Forever and Always

She was right. The dogs led her right to the cache! Claire had an instinct about things like this, but these darn multi-level Geocaches by 'AerialElvinMagick' were off the charts in difficulty. Claire's two dogs, however, located the human scents, and led her directly to the cache. Some people must have been right on top of it, but got discouraged before locating this hidden gem. The Geocache chat pages read like a Rotten Tomatoes rating, on a B movie, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“This one began to drive me nuts. After 4 hours, I gave up.”

“I started to wonder if this one was even there! My truck died, so I’ll have to come back another day.”

Claire dug into the old, decaying tree, which revealed a tiny, green, wooden military box. The letters on the side were worn, and the box smelled old. Containing her excitement, Claire slowly opened the lid. A single black Moleskine notebook was the only contents the box revealed.

“What the heck? No notepad with names… no pen… no diamonds!” Claire muttered to the trees.

Claire had been hopeful that this cache, given its difficulty, contained treasures, untold. There were many rumors about Geocaches containing diamond rings, tickets to exotic lands, and precious metals. Maybe there were more clues hidden in the manuscript. Struggling to open the pages, Claire realized this book was brand new. Calligraphic writing adorned the first page. Claire shivered as she registered what she saw, forcing her to drop everything carefully balanced in her hands.

It read “Congratulations, Claire. Now take me home with you.”

Keira and Aelwen, Claire’s beautiful malamute pups ran with her, as she rushed to the comfort of her home. Slamming her bedroom door, Claire immediately texted Ally.

Ally was at least a foot shorter than Claire, and everyone thought she was Claire’s younger sister. In fact, Ally was about 6 months older than Claire.

“You’ve got to come over immediately” the text read. Obeying her friend, Ally showed up 10 minutes later to a white knuckled teenager, trembling at the end of her bed, clutching a black book.

“Ally, the book.. it’s… well… writing itself!”

“Claire, what are you talking about?”

“You know those 'AerialElvinMagick' Geocaches? I’ve been doing pretty good with them, so I finally decided to go after the hard one called ‘Forever and Always’. I, legit, found it! I mean, Keira and Aelwen helped, but…. Well… There was no log of names in the cache, and there weren’t any little prizes for finding it. just this notebook. Ally… read it.”

Ally looked very confused. Opening the book to the first page, after Claire’s welcome, the calligraphic scribbles went on to read:

“Now that Ally is here, find Sherman’s barn. Hurry! He’s coming!”

“Very funny, Claire” Ally mocked.

As their eyes met, the haunting resolute stare proved dedication to task, and Ally quietly turned to begin the quest with her friend.

Sherman’s barn was on the outskirts of town. It was an unseasonably cool evening, and the cicadas were singing their familiar song. Claire repeatedly opened the book, reading the calligraphic script as it appeared on each page. It was a shallow dig that revealed a large brown duffle, aged and worn, but still concealing and protecting the contents. Scrambling to open it….

“It’s money, Claire. A lot of money! There must be at least $20,000 in there! What the heck? What is going on, here?”

“I don’t know, Ally. I swear! This is really str…”

The cicadas had been deafening this late in September, and it was common to find yourself shouting to be heard. But at this moment, there was silence. No birds. No rustling sounds of wind. Nothing. The girls listened intently, stunned.

As a cold breeze brushed the adolescents’ cheeks, the smell of death scented its bluster. Claire and Ally looked around. There must be a carcass in the vicinity. A slight rumble revealed the unpredictability of Southeast Kansas weather. The silence was broken by a scream.

Wait.

A scream?

Or was that a bird?

As Claire opened the book, in large black letters, it read:

“Run!”

Without a word, the two girls ran the distance home, in what seemed to be hours, all while that familiar feeling of being followed tormented them. Clutching the filthy bag, Claire tore through her house, closely accompanied by Ally, and slammed her bedroom door.

“What is happening, Claire? Where did that money come from? How is the book….”

“I don’t know, Ally!” cried Claire “I just open it and…” Tears began rolling down the usually rosy cheeks, as Claire opened the book.

“Don’t cry, Pumpkinhead” read the lovely script.

Claire slammed the book, and succumbed to her emotions. Ally threw her arms around her best friend, and read the manuscript.

“It’s your Gramma, Claire? Is this your Gramma?”

“Ally, she’s the only one who ever called me that. I was so upset with her when I found out Pumpkinhead was a monster… but then we laughed and… 'AerialElvinMagick'! Of course! Gramma loved the stories about the Aerial Elves. The ones that can fly, like faeries. And Magick is the actual way to spell the word that means real magick. I can’t believe this is happening!” Claire impulsively opened the black notebook.

“Honey, there’s things I forgot” it read. “That duffle was one of them. But now... Now I can see everything.”

