Clouded by Envy

by Candace Robinson

  At times, Bray was afraid they had imagined everything. Maybe they were really born on Earth and had never met with the Stone of Desire. She knew better than that, though.

  Brenik flicked her human-sized ear with his tiny fingers, and she swatted him away. He took off for the tree as she grabbed the wicker basket from the back porch.

  “Ready, little brother?” She hadn’t called him that in a while, but today was a great day.

  Chuckling, he zoomed up to the tree, and she stopped at the base of it.

  “Ready!” he shouted down, pushing with all his strength against a peach until it plummeted. Lunging forward, Bray caught the fruit and set it into the basket.

  “Again.” Bray looked up in between the trees to see where he was, but she couldn’t find him. A pink and orange peach dropped in front of her, and she sprinted forward, catching it and placing her prize into the basket.

  “That was a good one.” She grinned. “I didn’t even see it coming.”

  They did this several times. Even though they were older now, games still consumed their day—and probably always would.

  After the basket was filled to the brim, they headed back inside. Bray set the fruit in between the pie pan and the other ingredients that were sprawled out on the counter.

  Taking out two plump peaches, Bray placed one on the counter for Brenik and brought the other up to her mouth. Delicious. She would never grow tired of peaches.

  “We need to figure somethin’ out, Bray,” Ruth said as she sliced up a peach, “whether you want to go to college one day or what.”

  Brenik stopped biting into his fruit, and Bray grew nervous. She would love to be able to do something like that. They had discussed this before, but it just wasn’t fair. “I’ll think about it.” She could think about it, but she knew what her choice would be.

  Ruth stared her straight in the eye. “You’ve been saying you’ll think about it for two years. You just turned nineteen. What are you gonna to do if somethin’ happens to me, huh?”

  “Stay in the tree, I guess,” Bray replied with a shrug.

  Ruth’s hands flew to her hips, knife tucked in hand. “And what if someone chops down that tree?”

  “We’ll be okay. We have each other.” Bray shot Brenik a glance, but he was glowering at the peach without looking up.

  “I know but…” Shaking her head, Ruth focused on Brenik. “Come here, tiny prince, I need ya to help me finish cuttin’ these. This arthritis is killin’ my fingers.” Brenik rushed over, giving Ruth a peck on the cheek and helped her finish preparing the pie.

  Bray transformed back to her smaller size and took off into the living room, plopping down on the table to stare at the checker game. Ruth chuckled from the kitchen, and Bray thought maybe one day, somehow, both she and Brenik could be happy.

  Brenik and Ruth had joined Bray in the living room, until the timer buzzed, pulling all three of their attention from the TV. “It’s ready,” Ruth said as she hurried into the kitchen and took out the warm pie. “And it sure smells damn good.”

  Brenik was practically licking his lips, and Bray closed her eyes, taking a huge whiff—amazing.

  A loud crash came from the kitchen and then a bang on the floor. Brenik was the first to find Ruth on the floor clenching her chest, pie scattered across the tile, already planting a dark tainted memory in Bray’s head.

  “Do something, Bray,” he cried hysterically, tugging at Ruth’s dress sleeve. “I’m too small to lift her.”

  Hastily, Bray transformed herself and bent down to Ruth, who was still clutching her dress and attempting to speak. “Ambulance,” she rushed out.

  Hurrying to the corded phone above the counter, Bray dialed the ambulance. She pretended to be Ruth, told them where to come, and to please hurry. Nervously, she hung up and bent back down to Ruth. She was struggling worse than before Bray made the phone call, her breaths ragged.

  “The tree hole,” Ruth rasped. “You two have to go to the tree while they’re here.”

  That was the last thing Ruth said before the clenching stopped, her twitching stopped, and her heart stopped. Brenik howled. Bray moaned. She transformed back to her small size after opening the back door, and they rushed up to their tree together.

  Brenik held Bray as she sobbed against his chest. While he held her, tears of his own rained down on her. This was worse than when they left Junah because at least they knew she was still alive, but this—this was different. Ruth was gone.

