March 1970 - Page 27

Carolyn and Jeb are married.  If only I had come down the stairs sooner...but what could I have done? Certainly Jeb wouldn't have let me stop the ceremony.  He's smug.  As it was I bit my tongue on what I would have liked to have said and toasted the couple and wished them well. As far as Carolyn, my wishes were heartfelt, but empty, for how can they find any happiness? One look at Liz's face when the couple wasn't looking was enough to tell me that she's no happier than I am with Carolyn's choice and is only doing what she can to keep from alienating her daughter. She asked me if I was “very surprised”. Stunned would be closer to my feelings.  He is a monster not a man.  How could Carolyn marry him?  

But then she isn’t the first woman at Collinwood to fall in love with something not quite human. 

Megan has to be stopped. We discussed...argued...about it most of the way from the OH to Collinwood. The ease with which Rumson was able to say her name and betray where she once rested frightens B, and it should for it shows she's careless and bound to be caught sooner or later. And bound to betray Barnabas. He wants to kill her, but I talked him into at least offering her the injections. It would be the kind thing to do, and although I didn't mention it to B and raise his hopes, it's crossed my mind that by studying her blood, I might just find a cure for him. We were almost at the front door, when he stopped and pulled a box from his pocket. "I had Willie pick this up for you. Protection." Inside the box was a silver cross on a heavy silver chain. He looked away as I put it on and as it slipped down between my blouse and my skin, I could feel the heat of it. It warms my heart that he should worry about me, but he brushed my thanks aside.

I went with Liz, back to the carriage house. It was a relief to talk of fabrics and paint, and everyday mundane things. Only one room was destroyed and it gave me little satisfaction to see how completely. 

While we were gone, B took the opportunity to look for Megan's coffin. Rumson was certain that it's in the East Wing, but he couldn't find it. I'm more worried about Barnabas than ever. His curse has taken an odd turn and I fear for his sanity. He has told me the strangest tale of finding a room that changes and stranger yet, that Liz and I were in the room. I assured him that we were not even in the house. He insists that they are not delusions, not that I hinted at such.

For the sake of B's sanity, I went with him to the room in the East Wing. The room is nothing to look at, dusty and dirty, and smelling of old wood and mouse, but the way it felt. I can't explain, but the minute we stood in the doorway, I just knew that something bad would happen there. I walked in and nothing happened, and although I tried to shrug it off, the feeling stayed with me.

As B talked about the room I tried to see myself there, living this other life, and then I remembered something. Last spring I was at Eliot’s and over our after dinner brandy we had discussed time.  Something that was on both our minds with Barnabas lost in the past.  He was complaining that we all just accept time. I argued that we had little choice, but he told me of a theory he read about, in fact considering it was Eliot, a theory he was quite passionate about. It sounded insane. He called it parallel time. All our choices little and big all exist…all the roads we thought we hadn’t taken…somewhere another us was living it.

Another life, what ifs...I thought then that evening with Eliot, and I think now of the decision that made the most difference in my life, the decision to become a doctor instead of marry and have children. I don’t know what possessed me to tell Barnabas, but it was worth the way he reacted.  Perhaps it was surprise, for in his day few women would have chosen a career over a home and family, or maybe it was because of jealousy. I hadn't thought of Jack, not for a long time. Maybe I wouldn't have thought about him at all if I hadn't seen his picture in the papers not long ago, he and his wife and three children, all smiles. She is not unlike me to look at. Would I have been happy in that other life? I am almost glad that I'll never know.

At least our sojourn into the east wing gave us a chance to offer Megan help, but she has no desire to regain her humanity. She revels in her life as a predator. If it wasn’t for the cross that I wore, and Barnabas at my side, I should have feared for my life, for that same aura of hunger that Megan emits was the one I had felt so often from Tom.

Barnabas feels guilty about Megan, and now his guilt has been added to.  Roger. Talked of Megan. Barnabas is right, she must die.  I’m not happy about it, but it must be done. We walked back to the OH, B and I.  I’ve told B that I can’t do it.  I don’t have the strength or I would, for to watch Willie struggle with what he must do hurts me.  If only we could trust Sky.

Barnabas wanted to walk me through the woods, protect me from Megan on my way back to Collinwood.  But I wanted time to think.  I’m worried about his visions in the east wing.  Are they real, and what can they mean?  The silver cross I wear is warm when I’m with Barnabas, a constant reminder of what he is, and that he himself gave me the cross.  I don’t know what possessed me to bring it out and show it to him, other than that he refused to take any thanks for it.  He didn’t cringe, only looked at me, not it.  My protection, but not from him.  I need no protection from him.  The knowledge of how deeply he cares makes me smug. How naïve I was so long ago to offer my neck up to him to drink from. Even though I care for him, I'm not so sure I could make that offer again. 

I tried to find out about the East Wing, but Liz is certain there are no legends about that part of the house. "Remarkably free of secrets", she said. As though family history tells all its secrets.

Barnabas has said the magic word to drive away any doubt in my mind that what he sees in the room is real. Angelique. I'm glad that he can't find a way into this other time, I hope he never does, but my premonition...and the room seems to draw him. Only that he found Megan's coffin, and that dawn was near, kept me from arguing my point.

It's over. Megan is destroyed. While Barnabas lay in his coffin, I stiffened Willie's backbone. The fact that Barnabas expected it to be done by the time he rose, seemed to be incentive for it to be finished. Willie took the mallet and stake, and I wanted to cringe from the look in his eyes. Roger couldn't be reasoned with. Megan had grown more careful too late. Willie had to fight him away from the coffin, which maybe a good thing, his anger, or perhaps adrenalin, making it easier for Willie to kill, even the undead. 

When Barnabas rose we were able to give him the good news. We finished our work, covering every trace of Megan, coffin, body, clothes...and most of the truth. We will tell the world that Megan has left Collinsport. She has. Forever.

Roger doesn't remember anything about Megan. I told him that he had bumped on the head, and that's why he remembered nothing of coming to the east wing. He seemed somewhat relieved to have an excuse not to remember. I don’t understand why it is that some can forget, and I can’t. Why is it that some, Roger, Carolyn, Joe, can forget or push the memory into the dark corners of a shadowy nightmare and yet I have such complete and total memories of Tom? Perhaps their innocence, their disbelief in vampires protected them in the end.

I was waiting for Barnabas when he rose.  I still wear the cross next to my skin. I only wish I could give him something that would protect him.  I’ve felt the room, felt the evil in it. He’s going there to see it again. He says it draws him and somehow I know it will have him.  

(Episodes 969-972)