The Curse of Thelonious [✓]

fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Oh my God!” Atlas whispered, more to himself than the girl in front of him, his body trembling with realisation. How could he not have known?

Lera just stared at him in confusion, not knowing he was having such a massive epiphany. “What’s wrong?” she asked, baffled. The two of them had woken up early the following day and gone to Clearford’s local library to look through the newspaper archives. As it was such a small boring town, anything worth telling would definitely be recorded in the local newspaper and preserved in the library.

Lera had decided to look for the article about Colette’s death as the only real clue they had was this entire thing had something to do with Atlas’s mother. But the moment she had found it, Atlas had froze, almost boring holes into the picture of his mother with his eyes.

“That’s her!” he whispered, for a change not even caring if anyone was around to hear him speak. The small library was empty however and they were at the very back, hidden behind rickety bookshelves. “That’s the woman in my dreams!”

Lera gaped at him. “The person you’re dreaming of, who warned you about all the deaths is your mother?!” she asked, completely shocked at what he had realised.

She analysed the smiling picture of Colette Wakelin, comparing her face to Atlas. Although her hair was a bright copper colour and her eyes large and blue, she could see a slight resemblance in her son. They had the same shape nose, similarly arched eyebrows and those perfect dimples that she secretly adored.

"I don't understand," Atlas said, his deep voice cracking slightly in the middle as he too stared at the picture. It was still difficult to make himself to talk when he'd been forced into silence his whole life. "Why? Why would she help me?"

Lera’s eyes widened and she almost spluttered in incredulity. "Because she's your mum!" she exclaimed, her voice unintentionally loud against the stark stillness of the library. She lowered it slightly to ensure the kind librarian wouldn't overhear the commotion and come to see what was going on. "She obviously wants to help you because she loves you!" 

Atlas stared at her, the disbelief evident on his face and Lera felt her heart break for him: he'd spent his entire existence never being shown an ounce of love that he could barely grasp the concept now. 

"So her– her ghost or something is trying to help me now?" He muttered, shuddering at the word ghost as he pushed Lera’s words to the back of his mind. He didn't want to face that and instead focused on the meaning of his mother appearing in his dreams.

Lera pushed back a curl that had fallen in front of her forehead and pursed her lips, deep in thought. "Well, maybe," she began, not knowing how to word it in case he would take offence to the idea. "Maybe she somehow activated the curse in the first place? I mean, she was warning you of the name Walho which turned out was Wakelin, her own name. Perhaps it's some family thing?"

Atlas sighed, his knees giving way as he fell back against the eggshell white wall behind him. He rubbed his temples and answered her, voice shrouded by confusion. "Maybe. That guy in the shop did say it's inside me, maybe it was part of her too?"

"And maybe when she died it latched onto you instead?"

He lifted his head, somehow feeling as though she was right. With a weary hand he grabbed hold of the newspaper article from her to study the grainy picture more. His mother was beaming at him, her auburn hair neatly flowing down against her shoulders and her wide eyes sparkling in happiness, so unlike his own. "How are we gonna figure out how to stop this before more people are killed? How are we gonna get it out of me?!" he whispered to himself, the hopelessness evident by the way his body was slumped. He tilted his head slightly to the side as he studied Lera until she squirmed under his calculating gaze. "The Kevon guy said you're the answer, you're the one that can get rid of evil. That's what he said!"