CHAPTER 29: OLIVIA
An hour later, I’m fully-dressed and ready to go. I walk downstairs and into the living area, where everyone is waiting for me.
“Five down, one to go,” Jessica says.
As soon as Jessica finishes the sentence, I hear someone marching downstairs. Daniel walks down the steps and pauses at the bottom.
"Are we going to do this or what?" Daniel asks everyone, as if he's the one that’s been waiting on us.
"You tell me. We've been waitin forever,” Eric replies.
Everyone stands to their feet and then exit through the front door.
"Mane, no speeding,” Kenya says in the doorway. “That’s unless you need to. I'm tired of paying for speeding-tickets. Do you hear me?"
Daniel opens the driver’s door of the SUV without acknowledging her.
"Mane…?" she shouts to him.
"Yes, I heard you,” he says before getting into the car. “They're probably from Aero.”
“My name ain’t Bennett and I ain’t in it,” Eric replies.
Today, Jason and I are in the back row, Maria and Jessica are both in the middle, and Eric and Daniel are in the front. Daniel reverses out of the driveway and drives up the road at the normal speed limit. I’m just glad Eric isn’t driving anymore. He nearly gave me a panic-attack twice.
"Iva,” Jessica calls out to me. "My mom can be over-the-top sometimes. She’s also a little short on manners. That’s just her character.”
"She's like a child on caffeine,” Eric adds. "Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, all fuckin year long.”
"Thank you for the heads up,” I reply. “Is there anything good about her? So far her cooking is bad, she has no manners, and she’s like a kid on caffeine.”
“Yeah, she can see the future,” Jessica says.
“Well, sometimes,” Eric adds.
“I was not expecting that, but okay.”
“I know it’s random. But you asked,” Jessica replies.
A couple minutes later, the car pulls into a long driveway. We park in front of a white house with red window shutters. The house is shaded by trees.
"We’re here already?" I ask Jason.
"Yes. We all live pretty close to one another,” he says.
We exit the SUV and approach the red door. Before Daniel is able to knock on the door, it swings open. A very excited woman appears in the doorway, bouncing on her heels. She looks like a fifty-year-old version of Jessica, except her hair is cut short with gray streaks. And she has a little more weight to her than Jessica.
“Mom, this is Iva, Iva, this is our…” Eric tries a proper greeting and fail.
"Shut-up,” she rudely interrupts her son. “Where is she, where is she?!" the woman demands in a loud voice.
She gasps loudly when she spots me. She then reaches her arms forward and escorts me into her home. I walk in feeling totally awkward and stiff. She escorts me to an armchair and pushes me down into the cushion.
“Sit,” she tells me.
“I'm sitting already,” I confirm.
“Are you sure?”
“Looks like it.”
“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. That's a question I suppose to ask you in about five seconds.”
She then takes a sat on the sofa in front of me.
“Do you want anything to drink?” she asks me nicely.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
“Are you sure?” she asks nicely again.
My mind pauses as if she just sent me into a time loop.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I reply awkwardly. “So, you knew my answer to the question...”
“Before you asked it, yes,” she replies cheerfully.
Everyone else find a place to sit in the small living room. I look at my surroundings. The style of the house appears mediocre. The sofa is beige, the walls are painted an eggshell-white, and the floors are hardwood. I do notice they’re a little unorganized. They also have unclean dishes lying around here and there.
“I like your house,” I compliment her.
“Thanks. Sorry it's a little unorganized. Excuse me for a second Iva, my husband is about to ask me a redundant question. And, no, I wish I had some. I gotta get some more from the store.”
I don’t understand what she meant by her last two statements. The thought leaves my mind when I hear footsteps marching toward the top of their stairs. Unlike Daniels feet, which sounds like boulders hitting the floor, these feet should like they're shuffling.
"Who is it?" a man voice shouts from the second floor.
"Who do you think it is? It’s 2:30. I mentioned it at least a hundred times. I even mentioned it before you mentioned it,” Margie says and abruptly flips into another character, which is fueled with aggression.
