The Time Witch - Part 18
Recap: Evangeline physically communicates with Ghost Samuel, but it’s an angry, hot mess. And she’s more frustrated than ever to find out what went wrong and stop it! She heads to Mabel for answers.
Short on time? Scan the story and just read the Bold parts to get the gist of the story. Then come back later and read the whole thing!
LINKS: The Beginning, Last Part (#17), Time Witch page
“Are you dead?”
Somewhere in the Victorian mansion, Mabel’s voice shouted the question and a bell chimed.
Evangeline stalled, hand on the doorknob. She looked back into the room that Samuel had created for her. “I would never pick your life over mine. Whatever happened or hasn’t happened, we will stand against it. Together.”
A soft caress of air blew across her cheek. It felt like a kiss sent from afar. He sure runs hot and cold, Evangeline thought. Despite the mixed signals, a renewed sense of purpose filled her heart.
Mabel called out again, and while her voice was muffled by several walls, it carried. “If you make me drink alone, I’ll be grumpy.”
While Evangeline couldn’t imagine a version of Mabel that wasn’t always slightly annoyed, she had her reasons for hurrying to find the kitchen. She needed some answers before returning to the library and finding a way to remove the bracelet and enter the tunnel. Still, she vowed to protect the Covington-Yorks as much as possible and keep the storm away from the mansion.
“Am I getting close?” Evangeline called, having already taken one wrong turn into a hall closet.
“Could you get any farther?”
Opening yet another solid oak door, Evangeline finally found the rambling kitchen. Large windows let in welcoming sunlight with roller blinds pulled halfway down, limiting the rays’ intensity. Evangeline marveled at the space—black and white hexagon tiled floor, plus a big white ceramic farmer’s sink—all lovingly maintained. The usual appliances and miles of counter space framed the room’s perimeter and, in the very center, a long wooden table. Its patina shone, full of rich browns with darker black, highlighting every sign of the decades of use. The marks, cuts, and burns just added to the beauty.
Mabel waited at one end, indicating a chair for Evangeline. A fluffy, chintz cushion made it a welcome invitation, except it was occupied. Mabel shooed away a gray tabby and poured dark liquid into a dainty bone china cup. “I hope you like your tea strong.”
Taking the offered seat, Evangeline knew she had to ask some tough questions. It made her tongue-tied. She reached for a bowl full of sugar cubes. “I didn’t know they made these anymore.”
“Of course they do,” Mabel scoffed. “You can get them at any big grocery store.”
“Baxter Creek has a big box store?”
“No,” Mabel said with a little less sass. “We have to drive almost all the way to San Francisco. Urban sprawl keeps making the commute shorter and shorter.”
Evangeline added two lumps of sugar and stirred, using the action to delay a little bit longer. She wanted to enjoy having Mabel in a friendly mood.
“Now, I’m thinking you must have a fierce amount of questions,” Mabel said, reading her mind.
Startled, Evangeline couldn’t help but wonder what gifts Mabel might be hiding.
“Let’s not dilly dally,” Mabel said, getting to the point. “Let’s speak frankly. What do you need to know? Oh! Did you try on any of the clothes?”
The question stopped Evangeline from asking about Samuel. “What clothes?”
“In the wardrobe.” Mabel frowned. “Didn’t I tell you? Drat! Samuel built that room for you, filled with all the normal things that belong to you.”
“It’s an overwhelming gift,” Evangeline had to admit. “I don’t know if I can accept it.”
“Fiddle faddle! It’s yours, as is everything in the wardrobe, full of vintage clothes, so you can dress properly,” Mabel said. “Take a couple and keep them at the library. Change before you go back.”
“So, you know about the tunnel?”
Mabel nodded.
Evangeline felt relieved. She didn’t have to explain everything. “I can’t believe he bought clothes so I could dress properly in his time. Isn’t that something?”
Making a clicking noise with a tiny spoon against her teacup, Mabel only nodded.
