Corrie Taylor, the Crone of Lake Cowichan sprayed a fine mist of water over her shrubs. Even though her Azaleas, Lilacs and Rhodos were no longer in bloom, she knew that she needed to take extra care of her recently planted garden until the roots were good and established. The early morning chore gave her time to be by herself, ground her energy in nature and try to make sense of what had happened to her grand-daughter yesterday afternoon.
Why would an old lady feel threatened enough by Layla to psychically attack her? Was this a case of a whacked out old lady overly protective of her cat, or was there more to this?
God I hope I don’t become a creepy old cat lady when I get into my dotage. No that probably won’t happen to me, it’s more likely I’ll turn into the crazy old bird lady with bats in my belfry to boot! That gave the Crone a chuckle.
Still, why the psychic attack, and why was she so sure Layla was out to steal her cat? Her grand-daughter made it sound like the women thought she was part of some sort of conspiracy. Maybe her cat was one of those rare breeds and cost a lot of money. The Crone had heard of rare and exotic animals being stolen before. It could be as simple as that, but it still didn’t explain how an old women had the ability and the power to attack Layla the way she did. That was the really troubling part.
Thankfully Corrie was able to help Layla clear her energy so she was fine, but if her grand-daughter had not had a strong protective aura around her from all the energy work they had done so far this summer, who knows how the encounter could have effected her. The crone shudder to think what damage could have been done if the old lady had attack someone with out any training.
Then again, maybe the biddy sensed Layla’s strength and natural talents and that is why she felt threatened in the first place. In that case, the old lady attacked on purpose.
Many people are energy suckers or psychic vampires as they are sometimes called with out even knowing they are. Their energies are weak due to poor self- esteem, life trauma, or they just have a personality that seeks to take from others. They unwittingly draw off others to fortify their own energy fields. Everyone has encountered a person that leaves them feeling drained after being with them for a time. That’s because they actually have been drained!
If the strike had been on purpose, then that means this old women is powerful and psychically talented in her own right. She could be a very dangerous person. Maybe a practitioner of the dark arts.
Corrie’s intuition radar was going berserk. Who was this women?
Corrie and her grand-daughter decided to spend the afternoon in retail therapy so they drove the 30 minutes to the city of Duncan to shop. After hours of browsing, spending and an early dinner, they pulled into the driveway of Crone Cottage, Corries home and dream come true, weighed down with bags of food, clothes and decadent treats. The retail therapy obviously a success.
It wasn’t until the duo got out of the jeep, loaded up their arms with bags and rounded up to the front door that they spotted the snow-white feline with one green eye and one blue sitting primly on the front mat. Celo.
“That’s the cat grandma, that’s Celo!”, Layla exclaimed. “How on earth did it find me?”
As the Crone was unlocking the door, Celo weaved in and out of Layla’s legs, purring, happy to see her. The cat followed them into the house as if it was invited then continued after Corrie’s grand-daughter to her room where he patiently waited for the teenager to drop off her bags and pick him up.
Layla brought Celo back down stairs to the kitchen where her grandmother was unloading groceries. “What are we going to do? I’m too freaked to go back to that crazy ladies place to bring him back.”, the teenager stated. “This is so weird, why did he come here?”
Celo snuggled into Layla’s arms content in his surrounding. Layla absently stroked his luxurious fur coat as a bond between them began to form. Corrie needed to nip this quickly before the situation became more complicated than necessary.
“I’ll take him back and explain what happened to his owner, you can wait here. Maybe Jack can come with me as back up”, the Crone then added to try and lighten the mood, “That way if she threatens me, I have a witness and a lawyer!”
Celo was not impressed to be closed in a box and made his protest known in the form of a low growling sound all the way back to his home two kilometres away. Jack drove Corrie’s jeep as Corrie kept watch.
“Do you know what Celo means in Latin?”, Jack asked. “It means secret.”
“How do you know that?”‘ the Crone replied.
“I took Latin in university thinking it would help me understand legal jargon, I didn’t find much call for it in my practice thought, not many Latin speaking criminals anymore”, he smirked.
“Hardee har har”, Corrie retorted. “That is interesting though, Layla said that the old lady accused her of trying to steal her secret. At least that explains what her secret is.”
The jeep pulled over to the side of the road parallel to the white picket fence that surrounds the old ladies home. It was a quaint older style house. Three stories, with steps up to the front landing and door on the main floor, it had a full upper level but only part of the basement was exposed above ground. The house was also painted white but the multi paned wooden windows where trimmed in black and the front door was painted a china red with brass handle and a half round window with a waning moon, a full moon, and a waxing moon etched into the glass and a pentagram in the circle of the full moon. The moons are the symbol of the triple goddess, maiden, mother and crone. The pentagram in the circle meant for protection.
Corrie’s intuition radar was buzzing off the charts. This women knows her stuff she thought, she had obviously warded her home against someone or something. Corrie wanted out of here as fast as possible.
Grabbing the box that held Celo, Jack came around the vehicle and joined Corrie at the gate. “Looks pretty quite to me”, her neighbour said. “Wonder if she is home.”
“Well there’s no time like the present”, Corrie pulled her mental big girl panties up, gathered her courage, opened the gate and walked confidently up the steps to the front door, Jack following close behind. She could feel his presence and was happy for his support because the closer she got to the door, the more uneasy she felt as her fortitude began to rapidly fade. Her true desire was to put the box that held the cat down, knock loudly on the door, turn and run like hell, but her responsible side wouldn’t let her do that.
She did knock hard and loud on the door, maybe too hard though because the door became unlatched and swung open with a slow whining creak. Corrie and Jack looked at each other with surprise. “What do we do now?”, the Crone whispered to her neighbour. “I don’t like this Jack , do we call out, do we walk in, maybe we should just close the door and come back later?”
Jack frowned, put the box down, took one step into the house and called out, “Hello, is anyone home?” Seconds ticked by, again he called out, even louder this time, “Hello, hello, is anybody home?”
No one answered.
“Jack, let’s just go, this is creeping me out, I’ve got a bad feeling and I always pay attention to my feelings. I think we should just call the police and have them bring back the dam cat.”
Jack ignored Corrie’s pleas and took a couple of more steps into the house, he leaned is body forward and peeked around the corner of an opening that most likely went into the living room, “Hello, is any……..”, Jack abruptly stopped, his body going rigid his face turning gray. He brought up his hand to block the Crone from coming any further, “Corrie, I think you’re right, we need to call the police.”
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