Palindrome
Memories

The following days passed without significant incidents; the only glimpse I got of the Adamson family was when they passed by the café in their fancy car. I wanted to spy on their house but thought better of it; what information could I get from that? It was a bad idea to try to get in there alone. I could cast a cloaking spell, but somehow, I guessed they would be able to pick up on that. The thought of the one named William finding me sneaking around his room gave me shivers. Strange shivers. Wrong shivers.

Samuel hadn’t called me back yet, which meant he hadn’t found out any more, either. I was staring into the air when Paul startled me awake. He apologized with a small smile; people didn’t get to creep up on me that often.

“Hannah, do you mind getting the plates?” A bit embarrassed, I excused myself before I hustled away. I could think at home; I wouldn’t get any answers from slacking off at work, that`s for sure.

----

I waved my goodbyes to Paul and Mary before I got up on my bike. I was due for three days off, meaning I could do some research without interruption. I pedaled fast from behind the café, but someone was standing in the way. I hit the brakes and screamed a warning; the person stood still, not flinching. Heart hammering in my throat, I wanted to yell at the girl. She just stood there staring at me, hands down her side.

“Are you ok? You can`t just stand in the middle of the road like that, you know.” Her eyes responded first; I saw a glimmer of evil laughter. With dread, I recognized the eyes. “Ahh, you`re from the Pevensy-house, aren`t you?” The girl, a few years younger than me, smiled in answer. “William and Benjamin talked about you. I wanted to meet you for myself. To see if they`d told the truth.” Her voice was like bells. When she walked to the side of the road, it was like watching a dancer on a stage. “And what did they tell you?” I didn’t take my eyes off her. The girl took a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and offered me one. She slid one elegantly out and lighted it when I declined. I wafted away the smoke that blew in my face and waited for her to answer. I tried to get a reading out of her, but I came up blank. There was nothing; she didn’t give out any vibes. When I thought about it, neither had her brother. It was only William who had made me feel something. Before I knew it, a vision of him lowering me to the ground flashed in my head. He was tender, and I was eager. I shook my head, focusing on what the girl was saying.

“They said you were special. That you were strong.” She looked me over like I was a horse she was about to buy. “They also said you were pretty. I’m afraid I must disagree with them on all of those.” She didn’t mention which one. “Did they?” I smiled at her, sizing her up. Mountain ash in my pocket would halt her if she attacked me, but just momentarily. It`d be much easier if I knew what they were. She seemed pretty forward with the fact that they were different, but I doubted she would tell me anything substantial.

I straightened, “Well, I am. Special and strong, that is.” I was better off if she was scared. “What should I say about you if anybody asks?” Her eyes glimmered with laughter and self-confidence, so like her brothers. The blond girl stumped the cigarette and sauntered to me on her ballerina's legs. Her eyes flashed green; “You can say I`m everything you are and more.”

With that, she walked out of the alley; she was gone when I was on the main street.

At home, I went straight to the library. I`d had thought there in the alley, something that floated by me, but I wasn’t sure if there was any substance to the idea. Many years ago, Samuel had been here with his family, Bridget and I were playing outside, and Samuel and my dad were talking in dad`s study. I needed to use the bathroom, so I ran inside. When I got back, I saw them both leaning over the desk where there was an open book. Dad pointed at something, and I heard Samuel say “Sons of Adam” out loud. At that time, Bridget called after me, so I ran out to the backyard. I recalled the episode so vividly because of the look on their faces. I didn’t get it then, but it was one of the few times I`d seen Dad scared.

Now, if I could only remember what the book looked like. I went to stand in the same spot I was standing in all those years ago. It seemed wrong somehow. I thought about it and lowered myself to the height I was at that age. I closed my eyes and envisioned the sounds and smells of that day. The door was open in summer, and I could hear Bridget laughing. There was a smell of food in the air, Mom and Sarah, Bridget`s mom, were making lunch. Then came the smell of Dad`s cigar over that; in my mind, I peeked out from the door and saw the two men leaning over the desk. Dad smiled at Samuel in response to something he said, but they both became severe.

