Chapter 35
The temperature was near forty degrees but a blustery wind and cold mist made it seem frigid. Cora walked through the cemetery, her winter coat pulled tightly around her, her discomfort intensified by anxiety and fear.
Wouldn't you know it-the weather turns wicked just in time to add misery to such an important...what do I call this? Meeting's not a good word. Confrontation? Revelation?
Despite her efforts that morning, she had no real plan-she would just tell Angel about Cavanaugh and wing it, the very thing she had said she didn't want to do. Cora's talk with Father McGrath gave her a better understanding of her own conflicted emotions, but how she would go about revealing the killer to Angel would have to be spontaneous.
She paused, turned and glanced at Cisco sitting in his car, staying in the parking lot as he had promised. She could barely see his head through the windshield, and couldn't see his face, but was grateful he had insisted on coming, despite her objections. She rested her hands in her pockets; gloves didn't keep her warm enough, and covered hands took away her sense of control. Today of all days she needed to feel in control. Her mission was vitally important, a battle of sorts, and she wasn't going to go about it gloved or distracted by the weather.
Cora faced into the wind and trudged her way to the graves of Meg, Packey, and Darlin'. As Cora hoped, and felt sure she would be, Meg was waiting, seated on Darlin's grave.
Angel/Meg was dressed as before, neatly, for summer, not winter, as she would have been dressed when she was killed. She wasn't watching Cora, but looking at the woods that separated the graveyard and the road. She didn't turn at Cora's approach.
Maybe she's as nervous as I am.
"Hello, Meg," Cora greeted her. "Do you think we could move closer to the church, where there's a bench? I'd rather not sit on the cold ground. I'm not young anymore, as I'm sure you're aware."
After a moment, Meg turned to face Cora. The spirit seemed stronger today and wasn't exhibiting energy fluctuations.
Meg fixed her unblinking eyes on Cora, and then said in a hollow, flat voice, "Ground's no colder than anywhere-'tis all cold." Her voice was high and rapid, reminding Cora again of an old vinyl record played on a faster speed.
Cora sighed. "I guess you're right-from your perspective." She seated herself on the ground facing Meg, careful to place layers of coat beneath her. She shivered as the blustery wind found its way past her scarf and down her collar. Her knit hat kept her head warm, but the mist was cold and damp on her cheeks.
"You seem stronger," she observed, her voice flat as she struggled to keep from revealing her emotions.
"There's energy in the woods," Meg replied.
A sudden memory flashed into Cora's mind. "The nuclear waste-the butterflies. Is that what you mean?"
Meg met Cora's eyes but said nothing.
"I wanted to be with you when I told you," Cora said, and waited.
She watched Meg wrestle with her emotions as she realized Cora was about to disclose the reasons for her death and that of her family. Her eyes grew intense, seeming to glow with their own light source. She stood, floated, twirled in a circle, then noticed something, stopped abruptly, her gaze fixed on the parking lot, and in a low, raspy voice close to a roar she demanded, "Why is Cisco here? What are you plotting? Are you afraid of me, your Máime?" She began to float toward Cisco.
Cora jumped up. "Wait," she entreated. "He's no threat to you! If you want to know, wait! Hear me out first!"
The spirit slowed, stopped, and turned toward Cora, but came no closer.
Cora's words tumbled out in a rush as she tried to keep Angel away from Cisco. "He won't come here. I made him promise. He'll stay where he is. He's only watching me. He loves me, Meg, like you do. He wants to protect me, same as you do. He's no threat to me-no threat to you either. You're wrong to suspect him. Please, come and sit down. I can tell you what you want to know. I know it all now, and I want to tell you." Cora gathered her coat around her and made a great show of sitting again, to convince Angel-and herself-she was in control.
Cora could see Meg's energy fluctuate as she struggled with her fury, in, out, in, out, in, out, in; then she dropped slowly, her feet touched the ground again, and she glided back to the grave, resumed her seat near it, and waited silently.
"I brought a letter that tells it all, and I'll read it to you. But I want something from you. If I tell you what you want to know, if you know everything, will you promise to never harm anyone I know? Not to take vengeance? Ever again? Will you promise that?"
"How can I?" Meg insisted, in a soft, almost normal voice.
"I can take care of myself, and I have others who protect me. If I convince you of that, will you promise?" Could she change the spirit's convictions? She had to try.
Meg stared at Cora, then dropped and raised her eyes. The last time she and Meg talked, that sign had meant agreement.
"Okay then," Cora said. She fumbled in her pocket, drew out Cavanaugh's letter, squirmed in the brown, damp grass. Meg checked to be sure Cisco hadn't moved, and then turned her unfocused gaze to the grounds behind the church as Cora began to read.
