Steve Cash - The Meq

“Mowsel,” Opari whispered.

“Mowsel, indeed,” Daphne said.

Willie had slowed the big car down and was making a series of tight turns. It was becoming more and more difficult for me to lie still and continue to feign sleep. Opari started to say something, then stopped. I knew what she was thinking. So did Geaxi.

“I believe Opari is wondering how you learned of us, Daphne,” Geaxi said.

“Oh, my dear,” Daphne said, her voice rising a full octave. “I never would have if it hadn’t been for my nephew. You see, my maiden name is Bramley. My nephew is Owen Bramley. He brought Mowsel to me. He brought all of you to me, and you have all saved my life.

“My wonderful husband, William, who always believed in miracles, by the way, died suddenly after our long return from China. I was not prepared for the emptiness that came after. My children were all grown and gone, even Willie was away at school in Canada. Caitlin’s Ruby became for me a beautiful prison, a beautiful prison with generations of memories for bars. I was completely lost, heartbroken to a point I thought not possible. Even old Tillman Fadle, Caitlin’s last direct descendant, couldn’t cheer me out of it. Then one day, quite by surprise, my prodigal American nephew returned. My goodness, what a day that was. He told me the most outrageous and lovely story about his recent life and an old Jewish man named Solomon J. Birnbaum.

“There were two children with him who looked as if they were related. What lovely children I remember thinking, so quiet and well behaved. They were introduced to me by name — Geaxi first, then a boy with a missing front tooth that became apparent when he greeted me and smiled. Mowsel. Not only did the oldest Bramley myth and legend become flesh and blood, but my spirit lifted and soared, almost as if William was saying to me, ‘See, you old fool, there are miracles!’

“Owen went on to tell me Solomon’s plan of communication and safe passage and a little of what would be required of me and Caitlin’s Ruby. In a way, I was reborn to this life and its mysteries. Old Tillman Fadle had always preached that someday we would know why Caitlin sold her ruby to live in a place so remote and lonely. ‘Wait and see,’ he always said. ‘Wait and see.’ He was right, as was my husband and, of course, that dear man I never knew, Solomon J. Birnbaum.”

Just then, Willie came to a near halt and I felt the car turning and angling downward. My eyes were still closed, but I was wide awake.

“My goodness,” Daphne said. “We are here at last.” There was a tap on the glass from the front seat and Daphne added, “That lovely child is pointing for us to look at something.” I knew she meant Star and I remained silent, but I could feel Opari tense slightly and lean forward.

“Where?” Geaxi asked.

“There,” Daphne said quickly. “Just ahead, do you see? There ahead of us, by the gate, a man with his arms spread. He’s waving, I believe. Dear me,” she said and paused. “He looks like a scarecrow come to life.”

I rose up as if I’d been struck by lightning. Only Daphne was startled.

“Hello,” she said. “You are Zianno, I presume.”

“Yes, I—”

Willie braked hard and stopped the car. “That must be the man old Tom was going on about,” he shouted back through the glass.

I glanced at Daphne’s blue eyes and she smiled. The smile was friendly, childlike, angular, and wide. All the lines on her face had to move and make room for it.

“Zezen! Look ahead!” It was Geaxi. “Do you know that man?”

I leaned forward and looked through the glass. Up front, both Willie and Star were staring ahead, straining to see the figure approaching. Willie was gripping the wheel and Star had Caine inside her jacket, holding him close. I followed their eyes to a man standing in the middle of the road, not twenty yards away, between two stone pillars and an open gate — the entrance to Caitlin’s Ruby. He was wearing a long trenchcoat and trying to wave, but he kept losing his balance and stumbling forward. There was only a light mist falling, yet his gray hair and mustache were soaking wet. I thought he was alone when suddenly a woman and a girl appeared from behind the pillars. They ran toward the man, but the woman fell before she reached him. The girl helped the woman to her feet, then caught the man just before he buckled. The girl then stood between the two, holding them upright, and stared back at us.

“My goodness, who are they?” Daphne asked.

I was certain I knew the girl, but I had to look twice before I recognized the man and woman. They had both aged since I’d seen them last.

“It’s Nicholas,” I said.

“And Eder,” Geaxi said, reaching for the door and opening it.

“Who is the young one?” Opari asked.

“Nova,” Geaxi and I said, then climbed out of the big car together.

I’ve never been much of a philosopher on the “why” of things. To me, it’s just a part of the game, never the game itself. I have always been fascinated, however, with the “when.” Synchronism, coincidence, luck, fate — all are words for that place in time where the rules change and, whether we like it or not, so do our lives.

Geaxi and I ran and got to them first. The mist had settled and it seemed abnormally calm. Willie and Star were close behind and Willie rushed past me to pick up Nicholas, who had passed out completely just before we reached him. I knelt down to help and Eder saw my face.

“Zianno,” she whispered, then slipped after Nicholas into unconsciousness.

Star leaned over to look at the stricken man and woman. She had no idea she was staring at her own father. As she bent down, she held the back of Caine’s head with the palm of her hand. Nova made a quick move and stepped in front of her.

“Keep the baby away from them!” she said sharply. Her voice was clear and precise, not angry or demanding, but something was visibly wrong. She looked quickly at Geaxi and glanced at me. “Keep the others away,” she said quietly, “and help me, please, they’re very sick.”

The light was fading by the moment and I thought I saw another man approaching with a lantern. No one else seemed to notice.

“Who are they?” Star asked. Her eyes were wide and frightened and she instinctively held Caine tighter, straightening up and backing away. “And who are you?”

Nova looked a little frightening herself. Her hair was short and black and parted in the middle with bangs across her forehead. She had some sort of oil in it, which created an odd sheen in the mist and fading light. She wore heavy eye makeup, unusual I thought for any twelve-year-old, but especially for the Meq, and it was dripping down her face like black tears.

“You’re Star, aren’t you,” Nova said. It was more statement than question.

“Yes.”

“And that is your child?”

“Yes.”

Nova looked at Caine’s dark, curly hair peeping through Star’s fingers. “Take him inside. The two of you must stay clear of these two,” she said, nodding at Nicholas and Eder.

“Why did you say the word ‘him’?” Star asked. “How did you know my baby is a boy?”

“I. I just knew.” Nova bent down and put Eder’s limp arm around her own shoulder. As she did, she said softly, “Please, you must back away. My name is Nova. We’ll talk later.”

Suddenly Opari was in the middle of all of us. She looked at Nicholas and Eder, then pulled their eyelids back and ran her finger over their lips, which were turning purple and blue. “This is a virus,” she said, then looked at me. “They are dying.”

Daphne arrived just in time to hear Opari’s last words. She was slightly out of breath and gasped, “It is. Spanish flu. took three souls yesterday in Falmouth. we thought it. came home with the soldiers, but my goodness. ’tis everywhere.”