Author's note: Not a part of my regular AU Voyage universe, this is
a stand alone story.
Crossroads
by Storm
And Ichabod.“ said the
sinister black cloaked figure standing silhouetted against the dying embers of
the fireplace, “looked over his shoulder and saw the Headless Horseman gaining
on him…“
A bright flash at the windows
followed by a nearly instant boom produced shrieks from the half dozen plus
children who were gathered around the speaker, hanging on every word. Chip
Morton, seated in a corner, felt himself jump with the youngsters who were his
nieces and nephews. Damn, he thought to himself, how did he do that?
The speaker gave an evil
rolling laugh and continued. “He kicked his horse, urging it to run even
faster, trying to get across the bridge, because he knew that if he could beat
the Horseman across, he’d be safe. But just as his horse reached the bridge,
the Horseman threw the flaming pumpkin at him and…” The speaker paused,
producing breathless anticipation in the children.
“And what, Uncle Lee?”
squeaked the youngest.
“Well,” said the cloaked man,
who was really Lee B. Crane, captain of the submarine Seaview, “Nobody
really knows. They found Ichabod’s horse the next morning back home, scared
white and having almost run himself to death. When they traced his hoof prints
back along the road all they found was a smashed pumpkin in the middle of the
road at the end of the bridge. There was no sign of either Ichabod or the
Horseman. And poor Ichabod was never seen again.”
“Gee, Uncle Lee,” said one of
the older kids, “was Ichabod a relative of yours?”
Lee smiled at the boy but
gave Chip a look that said, I’ll get you for this, and replied, “Not
that I know of. Since he never married and didn’t have any children, it’s not
very likely.” There were nods all around from the youngsters. He glanced up at
the clock on the mantle and added, “Those cookies your Grandma was baking ought
to be done about now.” He pretended to sniff the air. “Something smells good.
Why don’t you go see what it is?”
With squeals of delight, the
horde of children bounced to their feet and headed for the kitchen. Chip got up
to follow.
“Mr. Morton.” Chip stopped
dead in his tracks and cut his eyes back at Lee, who was giving him a fierce
scowl. “You know I don’t particularly like having to tell that story.”
“Er,” gulped Chip, resisting
the urge to stand at attention and salute, “I didn’t put them up to it. Honest.
One of the teachers at school read a version of the story to them yesterday.
And with your last name being Crane…” He trailed off helplessly.
Lee studied him for a moment
more before finally dropping his glare with an unhappy sigh. “I’m sorry, Chip.
I shouldn’t have snapped at you about it. And I know you wouldn‘t do that to me
anyway. I just wasn‘t expecting the kids to pick me to be the
Storyteller this year. They’ve always picked you or your grandfather before.”
Chip’s own sigh was from
relief. He’d known since their days at the Academy that Lee didn’t care for the
story of the Headless Horseman, but he’d never known why. And he truly hadn’t
put the kids up to asking Lee to tell it. “It’s okay, Lee. Friends can take the
heat. You could have turned them down, you know.”
Lee shook his head. “I didn’t
want to disappoint them, Chip. Even if I did have to wear this… thing.” He
lifted one edge of the cloak and scowled at it.
Shaking his head, Chip told
him, “If you didn’t want to wear it, you should have said so.” He tilted his
head to one side to study his friend and added, “I just wish you’d let me in on
why you dislike that particular story, though.”
Lee Crane seemed to shudder. “It’s
better not to ask, Chip,” he said with a whisper and turned away to stare into
the embers of the fire.
Chip stood nonplussed for a
moment at his friend’s odd reaction, suddenly seeing Lee through other eyes.
The shiny black material of the cloak gave him a somehow otherworldly
appearance and the deep shadows cast on the sharp planes of his face by the
sullen glow of the fire only added to the effect. It was as if the man he’d
known since their days as roommates at the Naval Academy had suddenly been
replaced by a stranger. He looks like a wizard from a fairy tale, was
Chip’s sudden thought, one with a problem.