All of a sudden, when her eyes shifts back to mines, she's normal again. Even her behavior is similar to Jessica’s.
"I’m Margie. My real name is Aerial. It’s an honor to finally meet you Iva,” she says with an angelic smile.
An older gentlemen, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a gray sweater, comes downstairs to join us. He looks like a fifty-year-old version of Eric, but he’s a little overweight. His weight seemed to be caused by age and not necessarily by overeating.
"Hello. Welcome,” he says warmly.
"Hi,” I reply.
He extends his hand to me and I shake it.
"I’m Charles, but you can call me Zephyr. May I help you to anything to drink?"
"I asked already,” Margie says to him with a wicked leer.
"On second thought, do you guys have any tea? I'll take that,” I ask.
“No, I wish I had some. I gotta get some more from the store,” Margie replies.
What just happened? Somehow it feels like I just had déjà vu. Once again, it's like she answered my question before I even asked her. She then looks her husband directly in the eyes as he sits down next to her.
"Don't embarrass me,” she whispers to him.
He sighs and looks away from her. She shifts her attention back onto me with a fresh smile.
"If you don't mind, can I see the mark?"
"Sure,” I say while rolling up my sleeve.
She pulls my arm closer to her eyes.
"It’s just like the drawings I'd seen growing up,” she says with an observing stare.
Charles scoots closer to me.
"Yeah, it's exactly like the drawings,” he says while looking at my mark.
Margie lets my arm go. She then slowly rotates her face towards Charles.
“I just said that. I swear, I’m gonna start locking you in the damn doghouse,” she says to him.
“You first,” Charles replies.
Oh my God…They even argue like the twins. The frustration in his face is growing. I can tell he wants to say more, yet he refrains by chewing the inside of his cheek instead. Margie turns to me, smiling again. She sighs and then restarts the entire conversation.
“Anyways, I'm Margie but you can call me Ariel. We’re so happy that you’re here. This is truly a remarkable time; for all of our kind. When Shiva told me about you, I never expected you to be a girl. I always imagined a man would find that box,” she rests her right cheek against her knuckles while she looks deeply into my eyes. "I’m just curious, where did you find it?"
"An antique shop, a couple of months back,” I reply.
Margie gasps.
"Are you serious?" she responds with shocked eyes.
“Yes, I am.”
She looks down at the floor and shakes her head in amazement.
"It’s mind blowing. Out of all the places…" Charles adds, but he’s too much in awe to finish the sentence.
Margie continues to stare at the ground, pondering.
"If only my father could be here now to see you,” she continues in a deep thought.
Her eyes shift into mines again.
"He, and others before him, wasted their lives searching for that box,” she explains. "And here comes a girl, shopping at an antique store, and discovers it. You’re truly a miracle sweetheart.”
"Shiva also told us about your encounter with Hellhound the other day,” Charles says.
"Yeah, I met him…unfortunately.”
"Did he hurt you?" Margie asks with concern.
"Besides a couple of bruises, I’m fine.”
"Those low down dirty scoundrels,” she says with slanted eyebrows.
She looks over at Daniel and asks…
"He ran off didn't he?"
"Yes. They all did,” he replies regrettably.
"I knew it. They're nothing but a bunch of cowards. They're deceptive too. You always have to be on your toes. They’re always planning something, those Blaires. And they’ll stop at nothing until they get what they want.”
Her face becomes twisted at the mere mention of their name, like she just ate something rancid. I don’t blame her. She takes a timeout to release some irritation before continuing.
"We're so lucky to have you. I always had a gift at reading people. I know you have a pure heart. But your future is so…obscure,” she looks into my eyes as she ponders deeply. “I’m not sure if you know, but sometimes I can see things before they happen.”
“Yes, I was told that.”
“I would like to share something with you. I believe it’s very important that you know about it.”
“Okay.”
“I had a vision the other day about a girl. I was unable to see her face, but I believe it was you. She was stricken by a deep sadness. And she was all alone in a dark room. And I saw a shadow coming toward her. This shadow was just…darkness.”
An eerie vibe slithers up my spine as she tells me her vision.