  “Hey,” a male voice whispered. Bray’s eyelids flickered open to big brown eyes staring down at her.

  “I don’t want you to make peach pie,” she responded and closed her eyes, immediately opening them again. Bray gazed up at Wes and then looked around the large space—a bed, dresser, messy desk with landscape sketches scattered across, and framed musician posters on the walls. She was in Wes’s room, but she remembered falling asleep on Luca’s shoulder.

  A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away. “Sorry, I know I’m not supposed to fall asleep in there.” She was resting softly in the middle of one of Wes’s comfortable pillows.

  “That’s not why I moved you. Luca isn’t a still sleeper—he tosses and turns the whole night, and I didn’t want you to get crushed. Trust me, I know. He’s kicked me a few times when we’ve had to share a bed before.”

  Wes was sitting up in the bed, studying her, and all she could think about was that stupid memory. Would Ruth have had a heart attack that day if she and Brenik had said no to pie when she’d asked?

  “Just so you know, I don’t even like peaches, so I won’t be making a peach pie anytime soon. Blueberry might be another story.” He smiled. Something in his expression hinted that he was trying to make her feel better. She had obviously mentioned more than she should have during her sleep. Bray would never eat another peach pie again, but she would eat a blueberry one.

  She sat up in a flash. “Can we make one today?”

  “I don’t even know how to make blueberry pie, much less a pie,” Wes said.

  “Did someone say pie?” Luca asked as he strolled into the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  “No pie,” Wes said with a tone that didn’t invite further discussion.

  Luca glanced at Bray with a grin. “Two against one,” she said, smiling mischievously at Wes.

  “Fine. I’ll buy the ingredients, but you two can do all the work,” he said, his voice filled with amusement.

  As they all agreed, the three of them went to the store together to buy the ingredients. Wes won the argument about whether to buy a premade piecrust or make it homemade. Knowing he would end up with the hassle, Wes said no way to the homemade crust.

  Putting the whole pie together only took Bray and Wes about fifteen minutes. They mixed sugar, cornstarch, salt, and cinnamon—then sprinkled it over the blueberries and poured the mixture into the piecrust that Luca had lined into the pan.

  Bray cut the remaining pastry into thin strips and latticed the top. Then Wes set the pie in the oven to bake.

  “Do you mind if I go to Kyle’s house for a little while? He’s got this new video game for the Sega I want to play,” Luca pleaded.

  “You don’t have to beg me to go to your friend’s house. Go have fun for a while.” Wes tilted his head in the direction of the front door.

  Luca’s friend Kyle lived down the street, and Luca still hadn’t gotten over his excitement of living so close to him. He no longer had to bug Wes to drop him off and pick him up all the time.

  “Okay, be back in a bit,” Luca said and sprinted for the door.

  Still feeling strange from the dream, Bray went outside to her tree and climbed up it. Peeking inside the tree hole, Bray let out a sigh because even though she knew he wouldn’t be there, she wanted to look anyway. Brenik would have understood how she felt.

  The feeling hadn’t been around for long, and sometimes she had to let it run its course for a day or two to get back to herself.

  “Are you tryi
ng to break your neck?” Wes shouted up to her.

  Glancing down at the ground, she shook her head at him. “No, sometimes it feels good to climb and do things the hard way.” She started to step down branch by branch, until she hopped down in front of him.

  “You seem off today.” He scanned her face, as if he could read her mind.

  “Do I?” She was easy to read, because she wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions.

  “Yes, you know you do. Do you want to go inside and talk about it?” Wes asked, motioning his head at the back door.

  “Can we talk out here?” Speaking about it outside in the open wouldn’t be as constricting as being enclosed inside the house.

  “We can talk anywhere you want to. Well, except for in your tree hole.” He chuckled, gazing up at the open space—the window to her world.

  Bray gave Wes’s forearm a small poke. “Did you just make a joke?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Maybe.”

  Squatting down on the grass, Bray propped her back up against the tree. Wes sat down beside her, straightening his legs all the way out before he leaned back.

  “So, you know most of the story. But after our mother abandoned Brenik and me, one of the Jovkins took care of us—kept us safe from others of her kind who wanted to slaughter our species. Junah wasn’t overly affectionate, but she was protective and made sure we had everything.”

  Even now, she still missed Junah, too.

  “When we came here, we had Ruth. She was different, and I don’t want to say better because they were both great in their own ways, but Ruth was caring and affectionate. And the thing is … I don’t get to see her again or hear her voice. The day she had a heart attack, she asked us if we wanted peach pie, and we had said yes.” A whimper escaped Bray’s throat and she leaned her head forward, so she could reach up to brush away her tears. She tugged her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

  An arm came down around her shoulder, and Wes pulled her close. He had never done anything like that before, but it felt nice.

  Wes propped the back of his head against the tree. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I understand one word about the first half of what you said. And I don’t think I want to know what a Jovkin is. But you and Brenik didn’t cause that heart attack—people die spontaneously all the time. I’m also not going to pretend like it doesn’t hurt because it sure as hell still hurts me, and it’s been almost six years.” He let out a deep sigh, his throat bobbing. “For Luca, he’s luckier in a sense because he doesn’t remember our parents that well since he was still so young when they died. But I remember everything about them so clearly.”

  Bray removed her arms from her legs and looped one around Wes’s waist. “Luca is incredibly lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot because I’m still learning as I go,” Wes smiled warmly and looked down at her. “Seriously, if you ever need to talk about anything, don’t hesitate. Okay?”

  “Okay. But I never want to eat peach pie ever again.” Bray wasn’t sure why eating peaches didn’t bother her, yet the thought of touching a peach pie was out of the question.

  “No one’s going to force you to eat peach pie, and I already told you that shit’s nasty.” He grimaced.

  Bray buried her face into Wes’s shoulder and let out a loud snort.

  “Did you just get spit all over my shoulder?” He laughed while shrugging her off.

  “Possibly?” She grinned, examining the wet spot on his shirt.

  He looked down at his watch. “We should be getting back inside to check on our real pie that actually tastes good.”

  13

  Brenik

  Brenik observed himself in the mirror, noticing his tired eyes, right as a knock on the door signaled Rana was there to pick him up—at least he assumed it was her. After the night before with the police officer, he couldn’t be sure.

  Opening the door, Brenik found Rana’s hesitant face. “Are you ready?” she asked shyly.

  She looked different today, her hair grazed her neck with shorter layers framing her face. Unable to stop himself, Brenik reached out to touch a dark lock. “You cut your hair.”

  “I did. Hopefully, it doesn’t look too bad. You show a hair stylist a picture, and it never turns out the same.” She laughed.

  “I like it.” And he did.

  Her lips were reddened again by lipstick, and that small mole right below her lip had him wetting the center of his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. He scanned the rest of her up and down, noticing the high waisted jeans with a short sleeve blouse that rested right above the waistband—showing a thin sliver of tawny skin.

  “All right, let’s go,” she said. “There won’t be too many of us tonight, but everyone should be there when we arrive.”

  “Let’s roll,” he said, trailing behind her.

  Rana talked during most of the drive—telling him about her teaching job at the local elementary school, and how she was hoping to save enough money to buy a house next year.

  “You could always move in to my place,” he suggested. Rana laughed hard at what she thought was a joke, but he was not joking. Then he remembered the owners would be back someday, so he would need to figure that out.

  After walking up the flight of stairs at Rana’s apartment building, Brenik found six people seated around the small living room. Two women with short hair and one with braids sat on a blue fabric couch, two men with muscles at barstools, and one curly-haired guy sitting on the floor had a dimple in his chin.

  “This is Brenik. Brenik, this is Jacob, Christopher, Adam, Kelly, Ashley, and my new roommate Josie.” She pointed to each one individually, but by the time she got to the last person, he only remembered her roommate’s—Josie’s—name as they all waved.

  Setting her purse down by the door, Rana turned to Brenik. “Do you want something to eat or drink? We have plenty of sodas, and I think Josie bought a ton of chips and dip.”

  Brenik ran a hand through his dark hair, already knowing he couldn’t eat or drink anything. It hadn’t seemed like it would be a big deal before, but not being able to eat or drink was becoming more tedious than he expected. Sooner or later Rana would start wondering why he always declined her offers. “Maybe later, I ate a big meal for dinner.”

  “No problem. You can take some home, too, because there will most likely be a ton left. Unless Adam eats everything.” Rana tilted her head up toward one of the guys who had to be Adam. “Right, Adam?” Then she looked at Brenik, grinning widely.

  Adam, with the brown curly hair, tapped his chest. “Who? Me? Now, why would I do such a thing?”

  “You’re holding the entire can of bean dip in your hand right now.” Rana laughed and pointed to the dip several times.

  “The power of bean dip.” Adam lifted the can in the air and pulled it back to his chest, claiming his prize.

  “You’ll be remembering that later tonight when you’re in the bathroom,” one of the guys with muscles yelled. Brenik couldn’t remember who he was.

  Josie smacked the guy who yelled on the arm, and her braids swayed against her face. “You’re disgusting, Jacob.”

  “It’s true,” Jacob responded, lifting a glass bottle to his mouth, trying not to smile.

  Brenik watched on while everyone joked, and he quietly sat back and observed. If this was what normal felt like, then for the first time in his life, he had experienced it. The feeling was new and different, almost surreal.

  “Who is this one again?” Brenik asked Rana as they went to sit on the floor next to one of the guys with long hair and muscles. He couldn’t recall his name, but the guy had blond hair past his shoulders and was wearing a blue and black flannel shirt.

  “That’s Christopher. He’s a guitarist in a band, and they just switched over to grunge since that’s ‘what’s in.’” She quoted in the air with her fingers as she rolled her eyes.

  Christopher ticked his index finger back and forth at Rana. “I heard that
, Rana. You’ll see how great the band is when we have a live show.”

  Rana reached over and shook Christopher’s arm. “You’ve been saying you’re going to have a show for the past two years. When’s it going to happen?”

  “You can’t rush perfection—and Greg’s in need of a new muse.” Christopher’s attention turned to the extra curvy woman with short spiky hair, and he waggled his eyebrows at her. “Kelly, are you up for the job?”

  “That is a no. He’s fine as hell, but he’s been around the block a few too many times for me,” Kelly answered.

  Brenik found the whole conversation amusing.

  Rana elbowed Brenik’s bicep and leaned forward to speak close to his ear, her warm breath tickling the skin of his neck. “Greg’s the singer in the band.”

  At that moment, Brenik wanted to take her any place where they could be alone. Even if it was just to talk.

  “Time for charades,” Josie yelled, and shook her arms at everyone.

  The game was more interesting than Brenik thought it would be. He found himself not being overly communicative, but not completely anti-social either.

  The group split up into four teams—the theme was Disney characters. Brenik hadn’t bothered to watch most of the Disney movies—Bray would have known every answer.

  Bobbing her arms stiffly up and down while bending her knees to lift her legs, Rana bulged her eyes and nodded her head toward Brenik.

  “I don’t have any idea what that even is.” He chuckled as he tried to think about it.

  “Wait, hold on,” he added, holding up his hand over his eyes, so he could avoid being distracted by Rana’s odd movements.

  What is that movie Bray would watch with the girl who liked books? Brenik brought his other hand up, his fingers fiddling back and forth as he thought, while everyone in the room knew exactly who Rana was pretending to be. Then it came to him. “The Beast!” he shouted, content with his answer.

  “What?” Rana yelled, throwing her hands up. “Are you kidding me? It’s Pinocchio. You know? Puppet movements?” She dangled her arms again in his face with a cute, angry expression.