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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Fantasy · #1976324
I cannot for the life of me figure this website out.
Chapter Two:


“Turn left here… No, left!”

“Jesus Kylie, I’m turning left! Calm down, I know where the mall is.”

“Not that anyone would know it looking at you.” 

Bree snickered as I turned the wheel. I glared at Kylie in the rearview mirror. My little sister was going on fourteen, and reeked of middle school girl. Her honey brown hair was perpetually straightened and her brown eyes were rimmed with black liner. She was still boney, ‘all angles’ our dad often teased, and her thin frame was always clad with the latest fashions. She stared out the window seriously. It was getting harder to tell what she was thinking.

She had come into my room this morning to wake me up. Lyall jumped off my bed to greet her, and after the obligatory scratching behind his ears she had curled up next to me on top of my down comforter.

“Can you take me to the mall today?” She asked. She was still in her pajamas. They made her look younger, more like the little girl I had grown up with.

I shrugged, rubbing my eyes.

“Isn’t Dad supposed to take you?” My voice was still thick with sleep.

“He hasn’t come home yet.” She whispered, and I groaned.

“Of course not.”

He was probably passed out under a table at Charlie’s, or possibly McGill’s Tropical Tavern if Charlie had gotten sick of him.

Kylie drummed her fingers anxiously against the plastic armrest; apparently we were late. Bree distracted Kylie with news about the latest celebrity gossip, and I was again thankful she had allowed me to drag her along.

Things had been tense since Conner had gotten sick. Miranda’s hours were tight as a nurse at St Andrew’s hospital, and she was spending less and less time at home since my younger brother had been diagnosed with a rare form of antibiotic resistant pneumonia. Dad had also become more absent after the diagnosis; he had always been a bit absorbed in his own little fairyland, slightly removed from reality. Now that things had gotten hard all we could do was wait, and that was something he had never particularly excelled at. Instead he had disappeared, and Kylie and I had been left to take care of each other. The result was exactly as to be expected. We were at each other’s throats.

We pulled into an empty space near the door and I killed the engine. Kylie was out of the car in an instant and marching towards the entrance, leaving Bree and I trailing behind.

“I’m going to kill her.” I muttered, and Bree laughed.

“I’m so glad I don’t have a sister.”

Loose gravel and dirt crunched under our feet, the faded asphalt riddled with cracks and badly in need of repair. The mall was small and dingy, it’s once white walls now an offensive yellow color. Inside there were some small brand name stores surrounded by a plethora of discount shops and a food court. Kylie disappeared into the small scattering of people while Bree and I planted ourselves down on two heinously green chairs pulled up to an off-white square table.

“So, how’re things at home? With Jimmy?” Bree asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. I sighed. Where to begin?  It had been close to three months since the night he had kissed me. He had started calling himself my boyfriend, although I wasn’t so sure about the title.

“Conner’s condition hasn’t changed, Dad’s MIA and Jimmy keeps saying he’s my boyfriend.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…” The question in her voice was obvious.

“This isn’t exactly a good time for me to be getting into a relationship.” I conceded hesitantly, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. 

“Shea, he’s crazy about you, he’s cute, you’ve known him forever, and you’ve been stringing him along for months…. Maybe he’s exactly what you need right now.”

The truth was I was reluctant to out any of my feelings towards Jimmy because there weren’t any. Even if I refused to admit it to anyone, even myself, it wouldn’t change that fact. But I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I cowered in the corner of my mind like a child beneath the sheets, my back willfully turned upon the ever-looming presence of reality and consequences. Many nights since I had sought him out for his vitality, attention and amusement, but never with affection. And so the consequence grew ever larger.

“It just doesn’t feel right.”

The sentence was a tired excuse, and I half expected her to call me out on it. 

“It never does.” Bree replied sagely, nodding along with her statement. For a second I just stared at her.

It was funny. No, it wasn’t funny; it was hilarious. Insane unprovoked laughter ripped from my gut as her words entwined with my thoughts. No, maybe it doesn’t. I suspected I would never know. Love was a chain, and I yearned for freedom. There were already too many shackles locked around my neck. 

“What?” Her confusion began to turn into indignation. “What did I say?”

I didn’t respond, instead collecting the fragments of my composure while Bree stewed across the table.