The lack of camaraderie soured Evangeline’s excitement. “Well,” Evangeline cleared her throat, “I need to know what happened to Samuel and who I am.”
Mabel shook her head, making a strangled sound.
“Oh, I’m sorry; I thought you’d know that I have no idea how all this started, or where it’s going, or why I can do what I do,” Evangeline said, afraid she’d shocked the older woman.
“Oh, dear me, it’s just not what I expected.” Mabel sounded dumbfounded. “You want me to fill in those blanks?”
“Kinda, yay.”
Mabel tended to her tea, stirring in three more lumps of sugar. “What did Samuel tell you? When you went back and met him, I mean.”
“A lot has happened since the last time,” Evangeline said, a worrisome lump of angst knotting her stomach. “And it’s happened to me, not him. I think he’s still living in a time before anything happens—mostly, there’s also his ghost. I’ve seen his ghost.”
“Oooh,” Mabel softly murmured, seeming to swallow her disappointment.
Evangeline tried again. “Maybe you should tell me what’s wrong.”
“Did I say anything is wrong?” Mabel snapped.
Evangeline braced for the worst.
“I’ll have you know that you’ve changed the past, and I guess that means the present, too. That is now. Or then. Oh, drat, I get confused. Doesn’t it get you all sideways?”
“Yes, but,” Evangeline raised a finger, having heard something amazing. “I changed history? How? I mean, how would you know?”
“You think this makes any sense to me?” Mabel grumbled; her true spirit took center stage. “All you need to know is that the family has been keeping a record of how it was and how it changes. A record that started with Charles.”
Gulping her tea, Evangeline burned her tongue but barely noticed. “Samuel’s brother Charles started a record? But the record doesn’t change when history does?”
“It’s like a bubble exists around those that know. The past and present seem to linger in our memory and the ledger.” Mabel shrugged one shoulder. “Haven’t you felt it yet? Time is different for us.”
“How can time be different?” Evangeline asked, not that she hadn’t felt what Mabel was talking about, plus she was part of a full-blown experience last night. “Forget that, of course, I know what you mean. It’s just all new to me.”
“If living with it longer helps you understand, let me know.” Mabel sipped her tea, seemingly relieved she didn’t have to go into any more of an explanation.
Evangeline mulled it over. “So… Charles started a record of events, passing it along through your family, person to person, generation to generation?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
Evangeline smiled, getting used to Mabel’s sass. It was remarkable to speak with someone who knew about Samuel and the past, even if it generated more questions.
“Charles wanted to document it all,” Mabel continued, “but he also wanted to inspire his descendants. He wanted us to feel the history. To make it so real, we’d keep the secret and continue what he started.”
Mabel sighed as if the prose truly inspired her.
“It’s really remarkable!” Evangeline marveled at what Mabel and her whole family had done. “Your family has gone above and beyond!”
Mabel didn’t even react to the compliment. She seemed to be weighing her words as if the wrong one would give away vital information. “Poor Charles began the ledger—his journal—to prove he wasn’t going insane.” Mabel raised an eyebrow, suggesting he wasn’t the only one.
Evangeline had similar thoughts herself at first. “What did I change?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“What?!” Evangeline couldn’t believe it. “I need to know everything you know!”
Mabel clucked her tongue at a kitten, testing its tiny claws on her chair leg. A little pink nose poked upward, all innocent.
“It’s not me,” Mabel insisted. “Well, it’s me now, not just me. It didn’t start with me. The family decided long ago. We are not to interfere with the decisions you make. Showing you Charles’s journal could alter history even more, and in a bad way.”
“Then why tell me about the record at all?” Evangeline asked, unable to quiet her growing frustration.
“To let you know it matters. Everything you do. Or did. Or are going to do. Drat! You know what I mean. It matters.” Mabel looked hopeful.
“Changing history?” Evangeline felt selfish.
Mabel wagged a finger in the air. “Don’t overreact. Charles is very clear about that in his journal. Time isn’t fragile. Our little saying, ‘Time pushes back,’ is true.”