---
From his car, Cisco watched Cora walk across the cemetery to an area devoid of standing headstones. He supposed the grave markers there were recessed in the ground. A fence separated the graveyard from an area of sparse trees and brush, and beyond it a two-lane road could be made out through bare tree limbs, an infrequent car passing by. Someone sat on the ground where Cora was headed, but he couldn't tell if it was a man or woman. Cora didn't seem to see the person yet. Who would sit on the ground in such weather? Was that Angel?
After all they had been through, and all the evidence pointing to the existence of a spiritual entity, despite all they had learned, the possibility of actually laying his eyes on a spirit was surprisingly unsettling.
This can't be real! It can't be happening!
As Cora approached the figure, Cisco found it harder and harder to remain in the car. He stifled an urge to run after Cora, to drag her away, run off with her. Only his promise to Cora, and the fear that his actions would make matters worse, kept him still.
His heart pounding, he bit his lower lip and watched. Cora was talking to the person now, and sat down on the ground too. It seemed peaceful. Then suddenly the person jumped up and seemed to shimmer in front of him, with glowing pulsations, and floated off the ground, twirling like a top, then stopped suddenly and moved rapidly in his direction!
Cora jumped up too, waved her arms frantically, and he heard her call out, although he couldn't make out the words. The spirit-he had no doubt of this now-halted, and turned back toward Cora.
Cisco reached for the door handle, alarmed, ready to rush to Cora's aid, although he had no idea how to protect her from a spirit known to be violent and possessing unearthly powers. At least they would be together when Angel took vengeance. But the spirit seemed calmer, so he paused, and it lowered itself to the ground, glided toward Cora, and both sat on the ground again. Cora reached into her coat and unfolded the letter, as she told him she would do if all was well, and he took a deep breath and leaned against the car seat, but did not relax his vigil.
---
Cora finished reading Cavanaugh's letter aloud, rested in it her lap, and looked up at Meg for her reaction. Meg's energy levels were pulsing again, but gently, like breaths, and she kept her gaze behind the church. Cora wondered if Meg was reliving-living?-the events of that fateful night. Meg showed no sign of anger or violence.
Cora glanced toward Cisco; he was still in the car watching them. She addressed Meg.
"Do you want to see it? The letter? Will it help you to touch the letter, to know it's real, to see it's authentic, not something I made up? It's not, you know-not a fake. I found it in a box of old documents, in one of those canal tunnels. I came here first, to tell you, so I haven't researched Cavanaugh yet, but I know it will prove out-I'm sure of it." She held the letter out, but the spirit didn't move to take it.
After a long time, Meg probed Cora's eyes with the laser-like light of her own. She spoke at last. "So 'twas over nothing after all...nothing important...just a greedy man. All that pain and torment...." She trailed off.
Cora folded the letter and put it back in her pocket. They sat in silence for a time, and then Cora asked, "What will you do now?"
There was no answer.
"I did this for you, and for me," Cora said. "I solved your mystery because I thought it would give you peace, but also because I want to enjoy my remaining years without the stress you're causing me."
Meg/Angel still did not speak.
"Why did you want to know about your murder? Was that keeping you from peace, not knowing? Or is it taking care of me? Are you staying here because of me?"
Meg's gaze traveled from place to place, anywhere except toward Cora.
Cora had many questions, and this could be the only time to get answers. "Was it you who made bad things happen to people who hurt me, all through my life?"
Meg paused, and then dropped her eyes to the ground, the gesture Cora took as agreement. "They hurt themselves. I gave them ideas."
Cora was thoughtful. "I see. You facilitated their self-destruction."
" 'Twas satisfying."
"What about the little things, drawers closing, moving stuff, things like that?"
Meg made a sad little smile. "I thought...you would feel me-'twas fun."
"You wanted me to know you? And you wanted to have some fun? In your diary you seemed to love to have fun."
Meg just smiled gently.
"Was that you I saw here when I was in college, the story I told on Fright Night?"
"You came, on your own. 'Twas a surprise."
"An opportunity you couldn't pass up, as I was right here? How much of my life did you manipulate? Did you orchestrate our move to Lemont too?"
"You were older. I wanted you near."
"The first time we met here, you got into my head then, didn't you? It wasn't my idea to check out Saint James, it was yours, because you wanted us to meet, and you can only materialize here."
Meg turned her head and gazed toward her grave. They sat quietly, Cora's last question unanswered.
