Subj: Quentin in 1795, chapter 4
Date: 3/5/00 8:51:08 PM Central Standard Time
From: Beverly LaCroix
Chapter 4
Sarah; Quentin's Enlightenment
Hello," Quentin said, startled, adjusting his bedclothing.
"Who are you?" the little girl asked.
"I'm a stranger. Didn't your parents ever teach you not to speak to strangers?" Quentin asked perturbed.
"You talk funny." the little girl said, and giggled.
"Uh-oh," Quentin mumbled. I gotta watch what I say he thought to himself. He sat up, noting the headache had almost diminished by now, and looked at the little girl. She looked familiar, interrupting his thoughts, she said, "what's the matter? You're screwing your face up all funny?"
"Didn't your parents" -- Quentin caught himself that time -- "What's your name?" Quentin asked, ignoring her questions.
"Sarah." she answered.
"Sarah who?" Quentin replied.
"Sarah Collins." she answered him.
"Well, pretty Sarah Collins, I'm Quentin Collins." he said extending his hand. "Glad to meet you, Miss Collins."
Sarah shook his hand, and giggled, and said, "you're funny." Sarah looked at him, long and hard to see if he were making fun of her, and she determined he wasn't, she fell in love with him. "You're Barnabas' sister?" Quentin asked, knowing the answer. Something about her tugged at his memory, he knew her. But that was impossible, how could he know her.
"Yes." she answered, looking at him funny.
"Now, Miss Sarah Collins, why are you looking at me like that?" Quentin asked her playfully.
"You looked like you were far away, not really here." Sarah said studying him.
"Now, you're being silly, aren't you? You know that's not possible if I'm here." Quentin answered her.
"You're teasing me like I'm a baby. Just like all the others," she said petulantly.
He just looked at her, trying to figure out what to say, but the memory of her from another time kept tugging, and it was a dark memory.
"I'm sorry, Sarah," Quentin finally said.
"Well, I'm not a baby. I have a grown-up secret.
Can you keep a secret, Cousin Quentin?"
"Yes, I can keep a secret. And how do you know I'm your cousin." Quentin asked.
"My father said so." Sarah answered him.
"What is your secret, Sarah?" Quentin asked her, because right now he wanted to get this bothersome child out of his room. And if by indulging her, listening to a childish secret, crossing his heart and swearing to die would do it, then he would do it.
"You can never tell. I'm not sure what it means, but I don't think my brother would like it." Sarah whispered, closer to him by now.
"Okay, Sarah, I promise." Quentin said in a conspiratorial tone.
"I saw my Uncle Jeremiah kissing Josette on the lips for a long time." Sarah said very seriously.
Quentin was all attention now, and he looked at Sarah in a very different light.
"Sarah, never repeat that to anyone, do you understand me?" Quentin said harshly.
"Is it bad?" Sarah asked, startled by the change in Quentin's tone.
He had to be very careful the way he worded his answer, "I don't think your Uncle Jeremiah or Josette would do anything to hurt your brother, but it might be misunderstood. It could cause a lot of people to be sad. You understand that, don't you, Sarah?" Quentin finally answered.
"Yes, I think so." Sarah replied.
"Now, cross your heart and hope to die that you will never never tell anyone what you told me?" Quentin said sternly.
"I promise, and cross my heart and hope to die if I do." Sarah said solemnly.
"That's a good girl," Quentin replied, tousling her hair.
Quentin closed his eyes, knowing Sarah was still at his bedside watching him, but the darkness was taking him, pulling him back to a place he had forgotten. It was death. And he could hear voices, fragments of sentences, " a beautiful, dark and powerful force lives behind those walls" were the whispers he heard in the ghostly world of Collinwood.
It had taken almost a decade for him to realize they were talking about him. He had been quite amused, much in the same way he had been when alive, when taunting Edward. It amused him that anyone thought him a powerful force, when he realized it was the ghosts of the past. He remembered Beth, Beth had shot him, and he remembered the suffocating darkness overtaking him. He had raged against it, but it had all been in vain, there was no one to hear him. He was trapped. Trapped in a darkness he was powerless to escape, until he had started hearing the voices. They were the voices of the restless ghosts of Collinwood. He had learned that it was him they had wanted to keep prisoner. But where was he? And why was his spirit trapped in the darkness?
It wasn't long after he was able to hear the voices, he gained the ability to smell, and he knew where he was. Underneath the muskiness of times, he could smell the familiar scents of his rooms. That had given him a small comfort, but not enough. He needed to see, see the voices he could hear, and couldn't shut out. He heard a woman, sobbing, hurting, pain-filled sobs. He didn't recognize her voice, but he wanted to comfort her, but couldn't. The ability to speak wasn't within his reach either.
Then it stopped, all the whispers, sobbing, insane laughter, and he saw a little girl. Her clothes were old, and he didn't know who she was, but she stayed with him, and he gained the ability to see into the physical world, and he could feel his power, dark power growing. The little girl was Sarah! That's how he knew her, there was more, but the memory was slipping away, and he opened his eyes, and she was still standing, looking at him. He was ready to say something when he heard a familiar voice.
"Sarah!" a voice called, and his door opened.
"Vicki." Quentin whispered, as he struggled to open his eyes. He had been jerked out of the swirling vortex of his ghostly future, and his head was beginning to throb again. But there was something he had to do. He needed to find Jeremiah.