The Coach by the Sea: A Tale of Lucy and Emerick

   The Coach by the Sea:  A Tale of Lucy and Emerick

                                               Published in Macabre Maine’s Anthology:  ME Haunted Love

                                                                                          by S. J.  Galvin

       The group of five men wearing formal attire all gathered by the sea awaiting the arrival of Lucy Adamson and Emerick White, as a storm approached the coast of Southern Maine. It was early October; the year was 1885.  Each of them brought an assortment of skills, and all of them spiritualists.

       Just before Lucy’s luxurious coach rolled up before them, the elder of the men, Martin Casey, who arranged this meeting, and was also much like a grandfather, had gifts of new top hats for the four other men awaiting the arrivals.  Among them were: Patrick Cormac, the physician; Jude Doffman, the magistrate; Ellis Cross, the artist/landowner; and Murdoch McConnell, the journalist/publisher.   

       Dark shades of blue filled the sky, blending with silver colored bulbous clouds, which grew gloomy by the moment.  Thunder rumbled in the background, as the wind howled around them, but the men were distracted by the excitement of this assembly, and pleased with their new hats.  They chuckled, shook hands with Martin, and stood at attention ready to tip their new hats, while listening to the calls of the coachman in the distance.

       As clouds continued their journey over the sea toward them, the wooden wheels of the intricate black coach rolled over the gravel road toward them.  Horses hooves shuffled while coming to a halt by the seaside; they stood steadfast, and strong.  One of them sneezed and whinnied, as it rubbed a foot along the ground.

       The barracks where the soldiers slept were constructed along cliffs overlooking the sea, for soldiers to watch for enemy ships, as well structure below the ground where some of the military slept, took shelter, and performed other duties. Behind the fort were: the hospital, the guesthouse, a church, and other buildings where soldiers ate, and doctors did their work, just as this group of seven were about to gather to do in the guesthouse.  Those around the barracks knew of their work, but not all of it.  They knew this gathering was to conduct research, but not of mystical practices.  What they knew is that they there to be of service to them and society; and in turn the soldiers and others around the site, were of service to this group.

       Lucy stepped out of the coach, her long black hair neatly pulled back on the sides, large loose locks flowed down her back reaching her waist.  She wore a smaller version of the men’s black top hats except hers had a blue ribbon tied around it with an exquisite peacock feather curving out from one side.  Lucy sported a black velvet coat over her gown with the slight bustle.  From under her coattail, a pattern of peacock feathers flowed down the back of her bright, deep blue skirt.  The grim silvery sky reflected in her dark eyes, making a slight sparkle emanate from them. Lucy was holding a stack of three thick books that she’d brought along with her, a pair of leather gloves lay on top of them.

       She was not there to display her beauty; she was there for a reason.  Lucy was strong-willed, clever, and well educated.  She was one of them; part of this group, and they accepted her as she accepted them.  

The men all stopped conversing and thanking Martin for their new attire, as they shifted their attention on Lucy, and tipped their new top hats toward her.  In turn, Lucy tipped her head with her small top hat at them.  The men laughed in appreciation; both enamored and mesmerized with her at the same time.

        Their circle of seven was almost complete, as Emerick White from England, summoned by Martin, was the final one.  Martin had just returned from London, thus the new top hats, and friend Emerick, who he’d met whilst there.  Emerick was in his early 30s, a poet and practicing alchemist of sorts.  He was much like them in their research, work, and, thought. 

Emerick had traveled to London from the United States, year 2000, where he and Martin had met, quite by accident.  Emerick had been fleeing America on large fishing vessel, a mysterious fog overshadowed them, and he thought they’d entered a storm, but came out a mile or so later; clear as day, in Victorian England.  There, he had set up a new life and carried on until he met Martin, back in 1882. 

       Although the seven hadn’t yet formed an official established bond, each one of them knew that something bigger was taking place among them, and it was happening now.  Their intentions were for healing purposes, to get to another plane of existence while on earth, to try and rise above the wars, sick, and help where they could.  They would aim to see what was to come, explore travel through time in various ways, including through dreams.  And dreamers they were perhaps, but also open other realms. 