“What does it mean?” I ask timidly.
“I don’t know yet. But I felt a sense of urgency when I had it. Sometimes my visions can be very unclear about its meaning. But whatever it means, I know it’s not good. The future is not yet written in stone. There’s still time to change it.”
“And if I don’t?” I ask with a tinge of fear in my tone.
"Okay, we need to head out,” Daniel announces abruptly.
The eerie mood is shattered by his words.
"Already…?" Margie seems heartbroken by Daniel’s announcement.
“Yeah mom, we’re leaving,” Jessica replies.
“Why all of a sudden? Is it something I said?”
“Mom, why are you telling her things like that? She’s just been through a lot,” Jessica states.
“I didn’t mean to scare her.”
“Honey, they’re right,” Charles adds. “We could’ve discussed that a better time.”
“No, I think it’s her right to know about her future.”
“Guys please don’t argue over me. I’m fine,” I put my two cents in.
I’m such a liar. I’m nowhere near “fine”. Her vision just gave me some major goosebumps and she barely given me any details. What the hell is a spiritual darkness? Does she mean death?
“I’m sorry if I ruined the visit,” Margie presses on.
"It’s fine. We have to make another stop before going to Olivia's. We're trying to get back before sunset,” Daniel replies.
She looks at me with an intense remorse.
"Okay...well, um, stop by again,” she says to me brokenheartedly.
"I will. It was nice to meet you, Aerial.”
We both stand to our feet, and then she gives me another hug.
"You take care,” she whispers into my ear.
She lets go and we all exit through the front door. Before I get into the SUV, Charles and Margie gives me another wave. I smile at them and wave back. We settle into the vehicle in our previous positions, and then Daniel reverses from their driveway. Eric lets out a loud stress relieving sigh as we depart from his home.
“Sorry about my mom, Iva,” he says as we cruise away from their house.
“It’s fine. I just wanted to know what she meant.”
The entire SUV is now dead silent all of a sudden. Their lack of response is a clear sign that they’re hiding some important information from me; something they don’t want me to hear.
“Iva, drop it,” Daniel says straightforwardly.
“But I want to know. I need to know.”
“When she has visions like that, it only means one thing. It means death is coming,” Jessica clarifies.
For the first time in my life, I was actually hoping to be wrong about something.
“Is death coming for me?”
I get hit by fear when I ask them that question.
“Not always. It could be somebody...you know,” Jessica hesitates to finish the sentence.
“It could be any of us,” Maria states.
“Can we stop it from coming to pass?”
No one seems to want to answer my question.
“Guys?” I try to get them to clarify my last question.
“Listen up..,” Eric butts in. “None of us are getting killed. She has been wrong before. Like she said, the meanin was unclear. Stop assumin shit.”
“I swear, every time you speak, I just want to punch you in the face,” Jessica replies.
“Awwww. Every time you speak, I want to punch you in your face too.”
“I’m about to punch both of y’all in the face,” Maria adds.
“Don’t worry, Iva,” Jason says in a comforting tone next to me. “You're safe with us. You’re safe with me.”
Avoiding my question only makes me even more paranoid. This makes me think about my mom again. If something happens to her…no Iva, don’t start thinking like that again. I oppose against my own thoughts. I breathe out slowly and try to dodge some of the fear. That tactic didn't help much at all.
Our next home takes a little longer to get to. It’s a cozy brick home with a red sports-car parked in the driveway. A brunette man and a dark haired woman are standing in the driveway, waiting.
"That’s my folks,” Jason says.
We all get out of the car, one by one.
"Good evening, everyone," the man says as we exit the vehicle.
"Good evening Dr. Connors,” everyone replies.
"So, is this her?" the man beams at me.
"Yes. Iva, this is my dad,” Jason introduces me.
I shake hands with him.
"I'm David,” he informs me. “Don’t worry about the doctor part. I hear that enough at the hospital.”
"And this is my mom,” Jason says.
I shake hands with her as well.
"I’m Sharon. I’m pleased to meet you,” she says with a gentle smile.
