The Island of I Ch. 02

Father paused and then violently shook his head. "No time, Carmen. There is no time! My work must continue...I must finish it so. I must be prepared." He turned and even as my mother called out to him, imploring him to stay awhile, he marched out the door, his footsteps heard a moment later, bounding up the stairs.

As Antonia returned with my breakfast, Mother sighed heavily, her eyes tearing up as she again stared down unhappily into her lap. Hector disappeared back into the kitchen and Mother and I finished our breakfast in an uncomfortable silence. As I was finishing up, Mother excused herself and headed towards the stairs. Antonia, gathering up Mother's plate, gave me a knowing stare and turned her eyes towards Mother's exiting figure before nodding at me.

I understood her expression and leapt up from my seat and hurried after my mother. I caught up to her at the bottom of the staircase. "Mother, are you feeling better?"

Mother's body shivered slightly at the sound of my voice and she turned, her face reddening again as she looked down at me from the stairs. Maybe it was my imagination or my own desires, but it seemed as if Mother's nipples seemed to harden under her robe, becoming noticeable. In an uncertain voice, she replied, "I'm...I'm feeling better, I think. My sleep has been...strange, but I am feeling more rested this morning." A faint smile played across her lips and she added, "I feel a little more relaxed."

I grinned back and said, "I am so glad, Mother. I have missed you so much. Perhaps you would care to take a stroll this evening. The fresh air might do you good."

Mother's face turned redder and her hands fluttered around her throat, fingering the collar of her modest robe. "I...I'm not sure, son. We...um, I, well, let's see how I feel this afternoon."

She made to move on up the stairs, but I closed in, moving to the step below her and placing my hand on hers on the polished wood rail. "I hope you do feel up to it, Mother. I've...I've missed our times together." I tightened my hand around hers...wanting to say so much, but unable to put it into words that seemed adequate. "I've missed you, Mother."

Mother looked down at her feet, unable to bring her eyes to face my earnest expression. "I missed spending time with you too, John," she said softly, finally bringing her brilliant blue eyes to my face. She reached out and stroked a finger down my cheek and whispered, "Maybe, son. Maybe." Then, pulling from my hand's grip, Mother hurried up the stairs as I watched, aching to take her lithe form in my arms.

The day passed slowly as Hector and I labored hard and silently to clear away the brush according to Father's instructions. It proved more difficult than usual as the plant growth was denser and thornier as we tried to find the supposed structure it hid. Early on, I had sensed in Hector a desire to discuss the previous night's events, but there was a storm on my brow that perhaps influenced his decision to not bring it up. After a mute lunch, we were both angry and frustrated with our slow amount of progress, our ire enhanced in late afternoon as the sun began to set and Father showed up to inspect our progress or as he perceived it, a lack thereof.

With a walking stick, Father poked and prodded at the brush, muttering over and over, "You must be close, lads. Just a little more effort!"

"Sir, tomorrow...I think tomorrow, we will have it," panted Hector, his olive complexion shiny with the sweat of hard labor.

"Damn it all!" growled Father. "I've waited so long. It must be here. It's all so plain to me. I must have it!" He paced about in frustration, still peering into the dense foliation and I expected him to insist we continue working, but Antonia appeared on the porch and cried out. "Enough, come clean up and eat!" My father frowned her way, but I sensed that he was not willing to challenge her on this.

Hector and I happily abandoned our labors, going to the beach for a quick and refreshing dip before returning to the house, anxious to dine with our respective mothers. I was delighted to see Mother sitting at the dinner table, dressed in a long, sky blue dress with an entrancing and plunging V- neckline that tied behind her neck, drawing attention to her breasts which appeared to be unfettered by a bra, and her bare shoulders. Her golden hair was again, pinned up in several complicated tresses, a jeweled comb holding the contrivance together.

My delight at Mother's lovely appearance was diluted as Father had joined us again, complete with Maps and two well used journals. At his insistence, Antonia and Hector joined us as he wanted to emphasize and re-emphasize the importance of uncovering his precious altar. With some reluctance, the housekeeper and her son brought in their food and joined us at the table where Father dominated the conversation.

"I imagine just a few more days will change everything" he gushed. "Once we have the very altar that Isprey used for his "Summoning," all the pieces will be in place. I can prove he was actually here and that he did indeed attempt to call the "Old Ones."

Mother tried to join his conversation by saying, "I'm sure you've told me before, Thomas, but what exactly are these "Old Ones?"

