The Journals (11)
Date: 10/27/98
From: barnster

'April 24 1967. Have met Cousin Roger. Just as before, he has a familiar face, but the wrong name. But there is a weakness about him that my father never had. Perhaps this is just as well. No one must know. No one must EVER know! Accept perhaps…my dear Josette. Now that I have found her gain, things will be different. She will be mine, and nothing will stop me this time.'

'April 25 1967. My plans are working perfectly. Have succeeded in commissioning my portrait, by Mr. Evans, 'Josette's ' father in this new world. Elizabeth has granted my request to live the old house, as it is now known. Soon, my Josette and I will be as one.'

'May 4 1967. Willie has betrayed me, the little fool! He thought he could warn Maggie's friends, and to think that I would not find out! He will learn in time! I will make him!'

*****

Barnabas frowned. The next few pages had been torn out. His father had obviously had plans for his mother, long before they were married. He'd been determined to re-create her as Josette.

His frowned deepened, as he dredged his mind, to connect what he was reading. It had been a long time, since his encounter with Diabolos. It had all started with dreams, he remembered that much. That's how he's learned the real truth about his father.

But this! It was the writings of a madman! He supposed being chained in a coffin, for almost two hundred years, had been pretty rough. The agony his father must have suffered…he tried not to think of that.

The memory of the time he had killed Daniel's rat came rushing back to him. At the time he hadn't really understood, why he had did what he had. Only that it was his father's fault, or so he'd thought. He remembered that he'd promised to get even with her. But his father had stood guard over her, while she slept. As dawn had approached, he had silently crept from the room, and he thought he had had his chances. Only a small gold crucifix had stopped him, from harming her. So he had turned on Mighty Mouse.

He returned his attention back to the journal. The next entry was for June 19.

'June 19 1967. There is a strange woman at Collinwood. She says she's a historian, and that she is interested in the family history. Yet, there is something about her that I don't trust. Vicki has settled any doubts, about my selection, as the next Josette. She fits the mould perfectly! This time, things will be different. The mistakes that happened with Miss Evans will not be repeated. Willie as the little girl, as has David. Could it be..? No, I refuse to believe that it's Sarah! '

There were no further entries until 21 June.

'June 21 1967. Miss Hoffman, the so-called family historian, is a doctor! She has fooled everyone! And worst of all, I am discovered! And yet--- she offers me hope. She believes that she can cure me. CAN I be cured? Is it possible? Is there daylight at the end of this tunnel of eternal night? There are conditions, to this however. Maggie Evans is still alive. To ensure my continued survival, she must be silenced. Permanently! But this doctor who presumes to give me orders, is convinced that she will say nothing. I wonder. Dare I trust this woman? Dare I?'

As Barnabas continued to read, his eyes grew heavy, the words swimming in and out of focus. Until finally, he's eyelids drooped, and he fell into a light sleep.

(barnabas, baranabas)

(Who's there?)

(You know who I am, barnabas. Remember. Remember your dream.)

(Mother, is that you? Mother?)

(Look to the recent past, and you will see. He loves you, barnabas. Forgive him. Barnabas, barnabas, barn-)

With a start, he awoke to find himself still on the sofa, his lithe form, glistening damply.

"Mother?" he whispered into the darkness, as the remnant's of his dream fading, along with the voice that had called his name.

"Cin, that you?" he asked, still not sure if it were his mother's voice or Cindy that were calling him.

He rubbed his eyes, and reached for the glass of water, he'd brought with him. His eyes widened in surprise.

On the table, the last of his father's journal's stood open. But he'd left it closed, he was certain!

Puzzled and curious, he picked it up, and leafed through it. The writing that had once been so clear had faded, into almost obscurity.

He checked the other two journals, and they were the same, including the part that had been written in 1795.

He frowned, what was going on? He looked at the third journal, the last date he could just about read, was for 15 May 85. Then that would have been just before his mother and Lucas had died!

'15 May 1985. Julia is still unable to effect a cure, for the mysterious virus that has taken hold of Maggie and Lucas. Julia says that with time, she will find the answer, but the look in her eyes, tells me, that that may not be enough. After all that has happened, will I still lose my dear wife and son? Will Angelique and her damned curse, strike from the furthest reaches of Hell, to punish me again? Please, let them live!'

Barnabas stared at the entry, numbed. And ashamed. His father had said all along, that Julia had tried desperately to find the cure to the virus that had claimed them. Including Daniel and Sarah, as well as himself.

Again, the memory of the events that had happened eight years ago sprang to mind. He remembered that his mother had been upset, at his father's 'business trip.' And that the man who was staying there, was a friend of his. He had suspected that this wasn't the truth. He might have been eleven, but he had eyes! She hated him, of that he was sure.

Then it came to him abruptly. Angelique! He HAD met her!

She'd been in his father's study. He'd burst in, not expecting her to be there. He remembered the way his father had stood next to him almost protectively. And she had seemed quite astonished to see him. Taking a double take at the two of them. He had noticed that his father had seemed paler than usual, and perhaps a little scared.

He remembered that he had been anger with her, at her gasp of 'he looks like you, Barnabas!' of which he had grown to resent. He still did.

It had been shortly after that; his father had become ill. Then he hadn't known about the vampire curse, but now it made sense, when his mother forbid any of them to go near the attic.
Then he suddenly recovered, and his mother said he'd left Collinsport. It was then that this Nicholas came to stay. He'd hated Nicholas from the beginning, and the feeling had been mutual.

He'd stayed for two months, and by the time his father returned, everyone was grateful. His mother especially, and Julia.

But within weeks of his return, Lucas and his mother were stricken with a mysterious illness, from which they never recovered.

He rose from the sofa and strode over to the window. He felt such an idiot! All these years he had blamed Julia for their deaths. And perhaps it had been Nicholas and Angelique, all along, as his father had suspected. He supposed they'd never really find out.

(barnabas, barnabas, barnabas)

He whirled around, to stare around the room. Empty, except for himself and the darkness.

(You must learn the truth, barnabas, do not fail him.)

"Mother?" he whispered into the darkness again.

(do not fail him, barnabas. learn before its too late)

(Learn what?)

(the journal holds the key. Quickly! Before its too late, do not fail him….again.)

He looked out the window, once more. Dawn was still along way off. Then at the journal he still held in his hands.

"All right, Mother," he whispered, and the incessant calling of his name, ceased.

He wondered back to the sofa, and opened the journal to the next date. Which after a gap of almost three years, had been Christmas '87.

'December 27 1987. Yet another Christmas has come and past without Maggie. Though it grieves me, that she is no longer here, to see Barnabas Jr and the twins grow. As for my dear Lucas, what cruel twist of fate has deemed that he will never know another Christmas, or the love of two brothers and a dear sister? Or the love of a mother and father. Or family friend. Julia has been here constantly, though why she persists, when she knows that I do not want her here. Or is it? I find I look forward to her coming. Seeing her now, is like…what?
Perhaps the year ahead, will help me make sense of all this, and how I can help my son. Though he remains silent, I know Barnabas misses Maggie as much as I do, perhaps more. I know the pain, the death of a mother can bring to a son. At least, I was more able to understand, why she died. He is just a child, and I feel his pain, much more than he will ever realise.'

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.