Secrets At Crescent Point, page 2
I walked towards the arched lampposts that lit up the main cobbled street of the village. After midnight, the shops were closed, but above them, the windows of the apartments lit the way. How had time not touched this place?
The Adder Inn had been on Noble for almost sixty years. My sister, Sonja, used to work the front desk. The red-haired teenager that took my guest card and handed me a key looked vaguely familiar, he’d have been eleven or so when I left. He wasn’t Romany, no recognition sparked in his eyes, and I felt a band of tension loosen from around my chest as I walked down the hall to my room.
I sat at the edge of the twin bed, pulled a bundle of hand-written letters from my bag, and set them next to the lone postcard on the nightstand. After I left, when I was sure that I was alone in the world, my sister had written to me. How she found my address, I will never know, but she reached out from across the miles to give me hope. She was the only one I told that I was returning to Noble Island.
Almost an hour later, a knock at my room’s door, the pattern familiar, made me smile. I rushed to open it, the smile dying on my face when I saw her. “Sonja,” I gasped. “What’s the matter?”
My little sister stood, frail and shaking, her skin pale.
“It’s Niklos…” Her lip trembled, and I took her in my arms. She shuddered against my shoulder. “He—he’s gone.”
“I don’t understand.” I tried to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“We were to meet,” she sobbed and her nails dug into my arms painfully, “in secret, at the caves, but he didn’t come. I–I haven’t heard from him in eight days. Raven, that’s too long. Something is wrong.”
“Sonja, calm down.” I pulled her into the room, checked the hall, and closed the door. She sat on my bed, hugging herself and muttering. Her appearance, disheveled and drawn, sent a trill of worry through me. What had happened to her? “Niklos, from your letter? I didn’t know you two were—”
“That was why I wanted you to come home,” she explained. “The postcard.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re to be married.” Her jaw jutted out, she wiped her face. “I wanted you here. For your support, but I was afraid someone was reading my letters so I couldn’t say…”
“Sonja, what is going on?” Who would read her mail? Why would she need my support? I did not know Niklos, but his family lived at the northern tip of Noble. That much I knew. So many questions whirled through my flustered mind, but her near hysterical state made me stop. She needed comfort first. “Are you sure he is just not out with his friends? You know how young men often—”
“He would not leave without telling me his plans.” She cut across me, her eyes rimmed with tears. “He would not want me to worry like this.”
“What about his family? What did they say?”
“His parents will not speak with me.”
“The council—”
“No one will listen. I thought you might ask Siyah for help.” She grabbed my hands in hers, her eyes pleading. “I know there is still trouble between you and he, but I have no other choice, Raven.”
“Why would Siyah help?”
“He’s on the council. The Cavaler family holds a seat. You know that.”
“But his father holds the position.”
“He is ill. Deakon relies on Siyah to lead,” Sonja said. “He has been leaning more and more on him.”
“But Tomèo is next to shoulder the burden.” I shook my head, not liking that I knew so little about what had happened in my absence. Siyah’s older brother lived to engage in the affairs of the families here and across the country. Not Siyah, at least not when we’d been together. “Why isn’t he doing it?”
“He took a wife from a family that lives in Florida. They married last spring and he joined them there.” Sonja pursed her lips. “Tomèo wanted the elevation in rank his wife’s father offered with the families in the south. He left only a year after you did.”
“I didn’t know.” A fool to believe that my sister’s cheerful letters revealed everything, I flashed on how burdened Siyah appeared, and my jaw clenched. What had his father done? Deakon did whatever he wanted despite the consequences. That, at least, hadn’t changed.
“I’m unable to sleep, Raven. I have dreams that he is alone, that he needs me.” Her face crinkled into sorrow again. “Please, please believe me when I say that I know something is wrong.”
I stroked her hair. “I believe you.”
Relief flooded her sweet face, and she took in a shaking breath. “Will you talk to Siyah?”
Trying to ignore the tumble of my stomach, I nodded. “What about Mama? Did you tell her I was coming? She didn’t answer my last letter.”
“I did. But she was worried that Papa...”
My heart sank. I tried to keep the hurt from showing on my face. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to see her, to feel her embrace. “I’ll talk to Siyah.”
“Tomorrow? Do you promise?” Sonja begged. “It’s been too many days. I’m so worried, Raven.”
“Tomorrow.” I did not tell her I had already spoke to him about her, and felt a pang of guilt.
We sat together and talked about everything but the things that most troubled our hearts. When she tired and fell asleep on my bed, I dozed on the settee in the corner of the room, my thoughts going from Siyah to my parents, and back to him.
Thunder sounded in the distant sky, and I rubbed my elbow, at the ache beginning to throb. An old break, I’d been caught up in waves, not noticing the riptide, and was slammed against rocks near the jetty. The pain overwhelming, I’d nearly blacked out. I remember water closing over my head, muted light of the sun fading as bubbles carried my silent cry, and Siyah’s arm around me as he struggled with us to the surface.
