by MK Schiller
“And your father? How is he?” Rose asked with less enthusiasm.
“He’s fine. He’s happy with my stepmom.” I didn’t have much to say. Why waste any more time on my dad? He said he didn’t want anything else to do with me. I needed to write him off, too.
“How long can you stay?” she asked.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“How long you’ll have me.”
She set the joint down on a bowl that looked more like a sculpture than an ashtray. “Make yourself comfortable then. We’re in for the long ride.”
“That sounds really good.”
“Would you like a job? My best employee just quit, and I could use some more help at the restaurant. That article you saw has made the tourists come out in droves.”
I didn’t even know she owned a restaurant. God, I was a total dickhead nephew.
“That would be great. I don’t have any experience, but I’m a hard worker.”
“The restaurant has been in our family for three generations. I think it’s only appropriate a fourth work there.”
I sipped my tea, letting the cup shield my shame. My finger was too large to curl around the porcelain teacup, so I clutched it in my hands. “Can’t wait.”
We passed the joint back and forth. She asked me some more questions about our lives on the other coast. It felt comfortable in some weird way. When the joint shrunk, she handed me a roach clip. Damn, Aunt Rose was a total pothead.
“Ever use a pipe?”
“As long as my fingers work, I prefer to roll one.”
Yeah, this seemed really old school. I cracked up, a little too loud and way too long. I’d moved into Stonesville.
I had a million questions for her, but I stayed silent. Wanting information from Rose without giving her anything in return would be over-playing a bad hand. How could I explain that I’d been dreaming about this place without realizing it for the last ten years? Not just this place, but a certain girl. One with long hair, the color of the setting sun and eyes bluer than the Gulf of Mexico. Although judging by Aunt Rose’s oddness, maybe she’d be the one person who’d understand the crazy in me. “Aunt Rose, I can’t explain this, but I feel drawn to this place.”
She looked out the window. “Your mother loved this island. It’s a part of us. So, you can say, the island is in your DNA.”
“Can you tell me about her? My father never talks about her, and Anna doesn’t remember too much.”
“She was very special. I wish you could have known her, Jason. I imagine you’ve had a very hard life without the presence of a mother to guide you.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I had Anna.”
“Of course, you and Anna must be close, but it’s not quite the same.”
“Aunt Rose, believe me when I tell you I’ve had a cushy life. I’ve gone to the best schools, traveled around the world, and always had more than my fair share.” I didn’t add that I’d also been a resident at some pricy rehabs. “Sure, I wish she was alive, but I don’t plan on throwing myself a pity party because I didn’t get enough hugs. On the scale of tragedies, it doesn’t rank that high.”
“Suffering silently is not a prerequisite of manhood, even if it does meet society’s standards.” A soft smile spread on her lips. “To answer your original question, your mother was beautiful and not just on the outside, either. She was innocent but eternally strong, too. She had a kindness she carried in her heart that showed. Many boys fell in love with her, but she only returned the affections of one.”
I wanted to ask her who, but I stopped myself. Obviously, she referred to my father. “That’s a shocker.”
Aunt Rose’s green eyes held a faraway look. “You have to understand he was very different then, or perhaps he was the same man, but now his mourning is too deep for him to love. Their story was rare.”
I regarded her skeptically. “I can’t picture my dad as a romantic.”
She frowned as she poured herself some more tea. “Hmpf, children always find it difficult to believe their parents existed before they came along, but he was. He came here for his college spring break, young, handsome, and charismatic. He planned Serenity as just a day excursion, but he met your mom on the beach and changed around his vacation, even extending it by a week.
“They spent every day together. She told me she loved him. I warned her to be careful. He lived so far away, and his lifestyle wasn’t anything like ours. Honestly, I thought it would be over after he left, but it was just the beginning. He wrote her these wonderful love letters.”
“My father wrote love letters?” I was glad I wasn’t sipping any of the bitter tea. I’d probably spit it all over the couch.
“Yes, long, rambling, poetic words with these cute little drawings.”
What did my dad possibly draw? Spreadsheets and pie charts maybe?
“He came back to see her every chance he got. When he graduated college, they married.”
“I never met the man you’re describing.”
“Love changes people. Loss of love changes them even more.”
“He blames me for her death.”
She leaned forward with surprising speed, placing her hands on her knees. “I disagree. When he sees you and your sister, he sees her. You look like her. That’s difficult for him. It’s not just physical, either. You embody her kindhearted spirit and tenacity, Jason.”
I let out a cynical laugh. She didn’t know the weak man my father was now. “Aunt Rose, you’re a very sweet woman, but you don’t know me. We may be family, but we’re also strangers.”
“Interesting, your statement would imply you don’t know me as well, yet you know I’m sweet. First impressions leave their mark. I know what I see. My hair might be falling out and I might smoke weed like it’s 1969, but my eyes are still rooted to my skull and my vision is perfect.” She held out her glasses, away from her face. “Well, perfect with these anyway.”