"Why me, Meg?" Cora asked. "You could have picked anyone for your daughter. Why did you pick me? I'm not your daughter. I wasn't born until more than forty years after your daughter died. You can love me and pretend, but I'm not your daughter. The letter I read to you, from your killer, and articles I saw in the paper-they all said your baby died."
"You are daughter. Earth Máthair returned you." The spirit's eyes glowed as she said this.
"I don't understand," Cora said, knitting her brows in confusion. "I really am your daughter, and someone called Earth Máthair brought me to you? That doesn't make sense. I'd be over a hundred years old if that were true. Can you explain?"
The glow in Meg's eyes faded and she only looked at her sadly and refused to say more. Cora could get no further with that question.
She returned to the promise she wanted from Meg. "Are you going to stop hurting my friends? If you love me, then listen to me and please stop doing that."
Meg's reply was so soft, Cora couldn't understand it.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," she said.
"Naïvvveee," said Meg, more clearly, singing the word.
"I don't understand," Cora said, knitting her eyebrows and narrowing her eyes, puzzled by the comment.
Meg stared, and then stood up to face Cora, who was still sitting in the same place. "You explain murders. Then...simple...I go away," she said, her eyes hurt and pleading.
Cora didn't know how to answer, and her eyes filled with tears. "Angel, I don't know what I want. What you've been doing...you're hurting people, and I don't want people hurt because of me. You say you want to protect me, but you've got the wrong people, the reasons are trivial. Your judgment is no good-you have to stop!" Distressed, Cora didn't notice she was calling the spirit Angel again instead of addressing her as Meg.
"I need reeessst. Soooo tiiiiiired." The words were drawn out; her voice was a moan, as if made by a tree creaking in the wind, and she threw her head from side to side.
Cora choked up and had no reply.
Angel looked around, distraught. "Protect...you...Darlin'!" she insisted.
Cora felt tears running down her cheeks, or was it the mist? She left them there, remembering Father McGrath's advice that Angel needed to see her sorrow. "Angel, I can take care of myself. Don't you know that? Haven't I proved my strength throughout my life, especially in the last few weeks? And my husband, my family, my friends, they're all with me when I need them. Cisco will keep me safe, see, he's there in the car watching me right now, and he'll always do that." Once again Cora was grateful for Cisco's foresight, as his presence testified to her words.
Angel didn't look at Cisco as Cora asked, only rolled her head around and emitted an eerie cry full of anguish and despair that echoed throughout the cemetery and the forest. Cora looked toward the car and saw Cisco jump out, hesitating by the door.
Cora stood up and faced the spirit. "Angel," she choked. "I'm getting old. Your powers can't keep me from dying. I hope to live another twenty years, maybe more, but what will you do then? Who will you have to live for, if not me? What will happen when you see me die too? You can't stop that. Why should you keep struggling when you're ready to go now? I'll be okay without you, on my own, but not alone, with my husband and friends. It's okay...you can rest now."
Angel calmed, and gazed at Cora sadly. The light in her eyes no longer blazed, and they looked human, like a mother fondly watching her sleeping child.
"Miss me?" she asked.
"Oh, my God, Máime, can't you see how much I'm going to miss you?" Sobbing now, tears flowing freely, Cora continued to let them fall. Trying to control her voice, she continued, "I never knew who you were, but you were there, I felt you. My life wouldn't have been the same without you. If you need my love, you have it."
Angel looked deep into Cora's tearful face. "You...called me...Máime...Darlin'!" she said, moving closer to Cora and opening her arms to her.
"No!" Cora cried in fear. "You can't touch me! You warned me before! You didn't know what would happen. It's dangerous!"
But Angel glided to Cora and wrapped her arms around her at last. Cora felt the warmth of a mother's embrace for a heartbeat, and then it was over.
---
Cisco, watching from the car, didn't see threatening behavior, but he heard an eerie cry, and he leaped from the car again and stood beside it, ready to sprint to Cora at any sign of danger. Cora didn't indicate she needed help. She was still sitting on the ground, wiping her eyes, and he thought she could be crying. Angel stood looking down at her.
Then Cora stood up too, facing Angel, and the two kept up an intense conversation. He saw Angel move toward Cora with open arms, and Cora cried out and backed away. Angel reached out and embraced Cora, and as he watched, the two figures appeared to merge.
A rumbling sound, like thunder, seemed to come from underground. The ground heaved up and down rhythmically, as if breathing. The asphalt surface of the parking lot cracked and split, throwing him to the ground. When the ground stopped rising and falling, he struggled to his feet. A single figure lay unmoving in the cemetery. Was it Cora, or Angel? He couldn't tell.
Cisco raced toward the figure, his heart in his throat.