Sure to die if not for his embrace in the darkness, I’d clung to him then, shaking, frightened and suddenly aware that my friend had grown into someone strong. Nearly a man, he looked at me with a love so fierce and so complete that it took my breath away.
I feel like I’m trembling to my soul, Lord. It hurts so much for me to see him again. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to be here and feel all the pain that I fought so hard to leave behind.
I wiped at my eyes, angry at myself for falling back in to this old dance. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I drifted off, a whisper on my lips as I fell away into sleep.
Siyah.
3
Morning brought a pale sun, and I turned my face to it as I perched on a boulder off the path behind the inn. I hugged a deep blue shawl over my white blouse. The hem of my black skirt swished at my ankles. The sheer fabric provided no defense against the cool summer breeze. I ran my fingertips over the pebbled leather of my small bible. It was a gift from a friend back in North Carolina. I traced the gold lettering swirled in fancy script along the bottom: Raven Nevasta.
Kimber, my first friend outside of the families, had taken me in during a time when I was broken and lost. I’d found direction away from home, a tentative peace that my journey back had rattled. Wondering what the day would bring, I whispered a prayer, hoping for something that would help my sister.
When I awoke earlier, Sonja was gone. Disappointed, I read her note asking me to meet her later in the village. I thought she’d come with me to see our parents. A quiver ran through me at the thought. My mother wrote, not often, but steadily. I knew that she wanted to see me, but my father was not so easy. I had defied and embarrassed him when I left, but more importantly, I’d hurt him deeply with what I’d done. A heaviness settled. Would I ever hear his belly laugh or see the jovial twinkle in his eyes again?
“Stop avoiding,” I whispered to myself and got up to head to my parents’ home.
When I entered the forest, I was glad the early hour saved me all but a few curious looks from men leaving for work and children sent out to feed the dogs. I trudged along the dirt path, my heart pounding. The distant chords of a guitar floated to me from across the blooms, a sad song. I concentrated on the flowers scattered among the grasses lining my way, pink and yellow blossoms swayed as my long skirt floated past them, their sweet scent comforting. Overhead, an old oak’s boughs entangled into a green canopy. I smiled when I spied a kite stuck in one of the branches. I’d lost a few to those trees as well.
Talia, a friend of mine from before I left, stood at the door of her faded blue trailer watering a container filled with plants. I smiled and raised my hand, but her startled expression made the greeting fade from my lips. She looked back into the trailer, as if responding to a voice, dropped the watering can, and then went inside without a glance back.
I blinked back the sting of tears and kept going.
Curtains on a traditional Romany covered wagon belonging to a family whose children I’d babysat were quickly drawn shut. All along the road I felt the silent shunning from people I’d known my whole life. The loneliness I’d struggled with on the East Coast was so much more painful here at home. Lump in my throat, I skirted the forest and crossed a field of grass rustling in the slight breeze. Cresting the rise of Black Shore Harbor, I looked at the slips below. Boats floated against the docks, their dark wood hulls barely visible through the fog rolling across the ocean.
Taking the path down to the walkways, I shivered as the misty air kissed my skin. Salt breeze, tangy and pure, filled my lungs, and I breathed in the scent of home. Gulls called overhead, dipping and banking in the sky above the water. On the dock, I scanned the causeway. No one stirred.
My family’s houseboat drifted in its slip at the center of the harbor. I ran a palm along the posts of the wrought iron lamps that marked my way along the weathered planks. The smooth metal and jagged rust brushed against my fingers. I took in a quivering breath and looked at the tarnished bell hanging from a pole marked with the Nevasta name. It clinked softly against the dangling chain. I reached up to ring the bell.
“Stop staring at the bell and come up.”
My mother’s voice startled me.
“Everyone has had their eyeful of you already,” she said from the railing.
She let the stairs down, and I boarded our home. I stood on the deck, not sure of what to do or how to behave.
“Hello, Mama.”
She looked at me, her long black ringlets pulled into a bun atop her head. She opened her arms to me, her beautiful face drawn into a warm smile. “My daughter.” She breathed. “I have missed you so.”
I fell into her arms, the ache in my throat so strong that I could only moan her name between painful breaths. Letters did nothing to quell the longing for her voice. “Mama…” Scents of cooking meats, coffee, and her sweet bread hit me and the tug of nostalgia nearly sent me into tears.
Home.
She pulled back to look at me, clicked her tongue, and directed me to the hatch leading into the galley. “Come, sit–sit. Have something to eat. You are too thin, my little bird.”
I smiled through my threatening tears, took a bite of the bread she gave me, and swayed with the gentle rocking of the boat. I’d not lived on the water for five years now and didn’t realize how much I missed the comfort of the sea.
“I called you,” I said.
She made a clucking sound and nodded to the cell phone I’d sent her. It was tossed in the junk basket at the end of the counter. “It doesn’t work out here. Besides, I write and you write. That way is better. You are here now, and that is all that matters.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you last night, Mama,” I said through the steam of the mug I held to my lips. “I got in late and—”
“How does he look?” she asked, her gaze holding mine. “I hear he has changed.”