Chip blinked, shaking himself
out of his reverie, strangely disturbed by his aberrant impression of his best
friend. Moving to the fireplace himself, he picked up the poker and stirred the
embers while he collected his scattered thoughts. The fire flared briefly, then
died back down. “I need to bring in some wood,” he told his silent friend, “I
could use an extra hand.” Lee simply shrugged, but followed him out of the den
onto the covered porch where a small pile of firewood was stacked. A more
distant flash followed a moment later by the muted rumble of thunder greeted
them. Lee seemed to wrap the thin material of the cloak more tightly around
himself as he stared off into the darkness and rain. Chip sighed again. Lee had
always seemed preoccupied around Halloween, but this was the worst he had ever
seen him. He put the armload of logs back down on the stack and stood with his
arms crossed, giving Lee one of his patient ‘tell me now or tell me later, but
you will tell me’ looks.
The stare seemed to burrow
into Lee’s back and make his skin twitch. After a moment the captain hunched
his shoulders and muttered just loudly enough for Chip to hear, “I don’t want
to talk about it.”
Chip continued to stand
patiently, arms crossed, looking at his friend.
Lee wrapped himself even
tighter in the cloak. “Chip, you don’t want to know.”
“Why?” Chip lifted an eyebrow
at the desperation in Lee‘s voice.
“Because.. Because if you
know what happened you become a part of it.”
“I’m part of it anyway,” Chip
replied. “I’m your best friend. Your XO. Anything that affects you affects me.”
He said the last lightly, but Lee whirled at the words, face ashen.
“No.” The single word came
out almost like a plea.
“Then tell me why.” Chip took
Lee by the shoulders and stared deep into the hazel eyes. Something was very
wrong in Lee Crane’s world and he was determined to find out what it was.
“The Horseman is real, Chip.
I… I met him once. A long time ago.” The words were a mere whisper.
Stunned, Chip let go of Lee’s
shoulders and stepped back, not quite sure if he was actually telling him the
truth. The look of pain on his friend’s face, however, quickly convinced him
that whatever had happened, Lee did indeed believe he’d encountered the
Headless Horseman - and that the experience still haunted him for some reason.
“Well,” Chip told him, trying
to lighten his friend‘s gloom, “You do still have your head, don’t you?”
Lee groaned and closed his
eyes. “The tale that was written wasn’t entirely accurate, Chip. And there’s
more than just the Horseman there in Sleepy Hollow.”
Chip frowned, trying to
recall the original Washington Irving story. “Incorrect in what way, Lee?”
“It doesn’t even mention the
Grey Woman.” Lee turned and walked to the end of the porch; Chip had the
feeling if it hadn’t been pouring rain, he’d have just kept going into the
darkness. He followed and again placed a hand on Lee’s shoulder.
“You may as well tell me,
Lee. When and how.”
Lee turned and looked at him,
shaking his head, but Chip refused to relinquish his grip. Finally sighing in
defeat, Lee gave a slight nod. Chip released him and steered him to one of the
rickety old chairs that inhabited the porch.
“Okay now, what happened?”
Lee looked down at the floor
for a long moment, then with another deep sigh, began. “You know that I told
you my family originally wasn’t real thrilled when I chose a career in the Navy
over going into the family business?” Chip merely nodded; this was old news. “Well,
I never told you just how bad it was - or what happened to make my Grandfather
and Father change their minds and support me.”
Chip sat up in his chair. “Your
Grandfather? He was part of what happened?” At Lee’s nod he gave a low whistle.
He’d met Lee’s Grandfather; anything that could induce that stiff-necked old
man to change his mind had to be formidable indeed.
“I was still in high school,
the fall term of my senior year….
*************
Lee stood in front of his
grandfather, fists clinched, face dark with anger as he glared down at the
ground, refusing to look at the man. The old man had decreed his fate, to
follow in his father’s footsteps in the family business. No discussion of what he wanted, unwilling to even entertain the idea
that he might not be suited to the role in life they had allotted him. The
threat had been to disinherit him entirely - and pull strings to deny him entry
into the Naval Academy - if he tried to defy them. But right now, one Lee B.
Crane was just about mad enough to force them to do their worst. He lifted his
eyes and met his grandfather’s glare, his own look stone cold.