       As if on cue, lightning cracked along the horizon and zapped into the sea.  It was like a magical storm potion with the blend of: blackish clouds, blustery wind, white caps, breeze blowing through the trees along the sea, the smell of sea roses, and ocean rain soon approaching.  The clouds seemed to take the shape of a great being reaching out to put its arms around the bay, and thrash its mighty waves along the shore.  Lucy’s horses became uneasy from the thunder.  “Go ahead and take them to get settled in for the evening please,” Lucy said to the coachman.  She opened the door to the coach before it left to retrieve a suitcase.  The interior of the coach was luxurious blue, windows in the back larger wheels in the back smaller in the front.  “I shall be fine, Henry” Lucy smiled in a thin-lipped coy manner while raising her right eyebrow.

       Henry looked at her in a puzzled manner, “Yes, ma’am.”  He turned the carriage about and the horses were on their way to a dry safe spot in a nearby barn for the night.

       Another coach appeared, about the same size as Lucy’s, with all black horses.  It came to a stop in front of the six.  They were all silent, waiting for the carriage door to open.  A moment later, the door opened and Emerick stepped out.  The sea squall was still looming on the horizon, as if it was holding out as long as it could in anticipation of bursting into full-fledged tempest.  Massive arms of the dark sky kept moving closer, hugging the bay.  Shadowy clouds were pouring rain on the islands out in the distance, while winds were forming large whitecaps, and thick fog rolled in on top of them.  Emerick appeared out of his coach like a magical being. 

“Emerick,” may I introduce you to the brilliant Lucy Adamson?” Said Martin.

       As she held tight to the stack of books in her left arm, Emerick took Lucy’s ungloved left hand without saying a word, his eyes said it all as he carefully brought it to his lips and kissed it. 

       The London blue Topaz ring on her ring finger, an heirloom her mother had given to her, reminded Lucy that it might soon be replaced by an engagement ring from a fellow land owner, widower Charles Walters, whom Lucy had met just months ago.  Small diamonds circled the deep blue stone, and gleamed as she drew her hand away from Emerick’s lips and looked into his eyes.  Her face gave a mischievous and alluring expression all at once.  Eyes of the other men expressed shock, perhaps waiting for Lucy to react to such a bold and intrusive move.  And then Emerick spoke.

       “Enchanting to meet you,” he said.  “Your most beautiful as well.”  He nodded toward her arms,  “That’s quite a stack of books you’re holding there.”  Emerick tipped his black top hat revealing shaggy brown hair that extended just below his ears. 

       “Yes.  Very important books,” she said.  And looked around at all the men, as if not to exclude them from her introduction to Emerick, yet her eyes rested back on him.

       In that instant, they both connected and were magnetized by the chemistry between them.  A surge of electricity within that single moment seemed to stop time and bring them back into that dream. 

       The dream.  They’d met across the world while sleeping, in a sultry room with velvet purple curtains, overlooking the sea.  The sound of waves were crashing outside below their room, gusts of wind and whitecaps covered the sea as they stood in front of that window, kissing with a furious passion.  But when they both woke, Lucy was in America, and Emerick in England; their oceans were calm, and their morning, crisp and clear.  That dream was shared by them during the last new moon, where cosmic lovers came together creating their own storm. 

       Emerick’s six new colleagues stood around him, “Emerick White,” he said, holding out a black-gloved hand to each of them in turn, as they all circled around him.  Lucy and Emerick were both excited and self-contained, for neither one of them realized they had shared that dream, until now, a magical coincidence perhaps, or some kind of foretelling of the moment when they would actually meet, and begin their work together with the group.

       As they met in person, with the storm looming over the sea, a blood moon was rising and peeked through the strange thunderheads.  Lucy and Emerick shared an immediate silent connection between them.  His coach was rather large and intricate, almost as fancy as Lucy’s.  Emerick’s horses were at ease, as if under a spell.   The moment broke as the group of seven all agreed to go and meet in the brick building not far from where they stood.   Emerick summoned Lucy and Martin to ride along with him.  As Lucy climbed inside and sat on the dark leather seats of the coach, she tried not to show that she was charmed by Emerick.  They had been together as lovers in another dimension, even if it was only a dream; it was real to each of them.  And here they were in person, as newly introduced acquaintances.

