Emily Prather (pastorsdaughter) wrote in oblivionrp, @ 2009-05-01 16:51:00 |
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Current mood: | scared |
Entry tags: | emily, emily and gregory, gregory |
Stargazing
Who: Emily and Gregory
When: Shortly before midnight
Where: Astraia and the Oracle (Emily's and Gregory's rooms)
Emily walked into her room and closed the door, then leaned back against the door and closed her eyes for a moment while she rested and gathered her thoughts. It had been a long, hard day, and she was scheduled to get up early in the morning to meet Katie for the door-to-door checks. Moving over to the sofa, she took a seat and removed her shoes and socks, and pulled out the list of names she had received at Sean's meeting earlier that evening. The list of people that she and Katie were supposed to check on was disturbingly short, and the meeting had not really gone that well in her opinion. She had blundered by suggesting that one of the staff members was involved in a cover-up, when there was no real basis for it, and Sean and some of the other passengers had called her on it. That's what she got for shooting off her mouth without thinking. But then Sean had made a statement that wasn't much short of an invitation to mutiny against the crew. She didn't think Sean had intended it that way, but his choice of words had been at least as bad as hers. Fortunately, no one seemed inclined to actually mutiny.
As she sat reviewing the list, she heard a knock on the door that adjoined her room to her father's. Without putting the list down, she jumped to her feet and opened the door. "Hi Daddy," she said. "I thought you'd be in bed by now."
"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Gregory said. "I thought I heard you come in, and just wanted to check on you. I know there have been a lot of disappearances, and I don't want you to be one of them. I was thinking we should leave the door between our rooms open tonight, so we can get to each other if anything happens." He glanced down at the sheets of paper Emily was holding. "You've been helping Sean with his investigation, I take it. Is it really as bad as I've heard?"
"That depends on what you've heard," Emily replied. "I can tell you this, though: it's not good. I volunteered to go door-to-door in the morning to check on people who responded to Sean's roll-call message. Some girl named Katie and I are supposed to check the passengers on this deck, and we have a list of people on this deck who responded. Aside from the two of us, Sean, Molly, and some girl staying with Molly, there are only four other people. In fact, we're the only ones left down this hallway."
Gregory frowned. "I hope that doesn't mean the voodoo priestess has disappeared. She seemed like a nice girl. I'll try to remember to check on her tomorrow."
Now it was Emily's turn to frown. "Voodoo priestess? What on Earth are you talking about?"
"The woman in the room next to yours. Zania's her name. I met her a couple of nights ago when she was casting a spell down in the lobby. Actually, I don't know if 'priestess' is the right word for her, but she practices voodoo. And Roman Catholicism, interestingly enough. I hope she's OK. She told me she likes me!"
Emily looked at Gregory like he'd just grown horns. Daddy was making friends with voodoo priestesses? That was too weird. "Okaaaayyyyy...well, there's no Zania on the list, but maybe she just didn't respond to Sean's message. I'll try to find out what I can." She paused a moment, and then switched to a different topic. "Daddy, I've got a question that may seem a little...strange. Have you been smelling cinnamon?"
Gregory gave his daughter a puzzled look. "Cinnamon? No, I haven't. Why do you ask?"
"I've been smelling it off and on this evening, but no one else seems to be smelling it. It smells just like those cinnamon rolls Mom used to make. I tried to find out where the smell was coming from, because it smelled good and I wanted to get some. But whenever I ask someone about it, they say they don't smell anything." She paused to let that sink in, and then said, "I can smell it right now. Can someone hallucinate a smell?"
Gregory frowned and rubbed his chin. "I'm sure a smell can be hallucinated, but I have another theory. But first, let me ask you a question. Do you hear any music?"
"What, you mean right now?" Emily asked. "No, just us talking and the sound of the waves outside. Why?"
"I do hear music. I've been hearing Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers for the last couple of days. And it's not like when you have a song running through your head over and over. I can actually hear it." Gregory paused for impact, then continued. "It's a song I associate with your mother. We always considered it 'our song'. And now you tell me you've been smelling cinnamon rolls like your mother used to make, but no one else smells it. Both of us experiencing 'hallucinations' of things we associate with your mother; I think it means her spirit is here with us."
Emily looked at her father incredulously. "Are you trying to say Mom's ghost is haunting us?"
Gregory shrugged. "Does it really seem so unlikely? After all, as Christians, we believe that the soul doesn't end with death. Is it so impossible that she's here with us in spirit?"
Emily considered that for a moment. "Maybe not, but do me a favor and keep that theory between you and me, OK?" she requested. The last thing she needed was a rumor going around the ship that her father had flipped out.
"OK, it'll be our little secret," he said as he gave her a smile before yawning. "I think I'm going to call it a night. Leave the door open?"
Emily returned his smile. "Sure, Daddy, we'll leave it open." She gave him a hug and said goodnight, and Gregory went back into his own room. She unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off, but left the Steelers jersey on; it was long enough to make a good nightshirt.
She started toward her bedroom, but stopped and looked at the exit to the balcony. Her curiosity was bothering her. A voodoo priestess? In the room next to mine? She walked over to the sliding door that led to the balcony and opened it. Stepping up to the balcony railing, she leaned forward, trying to get a look around the partition between her balcony and that of her alleged "voodoo priestess" neighbor. She knew chances were slim that she would see anything, but her curiosity was piqued, and she had to try. Holding the railing firmly, she went up on her tiptoes, trying to get a good view, but as expected, there was nothing to see.
Keeping her grip on the railing, she relaxed and leaned back. She looked up at the starlit sky. It was absolutely beautiful; Emily had never seen so many stars. Back in Pittsburgh, the glare of the city lights drowned out the glow of the fainter stars, leaving only the brightest visible. She tried to find the constellation Virgo, which was depicted on the ceiling of her bedroom in fiber-optic pinpoints. There was Orion, the "winter giant", easily recognized by the three stars that lined up to form his belt. And there was the big dipper; by following a straight line from the last two stars in that constellation, you could find the North Star, used for centuries by ocean-going men to find their way home...
A sudden realization hit Emily like a thunderbolt. She let out a loud gasp, and then stood there dumbfounded. Her father must have heard it, because within seconds he came plowing through the door, yelling "Emily! Are you alright?" She glanced back over her shoulder at him. He had spotted her on the balcony and was coming to join her.
"No, I don't think I am alright," she said, shivering as she spoke. As Gregory joined her on the balcony, she explained. "Remember how you taught me to find the constellations when I was a little girl?"
"Yes, of course I remember," he said. "But what's wrong? Maybe we should go inside and get away from this railing," he suggested. Gregory didn't know how people were disappearing from the ship, but falling over railings seemed like a likely possibility.
Emily pointed at the sky. "Look; there's the big dipper, right? Remember how you taught me to find the North Star? Well look where the two pointer stars are pointing: right at Orion's belt. I don't know how it's possible, but the stars aren't where they're supposed to be."
Gregory studied the sky; Emily was right. None of the constellations were where they were supposed to be in relation to each other. He stood there in dumbfounded silence.
Until then, Emily had been convinced that they would all be rescued soon, and that all the disappearances and other mysterious happenings had logical explanations. With a little investigation, the answers could be found. Now those convictions had shattered into a million pieces. A tear ran down Emily's face as she looked at her father. "Daddy, we're never going home, are we?"
"I don't know," was all he could think to say.