The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1)
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The last car pulled out of its parking place at
the park and left us alone.  We stood alongside our respective vehicles
pulling on jackets and scarves and gloves, readying ourselves for the chill
that was sure to come with the setting sun.

“What time does the park close?” I asked, taking
note of the empty parking lot.

“It’s open twenty-four hours to pedestrians,” Bram
answered without waiting for Quinn to interpret for him. 

Once we were all bundled up we headed off to the
trailhead at the end of the parking lot.  My eyes scoped the surroundings,
rapidly trying to take in as much as I could while there was still some
light.  The rich tones of the setting sun brought the forest’s shadows to
life.  They danced along with the changing depths of light and dark,
reflective of the suns final hold on the day.  The echoes of the woodland
inhabitants filled the air as they all scurried about, getting ready for a
night’s rest. 

I looked up at Bram, feeling sad at his inability
to hear the sounds of the woods – the birds, frogs, crickets, sounds that were
as much a part of the forest as the creatures themselves.  But as we
walked, I studied his face. The way he looked around, his expression, the
complete and total connection to the forest, somehow surpassed his sense of
hearing.  I was unable to put my finger on it; it was almost as though he
was in possession of another sense. 

Walking behind him I observed how he periodically
stopped and touched the trees, his eyes scanning the area as if he were
photographing it.  He’d close his eyes and breathe in the air deeply, then
hold his hand up, like he was touching any little molecule floating in the
breeze.  He still responded to sounds deep within the forest, a branch
breaking or an animal scurrying.  He’d look in the direction of the
sound…or maybe it was the direction of the vibration, I couldn’t be
sure.   He was so in tune to his surroundings that at one time I
found myself wondering if he really was deaf.  I quickly pushed that
thought out of my head realizing how ludicrous it was. His reception of sounds
left me totally confused, until I remembered my own connection to the forest
and how it felt like I knew every inch of it when I had shifted.  Maybe
Bram had that ability outside of shifting. 

After hiking for about twenty minutes we decided
to stop.  Kelleigh and Quinn were trying to get back to the spot where I’d
shifted but were arguing about where that was.  I felt like I could find
the place myself but decided to let them figure it out.

Bram interrupted their bickering. “We’re close,”
he said, leaning over to tie his shoe.

“Are you sure?” Kelleigh questioned, looking all
around. “This doesn’t look familiar.”

Bram stood up and reached his hand out to me.
“We’re close,” he said once more, ignoring her questions.  He grabbed my
hand as we made our way over a fallen pine, a small creek, and some huge
boulders, finally stepping into the familiar clearing.  Moments later,
Quinn and Kelleigh joined us, still arguing.

I became oblivious to the sound of their voices
and even to their presence.  I immediately felt a sense of being at home
as I stood in the center of the clearing, which seemed to be the very spot
where I had experienced shapeshifting.  Looking down at the ground I found
myself transfixed on the patterns made by pieces of twig and pine needles and
dirt.  The ground had never appeared so alive to me before, almost map-like. 
I felt that if I studied the patterns enough I’d be able to find my way around
the whole forest…just by examining the earth.

My eyes climbed the landscape from the ground to
the tree-lined horizon to the sky overhead.  The connection to this place
was unmistakable, almost ancient.  I began walking straight ahead and
instinctively knew I was heading due north – a task unbelievable in its own
right since I hadn’t been blessed with a sense of direction, up until that
moment.  In my mind’s eye I could see a small creek within a few feet and,
sure enough, I discovered the very creek as I walked.  A large rock
formation would be another ten feet straight ahead, and just as I imagined,
there it was. I felt invigorated, and more in control than I had ever felt in
my life.

