The Amulet (2 page)

She watched, almost hypnotically, as a
well-meaning relative wandered over to where she was sitting on her
swing. It was a warm summer’s day and the sun shone in a cloudless
blue sky. Birds were taking a bath in the little birdbath her
mother had lovingly erected at some point in the past. She stared
at the birds for a moment remembering all the times she had sat
with her mother and watched as they splashed around in the water.
Her mother loved the birds. In fact, her mother loved all of nature
and had passed that love down to Faedra.

“Hi, Faedra,” Uncle Leo announced as he
approached the swing.

She turned her attention to him for a moment.
Uncle Leo was her father’s brother and her favorite uncle. He
didn’t look that dissimilar from her father, especially, as they
were both wearing a black suit that day, although he was a couple
of years younger. He also had kind eyes, a warm hazel-brown, and
tousled dark blonde hair. He was not quite as tall as her father,
but about the same build. He kneeled down in front of her and took
hold of her hands.

“Hey, Uncle Leo,” she said quietly.

“What are you doing out here all by
yourself?”

“I’m watching the birds in Mummy’s birdbath,
see,” she pointed towards the birds still splashing water over
their backs with their wings. “They love Mummy’s birdbath. Mummy
and I used to sit and watch the birds for ages.” Her voice cracked
as the truth was starting to sink in that she would never again sit
with her mother to watch the birds.

“She’s not ever coming back, is she?”

“No, darling, I’m afraid she’s not.”

Big fat tears started to escape from Faedra’s
eyes and rolled down her cheeks to splash on her dress.

“Why not? Why does she want to be in heaven
with the angels? Doesn’t Mummy know we love her more?”

Leo wrapped his arms around his little niece,
using all his self-control to fight the tears that were welling up
in his eyes, also. He had loved Lillith like his very own sister
and was desperately sad to have lost her, too, but even more so, to
see the pain that his brother and niece were now suffering at their
loss.

“It’s not fair, Uncle Leo,” Faedra cried. “I
want her back.”

“I know, sweetheart. We all do, but we have
to be strong now.”

Leo held onto his sobbing niece, smoothing
her hair with his hand.

I would never have imagined in a million
years how hard this moment would be
, he thought.

He had no words to take Faedra’s pain away.
Nothing he could say would comfort the little girl he loved so
much, so he just held her for several minutes and let her sob into
his shoulder.

“Leo,” Henry called from the back door, “I
need your help in here for a moment.”

“I’ll be there in a minute, Henry,” Leo
called back.

Leo pulled back from Faedra, gently loosening
her grip, and looked into the reddened, tear soaked eyes of his
little niece.

“Your daddy needs me, Faedra, I’ll be back in
just a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” she sniffed. “Uncle Leo?”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

Leo planted a kiss on her forehead and
straightened himself up. Faedra watched as he turned and headed
towards the house before she returned her attention to the birdbath
once again. A moment passed, and the birdbath became blurry behind
the tears that began to well up in her eyes and roll down her
cheeks. She wasn’t sure at this point if she would ever be able to
stop them. Something cold and wet touching her hand distracted her.
It made her jump and she pulled her hand away sharply. She wiped
the tears from her eyes with the heel of her hands so she could see
with more clarity what she had just felt.

When Faedra looked down, two molten amber
eyes greeted her. This time their owner was not human. In fact,
they belonged to a big white dog that was sitting in front of her.
She looked around perplexed to see if she could see to whom the dog
belonged. There was no one around, other than the people in the
house, and she doubted that any of them would have brought a dog to
a funeral.

Her home was a very old English country
cottage located in the heart of Norfolk. You had to drive down a
tiny country lane and then onto an even narrower long, dirt
driveway to get to it. It wasn’t the type of place you went without
a purpose. Fields on three sides and a thick stand of trees at the
back with a little stream meandering its way through it, surrounded
the cottage. No wonder her mother loved it here. You couldn’t be
much closer to nature if you tried. Maybe the dog had come from the
woods at the back, she was certain she hadn’t seen him coming from
any other direction, not that she had been paying that much
attention.

