The City on the Sea (City on the Sea Series Book 1)

Home > Other > The City on the Sea (City on the Sea Series Book 1) > Page 5
The City on the Sea (City on the Sea Series Book 1) Page 5

by Heather Carson


  “Do you think you might be imagining it?” She gives my hand a gentle squeeze. There it is. My fears laid out in the open. The words hang heavy in the air around my head. Maybe I’m just as crazy as my mother is.

  “I’m not sure.” I chew on my bottom lip. “It’s the same one all the time and he is there even when I’m alone.”

  “Maybe they are making sure you don’t get hurt.” It’s meant to be a reassuring suggestion, but I can already tell she’s made up her mind. “And anyway, who cares if they watch? Let them look. We both know you’ve never done anything wrong. Plus, some of them are pretty cute. What’s the harm in looking back?”

  “I knew you’d say that,” I sigh.

  “Well if you knew, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asks as she pulls me toward her house.

  Because you think I’m crazy, I want to say but can only manage a shrug. Lena laughs as she wraps her arm through mine.

  Her touch is a tether to real life. I want to hold to it, but Jillian’s words stay with me and remind me that I’m not alone. Lena can’t understand because she hasn’t been in this situation.

  “Come on,” she laughs tugging on my arm. “Ma is probably still waiting up. And Brooke,” she pauses to look at me, “if they are really watching you for some reason, we will figure it out together. You don’t have to worry about this alone.”

  *

  The warmth of my best friend’s house engulfs me with such comfort and safety that I’m tempted to think I just might be crazy. The watchmen couldn’t care less about me. Jillian’s words are there though, hiding in the dark recesses of my mind. They reassure me that I’m sane and the memory of my mother’s hands reminds me that the world isn’t as perfect as it seems.

  Still, it’s easy to forget all this for a moment as I am pulled into Lena’s life. Her mother, Beau, lets out an audible sigh of relief as we walk in through the door. She leaps from her seat and rushes over to smother both of us in her embrace. Her strong arms and large chest block out all light as the salty smell of the sea fills my nose.

  Latka, Lena’s younger sister, grumbles from her seat on the floor next to the chair that her mother left. “Are you going to leave me like this?” The artfully tied rows of braids cover half her head and she crosses her arms as she pouts, “Lena’s only been gone for a few hours. That’s barely enough time to miss her.”

  “The favorite child deserves to be greeted.” Lena sticks her tongue out at her sister from behind her mother’s back. I struggle to retain my laughter.

  “Ma,” Latka protests. “I want to go to bed.”

  “Hush now child.” Beau shakes her head and gives us a final squeeze. “It’s late and I was worried. All is calm now.”

  She releases her grip and looks at me with such welcome that my heart soars. “Go eat girls.” She points to the kitchen. “Let me finish this naughty girl’s hair.”

  Latka’s moans of outrage fade as Lena drags me through the house. The food is still warm and settles comfortingly into my stomach.

  “Did she know I was coming?” I scoop a second portion of kelp noodles covered in crab sauce onto my plate.

  “She always makes too much,” Lena sighs as she leans back against the counter and thoughtfully chews her food. “My brother used to eat a lot.”

  My fork twists into the noodles, snapping them as they spin. I’m always unsure of the right words to say when Lena speaks about her brother. We were kids when his boat sank. She stood next to me behind the wall the following day. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

  “Paint me a picture,” she’d whispered. So, I swirled my finger in the mud and drew a crude outline of his face on a flat rock.

  “Okay.” We stood silently holding hands as the wind dried the tears on her face. The day after my father died, she held my hand again the same way.

  “Do you want to paint him?” she’d asked. I shook my head no, too despondent to answer. “Okay.”

  “Are you tired?” Lena yawns as she rinses her plate. “Because I’m exhausted.”

  “Unbelievably tired.” I shake my head to dispel the memory and rinse off my own dish. Lena kisses Beau and Latka goodnight.