After the joint was too small for even the clip to hold, she dropped it into the ashtray. She clapped her hands. “You can start tomorrow.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. I wanted to start my search for the girl. But I wasn’t going to argue. This woman was doing a lot for me. I’d waited for ten years to meet this girl. I could wait another day.
“It’s a plan.”
Chapter Three
The rain beat against the roof, its fat, heavy drops created a steady rhythm. We were younger—maybe twelve or so. Her face had the tracks of fresh tears. My fingers clenched as I imagined hurting whoever had caused them. The room itself was a blurry dim background except for the two girls next to me. I didn’t say a word. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. There was some song playing on the radio. It sounded familiar.
“He left because I’m stupid.”
“He did not,” Anna responded. “Don’t claim this guilt, sweetie. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Yes, it does. He even said so!” she spat. Her tears came harder as her voice choked back the sobs. The pain inside of her became a tangible force. “He’s told me before that he can’t handle me. I’m too much work.”
She sucked in a deep breath, one that sounded too deep and long for such a tiny body.
“Listen to me. He left because he’s an asshole. You deserve better.”
She looked at me, her blue eyes wide and bloodshot. Her hair was a mess of twisted braids. I tugged on one and offered her a smile.
I went to stand. She looked up at me, tears in her eyes.
“It’s okay,” I said, an octave above whisper. “I’m going to get y’all drinks.”
The girl let go of my hand but stared at me as I went to the kitchen. Maybe she thought I’d leave, too? I made her some strawberry-flavored milk. Her favorite. I even added an extra scoop. She smiled when I handed the mug to her, taking it with both hands. We listened to the falling rain with that damn evasive song.
I was in front of a bright red door with black paint d
rips, slightly ajar, revealing a dark smoky room, the scent of grapefruit gagging me. I hated that door. Not because it was frightening. Nope, it just annoyed the fuck out of me, always interrupting my time with her like an unwelcomed commercial break. I never stepped inside. There was something ominous behind that door. If I went inside, this might be over forever or maybe I’d wake up. Truthfully, I never wanted to wake up.
So, I just stood while “Paint It Black” by the Rolling Stones, one of the few songs I recognized, played during the irritating intermission. I willed my mind to take me back…back to her. It wouldn’t until the very last eerie chord. It was enough to make a man hate Mick Jagger.
We were older now. I sat on the boulder, watching her. She walked along the shoreline, kicking at the waves, in an apple green bikini top and biker shorts slung down low enough to show off the peace sign belly button ring she wore. I wanted to give peace a chance.
She looked up, met my gaze, and raised me a flirty smile. “Quit fucking me with your eyes, Flynn.”
“I’d rather use another body part.” I patted the rock. “Come here.”
She crawled up the rock and lay with her back against me. The boulder just large and flat enough to support both of us comfortably. We watched the foamy waves pass by us. Three surfboards lay scattered around the sand. I nuzzled her neck, and she sank back against me. Her warm soft skin felt good.
“Are you excited?” she asked.
I kissed the dimple on her cheek. “Yes and no.”
“Why, no?”
“I’m not stoked about hanging out at some dance club. You know it’s not my thing. But I am very much looking forward to watching you dance.”
She turned toward me and arched her brow. “You’re not going to dance with me?”
“You know I don’t dance.” I tilted her chin, so I could stare at those calming blue eyes. “But there’s no way I’m letting you out there by yourself. I’ll stand next to you the whole time.”
“You have to dance. It’s my birthday, and that’s my wish.”
I sighed. “I’ll try.”
“Thank you for taking me.”
“I promised once I got my license, I’d take you anywhere you wanted to go for your birthday. “
A ringing phone cut through the melody of crashing waves. She jumped off the rock and rifled through the shorts laying on one of the surfboards. She handed me a phone. “It’s Anna.”
I slid the bar and answered.
“Hey there,” I said.
“When will you be home?” Anna asked without even saying hello.
“In a bit, but I’m going out tonight. We’re hitting the club.”
There was a heavy pause before she responded. “Okay,” she said, telling me everything was definitely not okay.
“What’s wrong?”
“Put her on speaker,” the girl said, climbing back on the rock, a frown on her beautiful mouth.
I complied.
“Hi, Anna,” she greeted.
“Hi. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you need something?” I asked Anna.
“Can you open the patio door for me before you leave?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Why?”
“I might be able to hear the concert in the park from here.”
Guilt flooded me, pouring through every vein. “Sorry, Anna Banana, I totally forgot that was today.”
My strawberry blonde beauty moved away from me. She looked down at the phone and back at me. “What concert?”
I answered before Anna could make an excuse for me. “They’re playing Swan Lake at the park. I was supposed to take her. I’m an idiot and forgot it was today.”
Anna’s voice came through the phone. “It’s okay. I’ll still hear the music from here. I don’t have to be there.”
Before I could respond, the girl did. “Let’s go to the concert instead. All of us.”
“No,” Anna said, but I could hear the distant hope in her voice. “You guys hate that kind of music. Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s growing on me,” the girl said, although I could tell she lied. Her smile was a bit crooked whenever she lied.
