She hadn’t considered that. What if she ignored the fairy and it all turned out to be real? Then, she would have really cursed her parents. If they got hurt, it would be all her fault.
“Sarah, I need an answer.”
Her mind reached for a response, but she only stared at Nettle with a blank expression.
The fairy shook her head. “It’s your choice but you’re putting your parents in danger. I’ll come for you later tonight.” She flew back to the windowsill and stood there, tapping her foot.
“Are you going to let me out or not?”
“Oh, right.” Sarah walked across to the window and opened it. Nettle stepped back out into the cold.
“Tonight,” she warned. “You don’t have a choice but to trust me.” With those words, the fairy flew away into the darkness. Sarah stood staring out the window, looking after the trail of dust.
“What am I doing?” she asked herself.
Her memory relapsed nine years into the past. Suddenly, she was back in that white room and hands were clasped around her neck. She couldn’t breathe and everything was closing in on her. Those green eyes were looking down at her. Sarah’s heart drummed in her chest, and she began to feel light-headed. She fell back onto her bed.
Her eyes fell to the floor. Breathe. Breathe. She rested her gaze on one spot – the spot at the corner of her bed where something was poking out into the light. She grabbed the book from the dusty shadows. In elegant writing the words, Peter and Wendy were scrawled across the burnt battered cover. Sarah stared at the book; she hadn’t read it since that day. She only kept it as a reminder.
She flipped through the pages and found a few sentences of her own young handwriting on the last page. “I promise one day I’m going to go on an adventure, like Wendy and Peter. And we’re going to beat all the bad men and save the day.” The words left her lips with familiarity. She remembered when she had written that promise, how she had written similar promises in all her books. Hadn’t she once had a love for adventure? Hadn’t she once wanted to be the hero of her own tale? She caught her reflection in the window. She looked at the book cover with Peter Pan and Wendy soaring through the sky.
Sarah closed the book. She heard her mother call her down for dinner and her father’s truck pull up by the house. Everything was so familiar.
Sarah was quiet at dinner. She ate, washed up and went to bed. Well, she lay in bed is the better way to describe it. The girl knew what she had to do. She had no choice; she couldn’t hurt her parents again, especially her mother. Sarah didn’t think she would ever forgive herself if she did. No, it was best to nip this thing in the bud right now instead of letting it grow and fester.
“Sarah?” A light knock. She climbed from her bed and opened the window. Nettle flew in with dust trailing behind her and landed on Sarah's nose. She crossed her arms and glared.
“What?” Sarah asked.
Nettle stomped her feet.
“Ouch!”
“I can't believe you aren't ready! Did I not tell you, you would have to leave tonight?” the fairy barked.
“You did.” Sarah sat back on the bed. “But I’m not going.”
Nettle’s wings stopped mid flutter. “What? But she is ready for you now!”
“Who is she?” Sarah asked.
“Come look.” Nettle flew out the window and turned toward the forest. Sarah followed her and placed her head out into the evening air. She gasped.
Bright orange flames spiraled from the woods and penetrated the sky while singed fall leaves took to the wind, caressing Sarah’s face. Her words were low and cautious. “What is that?”
Nettle smirked. “It’s the dragon Solar.”
“The same dragon from that night?” She turned to the fairy who ignored her question and watched the flames. The spiral grew brighter.
Nettle looked alert. “Pack your things now. I'll wait for you out here.”
“No,” Sarah said and stepped back from the window.
“Are you crazy?” Nettle shrieked. “You are putting not only my world but your—“
“None of this is real,” Sarah whispered. “If I go with you now it’s only a step closer to my mother sending me away. I can’t play pretend anymore. I’m too old.”
The fairy froze. Her bright translucent wings became dull.
“You’re not here,” Sarah said. “That dragon isn’t here either. I’m seeing it all and I don’t want to see it anymore.”
“Sarah.” Nettle looked up, her eyes wide with pleading. “You have to—“
She brought the window frame crashing down. The fairy stumbled out of the way just in time. She looked through the glass at Sarah. The girl looked back at her before closing her eyes and shaking her head.
“I’m going to get better. None of this is real. I’m seeing it all, hearing it all.” She grasped the windowsill tightly. “My family and my friend are real. I don’t need my imaginary friends anymore. Not anymore.”
She opened her eyes. Nettle was gone. She lifted the window and looked outside. There was no spiraling fire. Everything was quiet.
“Sarah?” her father called to her from downstairs. “Is everything all right up there? The wind was blowing, nearly knocked the house over.”
Sarah smiled, still looking outside at the peaceful night. “Yes, everything is fine now.”
Chapter 7
October was almost over and Thanksgiving Break was only a month away. Sarah was delighted at the thought of the holiday. Not only did it mean a week off school but it meant a house warm from a constant burning fire and filled with smells of sweet potatoes and syrup.
It would be a small meal since there would only be three people in attendance but that didn’t stop her mother from making it grand. Sarah would help her mother base the turkey, bake the bread, boil the greens and season the ham. She would go with her father into the mountains—though her mother protested until she was red in the face—to see the different birds the morning of Thanksgiving as they always did. As a family, in the evening, they would sit around the oven with wild burning flames while her father told stories from when he was a child.