“I’m right, and you know it… Stop laughing! God Shea, you’re so weird.”

We wandered around the mall for a while, window-shopping and people watching the way we had when we were Kylie’s age. A few times we passed her small group of friends, and each time she pointedly ignored us. As retribution we decided to go out of our way to embarrass her, calling her name out loudly every time she walked by.

One shop caught my eye amid our browsing. It was small with a window full of porcelain figurines, beautiful print boxes and ornate jewelry. A banner draped across the top of the entry way revealed it’s name to be A Leprechaun’s Treasure Trove. Upon entering the shop we were greeted by a tall man in an ostentatious green top hat. He had a red and grey streaked beard and friendly wrinkles at the corners of his faded blue eyes. Around his waist he wore a thick black belt with a gold buckle.

“I like your outfit.” I told him, and he chuckled.

“Well isn’t that isn’t kind of ya.” He had a rich Irish accent. “You ladies need help finding anything?”

“We’re just browsing.” Bree responded with a polite smile.

He returned to his spot behind the counter. We circled the room, browsing the shelves of beautifully crafted items; a green egg shaped music box trimmed with gold, an etched pewter box for jewelry and trinkets, and a silver Celtic knot pendant dangling from a shimmering chain. I approached the counter and started sifting through the selection of rings he had on display. I picked up one with a thick gold band and studied it carefully. The engravings along the side were familiar. I looked closer; they was identical to the ones on my bracelet.

“Something catch your eye?” He asked.

“Kind of…” I trailed off. The pattern was complex, twirled lines in the center that looped around two intersecting ovals that were in turn overlapped by the outline of a box.

“The Quaternary, or the four-cornered Celtic knot.” He mused, taking the ring from the palm of my hand. “A symbol of protection, a journey, and the seasons. Do you recognize its design?”

I laid my silver bracelet flat against the white of my arm and held it out for him to inspect. 

“It was left for me by my mother. I’ve never seen the design on anything else before today.”

Right as his thick calloused fingers made contact with the chain a jolt similar to but stronger than a static shock caused us both to pull away. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he drew his hand back to his chest. My arm tingled. His expression was peculiar as he looked at me and then down at his trembling fingertips. I forced a laugh and let my arm fall back down to my side.

“That was strange…”

“Listen girl, take my card. My name’s Faelan McLeary, you contact me if you ever run in to any trouble, no matter how peculiar.” His voice was urgent and low as he pushed the thin paper into my palm. I frowned and slid it into the back pocket of my jeans.

Bree walked up to the counter and looked curiously at the assortment of rings resting on the glass.

“You ready?”

I nodded. As we walked out of the shop and down the hall I turned and looked back at him. He tipped his green hat, but his expression remained somber.

By the time Kylie and her friends finished their predatory circling of the mall it had started to rain. We ran out to the car, Kylie holding her shopping bag up over her head as a makeshift umbrella. I looked up into the sky, opening my mouth to catch the raindrops on my tongue like snowflakes. I stared up into the grey trying to trace the drizzle back to its origin. Distant shouts pulled me back to reality. To Kylie and Bree waiting impatiently beside the car for me to unlock the doors and let them in. By the time I crawled into the drivers seat I was soaked, with droplets dripping from my hairline down my cheeks. Shivering, I cranked the heater up to full blast and put the car in reverse.

Our first stop was Bree’s driveway. Her ramshackle house was robin-egg blue with an uneven number of chipped red shutters. One of the gutters hung lopsidedly from the front of the house, looking as though at any moment it would give up and come crashing down into the barren bushes below.  She slammed the door and waved before running through the overgrown yard to the shelter of the awning that overhung her front door. Kylie crawled up from the back and plopped into the passengers seat, hitting my shoulder with a moccasin clad foot as she pulled her legs up through the gap between our seats.

“God Bree’s house is ugly.” 

My windshield wipers worked furiously as we drove to our next destination; the hospital. Kylie’s feet were kicked up against the dash, her head turned towards her window. I loved weather like this. The rain was nourishing; it cleansed everything it touched, as though it was nature’s way of renewing life with her tears. The sky was pale, giving the surroundings a hazy glow. I rolled down my window and stuck my arm out, a faint smile playing on my lips as I ignored Kylie’s loud complaints. I imagined the droplets exploding against the palm of my outstretched hand.