   Lucy gazed out the carriage window, watching the storm brew over the sea, and making small talk about the storm along the way to the guesthouse.  Martin said, “There’s the house just up the road,” as he pointed through the window toward it. 

  She caught eyes with Emerick and felt currents of electricity.  Yes, he senses that we’ve met before during that new moon.  She thought.   That dream.  And reality would bring them another blood moon dream later that evening.

As they approached the guesthouse, Lucy thought of Emerick as a Byron-ish Gothic handsome man, so striking in his top hat, and dark suit with the white collar.  She longed to see him again from underneath his shirt with the high collar, and to feel him once again beneath her skirts.  Because she knew what it was like.  She’d known him forever.

       They arrived at their destination. “Let’s all go inside before the rain comes!” Said Martin.

        Patrick, Jude, Ellis, and Murdoch all arrived in a carriage just behind them.  The blood moon was still shrouded by the overcast haze, and lightning started to crash through the thunderclouds.  Just as they stepped into the hallway entrance of the building, rain gushed down heavily all at once. 

       They all walked together down the hall over a red carpet runner that protected the well-kept wooden floors, to a great empty meeting room in the spacious guesthouse.  Martin lived in one part of the house filled with empty guestrooms and meeting rooms—perfect for this spiritual group to begin their work, and Cordelia, the housekeeper lived in another part of the guesthouse.

       They stood inside the cozy brick building with intricate wood detailing the moldings, doorframe, and walls. 

“What do you propose to contribute to the group then, Miss Adamson?”  Emerick’s hair was styled in a way she’d not seen before and she quite liked it.  Sort of romantic and rogue. 

       Lucy made no hesitation, “I imagine the same ideas to compliment your own and everyone else here,” she replied with an air of confidence and a hint of her intrigue with Emerick in particular.  “Shall we join the others round the fire to find out?”

        “After you,” he said, with his arm in gesture toward the rest of the men who were sitting in the large living room area.

Emerick remembered the dream as they sat around the fireplace sipping wine and gin, and talking about the plan for the next day.  Lucy and Emerick talked with everyone, and all became quite fond of the intellectual and mystical conversation.  Emerick and Lucy were in that room together, as if they’d known each other all their lives.  They shared a telepathic connection as they both remembered their fiery encounter.  In that other world, she didn’t know his name, but she knew him, and he her.  He had two bats tattooed on the side of his neck when they’d met in that dream.  Emerick kissed Lucy so intensely.  They held lips to each other, holding onto that kiss for a long time until they could no longer breathe, and then they kissed that way again.  They wanted the kiss to last because somehow, and wanted more after that so they wouldn’t break out of the dream.  The excitement between them kept building much like the storm outside.

       In that dream, Lucy told Emerick she didn’t think they would meet like that again, but that didn’t seem to matter.  He was glad for that moment, and focused their time together, even if it was in another dimension.  And they kissed that way again and again, and that is how the dream ended.  Leaving both of them hanging, longing to meet again and for what would happen next, to experience it, and to go back to that dream, that moment they shared.

       “Lucy, you look as though you’ve just had a chill,” said Martin as he approached them, “let me grab you a shawl from the closet.”

       “Oh, thank you Martin, I think it is just all of this discussion and excitement about our work together.  I so enjoy our conversation tonight,” she said, and started fanning herself with a nearby newspaper.  “As you can see, I’m actually quite warm!”  She said with excitement.  Emerick returned from the buffet, his face out of view of the others, and smiled at Lucy.  His eyes revealed desire, and she reflected a glance back without the others noticing, if they did, they would likely think it is due to the thrill of their discussions and work ahead of them.

     “I’m pleased to get on with this as well,” said Murdoch, as he took notes for an article he was going to publish in his paper.  And the others nodded their agreement.  Emerick took a seat beside Murdoch and the resumed the conversation.   And then Lucy and Emerick found themselves communicating back and forth with more than just glances and emotions passing between them.  They were having an actual telepathic conversation.
       “Lucy, can you hear me?”  Emerick said through his mind.