  We creep past the remainder of her sisters in the back room toward the far wall where Lena’s bed lays. The four girls grunt and snore in their sleep. My eyes begin to close as soon as we snuggle under her blanket.

  “I take it you made up with Tordon?” Lena whispers the question right next to my ear.

  “Not like that,” I whisper back with my eyes still tightly closed. “I finally told him how weird the kiss was, and we decided to still be friends.”

  “Is he still interested in more than that?” There’s a depth behind her question but I’m too tired to try and decipher it.

  “I don’t think so. He said it was weird for him too.”

  Lena is silent and I think she’s gone to sleep. The blackness of dreams begins to cloud my mind. Her words are so subtle that I fail to fully grasp them as I float out on the sea of unconsciousness.

  “I wonder if he is lying.”

  *

  Giggling girls poke at my face pulling me from my dreams. I keep my eyes closed and fake sleep until their brave little hands reach out once more.

  “Argh!” I growl opening my eyes wide and catching them off-guard. There’s a chorus of terrified squeals as Lena’s little sisters scramble away. I laugh and prop myself up on one elbow. Lena groans at the sudden blast of cold air that snakes into the open space and the blanket is ripped from me as she covers herself back up.

  The barefoot little girls come rushing forward to sit on my lap. Layla and Lara are twins just a year older than Zander. The baby of the family, Lia, comes toddling after them. Her belly protrudes from her thin wrapped dress and her chubby hands push her older sisters away as she fights to sit between them. I had assumed this last one would be spoiled rotten but she’s tougher than all her sisters combined.

  “Go away,” Lena mumbles to the little ones. They cling to my side as we follow the scent of food being cooked outside of the room.

  Beau swats Lavia with a rag as the older girl lingers by the stove. Latka, with her head fully done in braids, calls out a hurried goodbye as she leaves. The morning sun warms the main room and the sounds dance easily around the house.

  I manage to pry the girls off me and leave them playing with their dolls on the floor. Lia stomps like a monster. Her sweet baby face roars as she destroys her sister’s play and the twins moan as they set it back up again.

  “What can I do to help?” I ask as Beau bustles around the kitchen.

  “Go strain that pot,” she directs, and I immediately comply. “How’s your mother?” Her lips are pressed into a tight line once she asks.

  I almost drop the strainer. Lena is so much like her mother. They both do and say things in a big way. Their anger and their love are expressed freely. At times it is the most comforting thing in the world, but at times like this when their words are so direct that it slices through the air it can be a little unnerving.

  I know she wants the truth and because of who she is I have no other choice but to give it.

  “She’s gotten worse,” I say. My breath catches in my throat as I remember yesterday morning and a new wave of pain hits me. “She told me to leave.”

  A fierce motherly distress contorts Beau’s face. “It’s better that you aren’t there. You’ve done enough. Some people can’t be helped.”

  “I feel like I failed.” The words rush from me before I thought about them and the reality kicks me in the stomach.

  “Sweet girl.” Beau chokes up as she pulls me into her arms. “You didn’t fail. You did your best. That’s all any of us can do.”

  I know what she says is partially right, but I can’t stop myself from crying because it still feels like I failed. There is no way I can say this aloud because Beau won’t want to hear it.

  “Shh, shh,” she soothes as she rubs circles into my back. “It’s time to let thi
s go. You are not a child anymore and you’ve done your service as a daughter.” Beau leans back and holds me at arm’s length staring intently into my eyes. “What is it that you want now?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug wishing I had a more profound answer to match the depth of her question.

  “She probably wants to eat,” Lena sighs as she walks into the kitchen pulling her long black braids into a bun that she pins to the top of her head.

  “It’s a serious question.” Beau rolls her eyes dramatically even though I’m the only one who can see it. “It’s time that both of you girls figure out what you want from life.”

  “I know what I don’t want,” Lena laughs as she picks her sisters up from the floor and deposits them into their chairs. “I don’t want to have a house full of children.”

  “Don’t say that.” Beau fixes the plates. “You might want that one day.”

  “Doubt it.” Lena takes the dishes from her mother and carries them to the table.

