Aura. Part 1

Aura.

M.A. Abraham.

Dedicated to my sister Cecile... I only have the one.

Acknowledgementsa Without the support and efforts of my friend and editor Charlene, the proofreading talents of Eniko, and the continuing contributions of Becca, this book would never have made it to publication. There are days when I feel as if they are the head of my cheer leading squada they never give up on me, even when I want to give up on myself. To those who continue to follow my literary work, I express my most humble grat.i.tude. Your continuing support and faith in my work is appreciated.

CHAPTER I.

He made his way through the maze of hedges and brambles that led to what remained of a lonely tower near the crest of a hill. A solitary figure, he walked through an opening, which had served as a doorway many hundreds of years before. Two partly decaying and crumbling walls still stood on either side of his path. It had been a long time since he had been up here, and he marveled at how unchanged it seemed, although it did have a neglected air to it that was not previously there.

He stood in silence for a moment as he looked at the ancient rock formation before him then slowly made his way over to it. Being here reminded him strongly of his stepdaughter, Aura, for this had been her special place. A refuge from the world, and it had served her well. She was dead now, these many, many years, and he had come to pay his respects, and to remember the step daughter he had found, then lost. He also came with a message, though he knew she would not hear it, or perhaps not even care about the contents if it was even possible that she could hear. Nor could he have blamed her for she had been right to turn her back on them those many years earlier.

He touched the rocks he had come to see and felt their coa.r.s.e, weather worn texture beneath his fingers, then ran his hands over the top of what might have been anything from an altar to a bed of sorts. It seemed, for some obscure reason, that he could almost sense her presence, and the feeling brought him peace and comfort.

He smiled in reflection, remembering Aura in her excitement as she had led him to the old ruins which now surrounded him. It was, he thought, a memory from happier times, for she had opened his world to the discoveries of the country surrounding him, as only a child could.

She had been a pretty child, despite the fact that she had seemed all legs and arms when he had first met her. Her hair was enveloping her, free and hanging past her waist in a tangle of waves and curls. She was so unlike her mother in appearance and character that he had had a hard time crediting them as being related. It was a difference, he now understood, which had been resented by both mother and daughter alike.

He had met Aura's mother while on a business trip in New York City, and he had been totally won over by the woman's personality and golden beauty. The lady, for she seemed to fit the description perfectly, was absolutely flawless. She could have easily pa.s.sed as the mother of any of his own motherless children, which had been a bonus in his eyes.

They got married, soon after they met and he had brought his new wife and stepdaughter back with him to his home in England, with the firm belief that they would mesh and form a family together. He had to admit, in the beginning he could not have wished for a more amicable relations.h.i.+p.

Things had seemed to turn out better than he had hoped, right from the start. His new wife had just taken one look at the blond blue-eyed angels before her, as they had been introduced, and she had been totally captivated. His son, Gerald, had accepted everything at a base level, after all, he was almost ready to attend Oxford at the time, and he was used to going his own way, leaving the others to their own devices.

His own daughters, he had quickly noted, became pampered, and treated like treasured Barbie dolls by their new stepmother, and they happily basked in their newfound admiration. His wife's own daughter, however, seemed as if she had been pushed from the charmed circle, for she was never with them, nor did she seem to benefit from any of their excursions. So, in her own queer and solitary way, she moved off to be on her own. It was almost as if she was used to being the odd one out, and that the slight had no effect on her.

It did though, and he could see it on her, for in the beginning she still had not learned to hide her hurt so well. Of course, talking to his wife produced no change. As far as she was concerned she was doing no different for her child than she had ever done, nor was she about to do more. Aura was well and taken care of, that was all that mattered. So, feeling sorry for the child, he put a bit of extra effort into her himself, and for the first two summers, for it was only during those particular holidays that he got to see her, he took her about the countryside with him.

He had often wondered why she had not come home for any of the other school breaks, as his own daughters had done. He had not quite believed all the excuses he had been given for her absences. He had not paid the matter much attention at the time, being too busy with what he considered more important matters.

He had later became aware of the truth and had, at the discovery, wondered what that lonely little girl had been sent for presents during the holidays, while his own little girls had been showered with toys, and later, jewels, designer gowns and furs. Aura never seemed to have any of the fripperies that his daughters had. She had nothing to emphasize her sparkle or give her personality life. All she had needed, he felt, was for someone to have shown her that they cared, just a bit, to make her come out of her sh.e.l.l a little. Perhaps, with just a touch of caring, she might have had a reason to stay.