"Let’s go in, shall we,” David says.
We walk up the steps and enter into a sophisticated living area. I take a seat on a leather three-seated couch. Sharon and David both sit on the matching loveseat across from me. The house looks a lot bigger from the inside. The brown floors are marble, the fireplace is trimmed in gold, and the kitchen appliances are stainless steel.
There are some pictures of Jason as a young boy, but the picture frames are electronic. The pictures on the walls are slide shows of their family. I’ve seen homes like this inside magazines at the doctor’s office, but never in person.
"Do you guys want anything to eat?" David asks.
"No thank you,” Daniel replies. “We won’t stay long. We’re taking her to see Olivia.”
"And how is she doing?" Sharon asks politely.
"She’s fine,” Daniel replies.
"You'll love Olivia,” Sharon tells me. "She’s a really sweet lady.”
I feel a lot more comfortable in this house rather than Eric and Jessica’s. Maybe it’s because they’re such welcoming people.
“So, what are your real names?” I ask them, but they stare at me with a confused expression.
“Excuse me…?” Sharon asks.
"Oh, Iva, my parents are not like us, they’re human,” Jason explains to me.
"But how…?"
"We adopted Jason when he was a baby,” David explains. “His mother died at birth and his dad, well, wasn’t a dad.”
"Don't say it like that, David,” Sharon tells him with disappointment. "His father couldn’t cope after the death, so he found someone who wanted a baby. And I couldn’t have one, so we adopted him. I was pretty sad that I couldn’t have my own. But after we found Jason, I realized that maybe there was a reason for it. And it was him.”
David chuckles before he speaks again.
"We didn’t take the news very well, you know, about his other side. But it didn’t matter, we loved him too much to give him back,” he gazes at Jason and smiles at him. “That’s our boy right there. Nobody can tell us any different.”
David clears his throat and continues talking.
"So, Iva, we heard a lot about you. It must be hard, knowing what’s coming. I’m not going to talk your ears off, but just be safe, for us, for everyone. We can only hope that you can watch over our son. He’s too old for mom and pop to tell him to stay home...,” he sighs and doesn’t continue.
"What my husband is trying to say, Iva, is we know we’re facing hard times. Just promise us that you’ll keep watch over our son. The same goes to all of you. Watch over each other.”
I swallow down hard, feeling this enormous weight being placed on my shoulders. I look over at Jason, who is staring back at me, and then I turn to Sharon again.
“I will try,” I reply modestly.
“It was good to meet you, and if you ever need a place to rest your head, we are just a phone call away,” David tells me.
"Well, we don’t want to keep you guys too long,” Sharon says. “Tell Olivia we said hi, okay? One day we all need to get together and discuss some important matters.”
"Yup,” Daniel replies.
"Visit us anytime, Iva,” David says before we leave their house and get into the car.
They wave bye to us as we reverse out of the driveway and roll down the road. Five minutes later, Daniel takes an on-ramp. We’re now making our way back towards Rochester on the highway. Before long, the trees that surround Glenworth disappear behind us, and the skyline of Rochester ascends in the horizon. He takes the downtown exit and parks in front of a high rise building.
"Is this Olivia’s place?" I ask Jason.
"Yup,” he replies.
We all empty the SUV. Daniel goes up to the intercom and dials a number. I hear the dial tone ringing and ringing until a woman answers the phone.
"Hello,” she greets us.
"It’s us Olivia,” Daniel says into the intercom.
"Come on up,” she responds cheerfully.
I hear a buzz coming from the intercom before Daniel pulls the door open. We walk into the main lobby and wait for the elevator to arrive. The elevator doors slide open and we cram into the small area with a few other residents. We rise to the sixth floor and the elevator doors reopen. I follow behind them as they stop at the last door on the right-hand side.
Daniel knocks three times on the door. I then hear the sound of several bolts turning and locks unlocking before the door swings open. I then see this older woman smiling back at us. Her dark, silky, hair is styled neatly into two large braids. She has a beautiful brown skin tone, a pair of sparkling eyes that matches her dark hair, and large cheeks.