My head swam with the intensity of this place. Thoughts
were no longer verbal but visual; images of various landmarks played across my
mind. And they all were familiar to me, not only recognized, but known,
memorized.  I was completely capable of finding each landmark as soon as I
viewed it.  One after another flashed and I ran to it: a small cave hidden
in a rock formation jutting out of the earth, a waterfall trickling down the
side of a huge boulder and then feeding into a crystal pool, a lake surrounded
by tall pines.  Each place I knew and ran to, and quickly ran to the next. 
As I stood at the lake and stared across its rippling waters I felt the
presence of my friends drawing near.  I lowered my head to the ground to
sip the cool water and caught sight of my own reflection.  I was the
wolf.  I stared deep into my eyes reflecting back at me and saw my
friend’s images dancing on the water.  I quickly spun round, frightening
Quinn and Kelleigh, who immediately stepped back.  Bram stayed his ground
and lowered himself to look into my eyes. My heightened senses began to relax
as he lifted his hand and stroked the back of my neck.  He spoke softly
and in an ancient language.  I closed my eyes and grew weak and blacked
out.

When I woke up I was sitting in Bram’s car. 
He stood directly in front of the car along with Quinn and Kelleigh.  They
were having a heated discussion.  My ears began to tune into the
conversation and I made out Kelleigh’s excited voice urging Bram to allow me
back into the forest.  He refused, saying it wasn’t the right time and
that they were lucky to have found me this time.

I opened the door and stepped out to join
them.  Three pairs of eyes instantly shot at me, studying me intently and
making me really uncomfortable. “What’s going on?” I mumbled, still holding
onto the door, feeling a little lightheaded.

Bram joined me and put his arm around my waist,
“You feeling ok?”

“I’m fine, a little dizzy, but ok.”

“Willow, that was awesome!” shrilled Kelleigh as
she raced over to hug me.  Quinn drew closer with a gigantic smile on his
face.

“You rock, Willow,” he bellowed, hands dancing for
Bram’s benefit. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Ok, so I did shift then, huh?”  I rubbed the
back of my neck, easing the tension that had built up.

“Most definitely,” Kelleigh replied still holding
onto me. “Don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, I remember, but it felt different this
time.”

“How?” Kelleigh loosened her grip and turned to
face me.

“It’s weird, I wasn’t even aware that I’d
shifted.  It felt completely natural.   I still felt like
me…only better, stronger.  I became conscious of a connection to the
forest and felt like I knew where everything was; that I could find my way
around and knew what to look for.  I was drawn to certain spots, not sure
why though.”  I felt Bram rub the back of my neck, much like he’d done
while I was changed.  I looked over to Quinn, “Did you sign that for him?”

“Aye,” Quinn answered, still communicating to
Bram.

“This is incredible, Willow.  I’m trying to
convince Bram that you should go into the woods again.  Obviously you need
to discover something there, don’t you think?” Kelleigh’s cheeks were flaming
red with excitement as she spoke.

“Yeah, I only wish I knew what that was.” I leaned
back against the car.

“Kelleigh, be reasonable,” Bram began, “it’s dark,
it’s cold, and we’re lucky we found her this time.  There’s no telling
what would happen if she got away from us.”

Kelleigh ignored Bram and kept urging me on to
take another trip into the forest while Quinn and Bram started up their own
conversation.  Watching Bram I could see his expression grow dark and
almost angry, his arms and hands flailing while he tried desperately to get his
point across to Quinn.  All the while Quinn remained calm but reserved,
trying to convince Bram to see things his and Kelleigh’s way. 

My eyes danced from Bram to Quinn then to Kelleigh
and back again.  All of them were adamant about what I should be
doing…none of them even considering asking me what I thought.  That
realization stirred up a fire deep inside of me and before I knew it I was
yelling.

“Just stop it, all of you!  This is my
decision, not yours, Kelleigh; or yours, Bram; or yours, Quinn,” my voice
screeched with each name. “You act like I’m unable to decide what I should be
doing!  I’m the one going through this, not you.”  After I said it I
shot Bram a threatening glance, reminding him that I knew his secret and would
spill it if he kept treating me like some kind of child. “I appreciate you all
wanting to help me but I’m the one who needs to decide what to do next. 
And what I’m going to do next is to go back to the hotel, check in with my dad
and think about what just happened.  I’m sorry if this bothers any of you
but that’s my decision.”

