Judith Goodhope || Mother's House of Horrors

Lakeside

"Here," Kris handed Judith a cup of tea they had poured from the thermos.

"I'm ok for now. It's not that cold out." Judith looked out over the misty surface of Dour Lake.

"Drink it, please." That penetrating stare. "The cold, like many things, sneaks up on you when you let your defenses down."

Judith, caught in Kris Kent's eyes, took the cup and sipped. Kris blended their own teas. And would not share their recipes, no matter how many times Judith asked. This one certainly warmed the mouth and throat, with cinnamon, clove, but every one of Kris's teas had the same dark undertaste.

"I thought you said she'd been seen at the Harbour." The tea did help, Judith had to admit. It had been raining off and on since she had arrived in town. At the moment, a kind of half-rain was half-falling and half just hanging in the air. And Kris was right, of course, the moment you stopped thinking about it, the cold crept up on you. "Why are we here instead?"

Kris had led Judith to a ratty old dock in a secluded cove. A busier Harbour area did exist. They had passed by it during one of their canvasses the other day. The lake was large enough to support a lot of boats and recreation, though there were warning signs all over. (Was the lake safe or not?)

"This was our spot growing up. Sophie and I came here all the time."

"Did whoever reported seeing her give any other information? Did anyone talk to her? Did they see where she was going or anything like that?"

"No. I will have to be honest, Judith. I did not expect to just come here and find my sister. I do not expect to find her at all, in fact."

"But if someone saw her...?"

"People see many things in this town."

"Then why did we come out here if you didn't expect to find her?"

"In the first place, I do not know everything, Judith. I am always open to being surprised. And secondly, I needed a few things."

Kris moved off the dock to the shore and to Judith's horror began to step into the water. For the first time, Judith noticed they were wearing tall rubber muck boots. She stood silent and concerned as Kris waded into the water, pulling on long rubber gloves as well.

"There is a certain weed that grows in here that is very effective for certain medicines."

"Medicines?"

"Just keep drinking your tea..."

Judith sipped her tea despite a new sense of revulsion and worry growing in the pit of her stomach.

Kris bent over and dipped a protected hand into the lake, extracting a dark green seaweed-looking frond, lifting it to their nose, sniffing and examining it.

As Judith finished the tea in the thermos cup, she looked across the lake.

"Is that Primrose?"

Across the lake, a woman-presenting shape in gray came out of the trees and walked directly into the water.

Kris glanced up and said, "Oh. Probably," and went back to their work.

Primrose, or whoever it was, didn't dive or swim or even remove her clothing. She just walked straight into the lake until she was underwater and out of sight. Judith stared. And stared.

"She isn't coming up. She isn't coming up!"

"Here, try this." Kris was beside her, suddenly out of the water and beside her, offering her a wet frond of lakeweed.

"No! Kris, she hasn't come out of the water!"

The stare. "Eat this, Judith."

"I... I don't like the way you look at me," Judith managed to say, while taking the lakeweed into her mouth, chewing and swallowing. It had almost no flavor, or maybe she had been blocked from being able to taste it, or maybe it tasted so like the tea she just didn't notice the difference. "Something is wrong, Kris."

"I know."

Judith woke in her room at the Library to a window-shaking peal of thunder.

I need a card. I need a card now.

The lights were off, and the night had come. Where was the lamp again? Where was the wall switch? Lightning arrived to assist. Judith jumped to the wall switch and turned the lights on. Her deck waited for her beside the bed, had she left it there? Despite their open discussions of occult matters, Judith had concealed her deck (and her obsession with it) from Kris, partly from a kind of embarrassment and sense of privacy, and partly from what she now realized was a strong sense of distrust that had been growing within her. Would she have really left her deck out on the nightstand like that?

She held the box. It felt right. It felt safe. She removed the small lamp and a little potpourri charm (they do love their potpourris in this town, don't they?) from the nightstand. She removed a cold mug of tea Kris must have left for her, too. And after catching herself staring too long into it, she tipped the mug out onto the carpet. She put the box of cards down on the small table. She held a hand over the box, closing her eyes and forcing herself to breathe slowly, find some calm in the confusion, ask the deck for some clarity before she attempted to piece together whatever had happened. She opened her eyes, extracted the deck, and pulled a card.

Eight of Swords.

The message was clear.

She had to get out.