Chapter 8: Unexpected Connections

The Spring Break at Coleridge was later than in most schools — the second week of April. I took a break from playing with the Grimoire and visited my parents. What was normally an hour and half drive took over two this time.

"How are you, Mitch? Are you eating enough? You look thin," my mother said.

"He looks good. I am glad he's not going all stout, like some professors. Looks like you are exercising," my father said with approval.

"You didn't call very often over the last quarter. I hope you are getting over Caroline," mother said.

Caroline? With everything going on I haven't thought of her in weeks. "I am fine, Mom. I got over Caroline. I've just been very busy with the classes, the seminar, and all the publications. I've also been working on licensing some of my software."

I decided not to mention anything about my encounter with the knife. My wound healed with a thin almost invisible scar, and the story was far too local to be picked up here. I didn't want to upset mother, who still worried for her only son, and probably always would.

"The lunch will be ready in 30 minutes. Go unpack and wash up."

I went upstairs to my bedroom. It was the same one where I lived until I was fifteen, and on and off since.

During lunch, I described the string concert I went to. "If you ever have a chance to see them, you should! The music is beyond my ability to describe. The entire audience was mesmerized."

"Sounds wonderful, Mitch. Such a pity you didn't care for the piano lessons."

"Mom, it's been twenty years since your last attempt. I think it's time you gave up on me becoming a pianist," I said with a grin.

"By the way, do we have any stories in our families of witches or seers?"

"What a curious thing to ask! No, I don't think so. As far as I recall, all of my ancestors were solid craftsmen or homemakers. Not a witch among them. Why the question?"

"Well, I've been reading an old journal recently. It's more than 150 years old. The stories say the author had some special vision that allowed him to find buried sites. I was wondering if there were any such legends in my family."

"I never heard of any. But Aunt Susie is the genealogy nut in our family. You should ask her."

"Really? Where is she now? I think I will give her a call."

My great aunt Susie was retired, and was perfectly happy to have me visit the next day for tea and genealogy. I was curious if my ability to see plasm was inherited. If so, unless I was the initial mutation, there should be stories.

Aunt Susie indeed had details about my ancestors. Despite being related only on my father's side — she was my grandfather's sister — she gathered information on mother's ancestors. I guess once you catch the genealogy bug, you don't stop tracing until you reach Adam and Eve.

I was quickly overwhelmed by the information Aunt Susie had. It was contained in notebooks, loose papers, scrapbooks, and most of all, in her prodigious memory. Maybe if I could find an enhancement spell for my memory I could remember it, but as it is I needed some system. I ended up thanking her and promising to come back better organized later.

"Did you find enough family tree information, Mitch?" My mother was smiling, probably knowing just how much Aunt Susie could talk about our relatives and ancestors.

"Too much for my poor memory, Mom. I need to write it down. I'll probably use a spreadsheet. I promised to visit her again tomorrow. I need to get my laptop out and figure out some columns. Actually I should probably look on the Web to see if there are free genealogy programs an utter amateur can use."

"Looks like you are serious about it. Why don't you look in the book cabinet in the basement? It has all the disks we got over the years? But first, you better come and help me prepare dinner."

Mother didn't actually need much help — although I did some fetching and some cleaning. She mainly wanted to hear about my life, and especially about any prospective romance.

"No, Mom, no new girlfriend. I am not seriously looking."

"Are you still upset about Caroline? I must say, she behaved most inconsiderately."

"No, I got over her. She had her own life to live, and after all we hadn't made any commitments. I wasn't happy when she left, but it's all water under the bridge."

"So, there must be nice girls at Coleridge?"

"Lots of very pretty ones, Mom. Now that the weather is nice I sometimes don't know whether to look right or left while on campus. Good scenery all around! Alas, almost all of them are students and not girlfriend material."

"Well, I guess looking is okay, but be careful, Mitch. Are there any nice girls who are instructors?"

"Not in my department, Mom. It's a pretty large department, but all the women are either much older, or are happily — I think — married. There is one older student who likes to flirt with me. I enjoy the flirting, but I keep it at arms distance. I think she probably enjoys the flirting and teasing, rather than looking for a relationship; I think she's taking a bunch of classes."