Antonia muttered under her breath as Father sighed and replied, "No one knows for sure. Gods, maybe, perhaps they are beings from outside our universe. Isprey and others write of their immense power...magic perhaps, but possessing power that if conveyed to mortals would allow them rule empires and know wealth beyond imagination. Isprey speculated that such power could convey immortality."

Mother smiled slightly and said, "And he attempted his "summoning? Was he successful?"

Father frowned. "No...there are conflicting accounts of what happened. He...um, apparently died. The manuscript indicates that he was..." Father's voice took on a dream-like quality, "The Anglander was taken by the daemon and in inhumane fury were torn to pieces and consumed by an unholy fire. The daemon's shrieks ripped his soul apart and likewise consumed it in great fury."

"My God," murmured Mother. "And you wish to recreate this "Summoning?" She looked appalled.

Father laughed and said, "My research indicates that he lacked vital information on the ceremony...information that I have obtained at great expense." He glanced at Antonia who was tracing something in the air as if warding off a hex. He blushed and frowned before shrugging his shoulders and saying, "I simply want to prove that Isprey indeed was here and attempted the "Summoning," that's all."

"You dabble in things dark and terrible, Mister Halloran," murmured Antonia in a low and serious voice. "Knowledge unwisely gained and unwisely used is dangerous."

"Mind your place, Antonia and remember. This was Vincizio's desire as well."

Mother gasped at the harsh tone in Father's voice, but Antonia did not seem fazed as she replied, "And now Vincizio is dead...destroyed by his own quests for things best left hidden in the darkness of ignorance."

Father stood up and gathered his books and materials in his arms. "This is not a debate, Antonia. Leave it be or be prepared to leave the next time Captain Waltern visits."

Hector began to stand, but halted at a simple hand gesture from his mother. Still, his eyes burned with anger at the superior and arrogant tone in Father's voice. Antonia smiled coldly and replied, "No...that will not be necessary, Mister Halloran. I will stay and serve as best I can."

Father muttered, "Fine...excuse me, I have much to do." He stalked to the door, pausing to look back and glare at Hector and myself. "Get cracking early tomorrow. I want that altar found!" he snapped before disappearing, his footsteps on the stairs echoing strangely as he went upstairs.

There was a long silence in the room as Mother and I exchanged concerned glances and then she looked to Antonia and said, "I apologize for Thomas' words. I fear he sometimes loses himself in his work. He so badly wishes to vindicate himself in the eyes of his critics who have laughed at his theories for so long."

Antonia came around the table and placed a hand on Mother's bare shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze and saying, "There is no need to apologize. I understand his...desires and the pain his work has brought you. You and I have traveled the same path with our husband's shared quests for...knowledge." She caressed Mother's shoulder again, arousing in me an unexpected emotion of lewd desire that made my penis throb.

Mother smiled up at Antonia and whispered, "Thank you." She dropped her linen napkin on the table and pushed back from the chair to stand up -- Hector and I rising quickly as was only good form. "Please, continue to eat, boys. I fear...I've lost my appetite. Excuse me."

"Mother, I..." My voice went silent as Antonia fixed me with her dark eyes and slightly shook her head. My mother glanced back at me once, trying to smile and I could see the tears pooling in her eyes and I ached to go to her and hold her in my arms.

When she left, Antonia came over to me and gently stroked my cheek. "Give her a little bit, John. She needs a brief moment to compose herself...your father has embarrassed her...maybe frightened her a little. Go up after you finish eating. She will be more ready to have you with her then."

I nodded and returned to my food, picking at it as I found I'd lost my appetite as well." Hector finished up and nodded at me, offering me courage in his smile and told his mother he would begin the cleanup in the kitchen so they might turn in early. Antonia nodded and lingered close by after he left. Finally, she slipped into the chair next to me and placing her hand on my leg, said softly, "John, you have questions, I think. Ask them."

I shook my head for a moment as all my thoughts tried to be first. There was so much I wanted to know about her and Hector and their incestuous life together. But for all my curiosity about them and about what might happen to Mother and me, I found myself chiefly concerned with Father.

"Is Father going mad?" I was surprised with the concern that was more than evident in my voice.

Antonia shook her head and replied, "No...not mad, I think...although a man who abandons his family to travel a road as dark as his cannot be considered altogether sane."

"What is he pursuing, Antonia?"

She pursed her lips together, her eyebrows knotting as she studied on how to reply. Finally, she answered with, "Knowledge, John. Your father pursues dark knowledge from man's earliest times...knowledge that can bring power and which can open the door for terrible evil."

