The porch creaked heavy under his feet as he made his way to the door of the old log cabin. Moonlight streamed through a hole in the porch roof, bathing the door in a soft shimmering glow. He paused for a moment with his hand on the knob as he marveled at the way the light caressed his hand. Then with a sigh he pushed open the door and entered.

Standing at the threshold of the cabin he gazed lovingly as the memories returned in the moonlight. Everything still as it had been all those years ago, as if waiting for him to return and resume his life. For a moment he allowed the soft sounds of the swamp and gentle glow of the moonlight to cast their spell on him. The memories returning like so many warm touches of a lovers' kiss. Then with as sigh of contentment and resignation he shook his head to clear the spell and struck a match.

The light burst forth from the match blinding him for a moment with its brilliance. Then as he touched it to the candle a warm dancing glow began to fill the room. Moving slowly around the room he touched one candle after another, allowing the light to reach out its golden fingers to the corners of the room and chase away the shadows from their familiar haunts. Finally he stood in the center of the cabin and once again surveyed his surroundings.

A slow smile slide across his face as he looked for the first time, in many years, on his old home. Everywhere he looked reminders of that time so long ago came to him. There by the fireplace was still the old rocking chair waiting to once again sway to the beat of its owner; and there were his books and the desk, still as they had been, with so many secrets waiting to be unlocked. Sighing again, yes the desk, that was the reason he had finally come back. It must hold the answers that I seek. But I will get to the shortly, I want to enjoy this moment for now.

Again the lullaby of the swamp drifted into the cabin as he sat down in the old rocking chair and looked out at the cabin. A gentle sound of laughter seemed to creep up then. Closing his eyes, he knew that sound, the memories came to him softly and sweetly as he gently rocked back and forth.

The light of the fireplace glowed warmly behind her head, as if to give her the halo she so deserved. For she was truly an angel, queen of the angels, or perhaps queen of the fairies (of which she was so fond). Either way he knew that she was his queen for he most truly loved her. It was with heartbreak slowness that he watched as she danced before him to her own rhythm, warmed by the fire and happiness as she twirled and laughed. Her warm rich fragrance enveloped him as she twirled around behind him and placed her arms around his neck, allowing her hair to cascade around them. Drawing in a deep breath heady with her warmth and perfume he felt he could never be this happy again. As if she knew what he was thinking a deep contented sigh came from her and she slid around him and sank into his arms, meeting his lips with her own.

Something warm and wet fell upon his lips then, but it was not his lovers lips. Reaching up to his lips he found that a tear lay upon them, and knew that he was alone. He could still smell her upon his skin and feel her silken hair caress his cheek, but it was all just a memory now. With a wistful sigh, he heaved himself out of the chair and walked to toward his families ancestral desk.

The strong wooden desk had been with his family for so many generations that its origins were lost. It was as much a part of the family as an physical member and had always been treated with the utmost respect. For the one thing that had remained in his family's memory was that this desk was special. It had a power that seemed to emanate from it and when you touched it you could almost feel it breathing with you. So many memories of his childhood involved with trying to unlock the many secrets of this wooden treasure, and yet he never could, for with each new discovery came yet another mystery. In the end he had simply accepted it for the treasure and mystery it was and taken on its inheritance when the time had come. For it was tradition to pass it on to the one who would be the head of the family, as he had become that sad summer day when he father disappeared into the swamps.

Reaching out reverently, he gently caressed the deep rich wood of the desktop. A shiver ran through him as he felt again that ever present vibration of something like life move into his fingertips. Faint though it was with each passing stroke he could feel it coming to him stronger and more powerfully. It was almost as though it was coming awake after so long a sleep in the quiet of the swamp. A clearness of mind came over him and he knew that he was welcomed home then.

Sitting down at the desk, Jack reached over to the top drawer and began to slide it open, taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself to his task. He had to find out the truth once and for all. He had to know what was hidden in the desk and he had to know why it was hidden. This is the only way that I can go on he thought, the only way that I can get my life in order and get her back. As he bent his head to look down into the drawer, panic over came him and he slammed it shut again. Doubts and questions suddenly assailed him. What am I doing? Do I know for sure what I'm looking for? Do I really want to know what is in there? What if... what if what was in there was worse then you can ever imagine? NO! I have to know... I can't live this lie anymore and I have to know what it is that my past is hiding from me. I can't pretend that I don't care and that it hasn't effected everything about me and my life. But what if it drives you mad like the rest? What if... what if you end up like you father? What if the curse is true?

Slamming his fist on the table in frustration, Jack let out a ragged sigh. I've run from this moment for 15 years, I'm tired of running. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired! He then lowered his head to the desktop and closed his eyes. I don't know why this is happening. I don't pretend to understand any of this, when I was a boy it all seemed so magical and wonderful. What happened to all of that? Where did it go? I was so happy once, we were all so happy once. Why did it have to end?

Tears fell in a steady stream to the desk, pooling around his face and splashing back onto his eyes in a never ending cycle. My life has been a never ending cycle of denial and sorrow he thought. Anger began to well up in him them. And its all you fault he breathed into the desk. You, you are the cause of all this pain and sorrow. Your dark secrets and brilliant inspirations have been the cause of so much heartache and pain to those who deserved nothing but joy and happiness. WHY? As his tears burned dry with anger and hatred, so too did they on the desk. As if it was pulling the pain and agony into it, as if it were feeding off the tears of his pain. Sitting up, Jack forced himself to reach out again to the desk and open the drawer, I will not stop this time. I will have answers and that is final!!

With that last thought he yanked open the drawer and looked down. Suddenly laughter sprang out of him. WHAT? I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! ITS EMPTY?!? Staring down into the drawer all he saw was the wooden bottom looking back up at him. I can't believe this ... all this and it's empty. Closing the draw he looked into the next and then the next, nothing! Stunned he sat back. There is nothing here? All this time I believed the answer was in the desk, but there is nothing? Nothing at all!

Exhausted and frustrated, Jack got up and moved away from the desk. To tired to make the long trip back into town, he decided simply to crawl into his old bed and sleep. the edges of the room seemed almost alive with shadowy memories. Shades and shadows be damned I'm too tired, he thought, and with that fell asleep.

(c) March 6, 1998. Brooke Mayfair