He remembered how he had enjoyed the trips he had taken the girl on in those first two years. She had had a quick intelligence and a soft gentle way about her that reminded him of a warm summer breeze. He had liked the way the sun had brought out the hidden shades of color from her mahogany locks and how her pansy colored eyes would lighten and darken in wonder at different stages of discovery as they had moved about through the ancient and obscure ruins which covered his country.

That she had shared his interest in his excursions he had never doubted, for while she had been cautious in her exhibitions of joy, she had found many subtle ways to let him know that his efforts to include her were appreciated. They had kept their little trips to themselves, as for no particular reason that either of them could explain, as they both seemed to feel that if anyone else got to know about their little jaunts, they would quickly come to an end.

He remembered the incident that had brought their secret journeys into the open. They had found an extra old ruin, nestled in the gentle swell of the hills of the inner North West corner of the country, which, for some unknown reason, seemed to upset the young girl. He had asked what it was which had bothered her at the time, as he had found her in a state of tears in the main hold of the structure, but she had only shook her head and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. Nor did she accept the offered shoulder he had presented as he had sought to comfort her.

The excursion had been followed by several dreams that caused Aura many sleepless nights, the discovery of their trips, and the end to their togetherness. He found out later that her mother had taken her aside to have a serious talk with her about men and the things that could happen to girls who foolishly followed them without supervision. Aura refused to go anywhere with anyone after that. She acted afraid to leave the safety of their home. Any effort on his part to repair the sudden and inexplicable rift between them was met with awkwardness, and strange, frightened and embarra.s.sed glances. She spent her time thereafter with their head cook, an old woman whom his wife would have liked to have fired. He never found out what her mother had said to her, but she seemed to grow up faster than any other eleven year old.

He remembered feeling a touch of jealousy at the closeness that grew between the old cook and the young girl. He often saw them in the herb gardens as she helped clear the rows and harvest the plants. He listened remotely as the learning of a lifetime was pa.s.sed on to yet another generation, and he found a reason to let go of what had been. He resolved, at that time, to keep the woman on his payroll as long as she wished to stay, for she taught the young girl more than they probably would have about the running of a household.

He remembered how the girl, then a fifteen and a half year old woman-child, had hid her pain at the pa.s.sing of the old cook. She had taken her grief to the old ruins in the field near the house. n.o.body thought to follow, to see if she was all right, or to see if she could use a bit of comfort and a shoulder to cry on. Nor did she seem to expect it of them. After that he never saw her in the company of another friend or confidant.

He remembered how he had bought her a python for Christmas that year, and she had been delighted. She had called it Roger. The snake, much to his concern seemed to take the place of the old lady. the girl had dragged him along with her wherever she had gone, even to school. How she had ever managed to charm the Sister at the convent to have allowed its presence in her room he never knew, but she somehow had.

It was not, he reflected, as if she were clumsy, or without social graces that he had doubted her ability of exercising any great amount of charm. It was that she seemed to be on her own so much that it appeared as if she preferred it that way. He remembered catching the slightest wistful look of deep-seated sadness run across her face. That only happened when she thought n.o.body was watching, while she watched her mother interact with his daughters. It was after witnessing these look that he realized she would have had it differently if she could have, and that she silently grieved for her loss.

By the time she was seventeen the pattern of her life appeared already set. She had pulled her long, dark, luxurious hair into a tightly controlled braid, which fell past her middle thigh, a style that made her look slightly severe, yet which failed in her attempt to make herself look plain. In his opinion she should have let it fall loose, as she used to do as a child. She could have had it styled to emphasize her beauty, instead of camouflaging it. Close scrutiny of the young woman had convinced him that she could have been a great beauty with a little effort. He had often wondered why she chose otherwise.

His early impression of her intelligence had proved to be well founded as he remembered her school days, for she never brought home a mark under an "A", which he had complimented her on. She had told n.o.body other than him of her secret ambition as she had been growing up. She had wanted to become a doctor someday. It was a profession that had surprised him, as had her willingness to confide in him in the first place. It had been more than she had done with her mother. He had warned her that her career of choice would take a lot of work, and that it would be hard on her, though he knew she was quite capable of handling and accomplis.h.i.+ng anything she set out to do.

