Post by StoryGirl83 on Aug 28, 2008 19:19:46 GMT -5
Chapter Seven - Calling in Reinforcements
Several minutes later Wyatt’s blue Mustang pulled up in front of the Halliwell manor. The car stopped and the doors opened. Prue, Pat, and Melinda climbed out of the back while Andy helped Vicki climb out of the middle of the front.
“Dad, I can get out on my own,” Vicki informed him teasingly.
Andy dropped his hands, though he was smiling. “Alright then, Sweetheart.”
Wyatt climbed out of the driver’s seat. “Do you remember where everything was when you first got your powers, Aunt Prue?” Though still unfamiliar, the name was becoming easier on his tongue.
“Vaguely,” Prue admitted. “It’s been about twenty-eight years.
“Well, chances are everything is still there,” Wyatt informed her. “Mom likes things organized.
“Sounds like Mom,” Melinda retorted.
Wyatt looked at her. That’s right, she’s Mom and Dad’s from this other reality. What does that make her to me? My sister? Weird. Without audible comment he headed toward the house.
The others followed him up the steps.
Just inside the manor the answering machine sat on a small end table blinking. The door opened allowing Wyatt followed by the other five into the building. Wyatt saw the blinking answering machine and pushed the button as Prue shut the door behind them.
“You have one new message,” the answering machine informed them. “Message one. Six-fifty-five PM, Saturday.”
The voice on the answering machine changed to that of Wyatt’s aunt, Paige Samantha Matthews-Mitchell as the message began. “Hi, Piper. It’s Paige. I just called the restaurant, but Drinka said you hadn’t arrived yet. We’re running kind of late. The elders decided they needed Hank for something.”
At the name Hank Prue’s eyes widened. Is it the same boy our Paige lost so many years ago, or just someone with the same name? And if he’s the same boy then how do they handle his powers?
While Prue thought of the little boy her sister had lost at the young age of four in her reality, or former reality as it was appearing, Paige’s message continued. “I’m not sure whether I should be just annoyed or if I have reason for concern. What do they want with my teenage son? Oh, we also have the minor problem of Janice needing to change, but that we’ll fix soon.”
This time it was Vicki who frowned at the machine.
Having recorded this several minutes before Paige continued unfettered. “We will probably not get out of this house until seven-thirty. Sorry, but I’ll see you there.”
Paige’s message complete the machine beeped and announced, “No new messages.”
“Janice?” Vicki whispered, a memory from one of her latest dreams filling her mind. “That name was in my dream.” It wouldn’t be so weird except in the dream Janice had been the name of a girl who had been Aunt Paige’s daughter. That wouldn’t be so weird either . . . except Aunt Paige, her Aunt Paige, had no daughters, only the one son, long dead.
“What’s that?” Pat asked, hearing her sister, but not understanding the words, they were so softly spoken.
“I’m not sure,” Vicki admitted. “Something I have to think on.”
Wyatt didn’t notice the whispered conversation between the sisters. “I think I’m going to call Aunt Paige,” he announced, “see if I can catch her before she leaves.” Looking at Prue, he added, “If you want you can head on up to the attic. I’ll meet you up there in a short while.”
“Mind if I stay down here?” Vicki asked, looking at him.
Wyatt shook his head. “That’s fine, I guess.” He picked up the corded phone next to the answering machine and dialed a number as behind him Prue, Andy, Pat, Vicki, and Melinda all headed into the front room.
On the other end, Alanna Samantha Mitchell stopped short as the phone rang. She glances across the room at where her twin sister, Janice Patricia Mitchell, was busy cleaning off her clothes. The clothes had been covered with food earlier when their younger brother, Hank, had been startled by something. Alanna picked up the phone without bothering to look at the picture ID. “Hi, you’ve reached the Matthew-Mitchell residence. How may I direct your call?”
Wyatt smiled. “Hi, Alanna. It’s Wyatt.”
Alanna looked at the phone surprised. “Hey, how come you’re calling? Are you at Aunt Piper’s restaurant?” She looked at the picture ID and saw that the call was coming from the manor.
“Something came up,” Wyatt admitted. “Is your mom available?”
“Sure,” Alanna told him as she walked out of the room in search of her mother. “I’ll get her,” she started, but spotting her mother she laughed, “never mind. Found her. Here.” She held out the phone and hand it to her mom.
“What?” Paige asked her daughter before taking the phone and putting it to her ear. “Who is this?”
Wyatt smiled at the sound of a familiar voice. “Hi, Aunt Paige. It’s Wyatt.”
“I called to explain that we were running late,” Paige reminded him.
“I know,” Wyatt admitted. “I just listened to the message. Something came up. We need you at the manor.”
“First Hank,” Paige mumbled. “Now this. What’s going on?”
“It’s not really something I think I can explain over the phone, but we need as much help as possible and we have less than a day before we are out of time.”
“A day is a long time,” Paige told him, surprised that he would sound so concerned with so much time.
“Trust me,” Wyatt assured her, “we don’t want to waste any of it.”
“All of us,” Paige asked, deciding to humor him, “or just me?”
Wyatt smiled. “As many of you that will come, even Uncle Henry.”
“Weird,” Paige commented with raised eyebrows. “Not too dangerous I take it. Let me tell Henry where I’m headed and I’ll bring Alanna with me. Janice still isn’t ready to go and Hank’s not back.”
“Thanks, Aunt Paige,” Wyatt grinned as he added, “See you soon.” He hung up the phone and walked into the front room. Inside he at first thought it was empty, then he noticed Vicki standing by the window. “Is everyone else upstairs?”
“Headed that way,” Vicki agreed.
Wyatt looked at her curiously. “Sure you don’t want to join us?”
“I’m sure,” she confirmed. He was about half way up the stairs before she spoke, again. “It’s more colorful, somehow.”
Wyatt stopped and looked at her confused. “What?”
How do I explain? Vicki thought as she looked at him. “I haven’t been here much,” she paused searching for the right words, “in my reality, I mean, but the manor just somehow seems more colorful, like someone turned up the lights and brightened the colors.” She shook her head. “You must think I’m silly.”
Wyatt hesitated. “I don’t know. It does seem kind of odd that you would think the room brighter, but for all I know, maybe it is. The wallpaper could be different.”
“The same,” Vicki argued.
“Less faded, perhaps.”
“Perhaps,” Vicki conceded. “You really don’t mind me wandering around down here?”
“Not really,” Wyatt smiled. “The things that could get someone in trouble are upstairs.”
“Yeah,” Vicki smiled. “I know about those things. Pat and I were forbidden to mess with them. It was just too risky if we were caught. We had more freedom with magic then Mel did though.”
“Oh?” Wyatt queried.
Vicki nodded. “The source of the witch hunts, Pratt, lived in San Francisco, which is where Mel lived. We lived nowhere near there.”
“We’ll have to teach you some magic then,” Wyatt offered, before remembering that there was a very real possibility that she wouldn’t be around long enough for him to teach her anything.
“Oh, I know some magic,” Vicki informed him. “I saw it in my dreams.”
Wyatt smiled. “Hate to disappoint you, but dreams aren’t real.”
“Mom said it was my power,” Vicki told him, “though she didn’t understand what it was. I’m beginning to think that my dreams where showing me here.”
“Here?” Wyatt queried confused. “As in at the manor?”
“No,” Vicki informed him. “This reality. I don’t know for sure though.”
Wyatt looked at her for several seconds, wondering what exactly she saw in her dreams. “I’m going to head upstairs. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
Vicki smiled as Wyatt headed up the stairs, once more. Once he was out of sight she looked around and sat down in one of the arm chairs. Please, please, let this work.