Cursed Waters

13

"I think I should tell you a story." At the sound of Miss Tully's voice, Millie tensed up. The old woman was giving her an even, level stare. There wasn't a hint of pity — but empathy, and because of that, Millie found herself sitting up straighter. "Your mom probably never explained the curse to you, did she?"

"No," Millie said, shaking her head. She leaned down and grabbed her bag off the floor, and pulled out the newest diary. "She doesn't even talk about it much in here. This is the last one before she died."

Miss Tully regarded the diary for a moment before she jerked her chin toward Brandon. "Be a dear and look it over for me, Brandon. I think this story goes better without an audience."

Silently, almost solemnly, Brandon took the diary from Millie's hand and strode out of the room, his feet barely making a sound. He disappeared behind the dining room wall, and Millie heard a chair being pulled out, and someone sitting down. At the crack of a book opening, Millie slid her eyes to Miss Tully.

While she was feeling a little bit wary of handing off one of the few connections she had to her dead mother to a witch that didn't like her very much, she also knew she probably had to make some compromises if she wanted Miss Tully's help.

"So," Millie said. "A story?"

"I've never heard the full account from one person," Miss Tully replied, shrugging her shoulders as she folded her hands in her lap, twining her gnarled fingers together. "But I've heard different parts from different people over the years. Mind you, there will be some gaps in the story, since I don't have every detail. But this is what I have managed to gather." Miss Tully seemed to hesitate. "Are you sure you want to know this?"

"I have to know what happened."

"But once you do know, there is no going back."

Millie grimaced. "I don't think I can ever go back."

Miss Tully seemed to nod, conceding.

"A long time ago," she started, "a Clearwater met a Drake. I'd like to say that I know more about the two, but honestly, I don't know much about how they met or about what their relationship was like. It wasn't love at first sight, as I'm sure the families would like to tell it, but it was love of some kind. The boy, John Drake, could not seem to keep himself away from Moira Clearwater." Miss Tully smiled in a sad, disgruntled sort of way. "She was a lot like you, as I'm told, although at the time, she was just surly — she didn't have a curse hanging over her as you do."

Millie leaned forward, propping her chin in her hand as she watched Miss Tully look everywhere but at her. The old lady looked pale, her milky blue eyes glinting in the light.

"I'll spare you the details of their love affair; it was all run of the mill, cloak and dagger, secret rendezvous stuff. Moira was betrothed to a very rich local man, but she was deeply in love with John, whose family was quite poor. They went to their parents and told them they were in love, and that they wanted to be together. The Drake family gave their blessing, but the Clearwaters refused to accept this, and told the Moira that by the next night, she would be married."

At this part, Miss Tully rolled her eyes. She reached up, smoothing her hair back from her face, and sighed.

"Now, this is where it gets interesting," Miss Tully said, straightening her spine. "The Drakes helped their son and the Moira plan an escape. They were idealists, I suppose, and thought that love and happiness should prevail over money. Their escape should've happened without a hitch — they would load up their belongings and escape in the dead of the night, but something went wrong."

Millie found herself looking forward, lost in the story, almost picturing the grim scene as if she were in a movie theater. She could see a reddish-blonde haired girl and a tall, dark haired boy, trying to escape when no one was watching, because they loved each other — because it was what was right — and then...

"I can't explain or tell you why they were up there, but as I'm told, John's mother looked out the window of their home and through the darkness, she could make out two figures on top of the cliff — the one adjacent your home. A third figure joined them and, in the midst of an argument, a girl was either shoved or jumped off the cliff, into the water below."

Millie sat back suddenly, surprised by the gruffness of Miss Tully's voice and the horror of the story.

She knew exactly what cliff Miss Tully was talking about.

The last time she'd been there, she was six years old and was in the backseat of her parents' car. They kept talking about someone meeting us here, don't worry, sweetie, don't cry, it'll be okay, and it was raining pretty hard and then, a crack, a scream, and there was nothing beneath Millie's car anymore, and they were weightless and heavy at the same time and falling down, straight down.

"From what the woman saw, it seemed that the third person had immediately backed away before turning and running and then the last figure standing on the cliff jumped into the water. The next morning, John and Moira washed up on the shores."

Millie tried to imagine Mrs. Drake watching all this, having no clue that it was her son and the love of his life. She tried to imagine shaking her head and turning away from the window, only to wake up the next morning to find out that her son and his love had died while she watched.