While You’re Awake
A Contemporary Sleeping Beauty Story
By Amber Stokes
Copyright
Seasons of a Story Publishing
www.SeasonsofaStory.blogspot.com
Kindle Edition | Copyright © 2015 Amber Christine Stokes
All Rights Reserved.
This novelette is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Actual brand, TV show, band, and song names are used only to set the scene, and no endorsement or copyright infringement is intended.
Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover design: Lena Goldfinch at Stone Lily Book Designs
Cover image: © Golyak | Dreamstime.com
Table of Contents
While You’re Awake
Copyright
Table of Contents
Dedication
1 John 4:18
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Dedication
To my coworkers in Marketing. Thank you for making this new season of my life so wonderful!
And to my Heavenly Father. Thank you for giving me rest and helping me rise again…and again.
1 John 4:18
“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.”
Prologue
There were two things in life I feared above all others.
Bees, and inconveniencing another person.
The latter dread resided deep within me—a calcification built layer by layer, glare by glare, reprimand by reprimand. Little instances that solidified into cold, hard fear. That’s why I didn’t ask for help when the bees came.
It was just last spring. I lived in a small rental home on the edge of town, where the grass grew a little wild because I had never bought a lawn mower and the nearest neighbors weren’t near enough to care.
I liked the solitude. Any freelance editor would. And I was proud to have my own space after several years of rooming with strangers while building up my business.
But the bees found me after only several months of peace.
I had known they would find me, eventually. The kind of knowing that friends mock but always proves true. Maybe a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Still, I wasn’t prepared for the battle that awaited me in my own home.
Chapter 1
Empty. Ava closed the mailbox more firmly than necessary and headed back up the gravel drive. The spring wind blew steadily while the sun shone warm on her uncovered head.
She paused outside the front door, wondering if it wouldn’t be nicer to bring her laptop outside for the remainder of the afternoon. Squinting at the cloudless sky, she shook her head. Too hot. She was bound to get uncomfortable just as she settled in at the picnic table with its scratchy bench and sticky stains. And there could be bugs…
Maybe tomorrow. Today, a glass of orange juice and her soft couch promised to be much more agreeable.
Ava opened the door and shut it behind her with a soft thud—a noise her ears barely registered over an entirely different sort of sound. Her heart pounded as her eyes skimmed the main room.
There. The window facing west writhed. A curtain of black rose and fell as she stood frozen, her back against the door, hands trembling by her sides.
Bees. Dozens of them, climbing and falling and hovering over the inside of the glass. The buzzing was the breathing of a monster, filling up her small place in an angry, desperate fashion.
Clearly the bees wanted out. But she couldn’t set them free. That would require going near them, and not even the pull of morbid curiosity could take her one step in their direction.
A phantom pinch in her finger began to throb.
She couldn’t tell what kind of bees they were. Bumble bees, wasps, honey bees… All she knew was the drone and rumble that threatened to consume her.
A swarm of thoughts flew through her mind. She hadn’t made any friends she could count on in this new place. Her family was too far away to help. She needed every penny to pay for rent and groceries, so a hotel wasn’t an option. And she couldn’t inconvenience the neighbors, even if she knew their number. What if they were allergic?
Nothing made sense, least of all the bees’ presence in the first place. With dismay she realized that she’d have to pass them in order to reach her laptop. No Google, then.
Releasing a belated yelp, she turned and sprinted to her bedroom. After scanning every corner and finding it safe, she slammed the door and locked it tight, unable to hold back the panicked sobs as she slid to the worn carpet.
∞∞∞
The night passed in a state of half-sleep. Ava couldn’t tell when or if the buzzing ended. The sound had etched a track in her memory that played on repeat, so that she couldn’t truly rest. She’d kept the lights on but still startled fully awake every time she thought she saw a shadow zip across the ceiling. And now she stood by the bedroom door, shaking and praying and hoping that it was all a nightmare.
Sweat glued her wrinkled jeans to her legs as she opened the door and took a tentative step forward. Her gaze went straight to the window. A littering of black lined the sill and floor.
She breathed out and took another step. Nothing moved.
She shuffled across the expanse of carpet until she stood over the open grave of bee carcasses. Too gentle-looking to be wasps. Too small to be bumble bees. Of course they had to be honey bees.
A twinge of guilt set her forefinger to throbbing again. If she were braver, she could have released them all last night. Out where they belonged. Far away from her.
But she wasn’t brave, especially not when it came to bees.
Bzz. She shrieked and scrambled backward, falling on her backside and scooting several inches.
The sound paused and then started again, and she realized it was her phone vibrating in the purse she had dropped by the couch last night. Just my phone, she reassured herself. Just my phone.
She stood on shaky legs and fished the device out of her purse. “Hello?” Her voice came out no louder than a throaty whisper.
“Ava?”