I watched Quinn interpret my fiery words to Bram,
ready to meet his stare when he realized what I’d just said.  A calm,
almost serene look took over his face.  He nodded slightly, reached into
his pocket and pulled out his car keys, “Let’s go, then.  Bye, you two.”
He was in the car revving the engine while Quinn, Kelleigh and I looked
on. 

Kelleigh shrugged and pulled me in for a hug, “All
right, Willow, as you wish; call me later though, ok?”

“I will, thanks, Kelleigh,” I whispered tightening
our hug and then letting go.

Quinn stood in front of the car, signing to
Bram.  He threw a look my way; I guess in reference to whatever it was he
was saying.  Catching my stare he grinned and ended their conversation,
then made his way over to me.  “Way to speak up, lass,” he said, cocking
his head to one side.  With a punch on my arm he winked, then ran to catch
up to Kelleigh.

The drive back to the hotel was as quiet as a
church at midnight.  Bram looked over at me a few times but I decided not
to return his stare.  I just needed to think.  When we did arrive at
the hotel, he turned off the ignition but remained in his seat, looking out the
front window. 

“I’m glad you wanted to come back and really, I’m
not trying to control you or anything like that.  It’s just that I know
how it feels… to shift, it can be frightening.  I only wanted to help you
through it as much as I could.  Sorry if I came off like some kind of
domineering oaf.” He kept looking out the window with the most serious
expression I’d ever seen on his face.  I felt bad for taking my
frustrations out on him.  I knew he only was trying to help. 

I reached my hand over to his, still clutching the
steering wheel, and stroked it softly.  He looked my way, his dark eyes
focused and intent.  At that moment I could feel the depth of his caring,
just by looking into his eyes.  Words failed me, and even seemed
unnecessary for those moments when our eyes were locked.  If it weren’t
for the vibration of my phone in my pocket, who knows how long we’d have sat
there, lost in each other’s gaze. I looked down at the phone and quickly
answered my father’s call.

“Hey Dad, everything ok?”

“Eh, just wondering when you thought you’d be
back,” he answered, his voice sounding much farther away than the few feet that
separated us.

“I’m here now, just thanking Bram for the ride.”

“Ok, see you when you get up here.”

“My dad,” I said to Bram then quickly shot him a
text:

“I didn’t mean to get angry at you, sorry. 
There’s so much I wanted to talk to you about but with Quinn and Kelleigh there
I didn’t think I better.  I have tons of questions.”

“I know, that’s why I wanted to get you out of
there.  Do you have time now to come and meet Da?”  Bram asked,
holding onto my hand.

I shook my head no and texted, “Dad wondered when
I’d be back.  I’d better make sure he’s ok.  I’ll text you when I
find out how he is, ok?” 

Bram smiled. “Sounds good.” He took both of my
hands in his and then kissed the back of each one.  He leaned in as if he
were about to kiss me.  I quickly turned and opened the door and slid out
of the car.  I stood there with the door still open.  He sat back in
the seat.  The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes
narrowed. 

“I can’t right now,” I whispered, feeling like I
couldn’t bring myself to share our first kiss at that moment.

He smiled a half smile. “I understand, no hurry.”

I kissed the fingers of my left hand and blew him
a kiss.  He reached up and caught it and pressed it to his heart.

Chapter Sixteen

 

“Dad, no!” I rushed onto the balcony and hugged
him, tears streaming from my eyes.

“Calm down, honey, let’s not assume the
worst.  Eagan said his condition is stabilized and he’s in the best place
he can be,” Dad replied, wrapping me up in his arms.

“I can’t believe this. Poor Grandpa.  Can we
go see him?” I stretched my arms across his chest and sank my head onto his
shoulder.

Dad pulled me back into the hotel room and grabbed
a tissue then wiped my eyes.  “Try to relax; it could’ve been much
worse.  Good thing Eagan was there and got him to the hospital so
fast.  He’ll be ok.  I need to go over to his house and pack a bag
for him; then I’ll head to the hospital.  You want to come with me to do
that?”

