Subj: Charade: Chapter 15
Date: 11/23/01 3:51:49 PM Central Standard Time
From: Nicole

December 8, 2008, Collinwood, 7:00 PM-Normal Time

"I swear that we didn't mean anything by it!" cried Gwynneth. Her hurried tears were not sincere, but, for now, they would suffice. She hated confrontation but avoidance would not help her now. She and William sat on the bed in her room. In front of them stood their mother, father, and Julia. Apparently mother had something to talk to their godmother about later. At the moment, Gwynneth could care less. She did not understand why they were being lectured. In her mind, they had done nothing wrong. "Besides, William was the one who made him wet his pants, not me!"

"You started it, Gwyn!" yelled the tired boy. "I wouldn't have . . ."

"But you both carried it through and you both lied to Kelene about what happened," added their father sadly. Gwynneth could tell that he did not like doing this, but she could also see that he felt it was something that had to be done. Being an adult must be heinous. "I just want to know why you did it?"

Gwynneth looked over to William and shrugged. He nodded and looked back up to the adults. "We probably did it because we could."

Their father moaned and fell back into his chair. He looked over angrily to the twins and asked, "When can you stop doing that? Just because you can do something doesn't mean that you should go ahead and do it."

"God Quentin, I didn't expect you to take this so seriously," said Julia.

Their mother giggled lightly before murmuring, "Well, he's had a bit of a run in with their unorthodox practices."

As her mother began telling Julia about the little incident, Gwynneth turned her eyes to William. He too was grinning. As Constance whispered the story to Julia, Gwynneth ran the details over in her mind for what felt like the millionth time. Fortunately, this story never grew old to her.

Earlier in the year, Gwynneth and William experienced problems with their transition between life at home to like at school. These problems did not stem from their academic performance but from their inability to get along with the other students. They seemed to forget that the other children did not humor their psychic games as much as everyone else they knew. Then again, practically everyone else they knew possessed some sort of ability that set them apart from most humans. Those people saw no harm in a little telepathy between friends. The children at school, however, possessed little to no paranormal ability and the twins' behavior greatly disturbed their fragile worlds. After teachers and parents began to complain, the principal stepped in and requested a meeting with their parents. Since Constance had just left the country days before, Quentin was the official parent at the meeting.

Around this time, Gwynneth began having dreams in which a matronly woman visited her. This woman would tell Gwynneth stories about her father, stories that she somehow knew to be true. The woman in her dreams had apparently known her father when he was very young. They had not been close, but she knew more about her father than anyone she had met in the flesh. This woman claimed that there were things that she still needed to say to him. She wanted Gwynneth to help her to achieve this goal and the child knew the perfect place for this reunion.

Gwynneth had been surprised by the resemblance between her principal and the woman in her dreams, but the women looked alike. She decided that the best way for the woman to talk to her father would be if she possessed the principal during the meeting. What would the principal tell her father that he did not already know? If Gwynneth was going to have to spend an extra hour at school, she was going to have some fun. All she needed was an accomplice.

Gwynneth talked to William days before the meeting, telling her brother about her dreams and informing him of her plan. William, conveniently, had been having similar dreams and he too had seen the resemblance between the woman and their principal. He, however, was a step ahead of her. William had skimmed through at least a dozen books, searching for some sort of potion to aid in the possession. He had found one in a book on magic that had just the spell they needed. Over the weekend, they picked the needed flora and tore the petals into small pieces. Late Monday night, they boiled water and let the pieces soak until they turned to green and purple sludge. The twins waited until the water cooled to pour it into a half-filled bottle of liquid hand soap. Before they finally went to sleep, they went over their silent chant to make sure that they had it memorized. The next day would be a big day. Nothing could go wrong.

They placed the soap in their father's bathroom. He would have the potion on his hands and he would, albeit unknowingly, transport it to the meeting. He would pass it onto the principal when he shook hands with her. Their father, or anyone he happened to touch, would feel no adverse effects from the potion because of two reasons: the chant had the specific woman in mind and the woman had no urge to possess their father.

The moment their father saw the principal, he let out a small groan. "What's wrong?" Gwynneth had asked.

He leaned in over her and whispered, "I don't know what to make of it, but I swear that woman looks like my sister Judith."

Gwynneth had barely contained her laughter as William grabbed their father's hand. "Well, sometimes looks are deceiving," he murmured calmly. William sounded as calm and collected as he ever would. He was normally not good with mischief. He kept a better poker face than Gwynneth had imagined.

When they walked into the office, the principal immediately rose from her seat and shook their father's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Collins," she purred. "It's just a shame that it had to be under such circumstances."

"I understand and I'm sure that we'll be able to come to some sort of agreement on the twins' behavior."