Water splashed up against my boots as we jogged towards the sliding glass doors. In one hand I held a plastic sack containing a coloring book and some candy. The automatic doors slid open. A round nurse sitting at reception smiled when she saw us, removing her spectacles from the end of her protruding nose.

“Hello girls! If you want to grab a few masks you can head over and visit Conner. I’ll let Miranda know you’re here.”

“Thanks Nurse Kelly.” Kylie and I responded dutifully before passing through the swinging doors that lead to the elevator. The cheerful color of the walls seemed insincere, as if the interior designer who picked the shade is trying to force you to be happy, even though judging from where you are you probably aren’t.

Conner’s room was orange and decorated with stuffed animals and toys. I wonder if this is cruel, since he can’t get out of bed to play with them. A television playing cartoons was nailed up in the corner of the wall, swiveled so that it’s facing Conner’s bed. His white sheets are decorated with airplanes and trains. A mountain of pillows propped him up into a sitting position. As he turned to face us his large blue eyes lit up with excitement.  His wiry brown curls stuck up left and right, and when he smiled two dimples sank into his round cheeks. The pillows seemed to engulf his tiny form, making him look even smaller and feebler than I remembered.

“Hey little man, how’s it going?” I cooed, my voice muffled by the uncomfortable mask that covered half my face. Hot perspiration from my breath dampened my cheeks. 

His shadowed eyes focused on the bag in my hands. A violent cough ripped from his chest forcing tears to the corners of his eyes, but even that did not inturrupt his delighted grin.

“Presents?” He asked with excitement. His voice was weak and raspy.

“You know it!” Kylie said energetically, taking the bag from my hands and crouching down by the side of his bed.

She opened it up and with a flourish pulled out the bag of candy.

“Because you’re so sweet!” She explained, and he giggled. I wondered where this upbeat girl disappeared to when we were at home.

I reached into the bag and handed him the coloring book and pack of crayons.

“We know how you love Super Heroes, and since you’re being so strong we picked this out for you.”

Kylie opened up the box of crayons for him and together they started filling the outlines with uneven and jagged scribbles of color. I sank down into one of the chairs that sat a few feet from his bed. I watched as she gave Spiderman a moustache and he collapsed into a fit of laughter and coughing. He didn’t sound like he was getting any better. His cough was still harsh and wheezing, and he looked weak.

After a few minutes the door creaked open, and Miranda entered the room. Her hair was pulled back into a loose clip, and baggy scrubs hung from her small body. She collapsed into the chair next to me, watching them play.

“I’m glad you two came.” Her voice was strained and tired. “It’s been hectic today. Have you heard from your dad yet?”

“No. I can go look for him later…” I started, but she cut me off.

“Oh, don’t do that. He’ll be back tonight, I’m sure. He always comes back. Besides, I don’t want you out on the streets when it’s raining like this.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her eyes began to water. “I probably won’t be home in time for dinner.”

“We’ll be fine.” I assured her. I didn’t know how many times I had repeated this phrase over the years. We are not fine, but we will be. I told myself. As soon as Dad comes home and Conner gets better, we will be fine.

Her beeper went off, and she was out the door once again. Kylie and Conner finished coloring, and they closed the book. Kylie climbed to her feet and left to go use the restroom, leaving Conner and I alone. I stood and began preparing to leave. 

“When’s Daddy coming to visit?” Conner asked, his voice wobbly.

“Soon, little man.”

His little face furrowed in concentration, and he shook his curled head. “No he’s not. He doesn’t love me since I got sick.”

My heart shattered at the resolve with which he spoke those words, and I reached down to run my hand through his messy hair.

“That’s not true. He loves you so much he’s out there trying to find a way to make you better.”

Conner’s eyes lit up with hope. In that moment I made a promise to myself. If Dad was not back by tomorrow, I would find him and bring him home. He had a family who needed him, and he didn’t get to just check out when things got difficult.

Kylie and I had frozen pizza for dinner. While I sat on the counter waiting for the timer to go off I checked my phone. I had five unread messages from Jimmy. Questions about my day, saying he’s thinking of me, details about what he was doing… The same things he sent me every day. I sent back a short response before laying my phone face down on the counter. I could see Ly pacing the yard from the window, bolting off after rabbits and squirrels and other woodland animals that made the mistake of wandering onto our property. The rain was now so light it was barely visible. 