“So be it.” He turned and
walked away, headed for his car. As he reached into his pocket for the keys,
the thought occurred to him that the vehicle had been a gift from his
grandfather. He wouldn’t take it - he’d walk first. Changing course slightly,
he headed for the trunk rather than the driver’s door. Opening it, he retrieved
the bag that held a few of his clothes and other personal belongings. Slamming
the trunk lid shut while his family watched in silence from the porch of his
grandfather’s weekend retreat, he lifted the keys high for a moment so that
they gleamed in the late afternoon sun.
With a flick of the wrist
he tossed them away. From somewhere behind he heard a soft sob that he
identified as his mother. For a brief moment his heart quailed, but then he
steeled himself and straightened his spine. Back ramrod straight, he headed
down the driveway for the road.
No one followed. Each step
hardened his resolve. He would succeed in spite of them, even if it killed him.
He reached the road that
ran in front of the house and without so much as a flicker of hesitation turned
south, towards New York City. The village of Sleepy Hollow was only four miles
or so down the road and Tarry Town perhaps two more beyond that. He was certain
that in one of them he could catch a bus.
If they didn’t send the
police after him. He scowled. This was the end of October - he wouldn’t be
eighteen until spring. Legally they could have him picked up as a runaway. He
gave a slight shake of his head as he mulled it over. No, his grandfather would
let him die in a roadside ditch before he’d admit to being wrong, especially in
public. It wasn’t like he was the only grandson - just the oldest.
As the house vanished from
sight, Lee slowed his pace, trying to recall the times he’d seen the Greyhound
bus traveling this road. Mornings mostly. Maybe late afternoon, but going north,
not south. Try as he might, he couldn’t ever recall seeing one after dark. “Great,”
he groaned to himself as he eyed the rapidly sinking sun on his right. “I’m
gonna have to find somewhere to spend the night.” Preferably someplace where
even if the old man did send someone after him, they’d be unlikely to find him.
By the time he’d covered
most of the distance to Sleepy Hollow, the sun had settled to only a sullen red
sliver on the horizon. He shivered, not because he was cold, but because it had
suddenly dawned on him that tonight was Halloween. While his Father and
Grandfather scoffed at the local legends concerning the little valley he was
descending into, other people he knew - and more importantly, respected - weren’t
so quick to dismiss the tales. And he was thinking about spending the night in
the open here? He needed to find a barn or a shed, somewhere out of the open.
The last of the sun
slipped below the rim of the hills and an eerie twilight began to settle on the
valley. Lee stepped up his pace; it was only a half mile into the village
proper….
He became aware of a
hollow cadence that seemed to echo his own footsteps. Coming to an abrupt halt,
he listened. The sound stopped, but after
he already had. Breath quickening, he turned slowly around to look at the
road behind him.
There was nothing there.
Or was there?
In the mist that had
suddenly flowed up onto the road, something was taking shape. At first it was
only a nebulous outline, vaguely defined. More mist poured in and the shape
began to rapidly solidify and darken. Between one breath and the next it took
form, a huge black horse upon which sat a black cloaked rider - a rider who
held his severed head in front of him on the pommel of his saddle.
The head grinned at him.
Lee felt his knees quiver as he slowly stepped back. Part of him wanted to
scream in panic and run for his life, but the other part knew such a course
would not only be futile - it would likely get him killed. There was no way he
could outrun a normal horse; this one wasn’t even within shouting distance of
normal. Sucking in a deep breath to calm himself, he cast his eyes rapidly
about, trying to figure what would be the best way to out-maneuver the creature
when a gravelly female voice from behind froze him in his tracks.
“Leave the boy be,
Hessian. His fate is not yers to decide. We need him.”
The head scowled, though
it said nothing. Lee dared a look over his shoulder. The speaker was another
cloaked figure, thankfully afoot, in grey this time. She held a silvery-grey
looking wooden staff with a pale grey spherical stone enclosed by what appeared
to be roots at the top end. Even her skin looked grey. He looked into her eyes
and found that they were grey as well. She didn’t look nearly as scary as the
Horseman - but Lee could feel the Power emanating from her like heat from a
furnace. Of the two, he decided, the Horseman was definitely a lower order
threat.