Ally seized the notebook from Claire’s hands. “This is happening because of the old spell journal we found in the attic, isn’t it, Claire? That night we lit the candles… you didn’t stop at those first spells… Oh Claire! The book warned not to look past the front pages! The dark arts chapters were supposed to be off limits! But you did it, didn’t you? You conjured a way to talk with Gramma Maggie, didn’t you? You know that opening the veil can be dangerous. What if we pulled something else through? Claire, we need to stop this. I don’t feel comfortable.”

“I don’t care, Ally! I miss Gramma!!” Claire snatched the book from her friend, and began devouring the words.

It read:

“Back when I was little, Bonnie and me was friends. I didn’t know we was doing anything wrong, Claire. You’ve got to believe me. But after Clyde and her got killed, I guess I forgot. The old fillin’ station was out by Cherryvale, and I was real scared of him... Bonnie’s cousin, Raymond, had this friend. Real mean guy. He wasn’t nice to any of us. I didn’t know that them folk were hurting people. Bonnie was just pretty and real nice to me.

And, like I said, I was just a little girl, honey. So, when that policeman came askin’, I lied to him. I knew where they was, but I didn’t want Bonnie caught.

Pumpkinhead, I was with them when they buried this money. They was killed the next day, so I guess I was the only one who knew. I guess the whole thing left my mind when they all got killed.

But Raymond’s friend knew, and he died that day, too. He was into some bad hoodoo. And he’s mean, baby. He’s real mean.”

Ally and Claire froze on the last words. The attic was just above them, and no one ever ventured up there. Spiders alone were adequate sentries. Finding the spell book in Gram’s antique chest, weeks ago, was a challenging venture, between cobwebs and imagination. The recognizable thump of booted footfall was uncommon above Claire’s room. Yet, there it was. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Abruptly, a thundering clash of collapsing, discarded artifacts of previous years shook the ceiling with such fervor that small chunks of plaster fell on the soft, blue carpet.

Then, silence… an uneasy silence - the kind of feeling that you get just before the big tornado touches down. Claire and Ally held their breath.

As the girls sat, glued to the floor by fear, staring at the ceiling, a faint sound cut the silence. Was someone moaning? Crying? Screaming?

The bedroom door flew open and both girls fell against the bedrail, hard. As Ally turned to look at Claire, she saw the thick, worn, discarded spell journal hidden under Claire’s bed. Before thinking, Ally snatched it and flew down the stairs, to perch in front of the fireplace.

“No! Ally, don’t! It might be what is connecting me with Gram!” Claire cried, as she followed Ally, but her voice was drowned by the unearthly wailing.

Ally threw the spell book into the fire that Claire’s Mom had lit hours earlier. Mere embers remained, until the tome touched the flame. A violet blaze rose from the cinders, like a phoenix from the ashes. As the fire consumed the thick, tattered cover, the old journal opened to the dedication page, where it read “Use this book wisely, forever and always, Gram”.

As the astonished girls stared, an abrupt pressure change scourged the air, and the accompanying shock wave sent the two girls into the coffee table, a few feet away.

Then, stillness.

Both girls took a deep breath, sighing their relief, in unison.

“What the heck was that, Claire? I told you that we could have brought something else back!”

“I think that was that guy” Claire spat. “The one Gramma was talking about? That Raymond’s friend guy?”

“Let’s ask her.”

Claire opened the small, black book, that was now bent and worn, from the teenager’s grip. The page simply read:

“He’s still here.”

Ally’s hair moved slightly, as though someone blew on it. The heat of wretched breath stung the back of the girl’s neck. It smelled. Death hung in the air, like wet fabric on an old clothes line, molding in the stillness.

Ally stopped breathing. Fear gripped her eyes, but she could not move. She cried out, silently to Claire, through blue, oxygen deprived lips.

“Ally!! What’s happening?” Claire shook Ally. “You let her go!! YOU LET HER GO!!!”

Ally looked down at the black book. Claire’s eyes followed.

“You’ve got to burn me, too” the book read.

“Gramma!! No! Please! I don’t want to lose you!” wept Claire.

“Pumpkinhead, I’m always with you.”

With those last words, Claire leapt toward the flames, tossing the book into the hearth.

She swore she heard a deep, guttural “No!” and then it was quiet.

As though waking from a trance, both girls paused and then embraced each other firmly, sobbing.

In the distance, they began to hear the muffled sound of dogs, barking madly. A familiar voice faded into their existence.

“What is going on?” questioned the voice. “I heard noises, crashing, and the dogs are losing their minds.”

Mom was slowly descending the stairs, with a confused look on her face. As she rushed to the teens, still huddled on the floor - scorched hair - sitting among the rubble of what once was a very pretty, colonial style coffee table, Ally leaned to whisper in Claire’s ear.

“How are we explaining the money?”