We drift down the street and park next to one house that has a sign hanging out front. It reads,The Spanish Mossin bold dark pink letters against a white background. The sign looks fairly new, but the building itself looks as if it's seen centuries pass through its brick foundation.
“Well, here we are. This place has been around for years. Changed names and owners a handful of times,” he says. He turns off the ignition. “As of right now, it’s back to its original owner’s great-great-grandson. Either way, I have a feeling you’ll like the food.” Ry seems so sure of his last comment.
“And how do you know what I’ll like?” I retort, giving him a sideways glance with a bit of a jest.
He just directs an overly smug grin my way, his silence speaking volumes. Half an hour later, I’m shoving the best veggieomelet greedily in my mouth. Not realizing I was so badly in need of a good homemade meal. And wow, it is good. Ry sits across from me, sipping his coffee with eyes that read of his satisfaction of being right.
We have a pleasant talk about finances while we eat. One which mainly involves Ry telling me things, while I scarf down all the food placed in front of me. He presents the idea of my homesteading the estate so that taxes are more manageable.
“I think the details of your shop will come in time. Right now, you should focus on the present—on the house,” Ry explains. I can’t help but agree. This place has set its voodoo on me. I’m all in.
“So, you were right. This food is amazing,” I finally cave, changing the subject and I admit defeat, putting the napkin on the empty plate before me.
“Ah, yes, I usually am, Jade,” he says, his sureness shining through, “and it helps to know the owners. Would you like to meet them…Oh, well, never-mind, here they come.”
Ry stands, and I can’t help but notice how truly tall he is. He towers over the couple arriving to welcome us at our table. I quickly stand as well.
The two that greet me have beautiful moon-shaped eyes that speak of all the kindness they keep within. Here I was expecting a young couple, but these two are well into their sixties, and look at us as if we are the rare hidden gems in the room.
“Jade, let me introduce you to Walt and Cattie. These two are very dear old friends,” Ry voices. I take their hands in greeting and am flooded with warmth and sincerity.
“Jade, it is so nice to see you. I imagine you are the one who has taken residence over The Rooted Realm Estate?” Cattie says. I look to Ry, surprise clearly on my face that they would know anything about me, but his face is indifferent. Cattie continues,“Hopefully, it is everything you’ve dreamt it would be. We used to visit that place long ago. We’ve always wondered if it fell apart over the years. Do tell, how has it held up?”
“Actually, for how old and massive it is, I would say it has held up really well. It seems taken care of, especially the property. And yes, I find I’m growing quite fond of it.” I say, glancing over at Ry. But I have more questions on my mind to ask, so I continue, “You must have known my uncle if you say you’ve been there before?”
“Oh yes, we knew him well when he was younger. He would hold the most extravagant parties. Your uncle made sure we always had a good time, that is for sure.” Cattie giggles as if lost in the wonderful memories of those parties.
Walt doesn’t say much, but his stare does. A host to curiosity and something else I can’t quite put my finger on.
“I think that is enough talk about Rowan’s parties,” Ry says, an edge cutting through in his tone. Why he doesn’t want to talk about my uncle, I don’t know, but the sweet restaurant owners change the subject quickly.
There isn’t much talk after, but what little there is comes easy until we say our goodbyes. I promise to visit again. How can I not? I leave feeling lighter even though I ate my weight in food, and I am so pleased to have some form of knowledge of my uncle and the magic that the estate used to hold.
I’m deep in thought about the information I just learned when I feel a hand on the small of my back and a slight shock. It is Ry’s, and the shock sends a current up my spine that produces a small gasp from my lips.
Ry acts as if nothing happened, of course. He looks me in the eye as we walk out the doors and points to a park across the way. It seems he has reverted to cold Ry since our conversation withThe Spanish Mossowners.
“In a time before you and me, this park was the start of this town.” His voice serious, but thawing. “There’s a town myth that says it holds the memories of all that has happened here because of the river that runs through it.” He still holds out his arm, making sure I see where it is directed before he continues. “It’s the same riverthat connects all the way back to your very own Rooted Realm Estate,” he says, his impromptu history lesson warming him some.
I look at the park, seeing a mass of old, gigantic oaks and hickories full of wispy Spanish moss. A beautiful stone bridge connects one land to the next, with a river down the middle. It is an eerily beautiful sight, and I take it in wholly, feeling I have been here before.
I walk to the bridge in hopes of going over it. The stones seem worn, but sturdy. I can only imagine what stories they hold in the quiet of their time here.
It is within seconds of taking one step on the bridge that I see a young woman with hair the color of mine, and a man I can’t make out. Words are being hurled between them in argument. She is similar to the woman I saw on that stormy night, but different, too. She is crying and pushing him back, while he pulls at his hair in frustration.
In a flurry of motion, she stands unsteadily on the bridge, pulling out a knife. She moves the blade to each of her wrists, pushing down with force. Blood oozes out from the deep slicing of her veins. And with a splash, she jumps in. Just like that. The beautiful flowing river turning the deepest shade of red.
I suck in a deep breath and move my foot back off the bridge. The two are gone, as if it were all in my mind, because they were. Another vision I must tuck away, holding too much weight within me.
I turn and stare at the two hands that grasp tight to my shoulders. They are Ry’s, and he looks furious, heartbroken even.
“Are you alright?” He asks visibly shaken, as if he could know what I just saw.
“I don’t know…I mean, yes, sorry. I was just in my mind for a minute,” I stammer. I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“Here, let’s get you back home.” Caring Ry makes a debut. He then adds, as if trying to ease the tension, “I’d like to check out those trees you said were damaged in the storm.”
We both move along as if nothing transpired at all. In fact, maybehe couldn’t tell anything was going through my mind in that moment on the bridge. The beauty of my visions being that I now know how to actmostlynormal after I come back to the present. I push them back and do my best to retain my repose, hoping there will be no other surprise mind warps.