“Mom.” Ava slumped onto a cushy chair, keeping a wary eye on the black specks a few feet away.
“Is everything all right? You never called back last night.”
“I—”
“I mean, I hoped you were doing something fun for your birthday. Were you?”
Her foot shook as she tried to think how to answer that question. “It was pretty typical, until later in the day…”
“Oh?” The word rose in tone as her mom held it out. “Did you go out with some friends?” She sounded so hopeful that Ava cringed.
Now that Ava was 26 years old, her mom shouldn’t be quite so worried about her only daughter’s social life.
“No, nothing like that.” She swallowed, hating how loud the action sounded in the hollow house. “It’s just…” How much should she say? The phone grew hot next to her ear.
“Hello? Are you still there?”
“Yeah. I just had a bug pr—”
“Oh!” The word came fast, breaking up Ava’s explanation. “I’m sorry, but Veronica’s at the door. We’re going to a book signing at the library, and we still have to grab dinner.”
Ava heard the faint click of a door being unlocked and her mom’s exuberant greeting of her long-time friend. Then, “I still want to hear about your birthday. Can
I call you later?”
“Sure.”
A pause. “You got my card, right?”
“Yep.” Complete with a gift card to the garden store. But as much as Ava loved flowers, she didn’t think she’d be planting any anytime soon. Not if it might bring more bees. “Thanks. The card’s very pretty. And I appreciate the gift.”
“Good.” One word, but her mom’s smile sounded clearly through it. “Talk later!”
“Okay. Bye.”
Ava cradled the warm phone in her hand, staring at the screen until it blackened and she was faced with her own frightened reflection. With a start, she dropped the device to her lap and lifted her gaze to the battlefield.
Standing on unsteady legs, she headed to the laundry room in the back of the house and wheeled out the vacuum. With a whir of air and a greedy gulp, the vacuum swallowed up the bees.
Without a moment of waste, she unclipped the storage container, released the bees into a plastic bag, and took the bag outside to the large trash can. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she settled the lid over the remnants of her nightmare. She wasn’t sure which emotion brought about the reaction: shame, sorrow, or the fear that this wasn’t the end.
∞∞∞
The bees returned as most trials do—one by one, one right after the other. And it was perhaps worse that way, for Ava never knew when she would awake to a bee crawling on the window or return home to one resting on the ceiling. The sight of its fuzzy narrow body, like an arrow pointing straight for her mind, never failed to send her heart into crazy spins.
But she learned to live with the endless torture, as she had learned to live with the boy in her third-grade class who had found great pleasure in stealing her books and holding them for ransom. And the homesickness that haunted her at boarding school throughout her preteen and early teen years. And the loneliness that still hadn’t abated despite her fulfilling work.
She had always found it grimly fascinating how people could adapt to anything when it became an unavoidable part of their reality. And these bees…they had chosen her, left behind some sort of trail for their friends to follow.
She had taken to swatting them, unable to function until she knew one wasn’t hovering over her head. Despite taking out the danger, though, she couldn’t find peace. Not when more bees would come.
After disposing of the latest unwanted guest on a particularly sunny spring day, she packed up her laptop, grabbed her purse, and ran to the car. She might not have much money to spare, but today was a coffee day if ever there were one. Designer coffee—the kind that would soothe her with sugary comfort and a sense of belonging with other artist types that frequented coffee shops.
Ava didn’t turn on the radio or push in a CD as she made the twenty-minute drive into the heart of town. She kept the windows rolled up tight and allowed a few tears to escape. Several deadlines approached in rapid succession, and her progress the past week had been too minimal. Each night seemed to offer less sleep. What would she do if she couldn’t complete her clients’ projects?
She eventually pulled into the parking lot of Coffee by Angels, the local café owned by the Angel family. Cars filled most of the spaces, reminding Ava that it was a weekday afternoon, and thus the place would be loud and busy. The mental image of a swarming hive came to mind, but she shook her head and swung her laptop case and purse over her shoulder.
Once inside, she stood frozen, momentarily paralyzed by the activity. Couples flirting. Writers typing. Friends chatting. Employees mopping and fixing drinks and calling names.
Taking a deep breath, Ava zeroed in on an empty table for two at the far end of the shop. Her head ached with the weight of her sleepless nights and the nagging feeling that everyone else in this building—and the whole world, really—knew how to get things done and have fun while they were at it. With one another. She slid onto the cushioned chair with a sigh and stared for a while at the empty seat across from her.
Standing up once again, she put her laptop bag on the extra chair and set up the computer on her side of the table, plugging it into the wall and turning it on. While she waited for it to bring up her home page, she grabbed her purse and wove through the crossed legs and backpacks lining the narrow path to the counter.
“I’ll have a large dark chocolate mochaccino,” she told the lady at the register.
“Name?”
“Ava.” An annoying buzzing sound entered her ears, and she automatically raised a hand in defense. She whipped her head from left to right, but no bees appeared to be nearby.