The adults nodded and took their seats. Gwynneth and William took seats on either side of their father. They cast wicked glances behind his back before looking forward. Gwynneth relaxed herself and stared at the woman. She knew that she would not look obtrusive; she knew that she looked attentive. But in her mind she kept repeating the words:

"I call upon you, the keeper of darkness
To release Judith Collins . . .
Allow her to inhabit this form before me . . .
Allow her to speak her truth so that she might return to you, O keeper
of darkness, and do your will . . . "

Gwynneth looked up to the woman. She could see a distinct change in her. She now looked confused, frightened. But she was fighting the call. Gwynneth looked over to William, who had also noticed the battle going on inside the woman's mind. Their father seemed oblivious as he talked on, rattling off a list of things he and their mother had done to attempt to control the twins' behavior. William cast a worried glance up at their father, and when the man refused to stop talking, Will looked back to Gwynneth and nodded. She could hear her brother's internal monologue; he was repeating the chant quicker, louder, and bolder. Gwynneth followed his lead. She shut her eyes tightly and began to repeat the chant. She continued to do this until she heard her father say, "Mam, are you all right? If you don't mind me saying so, you don't look well."

Gwynneth looked at the principal and she saw the change. The look on the woman's face had changed. She looked more smug than before, more knowing. The possession was a success. The woman groaned and placed her head in her right hand. "I was waiting for you to shut up, Quentin. Admittedly, I would never call you the silent type, but that speech was long . . . even for you. It almost encroached on Edward territory. Since when did you begin to think of anyone other than yourself, brother?"

Their father could not speak. He only stared at this woman, either marveling at the transformation or completely flabbergasted by what had happened. He covered his face with both hands and, with surprising calm, asked, "What the hell is happening?"

"What do you think, Quentin? After all, you are the most versed in the black arts amongst us."

He looked out over his fingertips, his eyes darting between the children at his sides. He brought his hands closer to his face and sniffed. "You put something in the soap, didn't you?" Both Gwynneth and William mumbled a strained affirmative. He took his hands from his face and quaintly placed them in his lap. Their father cleared his throat and said, "Neither of you can fathom how much trouble you are in for this stunt."

"You shouldn't chastize them," said Judith. She leaned back in the chair and laughed, her eyes never wavering from her brother. "You would have pulled a similar stunt--or worse!--had you had their abilities. You were quite the mischief maker."

"And you were quite the snitch. I couldn't go a day without hearing, ‘Quentin, one more outburst like that and I'll tell father/Edward/grandma-ma what you're doing.' You were so consistent, sister mine. One could keep time based on the sound of your heels clicking down the hall to my room or the stairs to the foyer as you went to threaten me."

"Apparently the threats didn't work. You never stopped."

"You gave me little choice," snapped their father. "It either was bend to your will or follow my own. God, you and Edward did your best to dominate Carl and I. Carl let you and look what became of him. He was nothing more than an adult child. I wouldn't be Carl. I wouldn't let you supplant your desire onto my own!"

"I didn't realize that you preferred to dwell on wine, women, and song more than issues that really matter."

"And tell me, dear Judith, what really mattered in our lives and times? Was I supposed to dwell on the family business? Was I supposed to have stayed home to offer my life up to Edith in the vain hope that she would leave me the family fortune?"

"It worked for me," said Judith, who could barely contain the smile plastered across her lips.

Gwynneth was shocked by the way her father laughed at the statement. There was something devious, something malicious in his voice. It was like nothing Gwynneth was used to hearing spring from between his lips. "That shows how much you know, Judith. Do you know that the will had actually been in her coffin? I had Jamison take it and I was going to have Sandor forge a new one that made me the heir. Apparently Barnabas stopped him and had him forge the one that you found, the will that made you mistress of Collinwood."

Judith's smile instantly vanished. She sat back up in the chair and asked, "Who was really supposed to be the heir?"

"Edward," snarled Quentin. He shuddered a moment and fell back into his chair, shutting his eyes from a seemingly horrid memory. When he opened his eyes again, a derogatory smirk sprung across his lips. "And in truth, we were kicked out of the house. Well, we weren't kicked out, but Edward had the right to say who would and who would not live at Collinwood. You do remember how much Edward loved his family . . . or at least its name. So yes, we were kicked out of the house with little to no money. How would we have survived? I know I could have sold my body and made more than a profitable living form doing so. What would you have done?"

Judith's face fell through and she hissed at her brother. "Spare me, Quentin! You have never been as street wise as you think . . . or for that matter, as pretty as you seem to believe."

That remark sent their father off on a rant, which spurred the Judith possessed principal to match his rant with one of her own. Gwynneth looked over to William and immediately noticed his unease. They had created a monster and neither of them knew how to slay it. "Um . . . Aunt Judith . . . maybe you shouldn't argue with father. I mean, if it didn't work before, why would it work now?"