I stared into my coffee trying to control my racing pulse. She knew I’d seen Siyah. Of course she did. Spanning the whole of Noble Island and the waters surrounding it, our Romany community was spread out, but very connected.
Mama, avoiding the inner circle of homes in the forest out of shame, may not have seen Siyah, but she would have heard of his doings.
“He was…” I swallowed hard. “He was different.”
“Grown into his title, I hear,” she said. “They say he is the heir apparent now that his brother is gone.” She caught my gaze. My mother had always loved him. She never understood why I left. “And you have changed.” She put her hand over mine. “I do not see the child who ran away, Raven. I see a woman returning to where her heart still beats.”
“Stop, Mama,” I said, and pulled away. “I’m not here to stay. I came for Sonja.”
My mother fiddled with the kitchen towel on her lap and sighed. “Your sister is nursing a bruised ego and nothing more.”
“That’s not what I saw last night.” I shook my head, met her gaze. “She looks distraught. She is terrified that something has happened to Niklos.”
“His father would not agree to the match. That is all this is. Niklos was most likely sent to family elsewhere.” She adjusted the sugar bowl lid, distracted. “She will recover.”
“Most likely?” I stayed her hand, waited until she looked up at me. “But you don’t know for sure? Because Sonja said that he would not disappear without a word like this.”
“Your father would have said something. Niklos would need his blessing.”
“Mama—”
“Have some more coffee.” She rose to get the pot.
I noted the downturn of her lips and knew she had doubts, as well. She would never question out loud what my father told her, but something was troubling her.
“Why would Sonja send for me, then?”
“She always wants her big sister when she is sad.” My mother filled my mug. She sat, looked at me, and shrugged. “Sonja knows your first instinct is to always protect; to cover from harm.”
“She was drawn and pale when I saw her last night.”
“Raven”—my mother made a face—“Do you intend to speak with Siyah about this?”
I nodded. “I promised her.”
“I think there is more to this than we are told,” she muttered.
I stared, confused. “What?”
“So much is changing, churning, here on Noble. A storm is coming, I think.”
Her words left unease in my belly. She sounded as if she knew more than she was saying. I tried to read her expression, but she turned from me, busying herself with wiping sugar grains from the table.
“Why would the match not be approved?” I asked. “Is it me? Because of what I did?”
“It was always intended for Niklos to find a wife from a family in Europe. His mother is from there and they want to maintain ties—”
“Do you believe that?”
“I do.” She pressed her lips together as if cutting off a contradiction. She didn’t believe.
“You don’t think it’s more likely that a family with a council seat would reject the marriage of their precious son to a Nevasta girl?” The venom in my voice surprised me, and I covered my mouth, my eyes blurry with tears. I was afraid of this. That all of the pain and hurt I caused would bleed onto the ones I loved long after I left. Pushing my plate away, I stood and walked to the window that ran the length of the galley. I watched the faded windsocks flutter in the breeze and looked skyward. The wind blew the fog, scattering the mist and sending it back out to sea.
“Raven.” My mother’s stern voice pulled me back to her words. “Look at me.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” I said. “That’s not…”
“You were always headstrong, always needing to make your own way, despite what you were told.”
I turned to her, confused by her words. “So you do blame me?”
“How can I blame you for a nature you were born with?” She smiled. “Maybe you needed to leave your home to see that you belong here after all.”
Sighing, I meant to argue that I hadn’t returned to stay. That I was doing well in North Carolina, but that wasn’t quite true. I was surviving there. I wasn’t living, not really.
“Where would Siyah be? Where can I find him?” I asked instead.
“He has set up a home on the carnival grounds, I hear. With the club doing so well, I believe you’ll find him there.”
“He doesn’t stay near his family?” I was surprised. Deakon lived in the center of the woods in a large cabin. Of course, that was back when Siyah was barely eighteen. When I’d known him as one of Deakon’s boys. But, Sonja still lived with our parents.
“No, he’s preparing—” She shook her head. “Never mind. If you insist on speaking to him about your sister, you will find him at the old boardwalk.”
“What were you just going to say?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the familiar swagger of my father’s approaching figure on the walkway. He called out to a neighboring boat, his baritone audible even from here. “Papa is coming.”
She walked over to peer out the window, and then hurried to the galley, fluttering nervously with his meal.
I watched her with a lump in my throat. When I’d left, he’d told me that if I walked out the door, I would not be welcome back. I shouldn’t be here. I clenched my fists to my sides, determined to meet him head on. I had a right to see my mother despite his anger towards me.
“You must leave,” she said.
I looked at her, exasperated. “I am able to see you without his approval, Mama.”
“Please, fetiţă,” she pled, worry in her eyes. “Do not do this.”
My resolve to face him melted, and I nodded. Causing my mother pain was not what I wanted.
I didn’t understand how he could just turn from me. We’d once been so close. Was I all that bad of a daughter? Perhaps I was. “I’ll go,” I said quietly.
Wrapping the sweet bread in a towel, my mother put the bundle in my hands, relief crossing her face.
“I will be at the market tomorrow. Will you come to see me? We can talk more.”
