Priscilla Sum

Part 6--The Amulet

By the time I woke to my alarm the next morning, the turbulence of the night before had dissipated.

I got dressed and started my day by grabbing a quick breakfast and coffee, and flipping through a textbook on Mediterranean cultures. The Greek mythology and theology was the most common everybody knew, but there were several other sects and belief systems discovered through archaeological investigations throughout the years. I ran my fingers over the pictures, thinking of Mom's wall of reserved artifacts, and imagining what it would be like to uncover a piece of history that no one had seen before. I pulled out notecards and jotted down the different people groups that had been identified and the significant pieces that denoted the group's unique belief system.

A few pages later, my eyes caught the word "healing" and I stopped.

The picture showed a small amulet, an orange stone with red and black veins that looked like an eyeball. The stone was set in an onyx-studded frame, and something itched at the back of my brain. My thoughts spun as I brought the textbook with me downstairs, to Mom's display room.

There were pedestals and tables scattered throughout, and shelves along the wall lined with plastic cases containing artifacts. On that shelf, I found it.

The exact same artifact. On display in my house. The hypothetical illustration had a priest wearing it on a chain around his neck, and beams shooting out from it, while people within the beams depicted with grotesque and debilitating maladies were changing into hale and unblemished people. I read the section on it.

"Healing Amulet, discovered ca. 1876 in the Sithonia region of Greece. Said to contain a trio of healing spirits. Once a year, in the first full moon of Spring, the temple outside Sithonia would hold a ceremony where all who were ailing or injured would come before the priest who wore the amulet and spoke the incantation, calling upon the supposed spirits, and everyone in the presence of the amulet would be healed."

My thoughts immediately went to Tony. Purely out of curiosity, I checked online to see when the next full moon would be. April 9th—this coming Monday.

I shook my head. "Come on, Pris," I muttered to myself, "this stuff isn't even real. There's no way..." and yet, as I walked out of the room and went to pack up my stuff to meet Tony in Study Hall, I couldn't get the notion out of my head.

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As it turned out, Tony had also noticed that particular notation, but he'd read a little further in the text, which had given him a different insight into it.

"It says on the next page that the strange veins were probably from mineral deposits. Maybe the people recorded as 'healed' weren't actually sick to begin with... maybe it had something to do with the composition of the stone."

I tapped my pencil on my notebook. "Like the way magnetite or amber is used for therapeutic reasons?"

Tony grinned. "Exactly."

The day moved on, and by mid afternoon, I left my last class, ready for the weekend.

Walking into the house, I found myself wandering into the display room again. The amulet with the eyeball still piqued my interest. I glanced at the plaque mounted next to it. "Amulet of Apophis, Giza ca. 1796."

"Priscilla?"

I jumped and recoiled from the shelf, my heart pounding with a sudden guilt, even though it was just my mom and she hadn't even yelled at me or anything.

I turned to face her as she approached, a slight smile in her eyes. "I didn't hear you come home. What were you looking at?" She glanced down the length of the shelf.

I gestured vaguely. "Just a few of the artifacts, because the textbook I'm studying right now mentions a couple of them." I pulled the book out of my bag and flipped to the page. "Like this one," I pointed to the picture of the amulet. "It says here that it's some kind of healing amulet from Sithonia... but the plaque says it was discovered in Giza."

Mom squinted a little and tilted her head. "Hmm, you're right, that is strange."

She didn't add anything more, so I tried prompting. "So which one is right?"

Mom shrugged. "I couldn't really tell you for sure. The plaque came with the artifact, I didn't necessarily have any reason to question whether it had been labeled properly or not."

I scrunched my face up, but Mom had already turned away to attend to something on her tablet. The same itching anxiety threatened to rear its ugly head--I needed answers, and I was at a loss which source to believe! The mention of Sithonia brought back notions of my dad--hadn't he said he knew a story from that region? At the very least, anything he knew about the lore originating in Sithonia couldn't be any less credible than the assertions stated in my textbook. I sighed and slipped the textbook back into my backpack. The discrepancy nagged at me all the way up to my room. As if to confirm my next move, the first thing I saw on my dresser was the locket my parents had given me upon my adoption. I only wore it sometimes, when I needed the extra boost of courage and comfort it gave--such as right about now. Fastening the locket around my neck, I made the trek out to the shores of Lake Michigan. The sun was out, so I knew he'd be swimming.