Evangeline reached out and took Mabel’s hand. “I thank you. I thank your whole family. At the very least, it’s confirmation that I’m not nuts and something extraordinary is happening.”
“You and me both,” Mabel agreed.
“I suppose whatever I decide to do is the right thing.” Evangeline felt some of the pressure ease.
“Well, I didn’t say that!” Mabel snapped.
Evangeline bit her lip.
Mabel chuckled at the sight, sitting back to enjoy her hot, sweet tea. “All I mean is don’t get cocky. As for any concern about your sanity, have no fear. Your encounters with Samuel have been documented. My family is proof of that, and you, my dear, are proof that curating the secret was not a Covington-York curse but a worthy commitment.” She gave her a little shrug. “And a man went to great lengths to ensure you knew of his devotion.”
“Why, Mabel, I believe you’re a romantic, after all.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” Mabel said. “It will ruin my reputation.”
Evangeline glanced around at the kitchen. It felt like she’d stepped back in time, just sitting there sipping tea. “I can’t wrap my head around Samuel as a man or what he’s done for me. We just met, but we’ve connected. I really don’t know how to think of him. Besides, I heard a ‘but’ coming in your tone.”
“‘But is such a vulgar word, dear,” Mabel pointed out. “Please say ‘and also’ when you can. Even ‘however’ is preferable, although barely so.”
Evangeline nodded, wondering if she could honor the request, and pretty sure she’d heard Mabel use the offensive B-word. Despite all that, she decided to try. “And also…” she said, “don’t you agree that Samuel is the stuff of fantasy?”
Mabel nodded. “Hmm… perhaps, yet… you strike me as a woman who would also go to great lengths to show your devotion to a special gentleman.”
Silly as it seemed, the thought gave Evangeline hope. “I just might.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a bit. Evangeline replayed the last hour or so, confused by the ghost and thrilled a charming man had done so much to demonstrate his feelings. “Mabel,” she broke the tranquility, “what can you tell me?”
“Well, dear, I can answer some questions,” she said. “I just cannot lead you. Don’t fret over that, as my knowledge is limited. The hard answers come from within, not without.”
One hard truth concerned Evangeline the most. “I’ve learned that Samuel disappeared at some point after I met him in 1910. Do you know anything about that?”
Mabel puffed out air. “It was all conjecture, publicly. Charles believed Samuel left with you, yet that explanation was only for our family. I must say, however, I’ve had some concerns about that matter, especially when you found the skeleton.”
“It’s not like that,” Evangeline said. She briefly explained how the skeleton was Samuel but hadn’t been in the library since 1910. At least she made it clear he hadn’t departed Baxter Creek through a mishap involving the tunnel.
The revelation caused Mabel to add another sugar cube to her tea. “Well, well, well.”
“I’m not sure why Charles thought he came with me,” Evangeline said. “Did he explain? Did he see us disappear through the tunnel?”
“No, Charles only knew what you could do,” Mabel answered. “He witnessed your skills on several occasions.”
“Well, Mabel, that’s no help, right?” Evangeline bit her tongue, ashamed of taking her frustration out on the older woman.
Yet, Mabel took no offense. “Dear Charles worried about his brother and longed for an update. He felt certain Samuel would contact him. Share the outcome of it all.”
Evangeline crossed her legs, but her foot twitched. “Maybe he will. I don’t think we’ve reached the outcome.” She couldn’t sit any longer. Getting up, she paced, thinking it over.
“Your cup is empty.” Mabel reached for the pot to refill it.
“Have you seen Samuel?” Evangeline asked. “His ghost, I mean.”
Mabel sighed. “Not I, no. He has been seen here in the mansion, though. Through the generations. A shadowy image, no more.”
Studying the old tins along the counter, Evangeline wondered what they contained. They looked vintage.
“Charles met you,” Mabel said, offering the information like an olive branch. “Has that happened yet?”
“No,” Evangeline said. “I have not met Charles.”