       Lucy’s eyes, wide in shock, glanced around her to see if anyone else was hearing this, or if she was perhaps going mad.

“Emerick?”  She said, surprised that she wasn’t actually speaking out loud, but through her thoughts.
       “Yes, it’s really me.  Look over at my right hand, I’ll rest my cheek on it and tap it three times, as if in deep thought.”  He smiled and looked at the fireplace.

Lucky looked over at him as Emerick watched the dancing flames, as he did what he’d “said”.  “Why can’t anyone else hear us?”  She said.

       “I don’t know, but I rather like this.  I know this may seem forward of me, but I think we know each other.  Do you want to meet later?  Perhaps, try to meet in our dreams again?”

       “Yes, I do Emerick.  Why is this happening, and why that dream, I wonder?”

       “I don’t know why Lucy, but I’m glad of it.”

       Thunder and lightning crashed; Emerick and Lucy were jolted out of their mind-reading connection.  They were both excited and disappointed until Martin offered another round of refreshments, and they all continued conversing into the midnight hour as the storm thrashed around outside.

       Lucy watched and listened as Emerick engaged in conversation with Patrick and Jude, regarding alchemy, dreams, spirits, the soul, and even time travel.  It was all so thrilling, but at the same time, she thought she’d probably imagined the entire clairvoyant conversation with Emerick, because all this talk of spirits and things they were all discussing, and getting caught up in the excitement.  

       Ellis Cross attempted to speak with Lucy, but she felt something was off about him, and was apprehensive about revealing anything to him, so she just said she was taking notes for tonight.  Martin jumped in to help, as he too, sensed something strange about Ellis.  “Ellis Cross, you are rather new to this are you not?  Why don’t you tell us all about how you came to be so interested and what you hope to learn and add to this group?  It would be so interesting to hear more about you.” 

Lucy nodded as she opened one of her books, and jotted down notes, taking the liberty of writing about Emerick, their shared dream, and questioning their conversation which no one else in the room could hear.   While Lucy and Emerick continued testing the thought transmission between them, she expressed her apprehension about Ellis.  Emerick told her that Murdoch was on to him, which put her somewhat at ease.

       Ellis shifted uncomfortably; the look on his face was blank the entire time, like a dead soul lurked inside of him.  He began to reply, “Well, as a landowner, and artist. . .”

       “Oh yes, do tell us about your art!”  Said Martin, his white hair striking in combination with his black suit.  He was in his early 70s, wise, but also young in many ways.

       Ellis’s coal-colored eyes grew a shade darker, and Lucy swore, the room felt cold for a moment, even with the blazing fire.  She watched Martin raise his hand, and it was as if a great force stopped the cold.  Ellis tried to recover and respond to the questions, but Martin shifted the night’s conversation, and completely shut Ellis down.  The housekeeper appeared with trays of savories for the crowd, and set them on a nearby table.   “Ah more late-night refreshments everyone,” said Martin.  He turned to her, “Thank you Cordelia, these look magnificent!”  Martin gave Cordelia an affectionate smile and, in turn she put her hand on his shoulder for a moment. 

       They broke the intense meeting to stretch, mingle, and eat.  Lucy moved to look out the window into the black rainstorm and listened to the ocean.  Emerick walked over to her as they all relaxed with their food, drink, and music, as Patrick played piano, and Martin played his fiddle. 

       “The ribbon on your dress is as blue-green as the ocean I just crossed,” said Emerick.  As their gaze met, their minds fused and they were back in that other world together.

Jude approached to have a look out the window behind them. “Pitch black, can’t see a thing!  And I haven’t heard the waves crash on the rocks out there that way in years,” said Jude. “Luckily, we’re high enough not to get the brunt of them,” he continued while adjusting his wire-rim spectacles. 

The clock struck 2:00 am.  Martin put his fiddle aside.  “It looks as though we’ll all be sleeping in tomorrow,” He said, as they gathered back around the fire in the meeting room.  Candles glowed behind them as they sat in leather chairs around a large wooden table, with Martin at the head, Lucy at his right side, followed by Patrick, and Murdoch.  Emerick sat to Martin’s left, followed by Ellis, and Jude. 