“Hey, boy,” she said, stroking the dog on the
top of its head. “Where did you come from?”

The dog whimpered and laid his head on her
knee, not once taking his eyes from hers. She was overcome by an
overwhelming sense of comfort as she stared into its soft amber
eyes. It was almost as if he could sense that she was in pain and
wanted very much to take that pain away from her. Even as the
thought entered her mind, the dog sat upright again and licked the
tears from her face. She responded by throwing her arms around him
and burying her face in his soft white fur. She wasn’t quite sure
how long she’d been hugging the dog until she heard a familiar
voice.

“Faedra?”

She reluctantly pulled away from the dog and
looked up into the worried eyes of her father.

“Yes, Daddy?”

Her father ran his hand through his hair and
looked at his daughter. He was overwhelmed by how she looked like a
miniature version of her mother. Every time he looked at her, he
could see Lillith. The same beautiful, bright blue eyes with dark
lashes that went on forever, and thick curly red hair that tumbled
half way down her back. He felt blessed to have the two most
beautiful women in his life. He missed Faedra’s mother with an ache
so fierce he thought his heart would shrivel up and die. But was
thankful he still had his beautiful daughter and vowed to do his
very best to keep her safe.

“Where did he come from?” he asked, looking
at the great white dog standing next to his daughter in a way Henry
could swear was protective.

“I don’t know, Daddy. He just turned up.
Isn’t he beautiful?”

“Yes, he certainly is. He looks like a Great
White Pyrenees.”

Henry checked his thoughts. Usually he would
have been very unnerved seeing a dog the same size as his daughter
in such a close proximity to her, but, like Faedra, all he felt was
a sense of comfort.

“Can I keep him, Daddy?”

Henry’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t expecting
that question.

“Well…” he paused.

“Please, Daddy.”

Henry knew the moment he looked into his
daughter’s pleading eyes that he was defeated. He also knew the dog
could not replace her mother, but, if this dog could give her just
one ounce of comfort, then it would be a welcome addition to their
family. Right at that moment, gazing deep into his little girl’s
eyes that were so full of pain, he would have given her anything to
ease it.

“Okay, you can keep him.”

“Oh, thank you, Daddy! Do you hear that boy?
You can stay with me!”

Henry watched the dog wag its tail as Faedra
threw her arms around him and, again, bury her face in his fur.

“What are you going to call him?” Henry
asked.

“Faen,” she declared without missing a beat.
The dog’s ear pricked up. He pulled away to look at her, and Faedra
thought she saw the dog smile, if it were possible for dogs to
smile. She didn’t know, but she didn’t linger on the thought, and
wrapped her arms around the giant dog’s neck once more.

“That’s an unusual name.”

“I know, but it suits him, doesn’t it?” she
said looking proud of herself.

“Whatever you say, darling. But if you keep
him, then you are responsible for taking him for walks and cleaning
up after him.”

“I will, Daddy. I promise.” She released Faen
from her grip. “Come on, Faen, I’ll show you my room. That’s where
you’re going to sleep from now on.”

Henry watched as Faedra lowered herself off
the swing and wandered towards the house, followed closely by Faen
wagging his enormous shaggy tail. Henry scratched his head at the
sight.

Present Day

Faedra pulled down the indicator lever on the
steering wheel to signal she was turning left. The soft tick-tick
noise it made instilled a sense of relief in her as she turned onto
the driveway that led to the cottage. She was home, and tomorrow
was Saturday. She only made it half way down the driveway before
her shaggy white dog came bounding up towards the car to greet
her.

She stopped her car and she smiled at him,
rolling her window down as he placed his giant front paws on the
car door and leaned his head in to plant a lolloping wet kiss on
her cheek. She laughed as she grabbed a thick handful of fur on
either side of his head and leaned her cheek against the side of
his face. This had become their daily ritual since Faedra had
started driving and gotten herself a job. She’d taken a year off
before she started college so she could get a job and save some
money. College didn’t come cheap these days. Her father had offered
to pay, but she didn’t want him to shoulder all of the cost on his
own.

