The whispers, p.6
The Whispers, page 6
Visitors were infrequent that week. Both kids seemed to have a lot of homework with which to contend. They came home burdened each night. This seemed to help everyone remain industrious. Caisleán was enjoying his return to artistry, and Eagna was availing herself of the opportunity to allocate appointments to their enormous abode. Cosaint was constantly in Chéad’s company or lying on his bed when he was absent.
As the days of the week went by, they soon reached what felt like the countdown to Caisleán’s departure. But this was their customary lifestyle. The family had faced his absence due to being on a jobsite on numerous occasions. They were simply now doing it from a different location. It had the flavor of familiarity. They decided to have a cookout to celebrate their last weekend before Caisleán resumed working away from home.
Unlike before, the activities were all outdoors, and the guests were far fewer in number. It was really just some of the children’s friends. The lavy was the only destination for anyone going indoors. No items were lost, nor did anyone report unexplainable movements.
Caisleán was the only one with any misgivings about the cookout. He was alone when he started the fire. He had the strange apprehension that the rocks remembered flame. He was startled by this resonation occurring within the very structure beside him, which he had assembled. But two of the guests arrived just then, and his perception was interrupted.
The couple made the final evening last just as long as they could, but the weekend finally came to an extremely comfortable conclusion. Chéad and Gealaí, both exhausted from carousing with their friends, went to bed as soon as their guests left. None of the visitors had come far enough into the castle to even encounter Cosaint. His evening had gone smoothly too.
Eagna prepared a banquet for breakfast the next morning. Everybody jovially shared it together until it was time for the kids to catch the school bus. Caisleán waited until they’d gone before taking his leave of Eagna. It would be a week, unless something preempted his plan, before he would return from the worksite. They’d become acclimated to constantly being in each other’s company. He was having trouble with the words of parting.
“Dinna worry, ma love,” she reassuringly said. “Yer leaving us inside a fortress. We’d be safe here even if the villagers attacked.”
Caisleán was careful not to point out how problematic their protection could make any rescue as he laughed at her joke. But the passages and slides, as he knew, were in place to assure speedy egress. His hesitation was not a result of concern for their safety. He just hated having to leave.
After a prolonged kiss, he backed away with a smile and said, “I’ll call ye from the road.”
“I’ll keep the hame fires burning.”
Chapter Three
Keeping the Home Fires Burning
Eagna watched until Caisleán’s vehicle had finally disappeared down the road, and then she returned to the confines of the keep. Upon closing the door, she detected an odor that smelled like smoke. In response she initiated a search of the entire dwelling. There’d been no fire on the hearth since late spring, so she began in the kitchen. But being so conscientious, she’d left no burners going after breakfast. And it was not the origin of the worrisome aroma anyway.
She stopped in the bedrooms of both children as she worked her way upstairs. There was no trace whatsoever of the disturbing smell anywhere on the castle’s second level, but every light fixture had been left on in both bedchambers. This made absolutely no sense to her. She knew their kids were consummate conservationists. They had been raised to be that way. Such manifest wastefulness was completely out of character. She turned off the lights and continued upstairs.
She failed to notice the fact that Cosaint wasn’t on Chéad’s bed until she discovered the cat curled up on the bed in the master suite. This was not his customary conduct. She could only wonder if the bedchamber had been too bright with all the lights on or if something else had caused their cat to abandon his preferred resting place. He arose and stretched as she entered the room. He then sashayed to the edge of the bed, which placed him within arm’s length of the familiar human. But although he greeted her affectionately, it seemed to Eagna as if the cat seemed distracted. And no smell of smoke was to be found anywhere within the uppermost level, the one place to which smoke could be reasonably be expected to ascend. Of course, this left only one area to investigate.
The wine cellar felt uncommonly cold. This also seemed to make little sense. Even though the basement was belowground, and it was yet early morning, it was actually still summer. And she couldn’t help but recall that Caisleán had repeatedly complained about the basement being too warm. This reversal seemed totally out of place. She checked the vents, but they were all open. She couldn’t explain why the cellar suddenly felt so frigid.
She would most likely have dismissed her initial perception when she found no substantiation for the smell she thought she’d detected, but then something else happened. Upon returning to the kitchen to finish cleaning up after breakfast, she discovered that the lights were all on. This was not the condition in which she had left them. She was very certain of that. But other than that, nothing seemed at all out of place. And there wasn’t even a trace of the odor that had necessitated her search. She had to wonder if the lights would’ve come on if she’d still been in the room or if she’d been deliberately kept away from the kitchen while their activation occurred.
She smiled at the suggestion that she might’ve been manipulated. As usual, however, no harm had come from the odd incidents. She therefore chose to treat them as irrelevant. Without any additional interruptions, she completed her cleanup of the kitchen. She eventually retired to the library, where she finished a cup of tea in a leisurely fashion while gazing through the nearby window at the surrounding sunlit Scottish countryside.