  I watch the distant sky from the open window in silence as I think on this question. The twins insist I sit between them and immediately begin listing everything they want. The constant chatter becomes a blur as I watch the clouds drifting by.

  “Brooke, are you with us?” Lena pulls me back into the conversation.

  “She’s thinking about what she wants,” Beau scolds her oldest daughter. “Leave her alone.”

  My cheeks flush. Beau is right, but I’m no closer to finding an answer than I was moments before.

  Lena sits back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. “Well I want to have fun. I want to really live. I want to love and laugh and experience everything.” I smile at the resolve on her face.

  “True love is more than one-night stands,” Lavia mumbles under her breath loud enough for us to hear.

  “What would you know about that?” Lena leans forward and places her palms on the table. “I’ve loved more in one month than you ever will in your life.”

  I can already hear Lavia’s reply before it’s spoken, and the words fall from my own mouth in an attempt to keep the peace. “I know that I don’t want to disappear.”

  The table goes silent as they turn to me. Lena arches an eyebrow and Lavia’s eyes widen.

  “No one wants to disappear Brooke.” Lavia redirects her sarcasm away from her sister. “Why would you of all people worry about that?”

  “I…” I don’t know how to answer.

  “Leave her alone Lavia, she’s a little on edge after what happened yesterday,” Lena comes to my defense.

  “I’m not being mean,” Lavia pouts. “Besides, it’s supposed to be a question of what you want. Not what you don’t want.”

  “I don’t really know what I want,” I stammer. I mean, I’d really like to not disappear. Of all the things in the world, I don’t want the watchmen to take me away and I don’t want to vanish without a trace. Lavia’s question needs an answer though. I close my eyes and struggle to visualize the thing that makes me happiest. Memories are all I have. My father, the time on the land, and my paintings are all the things that bring me the most joy.

  “I guess I just want to retire,” I say. “I want to live on the land and paint.”

  This sounds like a good enough answer. The bright greens of leaves. The flowers of lilac and orange. The dark red apples. All the hues of my youthful days spent behind the wall fill me with such wonder that I don’t know where else I’d rather be.

  “That’s what all of us want,” Lavia sighs. “But what do you want to do in the meantime?” I shake my head and Beau places a silencing hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

  “That’s what my mother wanted.” She gives me a tender smile. “She worked hard and lived for the chance to retire. My grandmother wanted that too. There is nothing wrong with planning for the future even if it seems so far away.”

  “That’s what I want more than anything.” I’m at peace with my answer despite Lena’s incredulous stare.

  After a long silence, she mutters under her breath, “Well you might change your mind one day.”

  ‡ Chapter Six ‡

  Lena and I walk in silence to the spinners. The normal noise of the wharf is somewhat subdued after yesterday’s celebration. Still, the fish vendors call out their prices as we hurry by. It seems Anna and Bergah have formed a sort of truce for the day. Tomorrow they will be back at each other’s throats.

  The music from the women on the rocks spinning plastic between their knuckles calls to us as we take our rightful place beside the sea. Lena doesn’t rest her back against mine and I’m made painfully aware that something is wrong.

  “What is it?” I ask as I twist the strip into three before knotting it with the twin strand. Lena is silent, which is never a good thing, until she huffs into the wind.

  “Your only goal in life is to leave me.” Her words take me by surprise.

  “That’s not at all what I meant.” I blow out an exasperated breath to match hers. “Maybe we can retire together someday.”

  “But that never happens,” Lena whines. “You could start a family or fall in love. There are so many things that stop people from retiring.”

  Both of us turn to look at Margaret whose wrinkled hands move stiffly as she ties the rope. She sings the ancient song that we know the words to but don’t understand.

  “I thought you didn’t want a family.” My joke is carried away with the notes of the tune.

  “I don’t,” Lena states firmly. “But I don’t know if I could leave the one I already have.”

  I think of my mother sitting all alone in her rocking chair hating me and of my father’s body disintegrating in the sea. Then Meghan holding baby Thora, the storm born girl who will grow in my sister’s image. Zander’s face is so sweet and innocent. All these images play tug of war in my mind.