With a start, she met the confused gaze of the barista. “Are you all right?” the woman asked, her hand hovering over the cash register.
“Yeah,” Ava breathed, even as a voice in her mind taunted, Far from it. “How much was that again?”
The barista shot off a number, and Ava pulled a few bills out of her wallet. After she got her receipt, she once again shuffled through the maze of tables, chairs, and thirsty people and plopped into her own seat.
I’m all right. Coffee’s coming. And I’m not stuck at home alone with the bees. She reassured herself with positive thoughts as she typed in her password and pulled up the most urgent project. Words were cut and lines reshaped as the seconds ticked on—one by one, one right after the other.
And while she worked, she studiously avoided glancing up at the unoccupied chair.
Chapter 2
Keegan swirled some whipped cream over the mochaccino, sprinkled a few mini chocolate chips over top, and took a moment to smile down at the full cup, satisfied with his handiwork. Lifting his head, he called, “Ava?”
A few moments passed. No one stood up. No one peered at him in question.
“Ava?” he tried again, a little louder.
Still no response.
“Hey, Mary, do you know which one Ava is?” he asked his coworker at the register, tilting his head to the crowded room.
Mary finished writing something on a receipt and then scoured the room. “There.” She pointed to a table in the back by the windows. A girl with red hair pulled into a ponytail sat there, her eyes glued to the screen in front of her and her fingers appearing to tap across the keyboard.
“Thanks.” With a nod to Mary, he scooped the mug into his hands and carried it across the room. When he felt he was within earshot, he called her name. “Ava?”
The girl jerked upright. Bloodshot blue eyes met his, widened slightly in seeming panic. This Ava needed coffee pronto. He offered her a sympathetic grin as he set the mug next to her laptop. “Here’s your mochaccino.”
Her returning smile was weak, but kind. “Thanks.”
Wanting to put a little blush in her pale cheeks, he winked. “Sure thing.”
Her gaze dropped before he could be rewarded for his efforts. With a one-shoulder shrug, he pivoted and took a few steps back to the front.
A shriek and crash nearly sent him sprawling over some woman’s book bag. He caught himself and turned to find Tired Girl on the floor next to her upended chair. Her head was tipped up toward the ceiling, and he followed her line of sight until he spotted a bee circling her table.
His heart rate slowed. Just a honey bee. No guns.
Bees, he could handle.
Returning to the girl’s table, he leaned over to open the window and shooed the bee out with his hand, grateful it remained within reach. It didn’t take much persuasion for the creature to embrace its freedom.
A smattering of amused applause followed the click of the window locking into place. Keegan immediately turned to Tired Girl.
Ah, there was the blush he’d been expecting.
The startled customers returned to their coffee and conversation while he knelt down next to Ava and offered her his hand. “You okay?”
She winced, and his brows dipped in response. Was she in pain, or just embarrassed? “I’m all right.” But her haunted eyes told a different story.
After a moment, she gripped his hand and they stood together. He scooted ar
ound her to set the chair to rights but looked back in time to catch her rubbing the back of her head.
“Do you need some ice?”
She shook her head, her eyes closed tight.
Convincing.
Keegan put a hand on Tired Girl’s shoulder and nudged her into the righted chair. “I’ll be back with ice and some Advil.”
Her eyes stayed closed as he hurried off. When he returned, her elbows were settled on the table space in front of her laptop and her head rested in her palms.
“Ti—Ava.” Close one. He really ought to stop nicknaming people in his head.
She peeled her hands away from her face and looked up at him. Red marks from her hands appeared on her forehead and cheeks—but it was the way she squinted at him that gave him pause. He offered the ice to her. Was it her exhaustion or some sort of head injury that caused her to take her time in grabbing the cold Ziploc bag full of ice?
He made a humming sound low in his throat. This girl needed rest, potential concussion or otherwise. He pocketed the Advil he held in his other hand, not sure she ought to have painkillers just yet.
Before he could say or suggest anything, she gave him a half smile. “I’m really sorry about the fuss I made. I just—bees aren’t really my favorite.” The half-hearted smile vanished. “Thank you for coming to my rescue. And for the ice.” She held up the bag in a sort of salute, then placed it over a spot on the back of her head and turned to her laptop.
Nope. She wasn’t going to get away with that measly brush-off.
After a quick glance behind him to make sure Mary and Fay weren’t swamped at the counter, he grabbed Ava’s laptop bag out of the chair across from her, set it on the floor, and sat down.
Her gaze shot to his over the open lid of her laptop. Wisps of hair framed her scrunched eyebrows and the almost elegant arch of her nose.
Keegan scooted his chair in closer and leaned his elbows on the wrought iron table. Resting his chin on his clasped hands, he said in the gentle voice he usually reserved for friends of his grandmother, “I think it might be best if you got your head checked.”
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