by A. L. Tyler
Ember tried not to stare as Nan wiped off her chin with the back of her wrist. “Some people think spiders are good luck,” she mumbled absently. “They say a spider hid the Christ child from Herod when he was born.”
Nan leveled her glare on the girl, and Ember suddenly felt three feet shorter. Nan had picked up a butter knife to point as she spoke. “You’re a Christian, girl?”
Ember looked from the knife in her grandmother’s hands to her accusing eyes, and felt the air escape her lungs like it had been sucked out into the vacuum of space. She turned to Thalia.
“We’re a Christian household.” Thalia offered. The way she said it was almost robotic. “Yes!” Ember gushed in relief. “Yes, I’m a Christian.”
Nan contemplated for a moment; her eyes danced around Ember’s face as she pressed the flat of the knife to her lips. Slowly she set it back down on the table. “You’re a liar. Real Christians don’t need permission or prompting. Damn Christians go around telling damn well everyone what they think and who’s right and who’s wrong……”
Nan hoisted herself up from her chair, and grumbled herself into the kitchen to put her dish up in the sink. Ember looked back at Thalia.
“She’s more devout some days than others.” Thalia said quietly, looking at the table.
“The problem,” Nan continued, walking back out into the dining room, “With Christians, is the same as the problem with spiders. You’re going along fine in your life, and then, bam! They drop off the ceiling and scare the crap out of you, you’re swatting them with newspapers to make them go away, and the lucky ones escape out the door. A perfect afternoon of reading is ruined, and your coffee’s all over the damn floor…”
Ember waited until the older woman had ambled up the stairs before turning back to Thalia.
“She doesn’t really think that Christians drop from the ceiling.” Thalia said seriously.
“Are you sure?” Ember asked, raising her eyebrows.
They had just started to smile—both of them, together, for the first time in Ember’s memory—when the back door slammed open.
“Yow!” Gina yelled, grabbing at the door handle as another gust of wind threatened to bounce it off the wall. She kept talking as she turned to shut the door and lock it behind her. “It’s a cold one today, I’m going to have to talk to—“
When their eyes met, Ember felt the fun sweep from the room, like it had gone with the wind out the door. Gina’s eyes glistened momentarily, and then she looked at the floor as she walked into the kitchen.
Ember looked back to Thalia, whose lips had sunken to a sullen frown. “Excuse me,” she whispered, standing and moving toward the stairs.
Gina rinsed off the dishes in the sink, and shut the water off, wringing her hands on the rag that rested over the sink divider. Taking a deep breath, she turned and stared Ember straight in the eye as she walked over to fetch Thalia’s plate and fork. With the plate in hand, she paused, her nostrils flaring slightly, and then turned to go back to the sink.
“Are you going to yell at me?” Ember finally asked.
“It wouldn’t make a difference.” Gina responded levelly. “You’ve got your key. Take it, use it, and enjoy your vacation. You’ve got school again in the fall.”
“I don’t want the key.” Ember said, taking a few steps toward her.
Gina took a few steps back. “And I don’t want you, Ember.”
They both froze. Gina slowly brought her hand to rest on her stomach, and then stood up straight. “It’s neither of our faults. I’m a mother, and I know what that feels like. I feel it with Thalia, and I’ve never felt it for you.”
With the morning sun angling through the window, making both of their faces bright and without shadows, Ember felt exposed. It was like they were standing there, staring at x-rays of each other’s souls.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. What I never had the words for.” Gina continued slowly. “You can’t be my daughter any more than I can be your mother. I wish you no ill, and I hope you have a happy life. But you are not my daughter, and you’ll have to leave. You’ll have to leave the key when you leave, too.”
Ember nodded, and looked at the floor.
“What is it?” Gina demanded.
Feeling much smaller than she was, Ember looked back up, and shrugged. “I won’t have a mother, or a sister. I won’t have a family.”
Gina turned back to the sink, and flicked the knob to turn the water back on, picking up the brush to wipe down Thalia’s breakfast plate. “If you want a family, then be a good person. Finish school, get a job, and live a normal life. You’ll find someone. You’ll have some kids. That’s your family.”
Ember shook her head. “But, I won’t have a legacy. I won’t have a history, or a past—“
“The past doesn’t matter!” Gina snapped, making Ember jump. “You have a future. That’s all that matters. Go and live your life, Ember. That’s what I gave to you, and what I can give to you now: your life.” She paused, gripping the sink as she stared at the bits of oatmeal and toast clinging around the lip of the disposal. “Take it, and go, and be happy. Then we’ll both be happy. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?”
Ember had shut her eyes; her jaw was throbbing. When she realized she was clenching her teeth, she opened her mouth and forced herself to exhale. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Gina was watching her.
“You own the island.” Ember said, surprised at the vehemence in her voice.
Gina turned her back to the sink, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the counter. “That’s what you want? The land? The money?”
Ember continued to glare at her.
“You can have the money.” Gina said, almost too calm. “But the island belongs to Thalia. That’s…already done. It’s legal, and it can’t be changed. But if it’s what you want, I will make it right in my will—take the money and buy your own island.”