These thoughts teased Sarah as she walked home from school, her mind already taking a vacation.
Jacob pulled at her hair.
“Ouch,” she said and reached up to pull at his short brown strands. He smiled at her and grabbed her hand.
“You’re so quiet,” he said swinging her hand in his.
“I’m usually quiet,” she replied staring at the ground.
“True, but you had a big smile on your face. What were you thinking about?” he asked and let her hand slip from his grasp. Her own lingered.
“Thanksgiving,” she said.
He laughed. “Are you already filling up your plate? October’s not even over yet.”
“I like having time off from school to be with my family,” she said with a shrug.
The smile faded from Jacob’s face. He looked up at the fall sky. “You really care about your family?”
She nodded. “Of course, they’re all I got. My family...and you now, at least.” She had been brave, allowing the words to leave out of her mouth before she could withdraw them into her mind. She waited for a reaction, watching him from the corner of her eye. He continued to look forward.
“So, does that mean I have you, too?” he asked.
Sarah’s heart leapt. She turned to him, ready to scream “yes!”, but the look on his face stopped her parade. Suddenly, Jacob seemed faded. His brown eyes had lost their shine and darkened to the color of ash. His shoulders were slack and his hair was listless. Like the sky he had become gray.
“Jake.” Sarah reached out and touched his shoulders. He looked at her yet his eyes did not seem to register her.
She smiled. “Of course, you’ve got me. You’re my best friend. My only friend.”
He grinned and his appearance seemed to brighten a little. “You’re lucky, Sarah,” he said. “My family isn’t like yours. We
’re not much like a family at all.”
She shrugged. “My family’s not perfect, either. That’s why people need friends.” She squeezed his shoulder.
He grabbed her hand again and this time he held it all the way home.
“I have bad news,” her father said as he finished his plate. He pulled back his chair and rested his hands on the table. “The boss wants us to work during the holidays.”
Sarah’s fork paused mid-motion. She stared at her father, her mouth hanging open.
“What?” her mother said, her short brown hair nearly standing on end. “But the holidays are the only time you ever get off. You nearly missed Sarah’s birth thanks to that job.”
“That job, also, puts food on the table, Lucille,” he remarked to her pointedly.
She wrinkled her nose.
“I still don’t like it,” she said. “Thanksgiving is the only holiday we can actually celebrate as a family. Christmas...” Her voice drifted off.
Sarah knew what she was going to say. Christmas was too expensive. During Christmas, stores would mark their prices up, and Sarah’s parents couldn’t afford to buy her gifts. They would decorate, have dinner and cut down a tree. There usually were never any presents. If there were, they were hand-me downs from neighbors.
Her father would always become very sad during Christmas. Sarah remembered being small and asking her mother why Daddy didn’t smile during the holiday. Her mother would never give her a real answer, but she realized as she got older that her father felt like a failure: a man who couldn’t provide properly for his family.
Sarah looked at him. Solemn, yet strong, he would never be a failure in her eyes.
She leaned across the table. “You can just get off early, right, Daddy?” Sarah asked. “That way you’ll be able to go bird watching and can still be home for dinner.”
Her father shook his head.
“Boss said no special requests. I’ll be in early and out late.”
Sarah could hardly believe her ears. “What about the stories? You always tell stories after Thanksgiving dinner.” She forced a smile, holding onto one last piece of hope.
Her father stood from the table, slower than a few years ago. He walked over to Sarah and patted her head. “Not this year, sweetheart,” he said and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She rested against the small pouch he had for a stomach.
“I really like your stories, Daddy.” Sarah tried to hold back the whining in her voice.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I know. There’s always next year, all right?”
Her mother began to clear the table. “Well, maybe this year we should cancel Thanksgiving.”
“Lucille,” he said turning to her, “you can’t cancel Thanksgiving.”
She put her hands on her waist. “I’m the one that does all the cooking, so, I can cancel it if I want. It’s a family holiday, and there is no point in celebrating if we’re not all together.”
“I’ll help you cook, Mama!” Sarah jumped from her seat. “I’ll do three times what I did last year. Promise. Please!” She clasped her hands together.
Her mother shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sarah. A family should celebrate together. Like your father said there’s always next year.” She turned her back on them and started washing the dishes. The conversation was over.
Sarah looked up at her father. He sighed and smoothed a hand over his face. “I think I’ll head up early,” he said. “You do what you want, Lucille. Night, Sarah.” He kissed his daughter on the forehead again and went up the stairs.
Sarah watched him go until he disappeared down the dark hallway. She looked back at her mother who was washing the dishes in silence.
She played with her red hair but didn’t leave the kitchen. “Mama, I –”
“I said no, Sarah. Go on,” her mother barked without even looking back at her daughter.
“But, Thanksg –”
“Don’t make me repeat myself again.” She glanced back at Sarah, her eyes round in warning. The words were heavy with restraint and warning.