Several years prior, after Gealaí had started school, Eagna had launched an Internet business. Her e-commerce had languished somewhat as a result of her efforts being diverted into preparing for the move. She now availed herself of the opportunity to modify her website, attempting to improve her trade. She took a brief lunch break, and then she went back to work in the library until it was time to start dinner and await the arrival of the children.
Nothing untoward occurred the rest of that day. When the kids came home, she accompanied them upstairs and helped with the unpacking of their schoolbags. She saw that Cosaint was once again in his customary location on Chéad’s bed, awaiting his preferred human’s return. However, she’d no idea as to when this translocation had taken place. She no more knew this than she understood why he’d abandoned Chéad’s bedroom to begin with. She carefully made no mention to her son of his beloved pet’s mysterious migration.
Caisleán called home several times during the course of that first day away. During the initial discussion, Eagna told him about the odd goings-on with the lights and the ephemeral smell that had persuaded her to conduct an examination of their dwelling. Because his subsequent calls exposed no further phenomena, he was able to dismiss his unease. In the last of those conversations that day, all members of the family were in good spirits as they wished him good night. Eagna told him not to worry but also promised to call him if anything disturbing transpired. Afterward she and the children went to bed.
The following day was blissfully free of any inexplicable events. Upon their arrival from school, Chéad and Gealaí both delivered bulletins from their respective teachers. They were invitations that encouraged the parents of all the pupils to attend an upcoming conference. Since the conference was scheduled to occur on a weeknight, it meant Caisleán would still be in Aberdeen and unable to participate. Eagna was disappointed when she realized this, but she knew her representation would be adequate.
By the time Caisleán came home for the weekend, all the anomalous occurrences had all but been forgotten. Days had passed without a single incident. The reunion meal, which the family shared late Friday night, was a festive affair. After dinner, when their children had gone upstairs, Eagna inquired about the possibility of Caisleán attending the school conference. But the project in Aberdeen was now in full swing, and he could not spare the time in the middle of the week that the trip would require. She assured him his attendance was entirely elective and that she fully understood his situation. After that they went to bed as well.
As a couple Caisleán and Eagna preferred not to set the alarm clock on the weekends. But since his time at home was now at a premium, they decided to disregard this inhibition. They wanted to maximize the amount of time he could spend with the family. Therefore, they arose much earlier on Saturday than was their wont. Caisleán had already dressed and gone downstairs when Eagna summoned him on the intercom.
Because the castle consisted of multiple levels and the bedchambers were spread between them, he had decided to install an intercom system. There were five panels in total: one in the master suite, one in each of the children’s bedrooms, one in the kitchen, and one in the library. The two on the main floor made it possible to call to somebody even if they happened to be in the great hall. But they’d have to press a key on one of the aforesaid panels in order to transmit. This was a safeguard to prevent the kids from accidentally overhearing moments of intimacy originating from the master suite. The system could facilitate communicating from station to station or be set to true intercom mode for a system-wide broadcast, if the intended recipient’s location was unknown. It therefore had lights to indicate which of the five panels was sending a transmission.
“Caisleán,” Eagna said, using intercom mode, “could ye come back up here please?”
A quaver in his wife’s voice informed the architect that something was not right. Determined to help with preparations for the family breakfast, he had already set the table. He promptly abandoned his effort and bounded up the stairway. In no more than a matter of moments, he joined Eagna in the master suite. He noted the distinctly suspicious expression with which she was silently regarding the alarm clock.
“Dee ye notice something amiss?” she asked as he strode to stand at her side.
After a momentary examination of the indicated device, he answered, “It’s displaying the wrong time. It’s not the wee hours of the morn. The sun alone testifies to that truth.”
“Look at where the alarm is set,” she said.
“It’s set for the time we wanted to wake up,” he said with a shrug. But then he suddenly understood the inconsistency.
“Ma phone and ma watch baith agree it woke us on time. But hou did that happen when the clock itself is incorrect?” she carefully inquired.
“Can ye think of any way to explain it?” he inquired, now completely at a loss. She was the most intelligent person he knew. If there was a possible way to rationalize the incident, he knew she was certain to suggest it.
“This clock has a battery backup, which is why we use it as our alarm clock,” she replied. “In the event of a power outage, it’s the one timepiece on which we should be able to rely. Its battery wis replaced right after we moved in, as a precautionary measure. As ye can see, the second hand is moving. It’s keeping time, just the wrong time. If it somehow had gotten disconnected and the battery had dee’t, it wadna hae awakened us. We baith know it did. I therefore canna think of any explanation that wad account for it being aff by hours and yet awakening us on schedule.”
“It wad hae been a fairly minor annoyance if it’d failed to dee so,” he introspectively observed. “Nonetheless, we weren’t even inconvenienced. As with aw the other odd occurrences, no harm wis actually experienced. It’s like something is trying to get our attention, rather than doing anything damaging. Whit does that mean?”