“You have plans, and today is your birthday. Your day.”
“I just wanted to dance with your brother.” She jabbed her thumb back in my direction. I put my arms around her and rested my head on her shoulder. “We can dance under the stars in the park. That actually sounds more romantic.”
“Hang on, Anna.”
I put the phone on mute; spots of sand stuck to the screen. Tilting her head up so we were eye level, I asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m positive.”
“I wanted to make you happy today.”
“You make me happy every day.”
“It’s your birthday—”
“Exactly why you should do what I want.”
“What about the guys? They’ll never go for this.”
She shrugged. “They can come or not. It doesn’t matter to me. But we are going no matter what.”
I kissed her forehead before unmuting the phone. “See you in fifteen, Anna.”
She kissed me as soon as I hung up.
I smacked my lips, enjoying the tart taste. “Is that cherry gloss?”
She shot me a victorious smile. I’d lost our little game again. “Raspberry.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Really? Let me verify that.” I went in for another taste.
Chapter Four
I woke up in a cold sweat a little after three in the morning. Damn…why did I always wake up before the good part? Why the hell was I dreaming of Swan Lake, of all things? And why didn’t Anna go to the concert on her own? She wasn’t this needy.
I was always consciously aware when I was in a dream. It was like watching a television show you starred in but had no control over and could not follow. I used to think everyone’s dreams were like that until I started going to therapy.
One thing was certain: the boy of in dreams was nothing like the man who had the dreams. I didn’t greet people with a “y’all.” I didn’t omit the low vowels in the middle of words so “get” came out as “git.” There were physical differences, too. I was still muscular but less built, more like a runner, not a fighter. The inked black band on my left bicep wasn’t there. Then again, I didn’t get that until a few months ago, but none of my other tattoos existed, either. My hair was definitely shorter, and my skin colored with a natural golden tan.
Questions and confusion swirled around my head, in a loud cacophony, like a full band of instruments, each one playing a different tune. I sat and massaged my temples until rational thought returned.
Then I smiled. A real smile. I had not had a drop of liquor. It had been a long time since I’d been able to dream without drinking.
I blinked my eyes open and stretched my arms as far as they would go. Wincing as a sharp pain hit my side, I took in a deep breath, checking the clock again.
Aunt Rose said she usually left at seven to set up for work. That gave me a few hours. The dream had felt more real and vivid than its predecessors. I itched to find something familiar. Anything.
I flipped on the light of the spare room and shuffled through my luggage until I found the magazine. The one that had brought me here. There was the massive boulder on the beach. I had to go and see it for myself.
I put on my running shoes and a pair of shorts. Stepping out into the dark, chilly Texas air, I gulped a deep breath. I ran toward the sound of distant, crashing waves. I sprinted past streets lined with copies of houses like Aunt Rose’s with different colored doors or shutters. I squinted, trying to make out if any had red doors with black paint drips, but none did.
Finally, I came to a crossroads at the city center. A sign that said “beach access” pointed to the left. This was the right way. My body knew what my mind could not comprehend. I’d traveled here many times.
I came to a wooded area.
I ran though the path. A few overhanging branches scratched me, but I ignored them. Dawn broke over the horizon, casting everything in shades of light orange. I fell onto the sand, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and joy as I took in the rock and the sea. My rock. My island.
My phone buzzed.
Anna.
I had to answer this time. She was up at four in the morning, probably ready to call the National Guard on me. Taking a deep breath, I accepted the call.
“Hey, sis.”
“What the fuck, Flynn!” I closed my eyes, waiting for her tirade of expletives to finish. I almost wondered if my phone would die before she was done.
“Holy hell, Anna, you could make a sailor go to confession.”
“Do you know how worried I’ve been wondering where the hell you were for the last three days?”
“I sent you a text.”
She made a high-pitched sarcastic sound that resembled a laugh. “A cryptic text that said ‘I need to get away for a while’ did not put my mind at ease. Where the hell are you?”
“In Serenity. I’m visiting Aunt Rose.”
There was complete silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long I checked my phone to make sure she hadn’t hung up.
“Why there?” she finally asked.
“I just thought it might be nice to visit our mom’s sister. I didn’t know it was an island.” Maybe if I had, the dreams would have made more sense. I’d been dreaming of a beach and more specifically a girl, but I had no idea it was this beach. I knew my mom had grown up in Serenity, but not that it was an island. All the loose threads in my life were intertwining finally. All of this had to mean something. I just needed to solve the fucking puzzle.
“What’s Aunt Rose like?”
“She’s nice. I really like her.”
“Dad thinks she’s senile.” Anna dropped her voice as if she was conveying a secret.
“Our father isn’t the best judge of character. I mean, he did marry Colleen, a woman who graduated with honors from Gold Digging U.”
Anna covered up her laugh by clearing her throat. “Don’t say that.”
“She threw away our family photo albums and sold our mother’s jewelry. How can you defend her?”