       The mysterious feeling about Ellis Cross that bothered Lucy, also bothered the rest of the group, but none of them mentioned it to each other.  What they didn’t know was that Ellis, and Lucy’s almost-fiancé, Charles, were good friends.  Charles, unbeknownst to Lucy, had Ellis act as a part of their group in order to spy on Lucy.  

       Charles and Ellis were part of a dark occultism.  Lucy was on to them, more than they knew.  She noticed Martin’s behavior toward Ellis during their conversations, and how Ellis just seemed rather rehearsed when he spoke.  She also noticed his large silver ring with a black sun wheel symbol that was probably meant to be show for the group, but she and the others knew more about what this symbol meant for Ellis.  Instead of a sun-worshipping feeling, a dark occult energy emanated from him.

They talked about what they would begin doing in the morning what each of them could add to their purpose, as they also used these skills to work together for a higher purpose over the next few months while they lived there, filling most of Martin’s empty guestrooms. 

       The all spoke of medicinal concoctions, or alchemy potions, ceremonies in their movement toward not just the paranormal spiritualist hype that was going on around them in the world, but of their own updated take on it all, and also and how to rid of evil.  At the mention of these topics, Lucy watched Ellis’s restlessness.

       Later that morning, Lucy sat by candlelight in her room at the top of the stairs listening to the rain, wind, lightning, and waves.  Unable to sleep, she wrote in her diary:

       We went to our rooms for the night. I should say, morning, as we’ve been up talking until almost 3:30 am.  Luckily, we all agreed to have a sleep-in, with a wake up time as we each please.  And then we will get to work tomorrow night.  I dare say these late nights might become a habit of ours, as we seem to share the same nocturnal inclinations.

         I can’t stop thinking about Emerick and our work ahead.  Occult, time travel, reincarnation, and never dying.  All related, not separate, but separate somehow.  Most aim to prove otherwise.  Our travel to another place, another world, and another time in that world?  Were Emerick and I on another world together in that dream?  A place like earth, but not earth?  I don’t think I imagined all of this tonight, our connection I mean. 

       I am a bit afraid to pursue a verbal conversation of it.  Even if we had met, I remember how I awoke from our passionate connection, and I am not sure what it means.  I must find out in case it is a bad sign.

       I woke with a fright when the dream switched to an unknown voice that said, “Peter, Peter pumpkin eater,” as the lines from the nursery rhyme came to me.  And I know it is an omen of not becoming Charles’ fiancé.  Something is trying to warn me and hold me back.  I am not sure what it is.  I just know that something isn’t right, and that our courtship is not even slightly remote to love, but one of a landowner’s arrangement.  I don’t even really know him; he certainly does not know me.  He has no idea I’m even here or part of this spiritual movement.  I don’t want him to know.  I told him I was going away on business.  And obviously, it’s none of his business if I am keeping it from him.

       In that moment, there was a knock on her bedroom door, or at least she thought it was.  She tiptoed over to the door and whispered, “Who’s there?”  And she realized at that moment, that it was only her imagination, and thought she must be overtired.  At the same time, she’d hoped to have a dream where she met Emerick once again, except it would be different now, not the same kind of mystery surrounding the last dream.

       As she closed her eyes, she swore she heard a whispering voice say, “See you in our dreams.” 

       That night, she only dreamt of Emerick for a moment.  He was on a large ship, one that she’d not recognized before; it looked of modern construction, one massive white ship tossed up and down in non-stop waves. 

       Then she saw the ship move through dense fog, a supernatural sort of fog, and then it was gone.  Emerick emerged out of the fog in a busy London street wearing odd looking glasses, some sort of shirt without a waistcoat, but rather a sweater, and looked quite out of place.  Then the dream switched to something that kept her thinking throughout the following day.