“’Course Dad, anything I can do.”  I wiped
away the last few tears.

“Let’s go then.”

Bram sat waiting in his car as Dad and I came out
of the hotel.  I hurried over to him and explained that Grandpa had a
heart attack and was at the hospital, and that Dad and I would be going to see
him.  I told him that I’d call him as soon as I could.  And in what
was becoming typical Bram fashion, he offered his help in any way and asked me
to keep him updated. 

When we arrived at Grandpa’s house a chill ran
down my spine.  Momentarily I was transported back to the car and the dark
figure perched on top of it.  The chill was quickly replaced with deep
concern for Grandpa.  When we stepped inside his little house, we found the TV on,
as were the lights and the oven with a well-done meatloaf roasting
inside.  Dad hurriedly went through the house turning things off while I
placed the incinerated meatloaf in the sink. 

“I’ll go get a bag together, be right back,” he
yelled as he ascended the stairs.

I thought I smelled a burning candle so I began to
hunt where the aroma might be coming from.   I pinpointed the scent
to Grandpa’s study…the room where he and I sat together and had that first
conversation.  The room where I promised him I’d come back for a visit; and
here I was, but Grandpa wasn’t.  I blew out the vanilla-scented flame and
let my eyes search the area, rich with faded pictures and memories.

I looked over at his roll-top desk in hopes of
seeing the torn picture that was there before, the one that must’ve been a
family portrait.  The whole stack of photographs was now gone and the desk
itself had been tidied up. I sat down on the chair and gave in to the impulse
to open the top drawer which was already pulled out a few inches. I caught
sight of an old wooden box.  The top was inlaid with different types of
wood made into a picture of a hillside and a full moon.  Standing alone on
the hilltop was a wolf.  I opened it and was surprised by the tinkling
sound of a music box.  But different than any music box I’d ever heard;
instead of a pinging sound, this one had a clear, rich, flute-like quality. I
turned the box over, trying to see where the music came from, but nothing was
visible.  Whatever produced the sound was built squarely into the
box.  I couldn’t imagine how the tone was so clear and rich. I once again
opened the box and noticed papers tucked carefully inside.  After
wrestling with my conscience for a few seconds, my curiosity won out and I
removed the papers.

The first one was a letter that had been
folded.  I carefully opened it and was surprised to see my own name neatly
written on the envelope.  The name on the return address was Shannah
Whelan…Grandma.  She had written to me.  But why hadn’t I received it? 
I looked at the postmark and made out the faint stamp dating back three years
ago.  It had been mailed to our old address.  We hadn’t lived there
for at least five years.  I guess Dad never sent the new address to
Grandma. 

I studied her handwriting; the easy flow of the
letters, the slight slant to the right was much like Dad’s, only more refined,
prettier.  I held it there in my hand, trying to decide if I should open
it.  The urge was strong but I knew Dad would be coming back any second,
ready to go to the hospital.  I didn’t want to rush through this
moment.  I wanted to be able to slowly and carefully open the letter and
take in each and every word without distraction.  I hushed the voice in my
head that said this wasn’t the right thing to do and I quickly tucked the
envelope in my pocket. 
It is addressed to me, after all,
I
decided.

The sound of Dad’s boots echoed on the stairs and
found their way into the study where I waited. “I’ve got the bags packed, we
should get going,” he said, handing me a second, smaller bag.  “Not sure
how long he’s going to be there so I just packed enough for a couple of
days.  We can always come back to get more if –” Dad’s voice trailed off
as he began looking around the small room.

 He stood quietly, motionless with the
exception of a few turns of his head.  It seemed as though he was taking
in all the subtle nuances of the room.  The walls covered with the history
of his alienated family along with the sweet smell of tobacco rising from the
pipe sitting on the square wooden ash tray.  I wondered how long it’d been
since he was in this room and what it was like…the last time he was here. His
eyes stayed frozen on the worn pair of plaid slippers lying on the floor.  A
low exhale sounded from his chest while he reached down and grabbed the
slippers.  After studying them for a few seconds he unzipped the bag he
was carrying and tucked them inside.