I’m pretty sure she have Native American in her blood, although she has a brown complexion.
"Come in everyone,” she says in an uplifting tone.
I step into her living room with the smell of something sweet at my nose. Everyone scatter around the living area and find a place to sit. Before I’m able to sit, the woman approaches me; her big cheeks are swelling as she smiles radiantly.
"Hello child. I’m Olivia,” she says in a subtle voice before she hugs me. "You have a bumpy road ahead of you,” she says in my ear while she rocks me from side to side.
She finally releases me to look at my physique.
“Child, you are a skinny one aren’t you?” she says with a chuckle as she studies me from head to toe. “But don't worry, I'm a fantastic cook. I'll get some meat on them bones, child. Don't you worry. Just ask them.”
“Oh yeah, Olivia can throw down too,” Jessica confirms.
"Come here. Sit with me,” she says while escorting me over to a sofa.
Olivia stays pinned to my side on the couch.
"Did they tell you about me?" she asks.
I can tell she’s been dying to ask me that.
“Not much. They said that you know a lot about their history.”
“I know a lot but not nearly enough,” she replies with remorse. “I’m like a historian. But that’s not what I was referring to.”
I see a light-bulb click on in Olivia's mind. Her eyes suddenly widens with joy.
"Oh, I almost forgot about the pretzels,” she stands and rushes into the kitchen.
I can hear the oven door squealing open and closing.
"She makes great pretzels,” Jessica states.
"You’re such a fuckin freeloader,” Eric adds.
“There's no shame in my game,” Jessica agrees.
Olivia comes back in the living area with a plate of warm, buttery, pretzels and places them on the coffee table.
"Help yourself,” she announces to everyone.
After a series of "Thank you Miss Olivia" they begin eating her home made pretzels. Olivia walks over to a bookshelf and grabs a large brown book, places it on the coffee table, and takes a seat next to me. I stare down at the book to observe it. It’s obvious this book is very old. The cover is made from rough leather.
The edge of the book is bruised, and the original black text on the cover is chipping away. I assume that this book has to be hundreds of years old, maybe more.
"What is this?" I ask Olivia.
"As you know, there are the humans, the animals, and those in-between. This is the Book of Quintus. Thousands of years ago, an owl made a scroll filled with our history. His name was Quintus. He was a great philosopher. And this book has all of his teachings. This book is only a copy of his original documents. It’s not much, but it’s all we have.”
She flips open to the first page. This page reveals three wavy, horizontal, lines.
"As you may, or may not know, we all have a distinct mark somewhere on our body. This is the mark of the water-bearers.”
She flips the page. On the next page, I see these drawings of men and woman swimming among fish. Under the picture, I spot this unreadable language.
"Were they mermaids?” I ask.
"That’s how the myths started. They had a great empire under the oceans. They were the protectors of the waters.”
"Are you referring to Atlantis?”
"Exactly. But, they no longer exist. Eventually, they spent more time on land and had children with pure-blooded humans. When that happens, the bloodline weakens. Their children will be human and so forth. The animal DNA would cancel out.”
She flips to a new page. This page displays a paw print.
"This is the mark of the felines. They were the protectors of the sierras.”
She flips to another page revealing people standing among lions, panthers, and tigers. She flips another time. This page has three wavy lines, but these lines are vertical instead of horizontal.
"These are the birds. They were the protectors of the skies. The owls were different. Sometimes, they had visions or premonitions. Just like how Quintus had that vision of the future. A vision that must never come to pass.”
She flips the page again. This new page reveals three diagonal lines, but these lines resemble claw marks.
"This is the mark of the Canines. They were supposed to be man’s companion; their protector. However, they grew greedy and turned their backs on the humans.”
She flips to a page showing graphic drawings of wolves and wild dogs ripping men, woman, and children to pieces.
"They became angry with the humans and turned on them, like a rebellious dog against its master. They believed man should be under them, not the other way around.”
She flips again. This new page reveals an eye with a slit down the middle of the eye.
"This is the mark of the reptiles. Some call them reptilians while others call them lizard-men.”
