Tattoo: The Books of Glory

a webserial about people who are not like us

Tattoo Book 4: The Eternal Knot

Posted by harmony0stars on May 3, 2009

She tried to ignore it, hoping whoever was knocking would get the idea and leave, but they kept on knocking, and finally Glory was forced to put down her book and answer the door. She almost wished she had a butler. She had plenty of room to spare, but hiring ‘help‘ would have been awkward at best. Her ‘needs‘ were few and far between.

She’d gone so far as to dismantle the doorbell so that she would not have to think about who and what lay beyond her walls. Most people seemed to get the hint.

After the debacle in Jersey two weeks prior, she wasn’t at all interested in interacting with her fellow man or falling prey to any more of their xenophobic belligerence. She was certain that her house had been watched for several days after she came home, though no one actually knocked on her door or tried to contact her. Not that she had gone out… at all. There was no point since she had no need of food or companionship. Eventually the sensation of being watched, or her paranoia that Miskatonic might have become interested in her, faded away as she buried herself in her books. She’d probably just been imagining things, she hoped.

“No soliciting,” she blurted rudely as she opened the door. “I don’t need a new vacuum or a new religion, and swampland in Florida is better suited to alligators and mosquitoes.”

“I… I’m not selling anything,” yelped the bedraggled middle aged woman, taking a step back. Belatedly she seemed to realize it was still raining and brought her battered black umbrella back up to shield her from the cold spray that snuck under the overhang. “I just… I was told… you could help.”

“By who exactly?” Glory demanded, narrowing her eyes.

“N-never mind. This was a mistake.” As the woman backed down the stairs, a gust of wind grabbed the umbrella from her hands and sent it sailing into the street. “Oh!” she sobbed, running to catch it, even though it was half smashed on one side with two arms ripped through the nylon. She stooped at the curb and was splashed by a passing car as she reached for the broken thing. Like a overtired child, she brought her hands up to her face and let out a pathetic wail, abandoning the umbrella to its watery fate.

“Alright. Alright!” Glory growled. She followed the woman to the sidewalk and snatched the umbrella from its sanctuary between two parked cars. Taking the woman by the elbow, she steered her towards the house. “Enough already!” She was beginning to think she was a magnet for crazy people.

Once they were inside, Glory deposited the woman on a couch in the living room and the umbrella on a table and went in search of a towel. Luckily, since Gil’s unexpected visit earlier in the month, she’d equipped the house with more creature comforts. The towels were a bit dusty since they hadn’t been used since their delivery, but it was nothing whacking them off the bathroom doorframe a few times couldn’t fix.

Glory wrapped one towel around the woman’s shoulders and put the other over her sodden hair. Then she went into the kitchen and put a kettle on for tea. A little chamomile would be therapeutic, even if the woman wasn’t a tea drinker. Glory had never liked tea herself, but she’d always found the smell to be soothing. Hopefully it would have the same affect on her guest.

The woman was still shivering as Glory set a tray of nondairy creamer and sugar on the coffee table and a steaming cup of tea in her hands. At least she wasn’t incoherently sobbing any more. The warmth of the cup did seem to calm her as she looked into its tinted depths.

“So… don’t freak out again, but I really do need to know who sent you.” Glory asserted, picking up the wounded umbrella and tinkering with the arms.

“There was a cop… Hart. He told me maybe you could help me. That at least maybe you would believe me. I wasn’t going to come, but then a friend mentioned you out of the blue. He told me you helped his cousin’s friend‘s sister…”

“Is this like five degrees of Kevin Bacon?” The woman gave her a perplexed look, obviously not getting the lame joke. “Never mind.” So much for lightening the mood.

“…I think his name was Will or Bill…” she fumbled to a stop.

“Gil,” Glory finished for her.

“Yes, that was it. I thought… if two people were telling me to come to you… maybe it was a sign.”

Glory cringed at the idea that anyone was telling anyone to come see her about their problems, let alone that mention of her name was some kind of good omen. “Okay, alright,” Glory sighed. “So what can I do for you, then?”

“You’ll help?” If the woman had not been cradling the tea cup in her hands, she probably would have clutched at Glory’s hands in relief.

“Yeah, since I come so highly recommended. How could I turn you away?” Glory asked ironically, finally managing to hook one of the umbrella’s loose arms into its hole. “What exactly is the problem?”

“It’s my daughter. She’s… missing.”

“I doubt that’s the whole story, or Hart wouldn’t have suggested you come to me.”

“I know she’s alive. I know it!”

“But the police disagree.”

“Jess… wasn’t happy. She hasn’t been happy for a long time. She’s tried to kill herself several times over the years.” She continued to stare into her teacup as Glory tinkered with the umbrella. “The police won’t- they won’t look for her any more. No one’s seen her since January, and they say… that I should… I should prepare myself…” She broke down crying again.

“But the police haven’t found anything then.” Glory asked, taking the cup from the woman’s hands before it tumbled from her shaking hands.

“No, n-nothing. But I know she’s alive, and she needs help. I’ve always been very psychic, and a mother knows.” She stared up at Glory insistently. “I dream about her every night, calling out to me.”

Glory couldn’t help but wonder what her own mother had known about the lives of her children, but kept her thoughts to herself. This woman didn’t need her disparaging thoughts on the nature of mothers. “Alright. So did Hart have something to do with your daughter’s case?”

“No, a Detective Dalton was in charge.“ The way she said Dalton’s name, it was clear what she thought of the man, and Glory didn’t blame her. Though she hadn’t seen him since September, Glory didn’t miss him or the malodorous cloud of nicotine that seemed to follow him like his own personal black cloud. “I never would have met Hart, but my tarot cards told me to try a different precinct.”

“Well, that’s going to be difficult. Dalton and I aren’t the best of friends. My lawyer went to a lot of effort to get him off my back, or so I’ve been told. And I don’t know what Hart told you, but I’m not a detective. I don’t have a license or anything, so there’s no reason for Dalton to help me out if I ask for your daughter’s file.”

“I’ll tell you everything I told him.” She announced with the eagerness and finality of a promise. “I’ve been to see him several times, and I don’t think he’s done anything to find her. If he has a file, you won’t need it. There can’t be much more than my statement in it anyway.”

to Book 4, page 2

Advertisements

3 Responses to “Tattoo Book 4: The Eternal Knot”

  1. here2read said

    ah… a new chapter. thank you

  2. Miladysa said

    😀

    There may be trouble ahead…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: