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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Mystery · #2307889
Carol St. Ann's Three. Thanks for your contribution to the challenge.
The sky had gone grey, and the afternoon chill was contributing to Candace's poor mood. As she turned the corner, she noticed the old green and white pickup was still sitting in the "delivery only" space in front of the office, just like yesterday. She couldn't help it, "Crap," she muttered, "two days!" She pulled into the space behind the truck, noting the rusting seams of the tailgate, and the expired Tennessee license plate. As she got out of her car, she saw the odd angle of the vehicle, noticing the front wheels were missing, the brake drums sitting directly on the pavement. Her curiosity got the better of her, and Candace stepped up to the driver's window,to see what she could see. In the passenger side floorboard, she saw the ghost from a memory; the stringy, frayed red and white ropes of an old handmade swing, attached to a bright yellow plank seat. The last time she had seen it was 15 years ago, swaying in the autumn Vermont breeze as she and her mother drove down the driveway of her aunt's home, never to return. Her nine year old self had never understood the argument between the two women that had sent them hurtling down the road back to Virginia. Now, she closed her eyes and remembered the feeling of swinging beneath the rich, full leaves of the old oak, taking turns with her cousin Marcy, just four months younger, but blessed with the same red hair and green eyes that greeted her in the mirror every morning. Marcy...they had never found her. Missing ten years, Candace recalled vividly the news footage of the black helicopters circling over the pine Barrens of Kentucky searching for the 14 year old Marcy after she had vanished from the campground where she and her mother had been on vacation. She made her way around to the passenger door. She tried the handle, and to her surprise, the door was unlocked. As it swung open, her gaze fell on the swing. From this angle, it seemed to undergo a transformation. It seemed to be coiled serpent-like, as if laying in ambush for an unwary hand to invade the interior of the truck. She drew back from the truck, suddenly confused about her next step. Something in the back of her mind reeled at the presence of the swing, and her confusion mounted as she tried to piece together a puzzle that was clearly so wrong.
As she tried to make up her mind as to her next actions, she heard a giggle that sent a chill up her spine. She turned toward the source, near the front door of her own office, and there she stood...Marcy. unmistakably so, her bright red hair framing her face like a halo from the nether regions. She was wearing a jeweled eyepatch on the left side, her bright green right eye standing out in an almost feral fashion, seeming to bore into Candace's soul.
"What's shakin',cuz?" Marcy's light New England accent was a shock to hear, as was the very thought of her being a real live person at this point in time. The family had assumed her body was buried somewhere in Kentucky, never to be found. Candace felt the world spin and it all went dark.

Candace awoke sitting up like a ragdoll, leaning against the side of the truck. She felt the warmth of an arm against hers and turned her head to look at the anomaly sitting next to her. The shock started to abate, and she found her voice; "Marcy? Is it really you?" Marcy grinned and leaned close, whispering, "Thought I was a ghost, right? I get a lot of that lately." Marcy gracefully rose to her feet, pulling Candace along with her. "I thought mom was gonna crap when she came out while I was getting my swing out of the tree." Candace was at a loss for words, and just stared at her long lost cousin. Marcy began to giggle, "Cat got your tongue?" Marcy reached out and pulled Marcy into her arms and began to sob, "Where were you? Why couldn't they find you? What happened? How did you find me?" Marcy petted her hair and whispered gently. But firmly, "Hush, hush...shh" As her tears subsided, Candace noticed the firm muscles in Marcy's arms, and she felt the same sturdy musculature in her back as she hugged her close. Marcy smiled warmly and said, "Candy, I got aboard an airship in Kentucky that afternoon, and never looked back." Candace dropped her jaw open and stared at Marcy, shocked. "An airship?! Are you serious?" Marcy nodded, smiling and crossing her heart with her right hand, "I promise." Marcy stepped back and said quietly, "Remember how our mothers told us our dad's had died in the war?" Candace nodded as Marcy went on,"That was all BS. We're not cousins, We're sisters...well, half sisters, anyway." She went on, "I've been living with our dad all this time, and living my best life!" Candace's gaze locked on the eyepatch, and Marcy giggled nervously, "Well, mostly, anyway." Marcy pulled Candace close again and whispered in her ear, "Come with me, Candy! Let's ride the Aether together! No daughter of Spartacus Kane should settle for being a paralegal in Virginia when she can travel to places like Hy Brasil and Shangri-La!"
Candace felt her face flush with the thought of being with Marcy and living a life of adventure like they had dreamt of as children. Then it seemed reality engulfed her. What madness was this? Had she taken leave of her senses? Everything around her was suddenly like a bad dream. She turned and looked at the run-down pickup and the swing hanging out the door as if it had lost what reality it had ever possessed. Marcy followed her gaze and began to giggle again, "Oh crap, Almost forgot." Marcy reached into her pocket and pulled out a small brass box with a big green button on it. As she pressed the button, the pickup began to shimmer in the late afternoon light. In moments, the front wheels reappeared ,and all the rust just faded away, leaving a bright showroom finish in the classic green and white of its youth. Candace felt new as well, and as Marcy closed the door on the pickup, Candace saw the shimmering start again, in the wide street just beyond the pickup.

In moments, a form began to appear, towering over the streetlights. As the airship took form, she noted the name painted on the bow, and knew her life was indeed about to change. And now, there it was, in all its glory: the legendary airship Pandora. Candace turned to hug Marcy again, as a man came down to hook a lift line on the pickup. "Let's go, Marcy, I'm ready!"
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