She had, or so her teachers had claimed, a photographic mind, and could ingest any amounts of information without effort. Of course, he had noted, n.o.body had ever told his stepdaughter that her efforts were without pain. She had spent hours pouring over her books, which was an example in study that he had felt his own girls could have copied.

Finely featured and naturally slim, Aura had made her stepsisters appear finicky in their attempts to keep their figures fas.h.i.+onably slim. Nor did she endear herself to them as she indulged herself at meals and had proven herself to be a natural athlete, which neither of his own girls had an apt.i.tude for. Her body had a compact set to it, which the girls envied but refused to work to achieve on their own, not realizing that her form was something that usually went hand in hand with a healthy lifestyle. She seemed unaware of her appearance, making no obvious effort to dress herself up, or to bring attention to her figure as her stepsisters did. She had a natural regal bearing, something he had teased her about in good humor, and she had smiled at his teasing in her calm, serene way, but there all signs of familiarity had stopped. It had, though, been brought it to his attention, that she had a very beautiful smile, which she seldom ever used. It had all been such a waste, he realized with a sad sigh.

Upon this train of thought he had decided that it had been time that somebody took her in hand and forced her to do something for herself. It had proved to be a disastrous undertaking, as memory served to remind him. That, however, was a whole other story.

"Aura," he spoke aloud, as if he could see her, while in truth all he could claim was a feeling that her energy was present. "We buried your mother today. In the end Aura, it was you to whom she reached out to touch. Some little part of her did love you after all. I ask you to guide her spirit. Keep her safe for me until I join the two of you, for I did love her in my own way, just as I loved you, my daughter."

With that he slowly made his way out of the ruins, to return to his own home. It had been the first time he had gone to the site since he had left Aura there, thirty years earlier. It was the last time as he would never return to the area.

CHAPTER II.

At six thirty in the morning Aura was already up preparing for the day ahead of her. She showered, dressed, and, as Roger still lay coiled in her closet, she picked up her packsack and headed down the stairs to the front door. It was her intention to leave early, that way she could avoid everyone as she made her way out of the building. She was not quite successful in her desire to remain unnoticed.

Her stepfather, having forgotten his car keys on the entrance table, almost collided with her head on as she opened the front door to leave the house. He looked at her in surprise for a few moments; noticing the backpack and her manner of dress, then spoke.

"Going somewhere Aura?"

"Hiking," she bent the truth a little, not really wanting to let anyone know where she was headed. She had made sure that no one, outside of the kitchen staff, who would never have thought to tell on her, knew that she had packed enough food supplies for at least a fortnight. She did not want anyone finding out.

Her stepfather, however, was not to be misled so easy. He had noticed how her cheeks had colored slightly, and knew she was lying. She was, in his experience, the worst liar he had ever met and his daughters could have given her any number of lessons on how to deliver her lines in a truly believable fas.h.i.+on. He watched her as she squirmed before him, looking ready to bolt, and gave a slight crooked smile.

She, like he was doing himself, was probably fleeing the house early, just to get away from her mother's foul mood. Her mother had not quite cooled down from the fight that she had lost with her daughter only the day before. Nor had it helped his position when he had sided with the girl. As far as he was concerned, the medical profession was definitely a good career move for anyone, male or female.

"You are not running away from home by any chance are you?" He teased, hoping the lighthearted banter would cheer her up a touch. She looked as if she could use a friend.

Unfortunately the remark hit too close to the truth for Aura, and the intended effect failed. He sighed inwardly in disappointment then silently admonished himself. He should have known better. Aura, as he had occasion to remember well, had never teased well.

Aura knew her stepfather often tried to smooth her way for her and she was grateful for his efforts, but she was too insecure to believe in his effectiveness. Then again, that was not totally true either. He was one of the main reasons that she had continued to make the efforts, scholastically, that she did. His words of praise and encouragement were the closest thing she could think of that indicated that anyone even cared. Noting his disappointment at her lack of response, she decided to make amends by telling him what she was about to do, making him the only one to know what was on her mind, besides herself.

"Do you remember the old ruins I told you about soon after I first got here?"

"Yes, I remember. They are about a mile or so from here. We spent a few hours up there looking through them. There was not much left of them if memory serves me right."