My heart cringes with fear once again.
"But they’re snakes none the less,” she chuckles faintly. "They have been the cause of many problems in the world. They were supposed to be the protectors of the deserts.”
"Are a lot of them...?" I pause to gulp. "...still around?"
"Yes. Most of them are the worst kind of people, politicians. And if you think those dogs are sneaky, child, you just wait and see.”
She flips the page again. This page has many symbols. Some of them are circular, some are square, and some are abstract.
"Quintus says he met all kinds of people like us; bears, rhinos, and even elephants. These are some of his drawings of their marks.”
She then flips again, showing men and woman standing among a variety of animals. She continues to a new page, revealing another sign. This sign resembles a flame.
"These beings were the protectors of the elements. This one is a bird made of fire. This is the mark of the phoenix. They‘re born human, but when they awake their bodies leaves Earth’s realm.”
“Awake…? You mean transform, right?” I ask.
“Yes. That’s when our human soul and animal soul finally joins together as one.”
"So, when a phoenix awakes they just vanish? Why?”
"Because when they become a phoenix, they’re no longer physical beings. So, they transport to the spiritual realm shortly after. They belong in the 4th dimension and higher not the 3rd.”
"Are there anymore left?"
"Yes, they come once every generation,” she tells me.
"Have you met one?" I ask her eagerly.
"Have I?” she smiles at me. "You’re sitting next to one child. Give me your hand.”
I lift my hand and she grips it gently.
“What are you doing...?”
“Just wait and see,” she cuts me off.
I look at the bruises on the back of my hand from me falling in the woods. Suddenly, they fade away. I lift my hand close to my face, observing it with amazed eyes.
“But how..?”
“A phoenix has healing abilities. But my powers only allow me to do so much.”
“Extraordinary,” I say to the back of my hand.
She just smiles, as if it's not a big deal to her.
“Let's continue,” she says.
She flips to another page. This new page shows a leaf identical to mines.
“I bet this looks familiar, doesn’t it? This is the mark of the apes. They were the protectors of the jungles. You are the last of the ape bloodline.”
She turns the page another time. For some particular reason, she sighs as she lifts this page. I get the notion that this new page will reveal something I don't want to see. This new page reveals a drawing of a flame. Within the flame, I see a lizard's eye similar to the mark of the reptiles.
“I just hate looking at it,” Olivia explains with tension in her voice. “This mark is very, very, unique. It's the sign of total darkness. This mark belongs to only one person. It's the mark of an evil, barbaric, tyrant who lived long ago. And his name is Romulus; The Devourer of gods.”
I stare at his symbol, feeling consumed by immense fear.
“Not many people seen this mark in person and lived to tell the tale. Legend tells us that Romulus was almost like Death itself. Where ever he went, death and chaos followed. He also was a seeker of knowledge. That made him even more dangerous. Some people even went as far as calling him, The greatest villain of all time.”
She turns the page. The next page reveals a dark figure sitting on a throne of some sort. Over the throne are ominous clouds, and around the throne are many people kneeling to the dark figure.
“The prophecy states, he will come out of his slumber in two years. And you have to be ready; we all do. When he comes back, no one will be safe. And you will be our only hope at stopping him. We are facing very frightening times, child.”
“Why am I the only one that can stop him?”
“That remains unclear. Quintus says, just like him, some of us have a unique, spiritual, gift. The wolves can track your scent from miles away, the felines can sense vibrational patterns, and the birds have sharp awareness of their surroundings. Due to the phoenix incredible healing powers, Romulus body is constantly regenerating. For some unknown reason the apes could harm him. That’s their unique gift, I suppose. They were also known for their incredible strength.”
“If the apes are so strong, how did Romulus manage to kill them off?” I ask.
"Romulus was a master of war. He used a simple tactic,” Olivia explains. “He destroyed their crops and deprived them of food for many days. And at their weakest, they made their attack. He was very ruthless. It was genocide.”
She flips again to a page that is covered with unreadable writing.
"The rest is Quintus stories about his travels and visions.”