“I don’t want my own island!” Ember said through gritted teeth. She felt her shoulders begin to shake as Gina rolled her eyes and licked her lips, crossing her arms as she looked to the floor. Ember’s eyes, meanwhile, were darting around the kitchen, but she didn’t know what she was looking for.
There was nothing there that she could break.
“You need to go now, Ember.” Gina said finally, taking a few steps forward without making any move to touch her daughter. “Come back when you can be mature about this.”
With a sneer she couldn’t suppress, Ember turned and left. She didn’t bother to get a coat; she slammed the door behind her as she stomped from the house and into the wild. It was cold outside, but the heat running in her veins was still too much.
She didn’t go home for lunch that day, and had no intention of going back for dinner. She got lost twice, but eventually found a high point that allowed her to spot the dock that hung off of Main; with her bearings back, she made her way through the thicket, intending to go to The Garden. She didn’t have her wallet, but Zinny would know she had money.
Apparently, everyone knew she had money.
Huffing as the cold air raked her lungs, Ember rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. She had to be the only girl in history to be raised by paid strangers who hadn’t figured out that she was rich.
“Hey, little girl. Want some candy?”
Ember’s heart leapt in shock as she spun around. Isaac was twenty feet behind her and off to the left; he rolled up the magazine he had been reading, and awkwardly rose from the log he had been sitting on. His eyes remained on the needle-strewn ground as he took short, deliberate steps toward her, smiling nervously.
“Isaac.” Ember said as he stopped in front of her. His magazine, an old copy of American Mechanic, was torn and nearly wrinkled and weathered to death, and the sleeves of his brown sweater weren’t in a much better state. Ember frowned as her eyes moved from Isaac’s uncombed hair to his watery eyes, and finally to his pale and dirty feet. His toes stuck out like bleached white
bones from the cuffs of his ripped jeans.
He wasn’t wearing any shoes.
“Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes snapping back to his face. “Isaac, what hap—“
“You shouldn’t be out here.” He mumbled, taking a step back as she moved toward him. He waggled his ratty magazine at her. “You’re supposed to be back at the house. You were out late with Acton. He told me. He tells me everything, tells me—tells me…”
Isaac froze, as if he had heard something in the forest. As Ember stared at him, she saw his face relax, and then his shoulders; it was like watching and ice cream coat melt.
“Isaac!” She lurched forward to catch him as he started to faint, but just before he lost his balance, his leg shot out as if it had a mind of its own. Isaac recovered, and straightened up to face her in one of the most unnatural gestures she had ever seen.
Ember kept her hands on his shoulders, gripping the wide weave on his sweater. “Are you okay?”
Isaac nodded, his eyes staring directly into hers, until he laughed and shook her off.
“I apologize, Em,” he said, tucking the magazine into his back pocket. “I come out here sometimes to be alone with my thoughts. Just me, the island, and a little inspiration.”
“And you don’t wear shoes?” Ember raised her eyebrows. “I mean, Jesus, it’s like fifty degrees out here.”
“Jesus, yeah.” Isaac said with another nervous smile. “And I have low blood pressure—it gets me sometimes when I stand up too quick, as you saw, and the cold doesn’t help.”
“The cold does that?”
“It does.” He said, putting an arm around her shoulders as they started walking again. “You’re going to lose yourself at the Garden tonight?”
“Lose myself?” Ember laughed. “Fancy talk for a car guy.”
“Ember, Ember, Ember, Ember…” He shook his head. “Do you see any cars around here? I like taking things apart, and seeing how they work. The mechanisms beneath the surface are amazing, and biologic mechanisms are the most interesting.”
Ember smiled and nodded. “So you like to sit in nature, and contemplate what makes the universe tick.”
“Or something like that.” Isaac smiled back.
“How very poetic of you.”
“You read poetry?” Isaac asked.
“Only what they assign in school.” Ember confessed. “I think it’s kind of boring. I mean, okay…Emily Dickinson, and Edgar Allan Poe, stuff like that is okay. But most of it I just don’t care for.”
“Emily Dickinson…” Isaac said, taking a step forward and spinning to face her. He pressed his hands together, shutting his eyes in thought. “You like dark things. Emily and Edgar were both fond of graveyards, weren’t they?”
Ember frowned, pushing past him. “They made death seem beautiful.”
His smile never slipping, Isaac followed after her. “If you say so.”
Chapter 6
He walked with her back to town, and just as dark was setting in, they found their way to The Garden. Ember looked at the sign, and sighed; the thought of drinking didn’t bother her anymore. She was beginning to look forward to it.
As they slid through the door, Ember saw Isaac nod to someone across the room. He was already halfway to the bar when Ember spotted Kaylee’s blonde head amidst a group of other girls at a table in the corner. She swung her arms, not sure if she was supposed to follow him or not, until her eyes wandered to the other side of the room.
Acton was sitting at a table alone, staring down at a book on the table, with one hand raised in the air. Just as she saw him, and without looking up, he motioned to her with his raised hand. Ember smiled in relief as she went over.
“You look lonely,” Acton said to his book.
“You haven’t even looked at me,” Ember said, taking the chair across from him.