"It does, but things, I hope, have changed. I believe I have found more of them, so I am going to camp out there for a while to do a bit of amateur excavating."

"You could do that from the house." He reasoned.

"I know, but I want to do it this way, it will make it seem more real. It is not as if I have anything better to do at this moment, and you never know what I might find." A hint of excitement crept into her voice as she spoke and her face lit up in expectation.

"When did this plan of yours start to take form?" He smiled at her, pleased at how she seemed almost transformed by her hopes, yet feeling apprehensive about not having been told anything about it before.

"I decided this yesterday afternoon."

He raised his eyebrows at her and frowned, this was not a move he approved of. She was obviously leaving early so no one would see her go, this, to him, meant one thing. She did not plan to tell anyone anything about her plans, or at least she had not until just a few moments ago. What bothered him the most was that she had almost been successful. If he had not forgotten his keys he would have been gone when she left the house.

"Did you have no intention of telling anyone about your plans Aura?"

Her eyes fell and her cheeks flamed, she clutched at the straps of the backpack in her hands and refused to answer.

"I see," her father replied as he acknowledged the fact that she was not about to give him a voluntary answer. "I believe that means a no, is that right Aura?"

She still refused to answer, shrugging her shoulders and turned an even deeper shade of crimson.

He shook his head at her in disappointment and, after a short period of awkwardness, began again. "I realize that the area is fairly safe Aura, but someone would have been bound to have noticed that you were gone sooner or later and would have worried, did that never occur to you?"

Her gaze rose to meet his at this and in sudden irritation she asked. "So who would have missed me father?" She then swallowed convulsively and, on a calmer note, explained her outburst. "n.o.body would have noticed or have even cared that I was gone. Mother would have even welcomed my absence. Nor am I dramatizing things, this is just the way things are." She ended with a long, deep sigh.

"That is not quite true Aura," he defended his wife. "You mother loves you very much."

She frowned at him. It was no less than what she should have expected. "Think about it father. If you give it any amount of thought at all you will agree with my observations."

That was the problem, he realized, deep inside he did agree with her, for it did seem that her mother did resent her. It was, to his way of thinking, the woman's main flaw, because, other than the way she treated her own child, she had been a perfect wife and mother to him and his children. He decided they would be better off, at this point of the discussion, if they talked about some other, more neutral, subject.

"As I remember Aura, those ruins are quite a way from here. Would you like a hand setting up? I have a little extra time this morning. I will give you a ride over there, and I could spend a some time with you. If it is all right with you, that is."

She smiled as she nodded her consent. "I had thought to make two or even three trips to take everything I wanted. This way I will be able to do it all at the same time. Thank you father." The relief in her voice was shown plainly on the expression on her face.

"Three trips Aura?" He asked inquisitively.

"Well, I did mean to make sure that I was fairly comfortable as well as provided for."

"That sounds more like Monica, not you Aura. How long did you plan on being gone anyway?" He hated to sound suspicious, but he couldn't help himself. He was!

She just shrugged a shoulder as she answered noncommittally. "Two, three weeks or so."

"Somehow Aura, I think someone would have noticed that you were missing in that amount of time. As it is, I am glad to know about it. I will spend some time with you now, helping you set up your camp, then I will check up on you from time to time as you work. It is the least I can do."

"Why?"

The question was asked innocently enough. Aura just took it for granted that she would be on her own. No one had ever taken the time to check on her before, why should they now?

To make things simple, her stepfather replied: "Because I like my tea, and n.o.body makes it better than you do. There is a price to my vigilance, you know." He did not want to tell her it was because he cared and felt it was past time someone showed her that she did matter.

Aura took the joke in the mien it was intended and teased back. "Perhaps it will do some good for me to be gone, even if it is to be missed for my talent at making you your favorite beverage."

"It would help your mother to miss you a bit as well."

"Father, mother has plenty of time to miss me. I am only home for the summer holidays. The rest of the year I spend at school, or helping out at the hospital. I am not even home for Christmas."

He nodded sadly as he conceded her point. She had a valid complaint and he hated to admit it. He did, however, find something new out about her, something he would talk to her about as they sat about drinking their tea. He had never heard about any training or studies or time spent in the hospitals before. It was a possibility of course. The convent did service a small sized hospital that was connected to the grounds. Aura could have spent a lot of time there for all he knew.