“Hey, boy. Yes, I love you, too,” she
responded to another sloppy kiss.

She leaned over to the back door and pushed
it open from the inside.

“In you get,” she told him.

Faen wagged his tail voraciously and did as
Faedra asked. She pulled the door closed and carried on down the
driveway towards the cottage while Faen panted his hot breath in
her ear. Upon turning a sharp bend in the driveway, the cottage
came into view. She never tired of its beauty, or the warm feeling
it gave her just to look at it. The cottage was many hundreds of
years old and had been handed down through the family for
generations. Her dad had completed many restorative projects on it
since her mother inherited it before Faedra was born. This, in
itself, was a sad thing because that meant she had never known her
grandparents. They both died in a car accident before she was born.
After living with the pain of loosing her own mother, Faedra felt
full sympathy for what her mother must have gone through, losing
both her parents in one fell swoop. Although, her mother had been
much older than Faedra when it happened to her. She was already
married to her father, Henry, and pregnant with Faedra.

The cottage had cream walls with an array of
black oak beams that were exposed both on the outside and on the
inside. A beautiful climbing rose crept up the wall on a trellis
and was in full bloom, exhibiting an abundance of bright sunny
yellow petals. Her mother had planted it the year Faedra was born.
She had watched her father carefully tend the plant ever since.

Her father had also added a few more rooms on
the back of the cottage, making it twice the size of the original
dwelling. The living room, dining room, and two of the upstairs
bedrooms were original and they were Faedra’s favorite rooms. You
almost had to duck when you walked into the living room, the
ceilings were so low. People had been much smaller in stature when
the cottage was first built. But the living room was a complete
contrast to the dining room that Faedra had lovingly named ‘The
Great Hall’.

The dining room was a cavernous room with an
imposing brick fireplace at one end. A ceiling that towered two
stories high was handsomely finished with exposed black oak beams
running parallel to each other for the length of it. A staircase
ran up one side of the room to a door at the top that led to her
bedroom. She made sure she kept the front bedroom for herself, even
after her father had finished a beautiful new room for her towards
the back of the house. She had resisted, and with sensitivity,
declined. There was something about the history in the old section
of the house that she didn’t want to be parted from.

Faedra pulled her car in beside her father’s.
He worked from home; he had ever since her mother died. For that,
she felt blessed. His job enabled him to stay at home so she did
not have to be shipped off to a childcare provider every day. This
turn of events had also made them very close. She loved her father
with all her heart, and he felt the same about her. She smiled when
she saw the other car parked next to her father’s. It belonged to
her uncle Leo. He’d been an integral part of her upbringing, too,
and she always enjoyed seeing him when he came around to visit.

She opened the door to let Faen out and
reached in to grab her bag that had been thrown precariously on the
back seat when she left work earlier. Faen waited by her side until
she closed the door. He looked up at her and wagged his tail.

“Thank God that week is finished with,” she
told him. “I’m not sure I could’ve taken much more of Mr. Thompson.
I honestly don’t know why he’s got it in for me.”

Faen barked, as if agreeing with her.

“You know, boy, sometimes I could swear you
understand every word I say.”

She walked the few steps it took to reach the
front door, kicked off her shoes inside the front porch, and lifted
up the old-fashioned, black wrought iron latch on the door that led
into the living room. The latch made its familiar chinking sound, a
sound full of history and memories. It must have been lifted many
thousands of times over its history, sometimes to welcome people
in, and sometimes to bid them farewell. The memories it held
seemingly endless. The quickening of a heartbeat when someone,
patiently awaiting a loved one to return home, heard the latch
chink. The relief, when an unwelcome or irritating visitor exited.
Faedra’s memories of walking through this door had always been
happy ones, except for one solitary entrance, the day her mother
died. She knew it would never welcome her mum home again. She let
out a sigh.