Moses & Mac, page 27
part #1 of Vatican Archaeological Service Series
“Does he have a name?”
“He did when he was alive, but he never told me. We only spoke when it was necessary. I never knew it was him, however, until much later. But he always knew when I needed him and came.” She took my hands. “Moses’ rod is too dangerous for this world. It needs to go home—to Moses and I need to go home, too. I’m long…overdue. I can’t keep…almost dying. It takes something from me each time and I’m never the same afterwards.” Tears sprang into her eyes. “You will bring me home, too, Mackenzie?”
Words were stuck in my throat. I swallowed hard to get them through. “You don’t want to see Gran and Granddad? Uncle James, my dad, Uncle Brian or Aunt Louise? All my horrible sisters and the men who love them?”
She laughed. “Of course, I do, and I tried six months ago when I offered the rod to Khalid and Zahira. I just wanted to go home to my family. I wanted my parents’ forgiveness…before I couldn’t get it anymore. But it just isn’t to be.”
“They’d give it to you! No questions asked!” I squeezed her hands. “They would have you back! I give it to you in their name! Come home, Aunt Sara. Come home.”
Tears were flowing down her cheeks, but she smiled. “It’s better this way, Mackenzie. Logan knows what to do and say. I don’t want any lies about my death…only my life has to remain a lie—for everyone’s safety.” She put the twigs together and they fused. She opened the trapdoor of the cage and took the serpent by the tail. It turned into the rod and she pulled it out. “The piece Yaaqob carved out for me belongs here.” She showed me the carved section on the rod. “Once I put it back, the rod will be whole again and it will be with Moses. And I will be wherever God puts me.”
I brushed the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have gotten to know you.”
“But you do know me. You know me better than anyone else.” She put her hand on my cheek. “I knew from the moment I held you at that baptismal font, that you and I were going to do something special together and I was right. I followed your life from wherever I was and even though you looked stalled and sometimes unhappy, I knew you would get yourself going again. We’re kindred spirits. We can’t sit back and let the world happen. We want to be part of what makes the world happen.” She kissed my cheeks. I pulled her against me and held tight. After a long moment, she let me go. “Why don’t you go to Eoin now? He seems a good man.”
I didn’t want to leave but if it was hard for me, I was sure it was even harder for her. I couldn’t do that to her.
I moved to the door and opened it. Everyone stood up. Eoin came toward me, concern in his eyes.
I turned back around. “Aunt Sara?”
But she was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The taxi pulled up in front of my home the next evening. It had only been seven days since I had left on my mission to find Moses’ rod, but my home looked foreign. I had found so much, done so much, become so much but had to keep it all under wraps in the name of VAS confidentially. I wasn’t bothered by the oath of secrecy because I had a brand-new badass attitude that I was sure would find its way around my family, friends and work. I also had Eoin. He was the unexpected bonus.
I went inside while Eoin grabbed the box with the only things I had been able to bring back—Aunt Sara’s boots, hat and saddle bag. I didn’t even have my saddle bag. It was still at Prince Khalid’s castle, waiting to be shipped to the VAS Offices below Saint Basil’s Church along with everything else belonging to Aunt Sara.
I climbed the flight of stairs and opened the door to my apartment. My mom and dad, both sets of grandparents, my sisters and their families, Kaitlyn, and even my bestie Carla and her rich hubby and kids stared back at me. Happy birthday signs and balloons were everywhere.
All five feet of my mother charged up to me. “Where have you been? We had this set up for over a week ago and could never get a hold of you. Father Logan of all people said you had gone off on some last-minute research project.”
My father ambled to her side, wearing a pointy birthday hat that read, ‘29 Forever!’ “Did you find a long-lost Jane Austen manuscript, Mackie?”
Eoin appeared behind me. Everyone went quiet as gazes flew over me to him.
Eoin put a hand around my shoulder. “It’s my fault, Mr. and Mrs. Braden. I took Mackenzie away on a surprise trip for her birthday. Uncle Logan covered for us.”
I rested my head against his shoulder. Why not? I was badass, wasn’t I?
My mother’s face softened, including my grandmothers’ behind her. My sisters’ faces couldn’t get past surprise while my father grinned from ear to ear.
Eoin dropped the box and extended his hand to my mother. “I’m Eoin Reilly.”
My father extended his hand over my mother’s shoulder. “Irish?”
“Born in Dublin, Mr. Braden, but brought here at three months of age.”
What more could an Irish-born dad want?
He spied the Manchester United cap in his jacket pocket. “Manchester United?”
“Of course.”
My dad’s happiness was complete.
Everyone came to life. They pushed me away and gathered around Eoin for introductions.
I managed to butt my way through them and to the coffee table that held a big slab of Black Forest cake with ‘Happy 30th Birthday, Mackenzie’ and a fat bottle of champagne, chilling in a bucket of ice. Eoin and my family would be busy for a while. I grabbed a flute, poured myself some champagne and drank it.
It was the best birthday I had never celebrated.
Epilogue
Hassan’s dream came true. He got to see Juventus play Manchester United with Talib, Saad, Father Gustave, Cardinal Z and the Pope. Instead of returning to Egypt he remained in Rome and became Cardinal Z’s apprentice. He opened up a pop-up gallery in downtown Rome, hung the selfies we had taken in Aunt Sara’s office in larger-than-life frames, and started a new art movement. He’s still thinking about what professional name or initials to go by.
Adiva gave up long-sleeved shirts, skirts, stockings and flats for tank tops, jeans, cowboy boots and pierced ears and nose. She switched from pharmaceutical sciences to nuclear chemical engineering with the focus on bombs. Her thesis was sanctioned by both the Israeli military and Mossad, who expressed a keen interest in it. She became the official Israeli VAS agent in training and gloriously became the scandal of her family. I don’t know who she’s madly in love with now. She won’t tell me, but she has been visiting the Congo regularly.