“If some sort of intelligence is involved, I wad hae to agree with yer assessment,” she pensively responded. “But I canna speculate about why it wad want our attention. Maybe some kind of clue will be forthcoming.”
“Why dee ye suppose it wad hae rearranged the furniture in Gealaí’s room but not anywhere else?” he unexpectedly asked.
“Children are impressionable and more open to possibilities. Maybe it wis out of desperation. But it occurs to me that timepieces were also part of the things misplaced at the party. That has to figure into whitever we’re dealing with.”
“Is that not consistent with our wirking theory that this is aw related to something that happened here a long time ago?” he asked, confused.
“It could relate instead to something that has somehow been trapped here for a long time.”
“Richt,” he cautiously concurred. “But I dinna like that theory nearly as much.”
“If it wants us to help it somehow, it needs to be far more explicit with its request. I canna see anything that’d seem to suggest a recommended course of action. But I’m going to start a journal. Perhaps if we can review awthing that’s happened in context, we’ll start to see something that at least resembles a solution.”
“That is an excellent idea. But ye should include yer impressions of the events, not just the events themselves. Maybe that’s the most crucial part.”
Having benefited from her insight before, Caisleán wanted to be sure she captured her initial interpretations of anything else that transpired.
“Ay,” she softly replied, recognizing the depth of his request. But then she went on to say, “If these actually are echoes of people who lived here in the past, they’d be from long ago, not anyone we’d recognize. I told ye whit happened to me. But these wadna be from anyone related to us.”
“Hou does that alter the dynamic?” he asked. “Are we better aff one way more than the other?”
“They wadna love as any relative hopefully wad,” she replied. “But then again, there’d be no emotional component. Because we’re unfamiliar to them, we should hae at least an even chance of getting along with our insubstantial neighbors.”
“Guid,” he sounded relieved to say.
He was well aware of the incident to which she was referring. Early in their relationship, she had shared an experience with him that’d happened when she was still very young. She’d seen an apparition. She was certain it had been that of her deceased grandmother. As a result she had grown up with the belief that some part of a person endured after death. And this premise had become a critical feature of her philosophy. She realized this ephemeral afterglow had not behaved according to accepted religious paradigms. Its presence on earth after death was incompatible with many of the most popular belief systems. She consequently became more open to alternate explanations of existence. And Caisleán deeply respected her capacity for viewing events from unconventional angles. Considering their circumstances, he now needed that from her more than ever before.
There was no other weirdness that weekend. Since the kids both had friends come over, this was a welcome relief. With the single exception of Cosaint, whose emotional condition couldn’t be quantified, every member of the family had come to quietly accept that certain unexplainable events were probably going to occur. However, no one except the household had been privy to the unending phenomena since the night of the open house. The Tógálaís loved to entertain. But concerns now came with every guest they received. If something supernatural were to manifest before a visitor, a social disaster could easily ensue. For the time being, that fear seemed unfounded.
Since Caisleán wanted to be at the jobsite early Monday morning, he left for Aberdeen late Sunday afternoon. He promised Eagna and the kids that he would call as soon as he reached his room. He also expressed his regrets to Chéad and Gealaí that he’d be unable to attend the conference at the school, but they didn’t seem particularly disappointed. He’d already met their teachers, and he knew the conference was mostly intended to keep the parents in the educational loop. He turned east as he reached the end of the driveway, and then he skirted the south side of Insch as he drove into the gathering darkness.
Chéad and Gealaí helped their mother clear away the remnant of the evening meal, which they’d shared with their father just before he’d left, and then they retired to their respective bedrooms to put the finishing touches on their homework. Eagna worked on her website up until Caisleán finally called. The children, as she quickly discovered, were already both in bed. She opted not to wake them. After hanging up she carefully checked the time on the alarm clock, set it for the next morning, and then turned in.
The first part of the following week was so normal, it was almost idyllic. Nothing malfunctioned or was found out of place. Eagna began to wonder if they had perhaps appeased the supernatural presence through simple acceptance. It didn’t seem as determined to get their attention any longer. The effort she’d put into her website was already being rewarded, and the children seemed to have fully adjusted to their new curriculum. It felt as if the tranquility of their life in Glasgow had now been successfully transferred to the castle.
The parent/teacher conference was scheduled to occur at six o’clock that Wednesday evening. The day dawned brightly. Eagna made preparations for fixing a swift supper that would allow plenty of time to get ready for the conference. She didn’t want the kids to feel rushed. She wanted it to have the aura of an outing rather than an official function. After all, they’d spent all day at the facility to which they would be returning. Therefore she was determined to make it as fun for them as it could possibly be.
Cosaint surprised her by hanging out around his food bowl while she was in the kitchen. She couldn’t recall the last time the cat had chosen to keep her company. She lost track of him when her activities took her into another part of the keep, but it was nice to be reminded that she was not actually alone within the immense structure. She found herself wondering why he’d abandoned the sunny spots in the towers, but she had too much on her mind to give the subject more than momentary consideration. She knew that cats often behaved in unpredictable ways.