She dreamt of her almost fiancé, Charles’ house.  There was something dark about how she seemed to float toward the house, as if she were there, but not really there.  It was an overcast day, and the house looked dark and uninviting.  She kept drifting toward the house and inside of the house, realizing, she’d never stepped foot in there before, and she was about to become engaged to the person who owned it.  How could I be so foolish?  Blinded by his slight flirtation, if that’s what one called his intelligent business proposals designed to keep them both prosperous until death do they part.

       Lucy hovered through the front door, to the practically empty rooms, and she could hear hollow echoes because of the lack of furniture throughout.  She was gliding up his stairs, magnetized, as if something kept pulling her up there. 

She was curious but at the same time, didn’t want to know what she was going to see.  There was a closed door at the end of the hall, and when she tried to open it, it was locked.  Even in her dream, she couldn’t get through that door.  And she heard a woman’s cry from the other side; she knew it had to be his late wife warning her.

       Lucy jolted awake.  She got right out of bed, went to the dresser, poured water from the ornate pitcher into her washbowl, and splashed some on her face.  She went to the bedroom window, and pulled the heavy drapery aside just in time to see the storm clouds breaking away and sunlight through the shroud of overcast sky.  Although she hadn’t slept much, due to the late night with the group, she didn’t feel sleepy, especially after that nightmare about Charles’s place.  She dressed, and went downstairs to find the housekeeper, Cordelia (whom she suspected was also Martin’s lover), setting trays of tea and coffee in the dining room, along with platters of eggs, fruit, and pastries.  Cordelia said, “Good morning,” and then went back into the kitchen area busily going about her morning rituals.

       Lucy set out to walk along the cliff, as she looked along the horizon.  She breathed in the fresh sea air, and knew what she had to do.  The sky and sea were almost matching shades of blue.  She sat on a smoothed over part of the cliff, and decided to end her friendship with Charles immediately as soon as this conference was over, and  wished she could avenge is late wife’s death.  Such a cruel and sick man he was. Although Charles wasn’t her first and foremost focus now, rather, it was this current group, here by the sea.  The seven of them had agreed to meet in the hospital across the way, where there was a laboratory they’d convene with some of their concoctions. 

       She took in long soothing breaths, letting them out slowly, and reflected on everything right there as she listened to the waves with her eyes closed, enjoying the surrounding scents lingering in the air. 

       “I couldn’t sleep in either,” Emerick said.  “I missed you last night.”

Lucy opened her eyes, “Things didn’t turn out the way we had hoped,” she said as she shuddered at the memory of her nightmare.

“Sometimes it goes that way.  There were other things you needed to see and learn.  I saw them too.”

       “Won’t you join me?  It’s so lovely right here,” she took his hand, and they sat down on a large boulder overlooking the sea in silence.  They had both shared the vision of danger, rather than the dream they’d hoped to share. 

       “I’m be happy to sit with you Miss Lucy,” he said with a bit of a nervous edge to his voice.

       “I look forward to our meeting at the hospital this morning with the rest,” she said, her mind numb from what she realized about Charles, herself, and life overall, in just the past twenty-four hours or less.

       “We’ve met before,” said Emerick turning to her and gently holding her chin under his hand, as they not only looked into each other’s eyes, but into each other.  Waves from the sea below did their hypnotic crashing back and forth on the shore, still wild from last night’s storm, but the sky was clear blue, boats were bobbing on the sea, and seagulls sang their songs. 

       “Yes.  Yes we have.  It was more than a dream wasn’t it?”   Lucy replied in her thoughts to see if she had imagined their telepathic conversation only last night.

       Lucy and Emerick kissed as they’d kissed back in the dream before they even met each other.  As if they’d known each other forever.  And in a way, they had.  When they pulled away to take a breath and look into each other’s eyes, Emerick said back to her through his thoughts, “Yes, I do believe we’ve met before.”

       They both chuckled, and even blushed a little.  “But we have not met in person until last night.”

       “I suppose that depends on what we might consider as ‘in person’, as souls can travel in dreams and more,” he said,  “as you and I have experienced together”.  And then he reached into a small pocket in his waistcoat and pulled out a shiny silver coin with an engraving of George Washington on it, and the year 1999. 

       “A love token?”  Lucy asked.