  “You’re right.” I sigh leaning against Lena’s back and feel her muscles relax against mine in forgiveness. “It was the only answer I could think of at the time.”

  “Yeah, Ma is kind of intense,” she giggles.

  “So are you,” I laugh. After a moment of silent understanding, we both join in with the melody of the spinners around us.

  *

  It’s an hour later when I look up from my twisted plastic thread. There on the edge of the wharf stands the watchman. I nudge Lena with my elbow and speak softly without moving my lips. “That’s the same one who was watching me yesterday out on the rocky outcropping.”

  “I don’t like you going there,” Lena reminds me. “It’s dangerous. Maybe he was watching to make sure you don’t get hurt.” She turns her head toward him.

  “He’s a cute one,” she says in a haughty tone. Her confidence emboldens me, and I take a second to really look at him. The green uniform is rolled up slightly exposing the muscles on his forearms and his brown hair is cut symmetrically close to his head. His features are sharp and stern as he stares at me.

  “He’s an arrogant jerk,” I sigh as I return to my work. “There’s nothing cute about him.”

  “He’s definitely no Tordon,” Lena shrugs, “but I don’t think he looks that bad.”

  “Well I wish he’d stop looking at me,” I mumble.

  “Hey. Don’t worry about it.” She bumps gently against my back. “I’m sure it’s a coincidence. It might not even be the same guy. You’re right, they all do look alike.”

  *

  When our work is done for the day, I promise Lena I’ll spend the night with her tomorrow. I need to go check on Meghan and she’ll insist on me staying the night.

  “We can figure something more permanent out soon,” Lena says. “Just know that you are always welcome to stay with me.”

  I hug her quickly before she heads in the opposite direction. The word permanent slaps me in the face. It seems ridiculous that I am now homeless. Part of me wants to avoid going to Meghan’s altogether. I’m afraid of the rampage she’ll go on once she learns what happened, but if I don’t come by, she’ll
be worried and send Rowan out to find me. Lying to her isn’t an option. I ready myself for the storm to come as I step inside her small house.

  “Auntie Brookie.” Zander leaps from the floor and runs into my arms.

  “We were just talking about you,” Rowan says as he sets the table for dinner. I can see the relief in his eyes that he didn’t have to go to our mother’s house.

  “Is that Brooke?” Meghan calls from the back room.

  “I’m coming,” I say as I remove my sandals by the door.

  Meghan and Thora are curled up in a nest of blankets on the bed. My niece is sleeping peacefully in the crook of her mother’s arm.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask as I sit gently on the bed beside her.

  “Tired.” Meghan smiles as she closes her eyes. “I figured you’d come back last night.”

  “I ended up working at the tavern with Lena.” My voice is soft so as not to wake the baby. “They needed the extra hands.”

  “I’ll bet they did.” Meghan chuckles with her eyelids still closed. “Why didn’t you come by this morning?”

  I try to change the subject. “Is Zander going to the wall tomorrow? I’ll keep picking him up for a while. You should stay in bed.”

  “What’s wrong?” Her reddened eyes open wide as she looks at me in a panic. I mentally kick myself for thinking I could hide anything from her.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” I shake my head, forcing my eyes to stay dry. “I only want to help.”

  “You’re lying.” Meghan expertly places the baby’s mouth to her breast as Thora starts to fuss. “What did she do?”

  “Nothing.” The word comes out as a broken whispered plea, but I know my sister and this crazed protective glare won’t relent until I tell the truth.

  “She destroyed it.” I hang my head as I speak. “The black squid ink we’d harvested. She stained the whole mural with it. She destroyed the house and crushed the shells.”

  Meghan’s energy radiates in a mixture of action and raging fury. “You’re not staying there anymore. I forbid it.”

  “She beat you to the punch.” I shrug halfheartedly as a single tear burns a path down my cheek. “She kicked me out.”

 

‹ Prev