The woman smiled wryly at
him, as if she’d read his mind. “Be at peace, lad. I mean ye no harm. And he,”
she pointed at the Horseman with her chin, “will not touch ye either. My word
upon it.” The head on the saddle took on an aggrieved expression, but the horse
snorted and backed away, giving Lee more space.
He wrinkled his forehead uncertainly.
The Horseman’s behavior certainly confirmed his suspicion that the woman was
the more powerful of the two, but try as he might he could not recall anything
in the local legends about a Grey Woman. “Who are you?” he found himself
asking.
She shrugged. “The
question may more properly be what than who, youngling. I be what yer folk
would call an elemental, born of the molten stone itself when the world was
still young. As fer my name - ye couldn’t pronounce it, even if I told it to
ye. Most folk here bouts simply call me the Grey Woman. Ye can call me Stone if
ye like. Tis about as much of my name as translates into anything meaningful.”
“I’ve never heard of you,”
he told her, a dubious tone in his voice.
She laughed, or least he
thought it was a laugh. It sounded like huge stones grinding together. “I be
not surprised. Tis not often I come out and show meself.”
“Then why are you here
now? Why did you stop the Horseman from coming after me?”
The Grey Woman sobered and
looked troubled. “Aye, legitimate questions. Shows ye have a good head on ye
shoulders.” She sniffed. “Too good for the likes of him.” The head put on a
thunderous scowl; she gave him back a dark look that made the black horse dance
nervously under his rider before she turned her attention back to Lee.
“The truth is, me lad,
that ye are a Focal Point. The course ye decide on tonight can save or destroy
the world.”
Lee’s mouth fell open. “I’m
what?” he stammered.
“A Focal Point. With the
potential to be a Hero.” Lee swallowed hard. He could almost hear the capital
letters in the words - and that scared him worse than the Horseman had. “Whether
or not ye be a tragic Hero or not….” She shrugged. “That none of the Seers can
see. Folk like yerself make history - if they choose that path. No one
can ever truly foresee the future for a Hero, except in bits and pieces. They
were able to see that ye would be here in this place at this time, but beyond
tonight there are three paths. Which one ye walk is up to yeself.”
“What paths?” Lee wasn’t
sure he wanted to know.
“The one yer Grandfather
wished ye to walk is still open. But - and I tell ye true - that one will
destroy yer soul - and the world.” The part about destroying his soul Lee had
already figured out - that was why he was out here on this road in the first
place. The part about it destroying the world was something of a shock.
“The others?” he asked
with a bit of a tremor in his voice.
“If ye go on now, and
catch the bus, ye will retain yer soul, but never fulfill yer role as Hero. The
world will still perish.”
He winced, feeling the
pain of guilt, but slowly nodded. “And the third path?”
“Ye need to finish school
and get into the Naval Academy. Only there lies the path that will give ye the
tools to save the world. And possibly yerself.”
It was the thing he wanted
most in the world - and it was impossible. He shook his head. “My Grandfather…”
“Needs his ass kicked,”
finished the Grey Woman dryly. “Pig-headed old goat.” Lee didn’t know whether
to be insulted or laugh, since those had been his own thoughts on more than one
occasion. “But that be where I come in - enough is at stake that I be willing
to take him on meself.”
“You’ll go to the house
and talk to him?” asked Lee in surprise.
She shook her head. “I
need not. He comes here now.” Lee followed the pointing of her staff and saw
the lights of a car top the hill he’d just walked down.
“He came after me?” Lee
was stunned; he’d really thought the old man wouldn’t bother.
“Ye defied him, lad. Took
him a while to get mad about it, but mad he be. But tis time he learned just
what the true cost of his stiff necked pride be.” With those words the Grey
Woman gently shooed him off the pavement onto the gravel verge between road and
ditch. The Horseman faded into the mist, while the old woman seemed to turn
into a large contorted looking stone setting beside the ditch. He blinked - and
she wavered briefly back into focus. “Fear not, I will nay abandon ye,” she
said to him, before shimmering back into seeming stone.
