Awakening

by Jacqueline Brown

  “Still, how do you not want to check it out?” Thomas said.

  “My parents and Gigi told me it was dangerous and not to go in it. I trust them,” I said, wishing we could focus on Luca again. That topic was far pleasanter than this one.

  “What about me?” Thomas said, flashing his mischievous grin.

  “What about you?”

  “They never told me not to go in it,” he said, his expression animated.

  “I’m pretty sure they meant to include you,” I said, feeling irritated at Thomas for not letting this go.

  “It’s so close,” he said.

  The inn was maybe a hundred feet away.

  “I’ll pop my head in for a second. If it’s unsteady I’ll get right out,” he said, as he began moving swiftly toward the inn.

  He didn’t wait for me to respond; he was practically jogging toward the inn. I ran to catch up to him. We were closer to the inn than I’d been in years.

  I grabbed his arm. “Thomas, I’m asking you, as my friend, not to go in there.”

  “What’s that smell?” he said, ignoring my pleas.

  “Old,” I said, standing in front of him, arms folded. “It smells like old.”

  Thomas sniffed. “No, it smells more like rotten eggs.” He sniffed again. “Like sulfur.”

  I inhaled. He was right. I turned toward the inn. My curiosity was now piqued. I remember being this close once before, when I was very young. Trees had grown up around it since then; some were so close they were touching it. One grew from under the porch, bending sharply to reach the sun on the other side. The building was gray, the cedar shakes split and warped.

  From behind us, I heard the pounding of footsteps through the shallow water. I turned. Luca was running to catch up with us. Even Thomas turned and watched him approach.

  “Luca?” I said, surprised.

  “What are you doing?” he said, breathing heavily.

  “Thomas wanted to go into the inn,” I said.

  Luca’s amber eyes stared into mine. “It isn’t safe,” he said.

  Thomas said, “It looks fine from here. Old, but not crumbling. If it feels unsteady, I’ll turn back.”

  “Sometimes you don’t realize something is dangerous until it’s too late,” Luca said, raising his hand to his head and squinting as if in pain.

  “Life is about taking risks,” Thomas said confidently.

  “It’s about taking the right risks, not the wrong ones,” Luca said. “And going in there is the wrong risk.” He winced again.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Luca.

  “A headache,” he responded, his face turning pale.

  Thomas approached Luca and said, “You aren’t feeling well. Siena should take you to your house. I’ll be right there once I get a look inside.” He turned toward the inn.

  I said, “He’s right, Luca. Let me take you home. You don’t look well at all.”

  “I’ll be okay,” he said, and stepped forward to try and block Thomas.

  Thomas moved easily past him, and Luca stumbled yet continued after him, his body growing noticeably weaker by the moment. The ground beneath us turned from rocks to green moss and wisps of grass. We were now beyond where the tide reached.

  “That smell is really strong,” I said, pulling my shirt collar over my nose.

  “I wonder if something’s dead in there,” Thomas said, moving quickly toward the building.

  A chill ran up my spine.

  “Please,” Luca said, reaching out for Thomas, but missing. He fell to the ground and vomited.

  I screamed.

  Luca was on the ground, lying flat on his stomach, the bright green moss a stark contrast to his now yellow-tinged skin.

  “Thomas, help me,” I shouted as I tried to roll Luca to his side. He was barely conscious.

  I turned to Thomas. He was climbing to the front door through the wreckage of the porch. He didn’t turn.

  “Thomas,” I yelled again. “Thomas!”

  At last he turned and blinked, as if he’d forgotten I was there. He turned back to the inn, then to me, appearing torn on what he should do.

  “Give me your phone,” I demanded.

  He hesitated, then pulled it from his pocket and threw it to me. I clicked it on. There were dozens of text messages from dozens of people. I tried my best to ignore the words on the screen: “How’s the rich girl?” was the one I couldn’t ignore.

  I blinked, clicked on the phone app, and dialed Gigi’s number.

  She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello,” she said tentatively, not recognizing Thomas’s number.

  “Gigi, it’s me. I’m at the beach. Luca got sick and passed out.”

  “Did he eat anything?” she asked with concern.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, staring down at Luca. “His face is so pale.”

  “I’ll call Sam and we’ll get to you,” Gigi said, and the phone became silent. I tossed it back to Thomas.

  “Cars can’t get down here. We need to move him toward home,” I said. “Help me lift him.”

  Thomas came beside me and yanked one of Luca’s arms.

  “Be gentle with him,” I screamed, overcome with fear.

  Thomas groaned as he lifted Luca’s shoulders while I held his legs. He was dead weight; his head flopped backward. If he tried to vomit again, he’d suffocate.

  “This isn’t working,” I said, breathing heavily.

  We set Luca down.

  Thomas stretched his back. “Let’s take him to the water. Maybe it will help him.”

  We both groaned when we lifted Luca, carrying him toward the waves. The icy water hit my ankles and then my calves.

  “This is far enough,” I said as I set Luca’s legs down into the water. Thomas propped Luca’s shoulders and head on a rock to keep them dry.

  “I’ll stay with him,” I said. “Run up the trail and see if anyone is coming to help.”

  “Okay,” Thomas said, sprinting toward the trail.

  I knelt beside Luca, the waves rising and falling around us. I used saltwater to rinse the vomit from his face. I hoped the coldness of the water was not causing him pain.

  He groaned.

  “Thank you!” I uttered to the heavens when he moved his head.