“I hope it doesn’t happen in our lifetime, nor our kids. We must prepare anyway; the signs are too many to ignore.”

Samuel nodded, “Show me the passage again?” Dad pointed down at the page; the book was greyish, ancient. Not big, more like one of the children`s books I had in my room.

I opened my eyes, and I was back. With the vision fresh in mind, I walked over to the shelf. There weren’t that many books that size. I started on the top left corner and worked my way down. The dust stood from the top books, untouched for some years. Many books were so old I could hardly make out the title, most in old English or Latin, a few in Arabic, some in ancient Norse language. Once again, I was reminded of my loss. Mom and Dad would never teach me to read all these dead languages. I was nearly at the end when I spotted something that could be it. It was hard to determine the size; the book was lying, probably due to old age. There wasn’t any title on the front- I dragged it carefully out off the shelf. The book was darker than I remembered, with a cracked and weathered cover. A small inscription appeared on the second page when I opened the fragile pages. I squinted to make out the letters.

“The Children of Seth-The Prophecies”

I could almost feel the energy radiating from the book. What did I know about Seth? If it was the biblical Seth, he was the third son of Adam and Eve. That was the thing that had struck me, the name ADAMSON. It was a long leap, but I`d felt a nudge that told me I was onto something. Seth was born to Eve after Kain killed Abel to replace her loss. I learned some of this history by working in the garden with Mum. I had asked her about the Garden of Eden- if our garden was as beautiful as the legendary Garden. Lilith brought the love for growing things and passed it on to her children. Seth was known for many things; he was the forefather to Noah, to mention one of them. I walked to Dad`s reading chair and sat with the old book.

The beginning was a tale about how Eve took her son, Seth, with her back to the gates of Eden. On the way there, Seth was attacked by a furious wild beast. He chased away the beast and survived, though injured. When they reached the Garden, Michael, the archangel, stood guard, but Eve begged him for some oil from the Tree of Mercy. Michael refused but promised they would receive some at “the End of Time.” The end of time means “when all flesh raises up, the delights of Paradise will be given to the righteous people, and God will be in their midst.” Quite the drama-queen, this Michael. When Eve and Seth returned to Adam, he was angry. He yelled to Eve, “What hast thou done? Thou hast brought upon us great wrath, which is Death.”

Why did Adam get so mad? It almost seemed like a piece of the tale was missing since it ended there. The following pages were a family tree, starting with Adam and Eve. Seth was a productive man; he married his sister, and they had 33 sons and 23 daughters.

We didn’t like Adam that much, being descendants of Lilith. He was a pariah in our tales, like the rogue uncle you didn’t talk about. I didn’t know much about Eve other than the stories from the Bible. Mom used to tell us stories from all the different religions, showing us that we were all the same. Many reports have the exact origin; we all make it our own.

I had to take my time reading; the words were small and written in archaic English. Maybe I could scan the pages and transfer them to my computer to get the letters bigger? I put the book away gently and decided to do just that after dinner. As I put together an omelet, I pondered the connection between the Adamsons and the book, besides the obvious with the name. It was a bit farfetched to think they were descendants of Adam. Or was it? Could it be so simple? I wondered why I hadn’t heard anything about that before, but my education in the history of our craft had been put on hold when my parents died, and after that, I had concentrated on the craft itself. Then why was it called “The Children of Seth” and not the Children of Adam? What was the significance of Seth, and why did the book open with that specific tale? The omelet went cold as I thought about too many things, but I ate it all. Usually, my kitchen was an oasis of serenity, but now I could feel the ghosts of my parents linger. They had been on my mind so much these last couple of days, and I felt a pang in my heart, the sorrow finding a way out. I stopped before the memories of my brother popped up as well; I didn’t want to go there tonight.

The book lay untouched the rest of the night. Instead, I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.

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