Lee took a deep breath to
settle his nerves. Even with the promise of - allies - facing his Grandfather
wasn’t going to be easy. He realized now, too, that when the Grey Woman had
said his first option was still open, that she already knew his Grandfather was
on the way. He gave himself a wry smile; he should have known that once the old
man thought it over, that having his oldest grandson simply vanish would cause
questions and gossip the old man wouldn’t want to have to deal with.
Headlights suddenly cut
through the mist, illuminating Lee standing at the side of the road, right hand
in his pocket, the bag slung over his left shoulder. The black Lincoln
screeched to a halt; the driver’s door opened to reveal his father, while the
passenger door opened to reveal his Grandfather. Lee’s eyebrows rose in
surprise. They’d left his Grandfather’s chauffeur behind? He swallowed,
guessing that whatever was about to happen, they didn’t want any witnesses. The
two men started towards him.
The Horseman rode out of
the mist and stopped in the center of the highway, clearly illuminated by the
headlights of the car. There was no mistaking him for anything other than what
he was - his mount’s eyes gleamed fiery red in the light and it could now be
seen that his upper torso was red with blood. The eerie part though, was that
neither he nor his horse threw any shadow behind them. The hair on the back of
Lee’s neck stood on end.
Both his father and
Grandfather came to an abrupt halt and stared at the apparition before them,
momentarily stunned. The elder Crane recovered first and stepped forward to
angrily confront the rider, apparently convinced it was somehow just a trick.
As he reached for the Horseman’s arm, his fingers simply passed through,
closing only on air as the head grinned evilly at him. His eyes went wide with
shock as he hastily scrambled back, shaking his now frost covered hand
frantically.
“Real enough for ye?”
queried the gravelly voice of the Grey Woman as she shifted out of her stone
form.
Lee’s Grandfather stared
at her for a wordless moment with an expression of horror. When he finally did
find his voice his first words were, “I don’t know who you are or what trickery
this is, but I want my grandson back!”
The Grey Woman snorted and
shook her head. “No trickery, Leonardo Crane. And yer grandson tis not ours to
give.”
“What do you mean?” he
demanded. “None of this can be real.” He shot a glance at Lee. “Boy, you’d
better come away from here with me now.” The normal imperious tone was starting
to crack just a bit. Lee just shook his head and stayed where he was.
Again came that laugh like
grinding boulders. “Think ye it be not real, Leo? Nice bit ‘o frostbite in yer
fingers there.”
Lee watched in fascination
as his Grandfather licked his lips uncertainly as he unconsciously worked his
fingers. “I don’t know how you did it …”
“Oh, grow up,” she snapped
at him. “Yer greed and stiff necked pride are about to have a hand in the
destruction of both yer grandson and the world and ye are blind to it.”
The old man flinched, but
drew himself up and snarled back, “Destruction! Absolutely not. I loan people
money to create the engines of commerce. I create jobs and ….”
“And suck their souls dry
in the process,” she responded dryly. “There is more to life than money, Leo
Crane. Ye grandson has a different path to walk, otherwise, this world will be
destroyed. Literally. Reduced to lifeless ash and rubble. Of what value then
will yer money be, of what use the mansion in Providence, the penthouse in New
York, the yacht? Ye will be dead, Leo Crane, and all of ye family and retainers
with ye.”
His Grandfather’s mouth
fell open and his face turned white. “Why should I believe you?” he stammered.
The Grey Woman turned her
head to Lee and lifted an eyebrow. “I see now, lad, where ye get the
stubbornness ye’ll need for the course ahead.” She turned back to his
Grandfather and beckoned him forward. In spite of himself, the old man
grudgingly walked up to her. She placed a hand on his shoulder and told him, “Ye
and I will take a bit ’o a walk and I’ll show ye why.” The mist seemed to swirl
thickly around them for an instant obscuring them from view; when it thinned
again they were gone.
Lee’s father started
forward and found his path blocked by the Horseman. “Lee,” he called hoarsely, “are
you okay, son?”
