Dark Memories Submerged by I. T. Lucas
Cassandra
Talk about being saved by the bell, or the ring, as was the case.
Tucking her purse under her arm, Cassandra opened the front door just as Onegus pulled up to the curb.
“You both look spectacular.” He held the back passenger door open for her mother.
“Thank you.” Geraldine smiled at him. “You’re very kind.”
“I’m just truthful.” He opened the front passenger door for Cassandra. “You okay?” he whispered as he kissed her cheek.
She nodded even though she was far from it.
Cassandra was anxious and worried.
Were they doing the right thing with her mother?
The plan had seemed solid when they’d come up with it. Bring Geraldine to the clan’s hidden village, confront her about her immortality and the family she’d left behind, and have her admit that she’d staged her own death by drowning. Roni would be there with Geraldine’s fake driver’s licenses as well as family photos of her with her older daughter, the one she seemed to have forgotten.
Was it all an act?
Was her mother aware of not aging? Did she remember having another family a long time ago? Or had she really lost her memory and didn’t know either?
Confronted with her immortality and her past, Geraldine might spiral into one of her episodes. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, her mother would become incoherent, babble nonsense and jumbled sentences, and cry for hours.
Sometimes it took days to bring her back to normal, or as normal as she got.
“You’re tense,” Onegus said. “Do you want me to put on some music?”
“I would love some,” Geraldine said from the backseat. “Did I tell you about Cassy’s dad? He was a musician.”
“That’s a new one,” Cassandra whispered.
When her mother felt nervous or insecure, her stories got even more fantastical than usual.
One of Geraldine’s two favorites was the one about her father working for the Ethiopian embassy. In one story he was the ambassador, in another an aide, and in yet another variation an analyst. But at least that story was pretty consistent. In all versions, his name was Emanuel, he was tall, handsome, and had a great smile. Her mother’s other favorite was the brain surgeon she’d supposedly met in the hospital while recovering from her injury. He was brilliant, the head of the neurosurgical department, and a favorite of the nurses. His name changed from one telling of the story to another. Then there was the astronaut, who made an appearance once or twice a year, and a host of many others that had been one-time guests, like the musician she’d made up on the spot right now.
Onegus reached across the center console for Cassandra’s hand. “What kind of music did he play?”
“Jazz, sometimes Blues.” Geraldine sighed. “Every night, I sat in the back of the club and listened to his band perform. When he was on break, he would come to sit with me, and we would share a drink and talk and laugh. At the end of the night, after they were done playing, he would dance with me.”
“Was he famous?” Onegus asked. “Maybe I’ve heard of him?”
Onegus was playing along, which was helping Geraldine relax. Getting deeper into her story mode always did.
“His name was Luis.” She looked out the window. “He and his band weren’t famous. They were young musicians, but they were good.”
As Geraldine dove into her fantasy world, making up club names and going on about the famous actors and actresses coming to see Luis perform, Cassandra closed her eyes and tried to calm down.
The stress about the upcoming confrontation was stirring up her inner destructive energy, and if she didn’t find a way to relax, she might blow something up.
Given that they were in a moving vehicle, that was extremely dangerous. Not so much for her mother and Onegus, who were immortal, but Cassandra was still human, which was another reason for her mounting stress.
She should have started transitioning already.
But that was a worry for another time. Right now, she needed to get the swirling turmoil under control.
When her energy blasts discharged, they mostly shattered glass and clay containers, but they could also melt electronics. Hopefully, she’d be able to hold it in until they reached the village, where she could aim the blast at a glass or a pot.
Given how elaborate Geraldine’s story was becoming, her mother was nervous as hell, but at least she didn’t notice when the windows started turning opaque and Onegus took his hands off the wheel.
They were nearing the village, and the car’s computer had taken over. For the remainder of the trip, the windows would stay opaque, so they wouldn’t know where the secret entrance to the underground tunnel was.
When the car entered the tunnel, Geraldine finally noticed that something wasn’t right. “Where are we? Why did it get dark all of a sudden?”
“We are in a tunnel,” Onegus said. “I hope that you’re not claustrophobic.”
“I’m not. But where is this tunnel? I didn’t know there was one in this part of the city.”
Right then, the car came to a stop, and a moment later, Cassandra felt it going up. They were in the elevator.
“What’s that?” Her mother’s tone was bordering on panicked.
“It’s just a lift to an upper-level parking,” Onegus said.
“Oh.” Geraldine let out a breath and slumped in her seat. “It’s in one of those underground parking structures.”
“Precisely.” Onegus turned to her and smiled reassuringly. “We are almost there.”