“He may want these,” he mumbled, inching out of
the room.

 

Once we arrived at the hospital Eagan began giving
out instructions on how to proceed with Grandpas care.  According to him
the heart attack was a mild one, but the doctors were very concerned about his
state of mind and the fact that he’d yet to respond to anyone.  Even
though his condition was stable they wanted to keep him in the E.R.  Eagan
suggested that Dad get over to the hospital administration and help them get
all the paperwork in order.  I could tell from Dad’s expression that he
was less than thrilled with the idea.  Mom was the one who would keep
track of everything.  He’d call her “The Organizer” because of her knack
at keeping things together. But he agreed, as Eagan suggested, asking me to
come along.

“Do you mind, Jack, m’boy,” Eagan began, his voice
sounding tired; “I’d welcome a chance to have Willow keep me company until the
doctor comes.”

Dad’s face flushed as he shrugged and nodded
ok.  He grabbed the stack of papers from the table and left the room,
glancing back for a quick look at his father.

“This is a terrible time for your dad, ain’t it,
Willow?” Eagan asked pulling a chair next to himself and patting the seat. I
sat down near the foot of the bed where Grandpa lay.  It felt weird to see
him lying there, hooked up to tubes and machines.  Eagan softly touched my
hand, bringing me back to his question.

“Yeah it is, and you too.  What are they
saying, Uncle Eagan…any idea when he can go home?”

“Ah, well, going home isn’t really the topic of
conversation just yet.  He needs to be stabilized and he also needs to be
communicating.  He still isn’t talking.”  Eagan rubbed his chin as he
spoke, eyes focused completely on Grandpa.

As we spoke, I noticed that Grandpa’s foot would
twitch occasionally.  It seemed to have missed Eagan’s attention and I
didn’t point it out to him.  It made me aware of the fact that he could
hear us so I chose my words carefully as we talked. 

As a rule, hospitals freaked me out and I could
count on one hand the number of times I had actually ever visited one, but for
some reason, sitting here with my grandfather, I wasn’t uncomfortable. 
Concerned, yes, but able to deal with the situation.  I guess with
everything else that had been going on, a trip to a hospital verged more on
normalcy than my other recent experiences.

A nurse soon came into the room to record
Grandpa’s condition, which gave Eagan a chance to step out to get a cup of
coffee.  After the nurse left I was alone with my grandfather.  I
pulled my chair over to the side of the bed and sat closer, hoping to see some
sign of consciousness returning.  I leaned in slightly, whispering “Hi
Grandpa, it’s me, Willow.”

About twenty seconds after I spoke he started
moving his legs under the sheets.  His expression was unchanged but he
definitely was moving about more now than when we first arrived. 
“Grandpa, can I do anything for you?”  I reached over and held his hand as
I spoke.  Surprisingly I felt a grip in response to mine.  “Hi,
Grandpa, it’s Willow.”

He slowly began stirring
again and moving his head.  His eyelids twitched and his lips
pursed.  Within a few seconds he started blinking rapidly.  He
quickly turned his head to my direction then stared as if trying to recognize
me.  I smiled and held onto his hand.

He began to look around the room, jerking his head
from side to side.  A frightened look took over his face as he grabbed
hold of one of the tubes inserted into his arm.  He tugged at it, which
triggered an alarm, causing him to panic even more.  I took hold of his
hand and pried it off of the IV tube. “Grandpa, you’re in the hospital,” I
said, “but everything is ok…you’re ok.”

He tried to speak but only produced low grunts and
groans.  He continued searching the room with his eyes.  The nervous
expression on his face grew in intensity as he scoped out his
surroundings.  I realized that he must be wondering where he was and what
was happening. 