Her father looked down on her, and for a moment, his face softened to something she recognized and loved. "Gwyn hon," he cooed, "this is the way Judith and I talk. It's not pretty and it's not nice, but it's the only way we know to deal with one another. Do you understand, sweetheart?" Gwynneth reluctantly nodded. Her father smiled and turned back to the possessed principal. "Where were we?"

"I'm not sure, Mr. Collins. I remember you saying something about the way your significant other and yourself were attempting to manage the twins' ‘gifts' but I think I blacked out for a moment."

The three Collinses stared at the woman in disbelief. Judith had left the principal without any of them feeling her leave. Their father glanced cautiously at the twins and eased himself back into the seat. "Um . . . I was saying that I understand your point of view. I've thought about it for quite some time, and I think I know what their problem is. I'm going to take them home now and the three of us (possibly four because Constance might have made it home by now) and we will discuss what has happened."

The principal furrowed her brows at him in confusion. "I don't understand you, Mr. Collins," she said. "A moment ago you were saying that we were overreacting . . . "

"But had you listened to everything I had said, you would have heard me say that the twins can act out of control from time to time and that they definitely need to be disciplined. I'll do that . . . at home." With that, her father rose to his feet and ushered the twins from their seats. As he kept a tight hold on the twins' hands, he said, "I appreciate your concern but we're leaving now. Thank you and good evening."

"And when they got back," said their mother, her eyes glancing alternately between her lover, her children, and Julia, "he told me all of that, and I swear to you that he was shaking. They had really freaked him out!"

Julia looked over at their father and asked, "Was it really that frightening?"

"They set up their principal to be possessed by my sister! It wasn't frightening; it was bizarre. For 30 minutes, that poor woman was Judith Collins. That's horrible enough in itself. But the fact that my children made that possible completely bothers me."

"I'm sorry," murmured Gwynneth. She looked down at her hands, attempting to resummon the tears so that she could look up at him with glistening eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you father."

"No one's hurt, Gwyn, but you can't just do something like that because you feel like it."

"Normally I don't feel like doing stuff like that," said William sadly, "but Aunt Judith seemed nice. I wanted to help her."

Gwynneth watched as her father shuddered. "Now that's why I hate what happened. She manipulated my children! She helped hide the first two and now she plays with these two's feelings. God, I hope it's all over because I don't feel like facing down my family."

Gwynneth started to say that she thought that Aunt Judith had completely left this world. She had said what she had to say to her wayward brother. She now had nothing left to do in this world. Gwynneth remained quiet instead. She had forgotten about what had happened to her half-siblings and the toll those events continued to take on her father. Saying anything more might tear open on old wound. Instead of speaking, she leapt from the bed and ran to her father, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek in an attempt to show her guilt. He seemed to appreciate her show of affection and took her into his arms. "You worry me," he murmured into her hair.

"How?"

"You're mischievous. You're a bit wild. You are so much like me that it frightens me."

"I don't mean to scare you," cried Gwynneth. She was surprised by how quickly the real tears began to flow. Maybe it was a childish dream to believe that your parents did not scare, but Gwynneth had held onto that dream all her short life. Why was he crushing it? "What can I do to not scare you?"

Her father pulled her away from him and motioned for William to join them. He placed one hand on each of their shoulders and said, "I want you both to promise me never to go near the east wing. I know how ridiculous that might sound, but I would sleep better knowing that neither of you are in danger. It's just one thing, but it means a lot to me."

Gwynneth glanced back to her mother and asked, "Do you agree with him?"

"Wholeheartedly," she replied. She walked up behind her lover and put her hand on his shoulder. "Listen to your father. The east wing is one of the most dangerous areas of this house. You both need to promise us that you won't go there. I think Julia agrees with us."

"Yes," sighed Julia. "You would only bring trouble on yourselves if you went to the east wing."

William looked around the room and said, "I agree never to go to the east wing."

‘Easy enough for him to say . . . he never wanted to go there anyway,' thought Gwynneth. As much as she longed to go to the east wing, she dared not voice that desire in this room. Both of her parents looked so worried. What had they seen that in that area that made them so afraid? "All right," she murmured, "I promise never to go to the east wing."

Both parents sighed. Their father wrapped them both in his arms and joyously hugged them for their decision. Their mother joined in from the other side. Gwynneth could hear her murmuring "Thank god. Thank god." Gwynneth could only moan quietly and take this punishment as possible. The east wing was begging her to visit. Why was everyone against her doing so? She knew that she would have to be more careful from now on. She had promised them that she would never go to that end of the house. She would have to let them believe that was true if she was ever going to get along with her parents. But why did they have to make getting along so unbearable! Did they not know that only the forbidden treats were the once that every child longed to have? As extraordinary as Gwynneth could seem, she was only a child with a child's yearnings. She would just have to learn to ignore them for the good of the family. Gwynneth's only problem was that she did not believe that she could.

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.