― Haruki Murakami
Rainy Night
Later that night, after we saw the Dark Lady on our hike, Kate and I sat talking by the fire. It had been raining all evening and there were occasional flashes of lightning and occasional rumbles of distant thunder.
The power finally went out as we sat sipping hot chocolate in the darkened den with the only light coming from the fire and both of us feeling drowsy.
It crossed my mind to get out the battery powered emergency lanterns, but was too comfortable to bestir myself and disturb Kate and Mollie in the process, so I stayed with my arms around Kate, curled up beside her on the couch.
Within moments I fell fast asleep.
I dreamt of the day we went hiking and both of us were caught in the rainstorm near the cliffs. Her ankle was sprained and she couldn't walk on it and we were desperately seeking shelter.
It was all familiar except for one part where the Dark Lady appeared and deliberately removed branches covering the entrance of the cave so we could spot the opening and take cover.
I felt a sense of compassion from the woman and felt protected by her.
I didn't awaken until the following morning. When I opened my eyes, Kate had already been up and made breakfast,
"Good morning, Sleepy Head," she smiled, "You must have been exhausted. You didn't even stir when I was busy in the kitchen."
"Guess I was dead to the world," I yawned, "but I had a strange dream."
She brought in a tray with coffee and croissants. "Tell me about it, while we eat, I'm starving."
She sat beside me cradling her coffee with both hands while I recounted my dream.
"That's such a remarkable dream," she exclaimed, "and it explains what we both were feeling. The Dark Lady wasn't just protecting her ancestral sites but was also protecting us."
"But why us?" I asked.
"Could it be because of your relationship with Gemma Granger? After all, you had a connection with her from the past and now you've moved into the house her great uncle built to protect the site. Maybe she sees you as the new caretaker of the secret."
"It's possible," I conceded. I had to admit Kate's explanation helped connect many of the dots and made sense.
Later that morning when I was in the Hart House Grill enjoying my second morning coffee, Gemma spotted me and came and sat down.
"You look well-rested this morning," she smiled, "guess the thunderstorms last night made good weather for sleeping."
"It was very relaxing―so relaxing, in fact, I fell asleep on the couch and didn't wake up until morning."
"So, you're settling into the house and finding it really suits you."
"I love the house and wonder how your uncle was able to leave it."
She frowned. "Truth was, my uncle was a very nervous man and didn't feel comfortable being alone in the house."
"I understand he moved to Florida to be with his fiancee."
"That's mainly true, but he kept believing he could feel the presence of his father's wife―she was an Iroquois Indian and well, my uncle Norman had an overly-active imagination."
"So, he thought the house was haunted?"
Gemma nodded. "Sorry, Si―I would have told you but didn't know about it until he mailed me a letter this past week telling me how much better he felt now that he was out of the house."
"Don't feel guilty," I reassured her. "I don't feel anxious or threatened in the house―In fact, I feel very safe and protected."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to know. I must admit my uncle has always been involved in spiritualism and I think he's inclined to view things that go bump in the night as otherworldly in origin."
"Not to worry," I laughed, if there's a household spirit it's certainly not a bedsheet ghost disturbing my peace of mind."
Gemma left reassured, on her way to conduct her morning lecture. I tool a few moments to reflect on what she said and concluded that most of the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.
There was no need to ask the historians about Iroquois sign language. The Dark Lady's intentions were clear.
Kate's explanation resolved everything. The Dark Lady welcomed me as the new owner because she knew I would protect the sacred sites and was more stable than Norman and not frightened or threatened by her presence.
I could accept her as a protectress because Mollie had shown me she was no threat. Besides, I shared her passion to protect the ancestral sites.
Hell, it might even be comforting to know my house is guarded by a household spirit.
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