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DISCLAIMER: All characters, situations and circumstances are completely fictional and bear no resemblance to any person living or dead, or any event. The author reserves the right to reproduction of the stories without his express consent
Chapter 8-- Beginning of Revelations
Sean's Story V -- The Funeral I
"May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace." With the final words of the priest the coffin was buried and Tara Smith's burial ceremony concluded. Evan put an arm around my shoulder and hugged me tightly. Emily and her mother were inconsolable as they wept bitterly now; having remained subdued throughout the ceremony. A number of people from town had gathered to attend the funeral. The Mayor Mr. Rochester, the sheriff Cassandra Bronte, the eminent news reporter George Keats, the wealthy estate dealer Arthur Oakwood had graced the occasion. The presence of the most important people in town was strange considering the Smiths had no close contacts with any of them. I turned to look at our friends who stood watching the proceedings. There were others, the acquaintances of the Smiths.
Gradually, the party began to break as people started heading towards the Smith residence. Evan excused himself and told me he would meet me later. As we walked to the residence, Rebecca spoke.
"That was a tragic thing to happen. The Smiths are shattered."
"They say it was an animal attack. When did this town have animals? I hope the Halloween party isn't pulled off." Tyler Rochester rambled.
"Yeah! My costume's all set for the ball. I won't stand the cancellation." Rachael Bronte agreed with a whiff of her blonde hair.
"Stop it, guys! You're at a funeral. Have some sense." I broke in irritated.
"Hold your horses, Sean. Why are you getting bugged? We were just telling facts." Rachael snapped.
"Forget it." I snubbed her and walked away from the group. Tyler and Rachael were good friends but acted dorks at times. That was so insensitive. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Rebecca and Stephan.
"What's up Sean? You look off today." Rebecca asked me while Stephan cast me a questioning glance. Their faces showed genuine concern and affection. I sighed debating whether to share my feelings with them or not. I had doubts regarding Evan. But the chance of them being completely baseless both relaxed and unnerved me.
"Is it about Evan? Stephan tried to guess. My silence answered in the affirmative.
"You can share with us, man. We have been friends for years. Maybe we could help." He put a hand on my shoulders while Rebecca nodded in agreement.
I sighed and began voicing my concerns. "I may be wrong guys but I feel Evan is hiding something from me. Ever since the Tara case has come up he appears to be unnerved. He said it was because of a sister returning on the same night but I could sense otherwise."
Both my friends listened intently. Taking in what I had said, Rebecca spoke after a while.
"I feel whatever Evan said seems right. You are just worrying too much. Perhaps, because of the misery of last year you're seeing too much into things. You should relax, Sean. Give Evan his space and your faith."
Stephan nodded in agreement. I thought over what she had said. Perhaps, she was right. I was over-reacting. After all the reason he gave me was sensible. I smiled at my friends when Evan walked in.
"Hey honey. Hi guys. Something wrong?" He looked at me in Stephan's embrace and questioned.
Stephan quickly covered up. "Why? You jealous that your boyfriend is in my arms?" Rebecca and I smiled.
Evan gave a sly smile. "Very jealous! No one touches my boyfriend." He took me by the arm and pulled me into a bear hug. I snuggled into him as I felt guilty of doubting him.
"Should we get some drinks?" Rebecca suggested. Stephan joined her while Evan and I decided to leave. As we reached the exit Evan walked into an old man.
The man gave him a long searching odd look. "I know you. I've seen you before."
Evan politely smiled. "No, sir. I think you are mistaken. I haven't met you before. I just came to town a couple of weeks ago."
"No. I remember seeing you around thirty years ago. The same face, the same voice, no you are..." At this juncture a young lady walked in.
"Granddad, we've been looking all over the place. Why do you keep walking away?" She turned to us. "I'm sorry if he has disturbed you. Granddad is sick. We have to take him to the psychiatrist every week." With this she took the old man away who kept on staring at Evan.
Throughout the encounter I stood shocked with my mouth open. Evan turned to me and smiled. "Poor man. His nerves are really messed up. Thirty years ago! Jeez! I wasn't even born. Sean? Sean!"
"Yeah!" My mind had started raging into endless thoughts and I didn't realize Evan had been talking.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Weird man. Let's get going." Evan looked at me for a moment before giving me a smile. We walked towards the car. My thoughts were hung on Tara Smith and now the old man.
Aaron's Story III -- The Funeral II.
I saw Evan and Sean leaving in their car and turned to enter the house. People were engaged in conversations in their trios or fours. A consistent stream of visitors would approach the Smiths to console them and express their grief for their loss. Teary-eyed the mother and sister of the deceased talked to the visitors trying to ease their pain.
I needed a drink and decided to head to the counter. As I took my drink Tyler came up to me.
"Have you seen Sean?"
"He left with Evan a couple of minutes ago. You need something?"
Tyler seemed disappointed but shrugged his shoulders. "Nay man. Rachael and I acted dorks and Sean got pissed. I wanted to apologize but I guess some other time. Anyway, see ya." With a handshake he turned to join his friends from rugby.
I watched him go and turned to head elsewhere. I didn't notice the waiter and a glass of wine spilled on my shirt.
"Oh! I am so sorry sir. It was a mistake. I didn't see you coming." The waiter tried to clean apologizing fervently.
"It's okay." I shrugged him off and headed towards the washroom. Emily had seen the mess and directed me to go into the washroom in the bedroom on the first floor.
I thanked her and went upstairs. With ease I found the room and went into the washroom. Having grabbed a tissue and soaked it in water, I tried to clean the stain on my shirt. As I continued cleaning I heard voices in the room. I felt I should make my presence known when I heard Mayor Rochester's voice and stopped.
"Why on earth do you want us to meet here, Cassandra? This isn't a safe location. Anyone could be eavesdropping." Rochester rambled in an agitated tone.
A female's voice, perhaps the sheriff Cassandra's replied. "It's urgent, Rochester. I just received the autopsy reports. They have unnerved me and confirmed our darkest fears."
"Your darkest fears, Cassandra. We don't believe in the folklore of the town. Anyway, what does the autopsy say?"
"Tara Smith's body had been drained of blood. The marks on her neck don't bear any semblance to any animal specie around the town. You know what this means."
Another voice boomed in the room. I recognized it to be George Keats. "I knew it. The moment I saw her body I had guessed who was behind the attack."
"Enough, Keats. Stop running your horses. You're gonna throw caution to the winds." Rochester's wife Sybil intervened.
"Listen up, guys." That voice belonged to Arthur Oakwood. What were these guys up to? "Nothing can be confirmed yet. That was just one victim. Moreover, apart from those age-old journals, there is no proof that they exist. It's better not to jump to conclusions. And let's end this conversation here. The conference will be at my estate some other time."
"I agree. Cassandra, do a bit more looking around before the conference. And make sure no one gets any hint of the situation." Rochester instructed.
"Fine. Till next time then." She agreed.
"Let's join everyone downstairs." Sybil said and they left the room.
I heard them leave and came out of the washroom. My hearts was racing while everything I had heard continued to rage my mind. I was very confused and baffled. Various questions were storming my mind. Tara's death was not an animal attack? What did the folklore say? Why were they talking about beliefs in it? What did Bronte mean when she said Tara's body had been drained of blood? Why were they talking in secrecy? What conference were they talking about? Secrets and lies from the town's authority figures. What more lay hidden behind the smiling faces of these town dwellers?