Soul Inheritance (2 page)

“
What in the hell is wrong with me?” Closing the mirror back she stared down at the sink, hesitant to look at her own reflection. “This is ridiculous.” She faced the glass.

Nothing but the bright walls, the dolphin motif and her own pale face waited. Leaning on the sink she ran her hand over her forehead pushing the hair from her face. A thick wet substance oozed between her fingers. Blood soaked the edge of the hairline and the purple foreshadowing of a bruise was already beginning to show. With shaking hands Katherine cleaned the gash, tears sliding down her face.

“
I mustn’t panic. Be reasonable. You just hit your head when you fell. That’s it, you just hit something.” Even as the shaky words escaped in a hoarse whisper she knew there was nothing there to hit. The dreams were becoming more than a lack of sleep. They were becoming threatening, real in a way that she didn’t quite grasp.

A chill took hold as the familiar eeriness of unseen eyes emerged. She threw the bloodied towel in the hamper.

“
What the hell are you waiting for? What do you want?!” she cried to the still, white walls, the dolphins that mocked her, the cold ceramic sink, the tear soaked reflection.

The adrenalin rush was beginning to wear off and she found that she just didn’t care anymore. There was obviously nothing she could do about it. The couch was soft and comforting as she curled up; pulling a Dallas Cowboys throw tightly around her.

Early the next morning Nigel came clamoring through the apartment. After making enough noise to wake the dead – and getting no response – he went to the couch and shook Katherine’s shoulder.

“
Hey, your damn clock’s been going off for an hour. If you’re not going to sleep in there, don’t set the fucking thing. It's Saturday, damn it.”

Katherine stirred, rolled away from the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

“
Hey, don’t we have that carnival thing with your dad today?” He perked up, shifted back to the friendlier attitude he took when he wanted something. “What time do we have to be there to pick him up?”

Reluctantly Katherine put her feet to the floor and sat up. The mention of her father gave her a reason to get up. Every year he took her to the carnival for her birthday. It happened that the same group came through in late summer at almost the exact same time like clockwork. Even when she was a child he would scrape to take her and they would spend the whole day, riding the rides, playing games and just spending time together.

It had always been just the two of them and they’d made the most of it. She rarely thought about her mother. There was only one picture of the woman, lovingly framed and always kept in the living room. If it weren’t for that Katherine wouldn’t have known she looked nothing like her, but instead took on the traits of her father, Mitch, almost exclusively. The years had passed by quickly enough with Katherine thinking her mother had died in a car accident when she was one. It was only after her twenty-first birthday her father had filled his daughter in on the rest of the story. When she’d gone on a crusade to find him a wife to fill his now empty townhouse and even emptier days.

With a great deal of hesitation Mitch had sat her down on the plush couch in his neatly kept home to explain why he never remarried.

“
Your mother didn’t just die in a car accident, Kathy. She was running away.”

It took a moment to sink in. “Running away from what?” she’d asked, not quite understanding the desperation on his face.

“
With another man, Kathy. She was running away from responsibility, from
this
family
, with a guy she’d been seeing.”

The emphasis he placed on ‘this family’ was evident, but it wasn’t the time to ask and it never presented itself. Katherine found nothing wrong with her family, except maybe that the two of them was all there was.

For the first time she realized the blanket she was wrapped in smelled. Tossing it aside she made her way to the bathroom. The hot water ran over her for a long time, easing sore muscles and fatigue. Once it began to get cold she cut off the faucet and climbed out into the steam filled room, thankful for the fogged over mirrors.

Nigel was milling around in the bedroom, slamming drawers, obviously getting dressed to go out. Two years ago had been the first time they’d included anyone else in their father-daughter plans. Mitch had asked Nigel to go along. It was both surprising and disappointing. Her father explained later he thought she needed to start looking for companions other than him, ‘just in case’. That disturbed her even more, but she took it with a smile and didn’t ask.

Even then she had doubts about Nigel. He was handsome and popular and she wasn’t sure what his interest in her was exactly. Lately, though, she began to realize his reasoning. It was simple enough. The florist shops made her an asset and a target. He contributed less and demanded more over time. At first she wasn’t inclined to complain, at least she wasn’t alone. It was gradual, dawning on her only when he quit his job and she found herself supporting them both, with his expenses far outweighing her own. Once he dug in and thought his situation to be secure, he grew arrogant and self-involved.

Lately Katherine had started to think more in the long term. What was she doing with her life, where was she going, where did she want to go? As he grew petulant the threats became borderline physical. Any time he began to question his hold he became more obsessive. Where had she been, what had she been doing? Trying to account for her every movement when he wanted to feel in control. He mistook indecisiveness for weakness and while she avoided confrontation, she was anything but weak. Veiled threats like last night on the balcony were quickly bringing her to the conclusion Nigel and this farce of a life was an anchor to be shed.

Katherine surveyed herself in the mirror as she hooked silver droplets into each ear lobe. Besides the noticeable bruise and circles around her eyes she was fairly pleased. In the last month she must have lost fifteen pounds and that was never a bad thing. Her long, dark hair framed a fair, oval face and spilled halfway down her back in loose curls. The circles served to darken her green eyes.

Jeans and a blue shirt finished off the look as she turned from the mirror and slid on white leather sandals with silver decorations of moons and stars. Taking a deep breath she went to the table by the door and gathered her keys and purse.

Nigel strode from the kitchen, raised his eyebrows, looking her up and down. “You’re going like that?”

Jaw clinched Katherine swallowed hard. “And just what does that mean? It’s going to be hot and sticky and I’m going to be comfortable. If you don’t like how I look you can just stay here, or better yet, go find one of your friends to hang out with. I’d love some time alone with Dad.”