They moved on, loading her camping gear and supplies into the boot of the car then she ran back into the house, calling, not too loudly, back, as she raced up the stairs. "Only one more thing father and I will be back." She returned a few moments later with Roger.

Her step father laughed his amus.e.m.e.nt and commented: "I think you will be well guarded Aura, I will not have much to worry about. He is not only very protective of you, he seems to be very fond of you as well, if snakes are capable of such feelings."

She smiled as she stroked the head of the snake wound about her torso, and answered: "I never did thank you properly for him, and I suspect how much you probably had to go through to get him for me. Mother made it very clear to me what she thought of the idea of your buying him."

"She feared running into him in other parts of the house."

"I know. I have attempted to keep him contained so n.o.body would have any complaints about him. Roger really has been a very good snake."

They left, taking the next hour and a half to get her campsite set up with her pop-up tent and portable, but primitive, cook stove. She never went on any camping expedition without her little hibachi. After everything was set up to her satisfaction she started up a small fire and boiled some water for their tea.

"Did either of the girls, or your mother, tell you about the party we are giving on Sat.u.r.day night Aura?" Her stepfather spoke, giving himself an opening to approach her about her way of dressing and how he planned to change it, and her, a little.

It was not as if she dressed shabbily or had ever gone about dirty, but she needed dressing up. He wondered how she would react to his offer to help her find her true inner self.

Aura gave him a blank look then shook her head. "Why should they? I never attend their parties." She replied as if stating a fact.

"I know and I think it is about time things changed about the house."

"Somehow I have a feeling this is something we might be sorry trying father, perhaps we should pa.s.s on this idea."

"Well I do not happen to agree, so I want you to do me a favor, nor do I want to hear that it is impossible for you to do so. You went to the same finis.h.i.+ng school as the girls and I know you are capable of doing what I am about to ask."

He waited for her to reply and she watched him as their wills clashed. She did, owe him a favor, and some sort of allegiance, she supposed. To repay what she felt a clear and definite debt, she pushed her feelings of impending disaster aside and conceded, albeit with severe reservations.

"All right, for you I will give it a try."

"Good," he knew she would not back out after giving her word. With Aura he could count on that. He then began to fill her in on his plans. "I am going to pick you up on Sat.u.r.day morning and we are going shopping. That is the first order of business. After we are going to go to the stylist your mother and stepsisters frequent in order to transform you. I have had a suspicion for a long time that beneath that neglected exterior dwells an untouched and hidden beauty. Now I will know for sure."

"Father, this is a mistake." She warned him once more, feeling a need to voice her misgivings.

"I disagree. Give me a chance to prove to your mother that she has been wrong about you all of these years Aura." He pleaded as if looking desperately to bridge the invisible gap between mother and daughter.

Aura said nothing as she watched him rise to leave, but she sadly shook her head as she rose to see him off. She picked up her snake and walked beside her stepfather in silence, then stood as she watched him drive away, after bidding him a fond farewell.

When he was out of sight she gave a sigh, as she spoke to her snake. "He will never accept things as they are, will he? It would make no difference to mother if she could see me looking beautiful, she would just rather not have me alive in the first place."

Tears burned her eyes as she set Roger on the ground to go his own way. She had never told anyone how, when she had been eight, her mother had, in a fit of fury, told her exactly why she hated her. She looked like the man who had loved her mother, then left her. She had found herself with child shortly after he had gone and she had been left alone with his child. As they shared the same coloring she had become, for her mother, a living and constant memory of the only serious mistake she had ever made in her life.

It had hurt, this declaration of hate and the brutal telling of it by her mother. Aura had hidden in her room and cried, her child's heart broken to discover that her beautiful perfect mother could never love her. Nor had the revelation ceased to cause her pain, making her feel the stab of her rejection all over again, as if it had been repeated each time she had cause to remember it. Matters had not changed between mother and daughter over the years to indicate that they might. Though Aura never seemed to stop hoping that they would.

True to his word her stepfather reappeared four days later to take her shopping and to have her restyled for the party. Aura cooperated on everything, anything to make him happy, except for the hairstyle the beautician had wanted to give her. The woman had suggested that they cut over two feet off of her hair. There was no damage to the lengths of her hair to warrant such a sacrilege, for, to Aura, that was what it would have amounted to.