The lake wasn't all that calm, as the wind churned up plenty of small waves. I wrapped my coat closer around myself as I found a seat on an outcropping of rocks and waited. At the very least, I could find solace in the sound of the water lapping against the shore. The lake was a bit choppy today, but that was how Dad liked it. He always said the challenge of wrestling with the unpredictable forces of currents and wind gusts made him feel more alive than, as he put it, "paddling through a passive puddle."

My eye fell on a cluster of oddly-colored pebbles, and I didn't even realize how mesmerized I was until Dad coughed and I noticed him for the first time, already standing on the shore beside me. Water still trickled from his hair down his skin. The sun was resting against the horizon.

"Oh, Hi Dad," I stammered.

His gaze seemed to search my face, neither excited nor disappointed. "Hello yourself, Stranger." He waited till I glanced up at him with a small smile, and plopped down next to me on the rock. Even wet, his skin still radiated warmth.

He waited.

I waited.

The water continued to evaporate from him.

I coughed. "About last night..."

His head turned a little too quick, and he eyed me with a glimmer of hope.

What was it he expected me to say next?

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked.

There it was. I shook my head. "Not entirely; I mean, I still feel the same way, I just..." I sighed and leaned against his large, round shoulder. "I'm sorry I said it the way I did. I didn't mean to hurt you or push you away."

He shifted under my head, but it was only to bring his arm around my back and let me lean against his side. He reached up and stroked the hair on the side of my head. "Then what was all that big-girl talk about turning down my bedtime stories and blaming me for the school assignments that went wrong?"

"Dad," I shifted so I could look up at him. "I said I'm sorry!" The words came out in a rush. "I'm just feeling a whole lot of pressure with this dig and the exam coming up, like a lot of people at the school are already singling me out for some reason, and on top of all that, this dig opportunity sounds like the ticket to everything I've been hoping for, and I really don't want to miss out, if I even have a chance!"

Dad clasped my hand in his and let out a rumbling chortle. "What do you mean, if you have a chance? Priscilla, your mother and I have always believed that you are exceptionally bright, there's no question about that. Besides," He gave my shoulder a squeeze. "What is it that you're hoping for, and how would a dig provide the answer to that?"

I let my legs dangle over the edge of the rock, dropping lightly down to the ground. Dad stood behind me, almost completely dry except his hair. I took a few steps, hoping to feel something inside, but the only thing I actually felt was a rumbling tummy as I knew Mom would have whipped up something nice for dinner by now.

"I don't actually know," I confessed.

Dad didn't let go of my hand, but pulled me closer to him in a hug. Between us, I felt the round shape of my locket rubbing against my collarbone. I smiled and concentrated on the sound of the heartbeat so close to my ear. I might not know the reason right this moment, but I just knew that if I kept going, everything would become clearer in time.

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Fourteen Years Prior....

She sat on the lumpy couch that sank down too far in the back, kicking the heels of her borrowed shoes against the loose gap in the bottom runner. Two years, she'd been with the Parks--temporarily, just so she'd have somewhere to live while the agency searched for a good candidate for her "forever home." Now the young girl, all of six years old, nearly ready to lose her first tooth, ran her fingers over the arm of the couch, wondering who she was going to meet today.

The strangers were tall. They both had low voices.

"What's her name?" the woman asked Mrs. Ende softly.

The stocky woman who had chaperoned her to the visitation center came to stand beside the couch. She placed a hand on the little girl's arm.

"This is Priscilla," she said to the woman. To her young charge, she said, "Priscilla, this is Mr. Thiele and Ms. DelVento."

Priscilla pulled her arm out from Mrs. Ende's touch. She stared at the graceful woman in the fancy clothes. She couldn't even bring herself to look at the burly, lion-like man standing behind her. The fiery blue eyes and the dark beard terrified the young girl. He looked angry, and fierce. Her knees came up under her chin, and she wrapped her arms close against her body. She tucked herself into the back corner of the couch, willing the massive cushions to expand and swallow her.