"What is Father trying to do?"

Antonia reached into a pocket and took out a small object on a beaded chain and kissed it, whispered something under her breath as she then put it away. "There is a power imprisoned here on this island. It is ancient and terrible and it is not from this world. It is from...outside. Your father wishes to master it for his own purposes as this Anglo Saxon, Isprey once attempted. If he attempts it and fails to control this power, it can go terrible for your father."

"And if he succeeds?"

Antonia shivered. "Then he would do what many have tried to do for ten millennia, but that too would be terrible and in the end, it will consume him and the Earth might endure devastation worse than any in memory."

That sounded alarming. "What do you mean by devastation?"

She sighed and looked away towards a window that looked out upon the terrible Atlantic. "Hector told you that he and I are of the Jahndi...a homeless people?"

I nodded and she sighed again. "Long ago, the Jahndi lived in a lush and fertile land, but a prince of our homeland lusted for power and attempted to harness Outsiders and their strength. Our high priests gave battle to these evil things and banished most of them from our universe, but the price...the devastation sent our homeland sinking into the sea...a proper burial for a land that reeked of death and evil.

"My father wants...that?"

There must have been a great deal of anguish in my voice because Antonia returned her gaze to my face and stroked my cheek again. "Do not be afraid, John. It will not happen. Love will protect you." She leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. "Remember and hold your love for your mother in your heart. Keep faith in her and yourself and no harm can come to you."

"How?" I whispered.

"Just love your mother...keep her close in terrible times and never, ever let her go. Your love for each other will sustain you through the worst of times."

I confess that confusion, mixed with fear, filled my heart and my mind and I felt no clearer about things than when I had first begun asking her questions. Part of me wanted to believe that Antonia was as mad as I feared my father was, but part of me worried that maybe part of me was being seduced into a greater madness of impure lust as my desires for Mother increased and I found myself more and more aroused by the illicit love that Antonia and her son shared.

Antonia studied my face and nodded. "So much to learn about in so short a time, eh? Enough for now -- go to your mother, John. She needs you now. She needs to know how much you love her." She stood up and ran her hands through my hair. She leaned down and kissed the top of my head and then turned and walked away into the kitchen, not looking back.

I sat for a moment, struggling to comprehend what was the right thing to do, but abandon all pretense as I hurried upstairs, eager to find my mother. I found Mother in our sitting room, still wearing her blue dress with a book unopened resting in her lap. She turned at the sound of my footsteps. There was a pained expression of something nearly undefined in her face, although I was hoping it was longing for me. "John," she sighed and held out her hand.

I was across the room and kneeling at her feet before she could blink, taking her hand in mine and gently bringing it to my lips for a soft kiss. "Mother," I began. "I am so glad to see you feeling better." I could not help but let my gaze wander from her brilliant blue eyes to roam appreciatively over her lush body encased in the clingy, light blue dress. Her full breasts were great round orbs straining against the fabric of her dress -- her nipples fully visible against the thin material of the dress. Her bare shoulders looked so delectable, my mouth almost watered at the thought of kissing them...of running my tongue teasingly along her flawless, alabaster skin.

Mother started to reply and then hesitated, looking down towards the book in her lap as if she couldn't bear my hungry stare. "I'm sorry if I worried you, John," she said in almost a whisper. "I have been disconcerted...things...my feelings about things have been so confused lately."

I squeezed her hand gently and again kissed it as I voiced my worst fears. "Mother, if I have done anything to offend you...I'm truly sorry and I pro..."

I stopped speaking as Mother pressed two fingers against my lips and shook her head. "Do not speak of such things...not here. But son, you should know that you have no cause to reproach yourself."

Neither of us spoke for a moment and I was torn between elation and fear as I wondered what was on Mother's heart. She matched my longing gaze for a moment and then turned and looked out the great bay window of the room that provided a brilliant view of the ocean. "It is getting dark, but the moon is so lovely."

I followed her gaze and saw the moon, still full and bright hanging over the dark waters of the Atlantic. My mouth was dry in my nervousness as I rasped, "Mother, would you like to take a walk on the beach...if you feel up to it?"

Mother shivered and bit her lip, still looking away from me as she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. I suddenly realized how attractive Mother's slight overbite was. "John...I...I..." She paused and then turned her head sharply and looked into my eyes with something ravenous shining in her eyes. "Yes...I would like to take a walk on the beach with you, son."

To be continued...