The timer went off, and I covered my hands with a pair of mismatched hot pads. Kylie heard the noise from the other room, and when I turned around she was seated at the counter eyeing the steaming pizza hungrily. She got out two cups of milk and two plates while I set our dinner on the stove and cut it into triangular pieces. Together we dug in without a word, licking the melted cheese from our fingertips. The pizza didn’t survive long, but the result was satisfying.

Nightmares haunted my dreams, disrupting my sleep in the early hours of the morning. I sat up, brimming with restless energy. Ly lifted his head and shot me a look of annoyance. I ignored him. I pushed open the window and crawled out onto the roof, hugging my knees to my chest. The sky twinkled with starlight, and the moon reminded me of that cold March night. The way it’s reflection had rippled upon the surface of the river through the holes of the railing, the cold feeling of emptiness. I thought of that night often.

The harsh yellow glare from a pair of headlights cut across the yard as a rusty red pickup pulled up into our driveway. A man of medium stature with a slightly protruding belly climbed out of the drivers seat. He wobbled, reaching out an arm to steady himself against the door of his truck. Though I was too far up to see his features, I could picture them clearly. A receding brown hairline peppered with white, a round face with two watery blue eyes set on either side of a nose that on anyone else would be large, but somehow fit perfectly between his features. He had once been handsome, but like all once great things he had been robbed by the passage of time. Dad was finally home.

He pushed himself away from the pickup, straightening his posture as he adjusted his shirt. I considered calling out to him, but decided against it; I didn’t want to take the chance of waking up Miranda and Kylie. I expected him to turn around and walk towards the house, only to be surprised as he proceeded forward to follow the fence around the yard. I could make out the shape of his outstretched arm dragging across the bars as he staggered towards the woods.

That bastard. Disgust consumed me as I watched his slowly moving form draw nearer and nearer to the line of trees. He was a coward. I should leave him. I should allow him go through with whatever stupid idea he had conjured up, and say to Hell with it. It would be so easy.

Even as I thought the words, I knew I was lying to myself. When I pictured him bleeding and injured at the foot of a tree, or his face down corpse being swept away by the river’s rapids, I felt a cruel sense of satisfaction. And that feeling, that was the reason I knew I couldn’t leave him to wander alone. I was afraid of myself, of the monster that lurked in the shadow of my heart who took pleasure from the idea of his pain. This constant war waged on at the edges of my conscience, a warped brawl between want and thought. Today was another battle, and I wasn’t ready yet to coincide to impulse.

I crawled back in through my window and bounced off my bed onto the rough carpet. I dug through the piles of clothes that littered my floor until I found what felt like a pair of jeans and a hoodie. I threw them on and began the process of excavating my boots from the same mountain of fabric. Their leather was cool against my fingers, still damp from the day’s rain. I pulled them on one foot at a time as I stumbled towards the door, hopping around until my heel connected with the leather sole. Ly jumped off the bed and followed me languidly. I imaged he was watching my struggle with amusement, mocking the clumsiness of humans in his canine brain.

Slinging my lightweight emergency backpack over my shoulder, I crept through the hall and down the stairway lined with pictures. The frames that hung on the wall were obscured by shadows, but I could feel the warmth of the memories they held, so full of life.

Ly ignored me as I hissed commands to stay, instead pushing past me through the opened front door and trotting down the steps to wait for me in the grass.  I tugged the cool knob closed before joining him in the yard. Dad had disappeared, and I pulled the backpack back towards my chest to dig out the flashlight that I kept inside one of the pockets.

One of the first nights I ever snuck out had been to go to the city. Ally and I had found an article about an exclusive underground club, leading us to concoct a brilliant plan that involved bus tickets, slipping past the bouncer, and flirting with a bunch of cute older boys. Anna insisted on accompanying us, her reasoning being that two idiots such as ourselves stood a very slim chance of not getting murdered if we went into the city unaccompanied. We made it all the way to the city before realizing that it was a lot bigger and scarier than we had remembered, and became hopelessly lost amidst the smell of iron and gasoline.

