Soul Inheritance by Honey A. Hutson Page A

in her own, felt their presence slipping along on dark streets.
    She rushed from the car to the door, locked it behind her, leaned against it.
    “ What do I do? How do I end this, Dad?”
    Going to the kitchen she fixed a sandwich, poured some tea, and then headed upstairs. It was time to visit this heritage – her lake. She packed several bags, threw the book in on top and placed them by the door. Returning to her father’s room she curled up with pillows that smelled like him, and studied the people in the old pictures. There were some that were not as old as the rest. Late fifties perhaps, of her father as a boy and a woman she did not know. This had to be her aunt. She stared long and hard at them, memorizing their faces and features, fascinated by the past that she had not realized existed.
    “ I must’ve known. I mean, everyone has grandparents after all. I just never knew there were things left over from the fire. I just assumed that everything went with them.” She thought of the house. Was it really still there? Had they not died in a house fire like she had been led to believe?
    Eventually she fell asleep and dreamed of the lake, the woods, the house. This time, however, she did not go to the house, but wandered the shores exploring, watching, learning the layout.
    It was damp and musty in the forest around the lake. Katherine did not know how long she wandered there; only that it was cool, quiet and strangely comforting. It was as if she had come home. A dark, foreboding home, but protective, too. It wrapped around her like a blanket, enveloping, sheltering, hiding her in its endless folds. The lake had a different feel. It felt empty; the malevolence receded leaving a benign peacefulness. The water lapped gently nearby, the breeze was gentle, if a little cool. The scent of forest and water and earth was strong. From the decay of leaves sprung life eternal in the grand old trees whose limbs swayed in an unheard rhythm, and the saplings that joined in at the edges where the sunlight could reach them. It was late afternoon this time, and the dappled light gave a luminescence to this new world. Somewhere in the distance a bell tolled and Katherine stood stiffly and listened to it beckon.
    The alarm clock rang loudly. She tumbled from sleep, tangling the covers first around her, then pulling them over her head. The buzz only grew louder until she crawled over and turned it off. She lay still, listening to the silence. The house was so still. Nothing stirred. There was nothing to stir.
    She sat up on the edge of the bed, looked down at her feet, rubbed her swollen eyes. The lamp was still burning. Reaching over she turned it off, took a deep breath, then went to shower. Without looking into the mirror she brushed her teeth, then went to the den and dressed in the plain black dress she’d laid out the night before. She surveyed herself in the mirror. She looked almost gaunt, pale and her eyes sunken. Collecting makeup and a brush she did her best to cover the wraith-like appearance, gathered the photo that she had set aside to take and headed down stairs.
    Katherine loaded her luggage in the car, then went back inside, checked to see that the water and lights were off and that the heat was turned down. Standing in the foyer she took a long look around. The home she had known was gone forever. It was time to go.
    Pulling the door shut, she checked to see that it was locked. She stood by the Jeep, stared at her father’s home. It seemed empty now, even though everything was still there and in its place. There was movement at the bedroom window. She caught a glimpse of a face, only a fleeting glance. Whatever it was it wasn’t her father. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the car, started the engine and drove away.
    There were not many people at the funeral home. Some of her father’s business associates, the manager that handled things, and a few faces she didn’t recognize. They all sat quietly as she