's true, Lucas.  I have no idea how we're going to explain this to your parents, but clearly this is your path, a path that fate has chosen for you.  Who are we to question that?  I think the consequences of you not going are likely to be greater than those we'll face for stretching the truth to Karen and Bill.  They are, after all, just people, and if you're answering to something higher now, then they don't really have much authority over that."

Lucas sat glued to his chair, stunned that his aunt had spoken out so boldly against the rule of his parents, that the whole issue had been dealt with so decisively and quickly, and that they had wound up at such a bizarre conclusion.  Was it really just as simple as following a voice he heard in his head?  What if he was wrong, what if it was schizophrenia or some other type of psychosis?  What if there really was no woman and it was all in his head?  The ladies didn't seem to think there was much to get worked up about— after the satisfaction of having delivered such a cut-and-dried verdict, they simply got up from the table and cleared the dishes away.  After the remains of the lunch were taken to the kitchen, a couple of the women stayed in there to wash up while everyone else shuffled themselves and the rest of the wine into the living room.  As he lovingly escorted his second glass of wine out of the dining room, Lucas made his way over to his favourite chair in the living room, the one he always used to choose when he was a child visiting Aunt Mary's house.  It was overstuffed, soft, and comfortable, and it was the closest one to the fireplace, which wasn't quite in use yet this early in the season.

After Lucas had listened to a few minutes of idle chit-chat, one of the women came out of the kitchen with a large platter of freshly baked cookies, and Lucas instantly reverted to his childhood.  He took three of the cookies, which were chocolate-chocolate-chip, and the wine helped him forget that the perfect accompaniment to cookies was actually a big glass of cold milk.  As the women emerged from the kitchen and the dining room one by one, they each settled down on the sofa and amongst the ample choice of chairs in Aunt Mary's living room.  Mary's house was huge, but it still had a very cosy feel about it, especially when it was full of such warm personalities.  Lucas was having a fantastic time, and the wine helped him ignore how strange it was that he was a teenager spending his Saturday afternoon with a group of middle-aged women who lived on the fringe of what was considered to be normal society.  But the truth was that he couldn't think of anywhere else he would have rather been at that moment.

"So, Lucas, where is it you're supposed to go to find this woman?" one of the women asked.  Lucas thought he remembered that her name was Ellen.

"Um, I'm not too sure," he replied.  "The voice wasn't specific about that, but..."

"...But you must have some idea?" Ellen asked.

"Well, kind of... I think I'm headed east."

Ellen nodded and took another sip of her third glass of wine.  "East," she repeated.

"You mean, like Boston?" Karla asked.

Lucas thought that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, but then he remembered that he was the one with the ridiculous story, and he couldn't expect others to automatically know things about it, or feel the intuition about it that he did.  In the end, although these people were extremely sympathetic to his cause and very open-minded about what appeared to be a supernatural incident, the fact remained that they weren't there when the cellar vision happened.  They had no way of knowing how strong the pull of this voice had been, and they couldn't feel the magnitude of the pull that Lucas felt, the magnet-like force he couldn't describe with mere words.

"No, not Boston, more like... more east," he said, the wine now beginning to interfere with his ability to explain himself clearly.

Mary's face started to show concern.  "What, like, overseas?"  she asked, and only now did she allow the briefest hint of incredulity creep into her voice.  How odd, Lucas thought, that she has no problem accepting the idea that a disembodied voice may have visited me in a ghost-like visual encounter in my downstairs hallway this morning, but the thought of my going across an ocean is just too much for her to handle.

"Yeah, I think so," he finally said, shrugging as if he weren't completely certain.  But in his mind he was sure he would be travelling much further than just overseas, though his exact destination was still unknown to him.

Mary's face dropped into a pained expression, somewhere between disappointment and regret.  "Lucas, I'm not sure how we could possibly explain something of that magnitude to your parents," she said.  "I mean, if you were travelling within the United States I could probably find some way to justify it to them, or I could cover for you somehow, but international travel, Lucas, and with you still being a minor and all, I just—"

"Mary, like we all agreed before, if he has to go, then it's not up to him or anyone else to question it," Ellen interrupted.  "You should know better than anyone that that's not how destiny works.  It's not like you can tell it no if you don't like the place it's sending you to or you think the journey will be too difficult."

"But Ellen, he's my nephew.  If anything were to happen to him, of course I'd be accepting the responsibility for that, and I just couldn't live with myself if anything happened to Lucas because of my irresponsibility, much less having to explain it to my sister and—"

"So come with me," Lucas said.

Al the women stopped, some mid-sip, and turned to look at Lucas.  Mary looked confused.  "Excuse me, what did you just say?" she asked.

"Come with me," Lucas repeated.  "We'll go together.  You can help me point myself in the right direction, and I'll personally escort you to your very own vacation in the old country."  The women gasped in a mixed expression of shock and delight.  "Come on, I know you've been wanting to see eastern Europe since you were a little girl, so now is your chance.  You'd be safe with me, and I'd be safe with you.  We could help each other."

Mary opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words came out.  "You know, Mary, the boy has a point," Michaela said.  "Going to the old country is all you've ever talked about for years now, and you've always said that the main thing that kept you from going was that you were a single female travelling alone.  So now you have an opportunity to go there with a handsome young man by your side, one who is on a mission assigned to him by the universe itself.  How much more of a fairy tale do you want?"

Mary looked at Lucas, and Lucas flashed what he thought must be the most charming smile ever, though now it was stained with red wine.  He raised his eyebrows at his aunt.  "What do you say, Aunt Mary?" he asked.  "We can see the world together, I can do whatever it is I'm supposed to do, and maybe along the way we'll even learn what the deal is with all those crazy cats gathering around the house.  I'm sure there's a reason for it."

Lucas took a big gulp of his wine as Mary shot a confused look at Michaela.  Cats? she mouthed, as Michaela shrugged.  The other women also looked at Mary and indicated with their expressions that they had no clue what her nephew was talking about.  Perhaps he'd had a little too much wine, some of them thought.

Lucas looked up from his glass and saw the bemusement on their faces.  "Oh," he said nonchalantly, swirling the wine around in his glass.  "Didn't I tell you about the cats?"