“Grandpa, you’re in the hospital but everything is
ok,” I repeated in an effort to ease his worried mind. “Dad is here. He’ll be
back in a few minutes, ok?”  I held tight onto his hand; his agitation
lessened with the mention of Dad.  He narrowed his eyes as he studied me.
Then a small smile crept across his face as his head once again nestled into
the pillow.  He mumbled something incomprehensible and blinked his eyes
heavily before slipping off into a deep slumber. 

The frantic beeping of the machines quickly slowed
down just as the nurse stepped into the room. “What’s all this…the panel was
lit up like a Christmas tree,” she exclaimed with a thick Irish accent,
checking his pulse.  “Yet here I find him fast asleep!”

“He woke up, started looking around, and
panicked.  I told him everything was ok and that my Dad was here.  He
relaxed after that and fell asleep again.” I held onto Grandpas wrist and sat
back down.

“Good girl,” she answered, straightening the
bedding and adjusting the tubes feeding into Grandpas’ arm.  “You’d make a
charming nurse, you would,” she smiled, winking at me.

“What’s going on here, Claire?” Eagan asked,
spilling coffee on his shirt and the polished linoleum floor. He sat the
Styrofoam cup down on the nightstand and wiped himself off.

“Oh, look at you, Mr. Whelan; you are a mess,
aren’t you?”  Claire spun around and before he even had time to respond
had Eagan wiped off and dry. “Your brother’s granddaughter here calmed him down
and had him fast asleep before I even had a chance to get into the room. 
I told her she’d make a great nurse.”

“That she would, Claire; too bad she has to come
in and do your job for you, lass,” joked Eagan.

“Arghh,” growled Claire, shaking a fist in the
air.  “You’re lucky I’m in a forgiving mood today, young man,” she reached
into her pocket to silence the pager that had just gone off.  “Saved by
the bell you are!” 

Eagan’s charm was apparent wherever he went. 
He had an uncanny ability to make people comfortable and at ease, no matter the
situation.  I still couldn’t imagine that he and Grandpa were
brothers.  Grandpa was so melancholy and serious, and Eagan, so outgoing,
the life of the party.  Of course, all I had to go on was what I’d been
told about Grandpa and my own brief experience with him.  How could he be
anything but melancholy…I mean, the first time I met him was the day of his
wife’s funeral. 

But even with that, I couldn’t picture Eagan
getting down about anything.  The only time I’d seen any trace of emotion
or worry on him was when he lost Cryer that night at the park.  And even
then he was irrepressible, making jokes, telling stories.

Where did he get his inner strength,
I
wondered while I watched him lean over his brother, untangling a tube that was
caught up in the equipment.  He wasn’t a young man himself, yet he carried
himself that way. I realized I didn’t know much about him.  What about his
wife?  I knew about his sons, but no mention was ever made about their
mother.  Something I’d have to ask Dad about when things settled
down. 
When will that be?
I asked myself, feeling a lot more
relaxed now that Grandpa had at least roused for a short time and seemed to
understand what I was saying to him.

“Did Conor say anything to you, Willow?” Eagan
asked, lowering himself into the chair next to the bed.

“He tried to but I couldn’t understand him. He
seemed scared at first, when he started looking around the room. I guess he
realized he was in a hospital.  So I told him everything was ok and he was
going to be all right.  Once I mentioned that Dad was here and would be
right back, he relaxed.”

“That’s great, darlin’,” he replied, slowly
sipping his coffee, his gaze riveted on his older sibling.

I wondered what was going in his mind.  It
must be hard to see your brother suffering like that.  And yet there he
was, unaffected by anything, able to transmit an air of peacefulness throughout
the entire room.  It felt like as long as Eagan was around everything
would be ok. We sat quietly for several minutes before Dad returned with more
papers.

“I can’t believe all this is necessary,” he
grumbled, tossing the stack to the small nightstand near the bed.  “How’s
he doing?” He moved to the opposite of the bed and began looking at all the
equipment hooked up to Grandpa. 

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