Sophie returned to England and to Interpol head office where she got a stern warning never to go rogue again. In the next sentence she was offered full agent status and became their VAS liaison. Her mother’s body was identified and brought to Oxford where Sophie buried her next to her father. I sent her the Jimmy Choo shoes and she’s learning to kick ass with them. I also sent her the external hard drive with her mother’s research and messages, which she dearly treasures. The other bodies were also identified and returned to their respective homes. Their families were grateful for the closure.
VAS Headquarters was officially reopened by the Pope, and Father Gustave became Assistant Director to Cardinal Z. He’s in charge of recruiting and training new agents and sends them all to Toronto to do practicums with Father Logan and Rabbi Sever.
Prince Khalid’s castle was raided by the Jordanian secret service along with Interpol. The CIA, RCMP, and Mossad got to watch on the sidelines, while Father Gustave’s colleagues acted as consultants. As Assistant VAS Director, Father Gustave contacted the Jordanian secret service and everything they found in Aunt Sara’s office was packed and sent to me. The office below Saint Basil’s Church is now overrun with all her stuff. We’ve been slowly going through it, but it will take years to properly do justice to all Aunt Sara found.
Prince Khalid died the instant the bullet went through his forehead. He was buried the very next day in a mausoleum on his grounds. His vast empire was divided among his children and someone else who was never named. I put my bet on Zahira. She may have had her hand bitten off and devoured whole by the serpent, but her body was never recovered, and she was never seen from again. I figured she went underground. She’d done that before and was good at it. Prince Khalid’s brother was buried next to him. They’re probably trying to outdo each other in hell.
Eoin’s narcolepsy cleared up miraculously. As Father Gustave would say, the twig was with him. The jet he flew to Jerusalem did actually belong to Aunt Sara, and guess what? I inherited it. I gave it to Eoin (what the heck was I going to do with a jet). He became VAS’s official pilot and when he’s not transporting a VAS agent-in-training, Father Gustave or Cardinal Z to meetings, he flies customers around the world. Sometimes I tag along. Neither one of us has said the big life-changing “L” word but I think about it and I hope he thinks about it, too.
Yes, we did try out the dungeon play room. It was rather cramped, and I couldn’t stop laughing at the executioner’s mask on Eoin, which effectively killed any passion. We ended up turning the room into a library before my parents and his mother took a ride even though my dad would have been like the kid in the curiosity shop. (Gracie, how do I look? Gracie, take a picture! Come on, Gracie, try it on!) My mom would have been politely shocked.
After my birthday celebration, I had the daunting task of breaking the news about Aunt Sara. I kept my father and his brothers and sister back. I placed the Mont Blanc pen, silver bookmark, Chaddagh ring and Celtic Cross Knot pendant in front of them. It didn’t take them long to understand. The next night, along with Father Logan and RCMP Commissioner Donald Arlington, we broke the news to my Grandmother Doris and Grandfather Seamus.
Commissioner Arlington told them Aunt Sara had been a top secret RCMP and Interpol agent in charge of biblical artifacts. She had been deep undercover for all those years away and broken up many theft rings of priceless artwork and artifacts. Of course, no one can still believe the story, but they have no choice.
Rabbi Sever brought back Aunt Sara’s body. My family gave her a proper funeral, presided over by Fathers Logan and Gustave and by Cardinal Z. She now lies in Prospect Cemetery where my Grandmother Doris visits her often. She likes me to go with her. She says she feels closer to her daughter with me there, and I can understand that.
As for me, well, I became the Numero Uno International VAS Agent in Charge of all Antiquities. Badass title, right? According to my job description, if rumors start about some artifact, I am the first to be sent to investigate. I’m still waiting for a rumor, which is fine by me. I have lectures to give at the university, papers to grade, a research paper to finish writing, Eoin to keep busy and a life to lead.
By the way, I sold the diamond earrings and bracelet Prince Khalid gave me. I bought that little Edwardian house in the Annex with the money. It needs a lot of renovations but with a big Irish and Italian family, I have many offers to tear out walls, sand down hardwood, and put in new fixtures. Eoin helped me move in and visits regularly—okay—he practically lives there. The first things I brought in were Aunt Sara’s leather boots, hat, and saddle bag, which are buffed, sitting in my closet, and ready for the next package to arrive.
Guess what? So am I.
About F. Pelaccia
Franca Pelaccia lives in Toronto, Canada, where she teaches by day and writes by night. Moses & Mac, an action/adventure/mystery is the first book of the Vatican Archaeological Service series. The second book is tentatively entitled Mac & the Crusaders. Writing as Francesca Pelaccia, Franca self-published The Witch’s Salvation, a historical paranormal novel, which won Beck Valley’s Top Ten Reviewers’ Choice of 2013. Under the pseudonym of Kirsten Paul, Franca has written two romantic comedies, entitled The Hockey Player & the Angel and The Detective & the Burglar. She has blogged on the craft of writing genre and reviews novels for the Historical Novels Society.
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Acknowledgements
There are several people who helped me put together Moses & Mac. My thanks to Mary Benincasa, who authenticated the biblical background and assured me that the ramblings of my premises wouldn’t land me into trouble with any higher beings. I also want to thank
David De Rose, who made sure all the aviation stuff was sound. Thank you to Marilyn Brand, who gave valuable feedback and checked for pesky typos and errant grammar and structure. I am also grateful to Carmela Chianelli, who read Moses & Mac for reader appreciation. A big thank you to Ruth Bay of North 17 Design Group, who took my scattered ideas and created the Vatican Archeological Service seal.
Franca Pelaccia, Moses & Mac