“Yeah, Dad, “he answered, “At
least as much as can be expected after what they’ve revealed to me.” He
addressed the Horseman, “Why don’t you let him come over here? He’s not gonna
leave without Grandfather. And he needs to be on my side for this.”
The head regarded him
thoughtfully for a moment, then the black horse and its rider faded again into
the mist.
Lee’s father hurried to
his son’s side. “Lee, what the hell is going on?”
“How do I start, Dad?” He
sighed and shook his head. “They tell me I have three possible paths to choose
from tonight. One destroys both my soul and the world. The second, I can save
my soul, but not the world. The third, I may be able to do both.”
His father hung his head
for a moment, eyes closed. When he looked again at Lee, he said softly, “The
first path was you being forced into a life you didn’t want, wasn’t it?”
Lee gave his father a grim
smile in response. “I’m afraid so, Dad. The second was making it onto a bus and
making my own way in the world.”
“The third?” The
expression on his father’s face told him he already knew the answer.
“The Naval Academy, Dad.
The Grey Woman says it will give me the tools to save the world - and possibly
myself.”
“And you believe her?”
Lee shrugged. “The
Horseman had me dead to rights, Dad. There wasn’t any other reason for her to
stop him. She told me I was destined to be a Hero, to make history, not sit by
and watch it be made.”
“It sounds dangerous.”
“It is, Langley.” The
words came from Lee’s Grandfather. He walked out of the mist, alone, looking
far older than when he’d walked into it a few moments earlier. He looked at Lee
with a somber expression.
“What did she say to you,
Father?” asked Lee’s father of his own.
“I… I can’t tell you son.
Or you either, Lee. Except, she did tell me that if your brother in blood stood
beside you, that whatever came you would survive.”
“I don’t have a brother,”
said Lee, looking puzzled. He turned to his father. “Do I?”
His father shook his head,
apparently as baffled as his son. “No, not that I’m aware of.”
His Grandfather stared off
into the mist. “Perhaps…” He waved a hand as if to negate the thought. “Never
mind. I guess this means I’ll have to start working my contacts to get you an
appointment to the Academy.”
“You’ll let me go?” asked
Lee, eyes shining with hope.
“The price if I don’t,”
said his Grandfather, “is more than I want to pay - or carry on my conscience.”
******************
Chip stared at Lee for a
moment after he’d finished, at a loss for words. Lee seemed to take his silence
for disbelief, because the hazel eyes clouded with sadness.
“I guess it is too much to
believe,” he said, dropping his gaze.
“No. No. It’s not that, Lee,”
protested Chip. “It’s just…what can I say? Everything that I can think of to
say just sounds so trite.” Lee looked closely at him; Chip could tell that he
wanted more than anything to believe his words. “That’s an awfully heavy burden
to bear.” He shook his head as he thought further about it. “You were what, all
of seventeen when they laid this on you? God, no wonder you were so serious at
the Academy.”
Lee’s face lighted with
relief. “I just never could tell anybody; they’d have thought I was crazy.”
“Well,” commented Chip, “it
does sound crazy, I’ll admit - but it sure as hell explains some of the
insanity we’ve encountered on the Seaview!”
“I hadn’t thought of it that
way,” admitted Lee. “I just wish I could find my brother. Sometimes it gets
pretty lonely standing alone.”
Chip felt an odd prickling at
the back of his neck at Lee‘s statement. He looked out into the rain for a
moment before answering his friend. “Actually, Lee, I think you have.”
“What?” Lee looked at him, a
puzzled frown on his face.
“Do you remember the time
your Grandfather showed up in Annapolis to see you and you first introduced me
to him?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Remember that you had to
leave before he did so I escorted him out?”
Lee looked at him oddly; then
realization began to dawn. “What did he say to you?”
“He asked me if I had any
brothers. I told him I had a couple of younger ones. He said that meant I knew
how to look out for brothers.” Chip paused. “He told me to be there for you
when the time came.”
“But,” Lee protested, “We’re
not related.”
“Didn’t you say he said
brother in blood?”
Lee thought for a moment
before slowly nodding. “I still don’t see how that makes a difference.”