Sarah said nothing else and walked up to her bedroom. Once the door had been closed and locked, she pulled the stone from under her floorboard and fell onto her bed. She cried into her pillow as she held the stone against her chest. She was shaking so hard from her tears, Sarah thought she’d never fall asleep, but soon the stone warmed her body and her father’s announcement turned into a memory. Sleep found her. For the first time in months, Sarah went to bed feeling alone.
Sarah and Jacob walked through the school doors, chatting away as they always did. Even though Jacob couldn’t really be considered the new kid anymore, he still drew everyone’s attention. He walked down the hall and was greeted by a parade of “hello”s, smiles, and waves while Sarah stood next to him, thankful for the shield of invisibility he placed around her. Usually, she’d be too wrapped up in their conversation to notice much else. But today something was different. Today the halls were decorated with posters for the winter dance.
Jacob’s eyes slid over the posters. She trailed after his gaze and then looked back at him. He walked with pure confidence, not caring that everyone questioned why he wasted his time with her, the town loony. Sarah often wondered that herself. Still, inside she smiled every time he turned down someone’s request to walk home with them.
“Can I ask you something?” Sarah said as they reached the intersection where they would turn down different ends of the hall.
“Sure. Ask away.” He smiled, but all Sarah saw was another poster hanging behind him.
“I –” Her heart was pounding and she became tongue-tied. “I –” Her mouth clamped shut. “I –” Her tongue suddenly became swollen and her mouth extremely dry.
He eyed her with a grin. “Yeah, Sarah?”
She shook her head. There was no way she would be able to ask him.
“This must be a big question for you to get so nervous,” he commented. “You haven’t been like this with me since we first met.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything.
“I think I know what might help.” He turned away from her for a few moments. Then, he turned back wearing the silliest face Sarah had ever seen. She laughed out loud and held her stomach as her sides began to ache.
“Works every time,” he said. Sarah pinched his side, and he ruffled her hair. She glanced at him, and now it was his turn to laugh.
“I didn’t know we had lions in Montana.” He reached for her again. She stepped away and patted her hair down.
“If you weren’t so tall, I could reach your head,” she remarked and stood on her tippy toes.
He wore a confident smile. “Don’t blame me. You should get taller. Now what did you want to ask me? I’m all ears.”
She tucked her hair behind her own ears and smoothed out her dress.
“I wanted to know if you knew a gal from my class,” she said.
“Who?”
“Her name is Elaine. Blonde with blue eyes and pretty dresses,” Sarah said hating to admit the truth.
“We’ve talked a few times. Why?” He turned to Sarah. She looked away holding tightly on to her book bag straps.
“I think she likes you.” She refused to meet his eyes.
“Hmmm, you think so?”
Sarah nodded. “I thought I’d let you know in case you wanted to take someone to the dance. She would say yes. Might make choosing easier.”
“Hm, that’s nice.” There was silence. “Did you want to go, Sarah?”
She bit her lip in a weak attempt to hold back a smile. “I guess I would like to. I’ve never been to a dance before.” She suddenly became very conscious of her still tangled hair and began to comb it with her fingers.
He leaned close to her. “Then, we should go.” His smile was so sweet and genuine Sarah had to clutch her teeth together to stop from bouncing around like an idiot.
“I’ll see you at lunch.”
She nodded and waved. “I’ll be there!�
��
Sarah’s stomach growled but she couldn’t eat. It would be rude to start lunch without Jacob even if he was late.
She turned and looked outside her window. The lawn was filled with her schoolmates, all enjoying their short recess. Some of the girls huddled together whispering to one another, while the boys played baseball on the makeshift field. Among those boys, Jacob was not found.
Sarah stood and pressed her face against the pane. Her friend still remained absent from the crowd.
Could he have gotten in trouble?
It wasn’t uncommon for teachers to hold students in class if they misbehaved.
Sarah sighed and shook her head. She packed up her lunch and placed it in her book bag, before heading out the classroom. The halls were empty. Many of the teachers had probably gone out to enjoy the day, as well, so, Sarah walked through the school unnoticed.
She passed the intersection where she and Jacob departed every morning. She walked down the hall and made a small right to a classroom tucked away in a corner. The door was cracked open. She raised her hand to push it aside and step in the classroom but her body froze.
Her eyes locked on Jacob and Elaine. They became glassy as a burning started behind them and every love-struck butterfly in her stomach died.
Elaine was so beautiful. With her blonde hair and store-bought dresses, she almost looked like a princess and Jacob was her knight. She had her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands clutched her shoulders while their lips met in the middle.
Trembles started in Sarah’s hands. Then, her lips began to quiver like she was a baby, and her heartbeat was like a burning coal in her chest. She didn’t mean to lean on the door but the pain was weighing her down.
She clutched her raised hand into a fist, and as she did, the door leaned forward. A terrible creaking noise followed then, Jacob and Elaine looked up.
The burning became a seething heat behind her eyes. There was a small weep that escaped her quivering lips before tears slid down her cheeks.
Jacob stepped toward Sarah. The school bell rang. A rapid energy burst into her, and before she knew it, she was running out the back door as her peers filed in from the side. She ran down the hill and across to the forest. The sky had darkened.
The Pariah Child & the Ever-Giving Stone Page 6