Autumn

Chapter 3

George bust through the door when he heard my scream. I noticed he was still in his dress pants and button down shirt, and his hair was in disarray which I found charming, but was unable to process that fact until later when the shock had worn off.

"Blue smoke?" He echoed, blinking and wide eyed as he tried to process consciousness.

"Yeah." I breathed. It was all I could muster in such a state.

"I think you've had a long day Autumn... I'm sure it was a dream, or some kind of sleep state induced hallucination..."

He was beginning to sound exactly like my mother. 

"I never fell asleep! That's impossible." I frowned. "Look, I'll prove it. There used to be a door here." I said, standing up and marching towards the area where she passed through.

George thought on that for a moment, and came toward the door. feeling the panel and knocking on it with an ear glued to the surface. 

"She was afraid of something. There was something outside that she was running from, packing up and... She must have been trying to leave."

That made George stop in his tracks. "I'm sure you've already heard the story, it's all over town what happened. Your subconscious was just playing-" Suddenly he was cut off as the panel moved beneath his finger tips and swung open with a trail of dust in its wake. 

--

We were travelling through what appeared to be an old tunnel. It was dank and smelly, cobwebs abounding. There had to have been an exit, I reflected. If there was to be this much bug infested surroundings, there had to be an outdoor connection. 

"The McLarens ran from town to escape persecution." George said suddenly at my side. "The Edwards and the McLarens always butted heads over the rights to the spring. They were business partners, the two that found it, James Edwards and Malcolm McLaren. They both manned the business at first, but things came crashing down when James found Malcolm in bed with his wife Sorcha..." There was a smile in George's voice when he spoke, though I couldn't see it in the near pitch black of the tunnel.

My brows rose at that. 

"And then what?" I urged.

"Well, they fought ever since, suing each other almost constantly over land disputes. The Spring was on the McLaren's land, but the Edwards were business partners of the McLarens. You see how it's starting to get complicated?"

I nodded, and realizing he couldn't see me in the dark, gave a belated "mhm" of acknowledgment.

"Back then the springs were special because they were fabled to heal the sick. As the years passed however, it got harder to compete with the McLarens, so they would try everything to one up each other. Adding color, promising more from their product, that the McLaren's product was defunct. Smearing campaigns abounding even as it got passed down generation to generation." He breathed, "One day in 1842, it must have been a moment of desperation for the man. William McLaren, the grandson of Malcolm, decided to add an ingredient to his water supply to boost the effects. Back then, mercury was a medicine, a healing liquid."

"Right." I supplemented, "So he added mercury to the water to get a foot forward."

"Exactly." George said, and we suddenly breeched the tunnel, and the mood shifted violently, at least for me. As we stood in an area of the woods where the moon rose above the trees, and I remembered I was just wearing a T shirt and underwear. I covered my breasts with the classic cross-armed "I'm not wearing a bra" stance.

"So they got sick, then?" I inquired, looking up at George who seemed taken with the moon. His beautiful profile was lit so gorgeously, I wanted to paint him right there, but figured that might make things a bit odd. And so I coughed instead to dispel the feeling creeping up in my chest, deducing it must have been phlegm.