“Don’t know much about
American Indians do you? Or firefighters.” Chip smiled wry at him.
“What does that have to do
with this?”
“There’s a ceremony, a mixing
of blood, where two friends swear an oath to each other. It’s supposed to be
even closer than natural born brothers. Blood brothers.”
“Blood brothers…” Lee looked
at him, dismayed, as understanding came to him.
Chip pulled his pocket knife
out of his jeans and flicked open the blade. He made a cut across the palm of
his left hand, drawing blood, then solemnly offered the knife to Lee.
“Chip,” he protested, “You
can’t. Do you realize what you’d be doing?”
“Actually I do,” responded
Chip calmly. “I intend to be there anyway, whether you like it or not. This
just lets all the Powers That Be know I have the Right to be there.”
Lee finally took the knife
from him, but hesitated. Trying to dissuade his friend, he said, “It could get
us both killed.”
“And what happens on Seaview
nearly every day won’t? Lee, my father is a firefighter. Do you understand what
that means? Every time he leaves for work could be the last time we see him.
Literally. His father was a fireman before him. Both of my younger brothers are
firemen. So are at least half my uncles. I grew up knowing that somebody has to
do it for the common good - but that men die doing it.”
“So why didn’t you follow
them?”
Chip gave him another wry
smile. “I’m not sure I knew why myself at the time. My dad didn’t
understand why I wanted to go to Annapolis - I just knew I had the need to. It
was my Granny Morton who told him - and I remember this - ‘Not all fires that
have to be put out are of flame. Not all dragons can be seen.’ He looked at her
for a long time and then he told me to go with his blessing. He never said
another word about it.” He gave a shrug. “I do know the first time you came
home with me Granny Morton looked you over and told my dad you’d do. That’s why
they’ve treated you like family ever since.”
Lee looked down at the knife
in his hand. Then as solemnly as Chip had, he drew the blade across his own
palm. Chip reached out his hand and Lee firmly grasped it.
“Brothers,” said Chip, “To
stand together no matter what may come.”
“Brothers,” repeated Lee, “Forever
and always, through thick and thin.”
A pale glow seemed to emanate
for a brief instant from their clasped hands, startling both of them, but it
left behind a feeling of rightness.
“Well,” commented Chip after
he’d gotten over his surprise, “That was interesting.” After folding up his
knife and pocketing it, he peered as closely at his hand as he could given the
dim light on the porch. The cut he’d just made showed up as a pale crescent
shaped scar across his palm. He showed it to Lee, who showed him an identical
mark. “We’re gonna have a tough time explaining this to Jamie.”
“Jamie’s not gonna be near as
tough as the Admiral,” muttered Lee. “You think we can talk Jamie into keeping
quiet about it?”
“Maybe,” answered Chip
thoughtfully. “If we bribe him with something he really wants for Sick Bay, he
might just forget to mention it to the Admiral. Though we may have to tell him
part of the story.”
Lee grimaced and sighed. “Whatever
it takes, Chip. This isn’t something I want the Admiral poking into. He’d be
apt to take off to Sleepy Hollow and try to find the Horseman!”
Chip answered with a shudder.
“There are times his curiosity does override all his common sense,” he
admitted. “We’ll keep it from Jamie as long as we can. If we go long enough
maybe the scars will fade.” Even as he said it though, he knew they wouldn’t.
He knew from the look that Lee gave him that he knew it too. “Well, it was just
a thought.”
A head poked out the door:
Chip’s father. “What are you two out here doing?”
“Uh, well, we came out to get
some more firewood and got sidetracked talking,” Chip told him. “We’ll be in in
just a minute”
“Okay, but you’d better hurry
or there won’t be any cookies left.”
The two men looked at each
other and smiled wryly. Their conversation would keep; the cookies wouldn’t.
Quickly gathering an armload of wood each, they headed back into the house to
rejoin the Halloween festivities.
As they stepped back inside,
something stirred in the darkness beyond the porch, unseen by either man. A
gravelly voice seemed to whisper in the wind, “Bout damned time ye two
figured it out. Bout time indeed.”
END