Anna had rolled her eyes, pointedly reaffirmed the nature of our idiocy, and called the Taxi that brought us back to the bus station to catch one running home. While we waited it was cold and we were hungry, tired, and penniless. That night when I got home I packed an ‘emergency bag’, which contained food, water, money, a flashlight and some pepper spray Miranda had given me. We added to it throughout the years. On more than one occasion the bag had proved it’s worth.

Ly had disappeared once we stepped beneath the murky silhouette of the trees. The moon’s light cast long distorted shadows as I walked past the familiar trees. I had often played below the canopy of leaves as a child, but something about the darkness and the strange noises it brings transformed my sylvan playground into something more sinister. The fearsome tales my father had told me of the beings in the woods suffocated my judgment. Twigs snapped beneath my feet like tiny bones, sending shivers up my spine. I couldn’t bring myself to call out to him, instead overwhelmed by an irrational fear that something else would find me in his stead.

I walked until my feet began to ache. The woods seemed more like a forest, vast and untamed. The sky began to lighten, dusting my surroundings with the glimmer of pink light. My fear began to abate, but it’s retreat only served to inflate my worry.

  Then I saw him. He was a fleeting flash of color against my camouflaged surroundings, instantly drawing my attention. Around me the trees had begun to thin, and my flashlight dangled uselessly in my palm. Again I caught the glimpse of his denim jacket, and I called out to him. He stood just a few feet away, but was distancing himself at a startling rate. He didn’t acknowledge me, instead rushing forward through a thick mass of trees and shrubs before again disappearing from view.  I followed obstinately, and though I should have I didn’t wonder about the strange way the trees and bushes created the thick barrier, or the unnaturally dark color of their bark. Instead I pushed forward through the branches. Sharp thorns scraped against the fabric of my jeans, pricking the skin beneath. The sleeve of my sweatshirt ripped, leaving a flap of fabric trapped in the grasp of pointed oaken fingers. 

I was almost clear when a stray bramble ensnared my foot and sent me tumbling face first into the clearing. Twisting so that I was facing the brush I yanked my foot free from the wild growth of foliage. I was dirty and sore, my mind afire with the vengeful speech I was planning to give my father when I found him. I begrudgingly turned to survey my surroundings, and what I saw banished all the pain from my body and rage from my mind.

An ocean of brightly colored wildflowers blanketed the ground of a small hill, undulating like waves as they swayed together in a soft breeze. Hues of pink and gold from the rising sun gently kissed the edges of the meadow and a honeyed fragrance filled the air, casting a tranquil fog over my senses. At the top of the hill sat a flat, multi-faceted stone that sparkled in the soft light.

Only one thing marred this breathtaking view, and that would be the bumbling form of my father as he scurried up the hill and squatted down beside the rock. I called out to him, but again he ignored my call. Forcing myself from my stupor, I watched as he lifted its corner and slid inside the crack he had created. The rock fell to the earth with a muffled thud.

I ran up the hill after him, sending a silent apology to every flower whose beauty was crushed beneath my boots. My mind buzzed as I tried to process what I had just seen. How was it possible? I decided there must be a hole, a passageway beneath the boulder. It was the only semi-rational conclusion I was able to draw, and yet it only brought with it more questions. None of it made any sense. Where could he possibly be going? The stone was smooth against my fingers as I strained to hoist it up. Sure enough, beneath it was… flattened grass. I stared in disbelief. It was frustrating. An answer hovered at the edge of my memory, just out of reach.

Frustrated and confused, I was about to release the stone when something caught my eye. I stopped and with a frown looked more closely at the flattened grass; it was shimmering. The greenery rippled gently in the morning light like the bed of a still lake. I reached out and gingerly prodded the surface with the toe of my boot, my eyes wide as the ground yielded easily at its touch. A sense of wonder began to spread throughout my being, and an enchanted smile danced across my lips. Without a second thought I slipped through the grassy façade and into the unknown.

There was a moment of exhilaration; a second of the insatiable feeling of weightlessness before once again I was gently met by the firm surface of the ground. I was lying on my back facing a sky, this one slightly different from the one I had left behind. The sun was still rising, but instead of the usual array of molten hues it was aglow with a transcendent silver light. A breeze ran its fingers through my hair as my excitement began to dissipate. Anna I thought grimly, I think you’re right; I’m an idiot. Silently I cursed anyone who had ever told me to “jump in feet first”.

© Copyright 2014 Whitney Marie (whittymarie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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