       “In a way, yes.  Look at this coin, and you will see the distance you and I have traveled in our dreams to meet.  You saw the disappearing ship in your dream did you not?  You saw me travel across time in that dream.”

       She looked at him, and then down at the coin. It depicted George Washington, rather than Lady Liberty.  As she examined the coin and it’s date, Lucy nodded her understanding and unanswered mysteries of life all at once.  “I would say that this is unbelievable Emerick, but truly, it’s not.  You’ve come from the future obviously.  I suppose I might show shock, rather, I feel that a well of truth has finally opened up for both you and I, and perhaps the world.  Within all life’s mysteries, I feel relieved at some element of truth in it.  Perhaps there is benefit in all of this, decency within the universe, and a way we can use this ‘magic’ for a higher purpose.”

Emerick nodded as she continued, “Charles has been trying to win my approval for some time now.  I have not given in to him, but I think he believes I belong to him somehow,” said Lucy.  He’s widowed, I learned some terrible things, and I know he’s a demon, a sly, sociopathic demon.  I cannot let him know I’m here, and I need to get away, far away from him.  I want no contact with him ever again.  He’s dangerous.  I’m not afraid, I just know he is sinister, and there’s more to him than most know.  He has a way of keeping that secret, and only few can really see into him.”  A shiver came through her, not like the electric feelings she had for Emerick, but a cold, dark shuddering feeling.

       “Not to worry, Martin and I won’t let anything happen to you, and I know you sure as hell won’t either.  Pardon my words, but the anger rising in me tells me that we need to watch our every move here, you were uneasy around Ellis, were you not?  I could sense that immediately, I think we all know something is not right with him.”

       “Ellis!” Said Lucy, “He’s here spying for Charles.  It has to be.  He is here to do our party wrong, that’s why Martin did something to stop Ellis from finishing out his conversation with him last night.”

       “It’s almost time to go to meet the rest, let’s walk together, and make the most of this time with our group, whilst keeping a close eye on Ellis,” said Emerick.  They walked a path along the sea that led back onto the barracks and up to the hospital, a brick building, mainly for soldiers, and a few locals.  Dry air had moved in fast, as the colored leaves along the way crunched beneath them as they moved along.

       “Let’s meet tonight,” said Lucy, “but in person.  In my room when everyone has gone to bed.”  She blushed and smiled at him even though they had been long-time friends and lovers in another world. 

       The seven all met in the laboratory to discuss and demonstrate works of concoctions to heal the sick.  Gems to heal and guide, meditation, telepathy, dreams, supernatural, spirits, and more. 

       They broke later in the afternoon for lunch and some rest.  Martin, Jude, and Murdoch took a stroll by the ocean.  Ellis said he had some matters to attend to and went off in his carriage somewhere, saying, “I’ll be back this evening!”  He gave a forced smile and his voice was a bit shaky for such a confident landowner and supposed artist.  Although, no one in the group had actually seen his “art”, which was the art of darkness.

       Lucy, Martin, and Emerick, stayed behind, and decided to sit on a blanket covering the grass, overlooking the sea.   The autumn weather continued to fluctuate between cool days, and summer-like days as Earth was making its journey around the sun toward winter. Martin stared toward Ellis’s carriage watching it until it was out of sight. 

       “I’ll just come right out and say it,” said Lucy to the rest.   I get an uneasy feeling about Ellis.  Perhaps that’s unfair, as I don’t really know him.  Something just doesn’t feel right.” 

       Martin replied in a confident, yet warning matter, “You’re correct Miss Lucy.  I know all too well.  I gave him a chance to meet with us all, as I am trying to figure out what he’s really up to.  And how dare he wear that ring, unless he really thinks we don’t understand the symbolic meaning of it.  Perhaps he thinks we see it differently, as it is also a protection for him against the light.  He carries darkness within him.  Yes.  We will see to this later today.  I can only imagine what “business” he’s up to.  I don’t want you to be afraid Lucy, but I think it may have to do with you.”

       Lucy and Emerick told Martin about Lucy’s dream, about Charles, and Ellis, and they all shared an understanding of Emerick’s travels through time, and what Charles and Ellis were up to. 