Acton slowly closed his book, frowning. “I can see loneliness across a room, darling, especially when it’s radiating from Miss Ember Gillespie in visible waves. How have you been?”
Ember had clenched her fists and blushed when he said her name, enunciating each syllable like he was using it as a curse. “I think that pretty well covers it, actually.”
A smile spread across his face as he took her in. “Then you’ve come to the right place. Welcome home.”
Ember smiled, leaning forward in her chair. “So you’re not trying to impress the new girl anymore? What happened to your coat?”
Three glasses slammed down on to the table, and Asher slid into the chair next to her.
“It was destroyed,” Asher grinned, “In an unfortunate gardening accident.”
“A gardening accident?”
Acton scowled. “It was ripped while I was climbing a tree.”
Ember turned back to him. “You climb trees?”
“He does when I’ve stolen, and then hidden, something of value to him in said tree.” Asher said, pulling a glass toward himself with a small, self-satisfied grin.
Ember laughed as Acton glowered. “What did you take?”
“Something he holds very dear.” Asher said with a self-satisfied grin.
“In any case, it doesn’t matter.” Acton cleared his throat. “You’re not wearing the coat I gave you, and that’s a far deeper insult. Did you get the books I left for you?”
The table went quiet; for a moment, Ember wasn’t sure who the question was directed at.
“Books?” She finally asked in a quiet voice.
“Books.” Acton repeated. “You came out yesterday for books, but we unfortunately left the bookstore without you having picked out any. After leaving The Garden last night, a sentimental mood caught me, and I left you a few of my favorites on your doorstep.”
Ember paused; she didn’t remember seeing any books when she had left, but then, she had been upset at the time.
“Perhaps you should look for them when you go back?” Acton offered. “Of course, that won’t be until tomorrow, with any luck.”
She couldn’t help herself and smiled. “I will. Thanks.”
He smiled again, but Ember could tell that he was disappointed. She tried her best to remember, but she still couldn’t see the books on the stoop in her mind’s eye. She had a fantastic memory, and she had walked right out the front door. If there had been books there, she would have seen them.
“Isaac seems to be having some luck tonight,” Asher said, looking across the room.
“He deserves it.” Acton replied back to him, taking a drink.
“What books were they?” Ember suddenly asked. Acton’s gaze slowly turned back to her as he set his glass back on the table.
“Two old collections of Shakespeare’s comedies and tragedies,” he said, shifting in his chair as if she had caught him off guard. “Also, a few of my old paperbacks. Asimov and Heinlein, mostly—just what I had stored in the back room. I felt badly that you almost got locked out, and didn’t even go back with what you came out for.”
Finally reaching for the last glass on the table, Ember thought over her response. Old paperbacks were important to their owners. “Thank you. Thank you very much, Acton. I’ll have to read them, and then maybe we can talk about them.”
“Or not.” Acton shrugged. “Books are personal. They’re not all worth talking about.”
“Science fiction is.” Ember insisted.
“You’re both boring.” Asher said, excusing himself from the table.
“You’re familiar with the authors,” Acton went on, paying him no attention. “Do you like the genre?”
“It’s okay.” Ember said, trying not to sound too excited.
Another slow smile graced Acton’s face. “I agree.”
His expression changed as he caught sight of someone behind her. As Acton sat up a little straighter, Ember twisted around in her seat.
“Ember, this is Joseph.” Acton said in a quieted voice, as though he were telling her a secret. “He’s new to the island, like you. He’s also exceptionally lonely, as you are.
”
Ember looked the stranger over; he was big, and the coat he wore, and his oily, shaggy, overgrown hair added a layer of padding that made him seem more like a bear than a human. His shoes had lost their laces, and he’d fitted them to stay on with straps of duct tape across their tops. That crude but effective solution coupled with the lacerations on his calloused hands made her believe he was either a fisher or a lumberjack.
However, it was his lips she had trouble looking away from. They were too red, and too small for his round face. They were like puckered children’s lips after eating a cherry ice pop. Lips like those had no business on a full grown man.
“Hi, Joseph.” She said with a quick smile, turning uncertainly back to Acton. He had a smug look on his face, and Ember wasn’t sure why he was introducing her to the stranger.
“Joseph needs some company, so he’ll be around some.” Acton explained.
Ember slowly turned back to look at Joseph. He still hadn’t responded to her greeting, and he was staring at Acton with a sort of disgruntled hatred that made Ember uneasy. She sank a little lower in her seat as she turned back to stare at the table.
“Excuse us, Joseph.” Acton said with a wave. “Asher’s around here somewhere. He’ll keep you entertained.”
Ember’s eyes darted up to look at Acton’s face as she heard Joseph shuffle away, and for the first time, she was conscious of the fact that she wasn’t sure if Acton was a trustworthy person.
“Who is he?” She asked, shaking her head as she leaned forward over the table. “He’s old.”
Acton leaned his chair back so that he could bring his ankle up to rest on his knee. He looked down his nose with half-closed eyes to assess Joseph’s back. “He’s sleeping with my mother.”
Ember’s eyes went wide as she turned to look back in the direction that Acton was staring. Asher appeared to be gone, so Joseph had taken up with Isaac and his flock of teenage girls.