Nerves tingling, half expecting him to reach out and grab her by the throat, she turned and stormed out, slamming the door.

Once she reached the end of the hall Katherine hesitated. There was something about riding in an elevator lined with mirrors that was unsettling. After thinking about it she pushed open the door to the stairwell and started the descent, humming as she made her way down fourteen flights of twisting, rubber coated steps. It was time to pull her head out of the sand and tell Nigel to take a hike. The finality of it felt right, gave her a sort of peace in the chaos. When she emerged at the bottom she was disappointed to find him waiting by the hunter green Jeep.

The fifteen minute trip to her father’s townhouse dragged by in awkward silence. Mitch was waiting on the steps when they pulled up. He rose and walked toward the car with a smile on his long, lean face. The strong, independent, kind man Katherine had always known lifted the cloud that had settled on the way over. Thoughts of the dreams, of the long nights over the last month dissipated with his spunky demeanor. His hair had been silver-white ever since she could remember, but his brown eyes held an eternal youth that had never wavered.

“
Hey there, how’s my girl?” He kissed her on the cheek through the open car window, then stood back and studied her face. Without asking he got in the back seat.

“
How are ya, Mitch?” Nigel glanced over the seat to look at him as he was settling in, fiddling for the seatbelt buckle.

“
Fine.”

Katherine glanced in the rear view mirror in time to catch the hostile look her father directed at Nigel, who had already turned away. They rode in silence to the fair grounds at the edge of town, inched through slow moving traffic, and finally turned into the rough field that served as overflow parking.

Mitch got out and opened the door for Katherine while she was gathering her things.

“
Are you alright?” he asked, taking her hand as she slid out of the vehicle, his voice low and concerned.

“
Yeah, Dad. I’m fine. We’ll talk about it later, over dinner,” she spoke hurriedly, “Nigel’s going out with the boys tonight.”

“
Well, you two gonna stand there all day?” Nigel said, picking his way over the ruts in the field.

Mitch gave him a hard look. A gentle squeeze of his arm signaled him not to jump to conclusions. At first he had liked Nigel, but he hadn’t failed to see how his attitude toward his only daughter had changed.

“
Come on Dad, what should we do first?” They walked arm in arm over the uneven ground. When Nigel reached for the other hand she was able to avoid him by leaning toward her father. With a huff he ended his efforts.

The three of them stood in the long, hot line. The air was thick and muggy and her exhaustion showed with every bead of sweat that worked to wash away her carefully placed makeup. Finally making it to the narrow ticket window Katherine peered through the grimy Plexiglas.

“
Three adult all day tickets.”

A short, stout man peered back at her through the small hole in the glass. He seemed somehow familiar, though she didn’t know why. Nigel stepped in, took her arm, moved her to the side.

“
Thirty-two dollars,” the short man grumbled, stretching toward the hole to be heard. Nigel paid and was immediately lost in the crowd.

“
Did he finally get a job?” Mitch asked, brows raised.

“
No, he didn’t.” Katherine wondered how much he’d taken out of the ATM this time and made a mental note to cancel the card on Monday. “That’s okay; let him enjoy it while he can,” she smiled at her father, who smiled back.

“
It’s about time.”

The crowd moved them toward the turnstiles and up to the red aluminum gates that flanked each side of the ticket booth. There Mitch offered up his hand to be stamped. Katherine followed suit as she had every year since she could remember. An icy, wet hand grasped hers tightly. Startled she shifted her attention from her father to the long fingers, gray with talon like claws. The stamp held in its other hand dripped of a thick red liquid, much like her head the night before. Strangely it was not the claw that alarmed her, but the sight of blood.

“
What the hell…” she looked up to see the face from the night before, but only for a moment. As she backed into the person behind her the view changed. It faded like the dreams sometimes did. The image morphed and warped until it transformed into a tall, thin man with a mustache and goatee. He glared belligerently at them.

“
Come on lady, it’s just a little ink for Christ’s sake. It washes off.” He gave a grunt, roughly pressed the stamp into the back of her hand and let go. “Next.”

Katherine stumbled forward with help from an impatient Italian-looking woman.

“
Are you okay? We don’t have to do this today, honey.” Mitch took her by the arm, pulled her out of the flow of traffic.

“
No, I’m okay. Just a little tired, that’s all. I haven’t been sleeping. And I’ve been…” she looked back at the attendant, then to her father.

Mitch’s brow furrowed. “Been?”

“
Well, I’ve been seeing things,” she paused. “You know, in dreams, while I’m sleeping. It causes me not to sleep good. Afraid I’ll dream I guess, or, or…” she realized she was rambling.

“
What kind of dreams?”

Katherine stared blankly. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but rational acceptance of what must sound irrational was not it.

“
Can we talk about this over dinner? Please, I just need to have a good time with my Dad.” The suck up almost always worked. Mitch studied her before he answered.

“
Just tell me one thing first.”

Shrugging she looked up into the eyes of a concerned father.

“
I’ve never known you to lie to me. Not even as a kid. Don’t start now.” She shot him an indignant look. “Did Nigel do this?” He swept her carefully arranged hair aside, gently stroked his thumb over the edge of the bruise and winced at the gash.

“
No, Dad. He didn’t.” From his expression she thought he’d been hoping it had been Nigel. It seemed strange, but she took her father’s hand and smiled weakly. “This is our thing. Every year we do this and have a blast. Nothing’s gonna ruin it. You never know when it might be the last time.” A strange, puzzled expression crossed her face as she looked into her father’s eyes. “Oh, God, dad. I don’t know why I said that.”