Chapter Seventeen
I shower, expecting it to revitalize my body, but I am still exhausted as I dress. Wandering into the kitchen for breakfast, I am greeted by my cheerful mother. As soon as my mom sees me, her face wrinkles into a worried frown.
“Are you okay, Arra?” she asks me. “You don’t look very well. Are you getting sick? You were out too late last night. What was your grandfather thinking, just letting you wander off.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” I say, rubbing my face. “I just didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll be fine. I’m still getting used to the new house and everything.” I know it is a lie, but one my mom will surely believe.
My mom smiles with understanding. “Oh, Arra, it will take a while to adjust. But, I’m glad you’re trying. I know you miss your old life and friends.”
I haven’t really thought about Manhattan in quite a while. Right now, roadside markets and taxi rides are far from my mind. I realize now how insignificant my complaints were, how superficial and meaningless refusing to unpack my room was.
I have become so involved with trying to keep myself from being engulfed by an ancient fate that I have barely considered the unhappiness I felt about living in the new small town. It hardly matters any more anyway. In fact, I’m glad we came here, glad my grandpa is near me, and especially glad that I met Tanner. I can’t help smirking at the change I feel.
“Mom, I won’t be home for lunch. I’m going to spend most of the day with Grandpa. He asked me to help him with some cleaning and things like that. I’ll probably be gone all day.” I smile through the lie.
My mom pats my shoulder and says it’s fine. I will miss her. I hope she will miss me too. My mom is amazing. I almost reconsider going out so I can spend time at home, but my desperation to find out more is the only thing keeping my hope alive. I am convinced that I can make a difference if I can only find the key to the mystery. Kissing my mother goodbye, I head to my grandpa’s house.
Running the whole twelve blocks, I wheeze with relief when his small brick home comes into view. I didn’t tell my grandpa I was coming, but he’s watching for me by the window when I run up. The door is open and he’s waiting anxiously for me. Not saying anything to me at first, he just goes and sits in his armchair, handing me the hot chocolate he prepared for me. It’s way too early for the sweet drink, but I take it anyway. I can use a little caffeine and sugar this morning. I hold it in my hands, drinking deeply. When I finally regain my breath, my grandpa begins.
“Tell me about the dream, Arra. What did it show you?”
“I don’t know, Grandpa. I know it’s Kivera, but that’s all. Last night I saw her tied to an altar. I saw a black knife, a fire, and a bowl of water on a table. She was crying hysterically and the priest and guards hated her because of it.
“It was terrible to watch. But I know she’s the reason Katie and Maera are dead and I hate her for that. The dreams just aren’t telling me enough,” I say. I put down the cup with a sigh.
“They will,” my grandpa says, “but not soon enough, I think.”
“I know. I’ll see the rest of it tonight. I’ll find out what Kivera did when I fall asleep. But what good will it do me then? I need to find out as much as I can today. I don’t know if it will help, but I have to do something. I can’t just sit here and wait to die,” I say. Tears fill my eyes as I speak. My grandpa sees my distress and puts his hand on my shoulder in comfort.
“Are you okay, honey?” he ask. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”
I look up, quickly rubbing my cheeks and eyes.
“I’m exhausted, Grandpa. I barely get any sleep at night before the dreams start. Then I wake up wanting to scream, and if I can get back to sleep, it’s never very restful. I want to pass out for a few days, but I can’t go back to bed now. I’m afraid of losing even a second.” I sigh, letting my head sink into the back of the couch.
“You’re the only one that can help me figure this out,” I say. Tears fall down my cheeks, dripping onto my jeans. Letting my head fall into my hands, I try to breathe deeply. I need calm to face this. Desperate and scared, my eyes plead for my grandpa’s help.
“I will help you in any way that I can, Arra. Even if that means dousing you with coffee,” he says trying to lighten the mood. “As long as you don’t tell your mom, that is.”
I smile halfheartedly. My grandpa isn’t even allowed to drink coffee, for health reasons and by order of my dad. Hot chocolate isn’t quite an equal substitute, but it will have to do for today. Picking up the mug, I take another long drink. It’s better than nothing.
“I know there’s not a big chance that I’ll make any difference, Grandpa, but I feel like I’m really close. I feel like she’s reaching out to me. She wants to help me. Or maybe she wants me to help her. I don’t know which, but I think she wants this to stop as much as we do. Why else would we see the dreams first? I can make a difference if I can just find out how.”
“I don’t know how you would help her, Arra. She’s already dead and she’s the one who started it all. I don’t know that she deserves any help even if you could give it,” my grandpa says sourly.
He is upset at the idea of helping the person who killed his sister and daughter, as am I, but I wonder if I can indeed help myself without helping Kivera as well. The look on my grandpa’s face says he is wondering the same thing. His anger softens under my gaze.
“Grandpa, if I help her, maybe it will finally end,” I say.