Pursing her lips, Mabel struggled to ask a favor. “When you do, could you mention me? I’ve always felt a strong kinship with Charles. It would be nice for him to know. If opportunity allows.”
Still unable to sit, Evangeline mindlessly nodded. She wished for a big whiteboard to take notes and make diagrams—not that she knew a lot, but sides were being drawn. The coven is on one side, and then there’s the mystery of Lenora. “We need more facts and maybe some rumors,” Evangeline said, thinking it through. “After all, I don’t know of any time or place where people don’t talk about other people.”
“Yes, yes,” Mabel nodded. “I would have to agree. What did Samuel’s letter reveal?”
Part of Evangeline didn’t want to say. The letter was private.
Mabel’s nose wrinkled, and she leaned forward as if getting ready to defend her right to know.
“He’s worried about me and whatever we’re facing,” Evangeline explained. “It wasn’t named, but I got the feeling that all the players aren’t known to us just yet.”
Mabel nodded, listening. It took her a thoughtful moment to ask a pointed question. “Who do you consider the players?”
Having a whiteboard to make a list seemed even more necessary; however, the list of players was currently short. “The coven, past and present,” Evangeline said, “and the Wedding Pact members.”
Mable snapped her fingers at the mention of the Wedding Pact. “Oooh, that’s always been a puzzle,” she said. “I can tell you that the terms of the Wedding Pact weren’t known.”
“You mean outside the families?”
Mable shook her head, not understanding it herself. “Not even the descendants. Only the ones that made the pact knew the full details.”
Evangeline went back to her chair. “I don’t understand.”
“The Wedding Pact was so secret,” Mabel said, dramatically lowering her voice, “they kept it from their descendants. Otherwise, I’d know.”
Evangeline’s jaw tightened. “Has to be because of the coven.”
“You don’t like them much.” It was a statement, not a question.
Finding it hard not to grumble over her reception, Evangeline immediately thought of Lenora. “They weren’t the only ones, and let’s just say I won’t be invited to Charles’s and Lenora’s wedding.” She still couldn’t believe he would end up with the uppity lady. She felt sorry for Charles.
Mabel set down her tea cup with a clatter. “What’s your problem with my great-grandmother?”
“She’s a lot like you,” Evangeline said, “and not the good parts.”
A huge smile spread across Mable’s face. “You tell her hi-de-do from me, as well. It sure does my heart good to hear about family!”
Evangeline tried not to laugh. She found it hard for anyone to be excited over a relative like Lenora. Alas, there clearly was more to the woman than crisp white gloves, an exquisite parasol, and a nasty snarl.
Mabel clapped her hands together. “Oh, there was that thing. You should know, and I can tell you.”
“Know what?”
“About Lenora,” Mabel snapped. “Keep up.”
Evangeline closed her eyes for a second.
“Your comments about Lenora make sense,” Mabel recalled the detail. “My great-grandmother had style and attitude, sometimes too much attitude. There was a time when she was extremely difficult. You must have met her in the midst of all that. Charles didn’t elaborate. It came across like an illness.”
Evangeline’s eyes rolled heavenward. “So, Lenora’s eventually cured of her attitude?” It was hard to believe. Until she recalled how the face of Adas Abernathy had briefly overtaken Lenora’s face. “Oh.”
“Did I help?” Mabel asked.
“I think you did,” Evangeline marveled. “And I look forward to meeting Charles.”
Mabel raised an eyebrow. “It’s a meeting you’ll remember.”
Evangeline jerked her head, sure the older woman had slipped, revealing something. “Why would I remember?”
“Charles was a character.” Mabel pasted on a Cheshire Cat smile and slowly stood to make more tea. “I will say no more.”
Evangeline couldn’t help but think that Mabel hadn’t given her the tea she wanted—answers to all her questions. She had to try one more time. “What do you know about Adas Abernathy?”
Mabel’s face clouded over, and she shivered. “He’ll ruin everything if you let him, but you won’t.”
The sudden show of confidence did not ease Evangeline’s concern. “How do you know?”
Mabel winked. “You’re a badass like me.”