Her chin began to tremble and tears itched the corners of her eyes.

"Mommy..." she whimpered softly.

Mrs. Ende backed away. "I'll leave you three to get acquainted," she muttered, and ducked around Mr. Thiele to get through the door.

Ms. DelVento held Priscilla's gaze as she slowly crossed the room. She held her hands behind her back now.

"Priscilla?" she spoke the name, and smiled warmly. "That's a pretty name. My name is Aurelia." She paused a bit. "I have something for you, Priscilla."

The girl didn't move, but she did forget her panic when Aurelia DelVento produced a massive teddy bear from behind her back. It was almost as big as Priscilla herself, as she crawled out from the depths of the couch to receive it. Her arms wrapped around its neck and she clasped her hands together, squeezing the bear hard against her. When she let the bear sag down under her chin, the big bear-like man sat on the floor. Even then, he was still head-and-shoulders taller than the tiny girl, but at least he wasn't so scary anymore.

"Hello, Priscilla," he said in a booming voice, even though she could tell he was trying to speak as softly as he could. "I'm Patrick. Would you like to be friends with me?"

In response, Priscilla buried her face in the soft plush fur again. She heard Mr. Thiele and Mrs. DelVento whispering to one another.

"I think that's enough excitement for one day."

"Poor little tyke."

"Well, now that we've met one of them, we can discuss with a better idea of what's in store, can't we?"

When Priscilla looked up again, Mrs. Ende was in the room. She looked all kinds of stunned at the gift the couple had given her.

"Oh, my! That is a huge teddy!" She looked at the couple. "Are you sure you don't want to take it with you, perhaps to give to the child you end up fostering?"

Priscilla gripped it tighter at the suggestion.

Ms. DelVento shook her head. "It belongs to Priscilla now. She can do whatever she likes with it." She caught Priscilla's wondering gaze and smiled again. "She can take it to whichever home she ends up in. Goodness knows a child that young needs something consistent in their life!"

Priscilla stood in the middle of the room, clinging to the bear as hard as she dared. Couples might come and go, she might be living with the Parks for longer than anyone anticipated--but now that she had the bear, she had something to hold onto.

Six months later, just after her seventh birthday, Priscilla DelVento-Thiele lay in her own bed, in her own room, decorated with trinkets and furniture and designs selected specifically for her. She tossed and turned, whimpering as she struggled against the bonds of her own psyche in the throes of a nightmare. The large teddy bear lay in a heap on the floor.

The door slid open, and a brawny figure slipped into the room. Making surprisingly little sound for someone of his stature, he picked up the bear and sat on the end of the bed.

Priscilla finally arrived in wakefulness, gasping for breath and ready to burst into tears. She took one look at the shadowy figure sitting on her bed and immediately crawled toward him, seeking solace in his lap. He held her close, and placed the teddy in her arms. His deep, rumbling voice murmured soothing consolations like the summer thunder that so often lulled her to sleep.

"It's okay, Priscilla," he reassured her. "I'm right here. You have nothing to fear. You're safe, and we love you."

The haunting images of the nightmare returned, and Priscilla buried her head in his shoulder. "I got lost, and I couldn't find anybody... I was all alone and a storm came!" The sobs threatened to choke her now.

Patrick's broad hands stroked her head. "Shh, it's not true. It's over now. The storms can't touch you anymore." He shushed again, letting her frantic breathing subside. "I have something for you, that will help you feel better."

The young girl picked up her head. "You do?"

Patrick reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small item. In the dim glow of the nightlight, Priscilla stared in awe at the locket hanging from the delicate silver chain. It had two different patterns of a lovely filigree on either side. Priscilla eagerly sat forward and allowed Patrick to fasten it around her neck. As the cool metal touched her skin, just above her heart, she felt all her pent-up fear and confusion dissipate, and she could relax once more.

Patrick laid her down on the pillow, and tucked the blankets under her chin. She felt his hand resting on her shoulder, and heard his low voice humming a gentle lullaby. She drifted off to a dreamless sleep, full of the knowledge that, for the first time, she was exactly where she belonged.

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