       Later that day, Murdoch, being the journalist and publisher in the group, searched through past articles from his paper, and discovered that Ellis and Charles were good friends.  Charles’ wife had supposedly died of tuberculosis, but there were no clear signs of that.  It was told that she used to be very social, until she married Charles, and then never came out of the house again after that.  Something was very wrong here.

       Martin went to Lucy and told her of this.  She was enraged that they should be interrupted by such evil, but also glad to know the truth. What other lies were surrounding Charles and Ellis? 

It was decided; Emerick and Lucy would leave together before Ellis returned.  Quick arrangements were made.  They were all sad to end their gathering, but it was necessary, especially if they wanted to move forward with it in the future.

       Martin gathered the group together to make fast plans.  When Lucy was safe, the rest would have to conjure the whitest magic possible to ward of the evil of Ellis and Charles, and their dark occult practices.  They would have to be stopped.

Cordelia helped Lucy pack her belongings.  Emerick’s carriage was ready, as they didn’t want Ellis to think Lucy had left when he returned.  They would tell him that Emerick went back to London due to an emergency telegram.  And that Lucy was just lying down, if he asked.

       Meanwhile, Ellis had reached Charles in the next town over, and told him that Lucy was there at the barracks and what she was up to with occultism, spiritualism, and more.  How foolish of her, Charles had thought, and in his fury, was making a plan to find Lucy alone, and confront her “betrayal” to him.  In his mind, she was already “his”, but in reality there was no such commitment of the sort.

       Before Lucy stepped into Emerick’s carriage, she gave the rest of the group each a big hug, tears, and especially Martin.  “Be careful all of you, I will be in touch.”  Although she did not know how just yet,  “I don’t want to lose what we have started.”

Then, the coach made its way to the harbor, where the next ship about to embark on its journey across the ocean was waiting for them; taking Lucy and Emerick together forever.

       The next ship out carried them across the Atlantic Ocean, and into the mysterious fog, into another time, where Lucy and Emerick were together in another dimension, and never heard from again.

       Later that week, it had been revealed that Charles had indeed murdered his wife, kept her prisoner in that house until her death, and he was up to even more, and imprisoned for life, along with his side-kick, Ellis Cross. 

       And then he knew.  Martin and Cordelia, now in their late seventies, invited her in, and their work continued both in present time, and across parallel worlds. 

Although Lucy and Emerick never returned, about ten years later, a woman knocked on Martin and Cordelia’s door one day.  Martin opened the door, and there stood a woman who looked so familiar to him, but he just couldn’t believe it, until she said, “Hello Martin, you look exactly as my late parents described.  I’ve heard a lot about you.  You don’t know me yet, but you will.  I’m Lucy E. White.”  She smiled, “I’ve traveled a long way to work with you.” 

Published by Shawna Galvin

I’ve been writing in diaries, trying to form poetry and stories since I was a child. I was ten years old when I made my first attempt at writing fiction. The story involved unicorns, a magic ring, and two families that were great friends and trying to escape some sort of evil. No doubt, an escape of my own at an age when we start knowing that things in life (an not always our own, but throughout the world) can get bad. As I moved into adolescence, writing was therapeutic as I tried forming poetry, kept an account about life in general, vented, and wrote down song lyrics that spoke to me. I kept these notebooks beside, and under my bed. They were filled with musings, poems, and stories I had been working on since 5th grade. When I graduated high school and moved off to an unsuccessful first year at the University of Southern Maine (success as a college student and several degrees followed later–much later), I had my notebooks burned in my great grandfather’s teeny wood stove in Millinocket, Maine. I wish I still had those. I do, however, have many handwritten notes from that time to present day, along with my present writing. I look back into it and learn a lot about everything. ​I’m a writer of two novels (one in editing process), poetry, flash fiction, short stories, non-fiction, freelance articles, and I am also co-editor/publisher at Macabre Maine. Another blog site of mine is titled, Ghost of the Woods, which is dedicated to my late Uncle George, a Vietnam Veteran, poet, writer, amazing human being and soul. You can read more about him here and discover his poetry and more.

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