An Eyes of Garnet Novel: Double Vision © Mary Duncan 2008


Cat’s wounds were nearly healed by the end of October. On her birthday, the thirty-first—Samhain, the night when the veil between the living and dead is the thinnest, Cat wanted to do a remembrance meditation. She wanted her family around her. It was strange how sometimes she felt so alone, even with Greame’s family surrounding her. She missed her mother, Anna and Lachlan the most, but would be pleased if any of her family showed up. The dead didn’t remember dates.

Well after supper, after the ceilidh that Greame had surprised her with, including an apple pie Kenny insisted on making for her, and Highland music played by Kelvin’s pipes, she set out her meditation items on the kitchen table. They consisted of a silk square of emerald, indigo and raspberry swirls, candles, fragrant herbs and the enormous amethyst crystal Greame had given to her for just such occasions.

“Would ye like me to be wi’ ye, or are ye wantin’ to be alone?” Greame asked.

She looked up at his rugged face, usually hard and uncompromising, now softened in the dim light of the candles, and smiled. “Why dinna ye stay, if ye dinna mind. Ye’ve already met them all, and perhaps they’ll hae somethin’ to say to ye.”

He coughed out a laugh. “Garnet, ye hae a strange way o’ thinkin’ I’ve met them all. The only ones I e’er met while they were livin’ were yer Da and Anna Macpherson. Meetin’ the dead is a wee bit different, wouldna ye say?”

Cat had to giggle, too. “Aye, well, there’s no’ many a man who would dare go where ye hae gone wi’ me, a’ ghaoil. So what’ll it be?”

Greame took a seat next to her and laid his hand over hers. “I’ll stay.”

“Great! Let’s begin,” she glanced at the clock in the corner. “It’s nearin’ midnight.”

She poured the boiling water over the herbs, releasing their fragrance into the air. Balsam needles, tansy and bayberry leaves gave off an earthy, woodsy smell. For times like this, she wished she had asked Far Eyes, the Penobscot shaman, for the herbal concoction he had used once that emitted the aroma of Scotland. But the fragrance of Maine would do for tonight.

Cat and Greame held each other’s hands and closed their eyes, silently saying their prayers of protection. Within minutes, Anna’s cackle was heard from a far away place, making both of them smile. Cat could still see her ancient mentor, her long, steel gray plait, those ebony eyes that held the secrets of the universe in their black depths, and the toothless smile that was ever present.

Anna seemed to appear at the kitchen table, taking a seat next to Greame. She still held her oak staff with the Celtic interlace design carved around it and the amethyst orb it held in its root ball.

“Hallò, a Chatrìona. Ciamar a tha thu? She asked in the Gàidhlig.

“I am well, Mistress. And what of yerself?”

“Bored.”

At that statement, Cat and Greame laughed. “Well, I hope ye’re no’ lookin’ for us to keep ye entertained, Mistress. It’s too dangerous,” Cat told her.

“Och, aye, I ken all about it.  And ye’ve kept this old woman happy, but I feel it may be time to return.”

“What? Ye mean leave the other world and be reborn?” Cat asked, dismayed.

“Aye.”

“But how will I get along wi’out ye, Mistress? What if I need help from the other side? Whom shall I call upon?”

“Stop, Garnet! Do ye forget why I gave ye yer name? What it means?”

Greame was always amazed that this could actually happen and that he could be privy to it. But even he was a bit dismayed at the thought of not having Anna as an ally on the other side.

“Aye, ye gave it to me because ye thought I had the qualities of a garnet; courageous, determined, fiery and independent.”

“Remain steadfast on independent, Garnet. Ye dinna need me anymore. Ye are verra capable of managin’ anythin’ that comes yer way. Ye’ve proven it again and again. Stand strong, lass, and dinna use me as a crutch.”

She was gone. No goodbye, no good luck, just gone. Back into the ethereal from whence she came. Cat was too distracted to hear from anyone else, and blew out the candles.

Greame watched her, wondering what she was thinking, but knew better than to ask when she wore that expression. She got up and paced around the kitchen, absently picking up and putting items down.

“I’m goin’ to bed. Are ye comin’?” She announced.

“I’ll be along shortly,” he said, not moving from his chair at the table.

Cat disappeared into their bedroom and closed the door.

Greame relit the candles. He wanted to try something for himself. He heard Cat get into bed, and then he began his protection prayers.

“Da? Are ye there?” Greame whispered.

He waited a few minutes, figuring it would take longer since his father had been dead for nearly twenty years.

“Mam?”

There was no reply from either of his parents. Maybe they had been reborn already. He pondered that for a few more minutes. Who would they be now? Would he recognize them if he saw them again? He had never really considered the thought until Cat asked him if he believed in reincarnation. He told her he could consider the possibility, and after what he’d experienced with her and Far Eyes, he knew now that anything was possible. He blew out the candles and headed for bed.

“Did ye get yer answers?” Cat asked groggily, nearly asleep.

“No.”

“Ye’ll get them in yer dreams tonight,” she said, then rolled over.

Greame closed his eyes and called up his parents’ faces. In his mind, he asked if they were well, then let the question drift into the ether. Wherever they were, perhaps they heard him.

***

The sweet, musty aroma of fallen leaves assailed Cat’s nose when she walked out of her cabin heading for the privy. She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the fragrance. The morning was bright with no wind, a rarity along the coast. Gent had finally started to act like himself again. She knew losing Bogle was hard on him. He ran up ahead as Cat walked down to the privy. There was a strangeness in the air, as though it was waiting for something. She looked up into the sky. It was a cloud-free blue. It didn’t look or feel like snow, but she could tell something was brewing.

For a moment, she wished she had gone to the Penobscot’s winter camp to see Jim and Jumping Turtle and their one-year-old baby boy, who had yet to be named. The lad was good-natured and had a perpetual smile on his face. His outstanding feature was his brilliant blue eyes he’d obviously inherited from Jim. Cat shuddered at the memory of Black Devil’s attempt to possess that baby boy and destroy the Penobscot tribe from within. The Mohawk shaman’s seed of evil perpetrated out of hate for Cat. That was over now, and she wondered if what she was feeling was the anniversary of that event, or something new. She left the privy and returned to the cabin to start breakfast. Greame was still sleeping when she’d left, and she wondered if he’d had any dreams last night.

“Good mornin’ a’ ghaoil,” Greame said in a rather cheerful voice.

Cat smiled at the endearment. “Ye’re chipper this mornin’. Did ye sleep well?”

He was still clad just in his nightshirt. His rich brown hair, mussed from sleep, cascaded over his thick shoulders. Barefoot, he walked over to Cat and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Indeed I did.”

“Any dreams ye remember?”

He smiled widely, transforming his face into true pleasure. “Aye. My Da visited wi’ me.” Greame sat at the kitchen table; Cat took a seat next to him. He grabbed her hands and said, “He told me he was proud o’ me, Garnet.” He shook his head as though the compliment had never been told to him before. “My Da … proud o’ me. Huh.”

“Greame, ye act surprised to hear such a thing.”

He looked at her, his eyes turning a brighter green, and nodded. His voice was choked when he spoke. “I am.”

Cat hugged him, her throat catching to hold back her own tears.

He released her and said, “I was too young when he passed. There was nothin’ for him to be proud of.”

“From what I hear, that’s no’ true.” Cat’s amethyst eyes had a faraway look to them. “He made the special visit last night to tell ye what he couldna in life. He’s always been proud o’ ye, Greame. He just didna ken how to say it.”

Without a word, he got up and went into the bedroom. Cat knew it wasn’t just to get dressed.