He nods his head reluctantly. “I’ve considered the same thing. Forgive my anger, Arra. It’s just that I’ve already lost two of the people I loved because of Kivera. It’s just hard to imagine helping her after that.” He smiles, proud of his granddaughter. “You are good to even think of her needs. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
My grandpa rubs his wrinkled hands over his face and sighs. “What do you want to do? What do you think will actually help?”
“I want to find out about the Aztec sacrifices. That is the part of the dream I’m still missing. Katie didn’t record the last two nights of the dream in her diary. I need to know how the sacrifice was supposed to happen, and why. Why were they sacrificing her anyway? Was it a punishment or just a ritual? Maybe I’ll be able to figure something out if I know more about what was happening.”
“Okay Arra. The smallest thing might help. I’ve been through much of this already, but a fresh set of eyes and ears may prove the difference,” he says.
Walking to the town’s small public library passes slowly and in silence. My grandpa has a working car and is perfectly capable of driving, but he insists on walking. “It will give you time to clear your head,” he said before we left.
I suspect that he is trying to make the trip last longer than necessary. Wondering if he is afraid we will find nothing useful, I guess that he is simply prolonging the disappointment. I’m not completely sure of his reasoning, but he was adamant in his decision. Irritated, regardless of his fears, I stalked out of the house.
Simpler than walking to the library, I wish I had access to the internet. The waiting list to get someone out to Grainer put my family’s installation date still two weeks away. Happy to leave technology in the hands of younger generations, my grandfather has never even considered signing up for internet service. Briefly irritated, once again, by the move to Grainer, I am left with only the library. I’m hoping to find books that can tell me about Aztec society, but when the small brick building comes into view I worry that the trip will indeed prove to be a waste of precious time.
I search through the manual card catalog for books about the Aztecs. The small library has one children’s picture book on the subject and one fictional novel. My frustration deepens. I find myself for the first time in days wishing I could go back to Manhattan, at least for a few hours. The libraries in Manhattan could almost rival the internet. I have no doubt I would be able to find what I need.
> “Grandpa, there’s nothing here. What are we supposed to do now?” I say exasperated.
“Just be patient, Arra. Let’s ask the librarian. Maybe there will be some other books not in the catalog,” he suggests.
I am getting more anxious as the day passes. It is nearing midday and I am beginning to feel like I might not succeed. My grandpa pulls me close to him and gives me a tight hug.
“Calm down, Arra. We’re not out of options yet. I’m here to help you as much as you need me to. Let’s ask someone for help. Come on.”
Heading toward the reference desk, my grandpa puts on a polite smile. “Hello, Edna. How are you doing today?” he says warmly.
“Oh, Alden, I am doing just wonderful. How nice of you to ask. And how are you doing?” the portly old woman asks.
“Oh, I’m fine, Edna. I’m just here with my granddaughter, Arra. She wanted some books about the Aztecs,” he says, “and we’re having a bit of trouble finding anything historical.”
“Yes,” Edna says with a shake of her head, “we don’t have many books on that subject. Most of our books were donated to us. So we don’t have a very complete selection of topics.” She shuffles some papers into piles as she speaks.
“We do have a couple of bookstores in town if you’d like to check those. I can give you names, but I’m sure you already ready where they are, Alden,” she says. “But actually, don’t you already have a better resource than any book in town? What about your friend Phil?” Turning back to me, she says, “Doctor Phillip Gadner should be able to help. He used to be a teacher at some college in Boston. He’s retired now, but he used to teach history. I don’t know if he ever taught about ancient America, but he’s very knowledgeable. I bet he could tell you what you need to know.”
“Yes, thank you, Edna,” my grandpa says, “I was planning on paying Phil a visit later this morning. He’s hosting his book club right now or he would have been our first stop. He should be free soon.”
“Yes, I thought you two were friends. Don’t you and Phil play chess a couple times a week?” Edna asks casually. She seems to know a lot about my grandpa’s free time. The sweet smiles she gives him start to make sense. I wonder if my grandpa even realizes the attention she’s paying him.
“Yes, we do play chess together,” my grandpa says.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before we came here?” I ask. “You know I don’t want to waste any time today.”
He looks at me apologetically. “I knew you would want to run over to Phil’s house as soon as I mentioned it. But trust me when I say that he would not have even opened his door until his book club meeting was over. He takes his book club very seriously.”
“You could have said that from the start. At least I would have had some hope of finding something useful.” I make an irritated noise in my throat. I want to leave. We don’t have time for idle chatter.
“Besides, I thought your idea of coming to the library was a good one. I haven’t been here in a while. I thought maybe they would have something useful,” he says.
“Sorry we didn’t have what you were looking for, dear,” Edna says.
“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll just drop by Phil’s then and see if he’s done with his meeting,” my grandpa says politely.
“Good luck, and have a nice day,” Edna says with a smile meant mainly for my grandfather.
My despondency and irritation lessen with this new glimmer of hope. I grab my grandpa’s hand and begin pulling him away. “Thank you, Edna,” I say, rushing toward the door. “Thank you very much. You’ve been very helpful.”