  He opened his eyes and groaned again. I realized the sun was too bright for him. I used my hand to make a shadow on his face.

  “You can open your eyes now,” I said softly.

  He opened them. “Siena?”

  “Yes, it’s me. You’re at the beach. You passed out,” I said.

  He sat up. “Passed out?” He turned his head slowly from side to side.

  “You weren’t feeling well. You said you had a headache. Then you vomited and fell to the ground.”

  He turned, focusing on the inn. “Your boyfriend was going into the inn, and I was trying to stop him.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, but yes, you were trying to stop him.”

  “Did he go in?” Luca asked with concern.

  “No,” I said. “He went to the trail to try and get help.”

  Luca took a breath, then pushed himself into a sitting position and slowly stood up.

  “Are you okay to stand?” I asked, my arms held out in case he fell.

  “I’m okay,” he said. “Nothing a shower won’t fix.”

  His voice showed his exhaustion. We were both drenched, with sand falling in wet clumps from the clothes clinging to our bodies.

  “Can I get your net and pole?” I asked.

  He turned toward the beach where he’d left them, by the smooth ocean log. The tide would not reach them there.

  “I’ll get them later,” he said as he slowly trudged away from the water.

  I kept my arms extended, afraid he might fall forward or backward at any given moment. With every step his balance improved. After many slow, deliberate steps, we reached the spot where Thomas and I were having a picnic a few minutes before. How strange it seemed, when I realized that.

/>   “Have some lemonade,” I said. “The sugar will help you.” I gave him the glass I’d been drinking from and poured some more lemonade.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking it from me. His hands were shaking as he lifted it to his lips.

  “Do you think you can make it up the trail?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said, and handed me the empty cup.

  I quickly packed the picnic items. I didn’t want Thomas to have any excuse for coming back down to the beach. His fascination with the inn was too much to deal with today.

  I kept one hand on Luca and the other carried the picnic basket and blanket.

  “Does that happen often?” I asked, wondering if Luca had a medical condition.

  “No,” he said, his voice still weak.

  Even so, it seemed there was more he wanted to say, but didn’t.

  After a few minutes, Sam and Thomas appeared on the trail, sprinting toward us.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asked, running to us and placing her hands tenderly on Luca’s arms.

  “I need a shower and maybe some lunch,” Luca said, placing an arm around his aunt.

  “What happened? Siena, are you okay?” she said, wrapping her arm around Luca and noticing I was also soaked.

  I answered, “I’m fine. I went in the water with Luca, hoping it would help him.”

  “You two are soaked,” Lisieux said as she emerged in front of us.

  “Oh good, he’s not dead,” Avi said, coming from behind Lisieux. “Gigi, he’s not dead!” Avi yelled up the trail to Gigi, who was moving as quickly as she could.

  “How wonderful, though I never thought he was,” Gigi said as she came into sight.

  “What happened?” Avi asked, touching my dripping clothes.

  “Yes,” Sam said, “what did happen?”

  “We were walking along,” Thomas said. “Luca came behind us and then vomited and passed out.”

  “He had a headache first,” I added, unsure of what details mattered.

  Luca said, “It came on really quick.”

  “Where were you?” Sam asked.

  “On the beach,” Thomas said, “near the inn.”

  “The inn?” Sam said with curiosity.

  “I felt fine when I was fishing,” Luca said, his voice sounding tired.

  “It definitely came on fast,” I said, “because if he’d been feeling that bad, he never could have caught up with us.”

  “It’s a blessing he wasn’t in the water when he passed out,” Thomas said, “or he could have drowned.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that!” I exclaimed. I looked at Thomas and saw the concern in his eyes.

  “It was probably low blood sugar,” Sam said, practically pulling Luca away from me in her attempt to separate him from us. “I told him to eat lunch before he left, but he didn’t. I’ll get him home and feed him, and he’ll be fine.”

  Luca stumbled forward; he was still weak. He leaned on Sam as they walked slowly in front of us.

  “You were near the inn,” Gigi said, though it was clear it was more of a question than a statement.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Thomas said. “I’ve always been interested in old buildings.”

  “I see,” she said.

  “Actually, Luca was trying to stop him from going into it,” I said, my conscience becoming too loud to brush aside.

  In front of me, I noticed Sam squeeze Luca’s arm.

  “What about you, Siena, were you going with Thomas into the inn?”

  Gigi’s tone was unmistakable. She was trying to keep her voice calm, but this was the tone that sent us scurrying for our rooms to avoid the impending wrath. My sisters both scooted forward to walk with Sam and Luca, as if it were some sort of random choice they were both making, instead of what they were actually doing—fleeing from Gigi.

  “No,” I said timidly.

  “Then you were watching as he entered?” she said, her tone no less acidic.

  “N-no, I was trying to stop him,” I said, wishing I had something else to say. I didn’t want to betray Thomas.

  “Thomas,” Gigi said, “why did you attempt to go into a place on our property where my granddaughter told you not to go?”

  “I, ah … I guess curiosity got the better of me,” he said, not understanding how threatening her tone was.

  “Do you not remember what curiosity did to the cat?” she said, glaring up at him.

  How he didn’t crumble or burst into tears, I didn’t understand. Her stares were far more frightening than Medusa’s could’ve ever been.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Cameron. I was going to be careful and not enter the building if it looked dangerous,” Thomas responded.

  “Looks can be deceiving, Thomas. So very deceiving,” Gigi said, and if words could kill, Thomas would have fallen down dead where he stood.

  No one dared speak after that. When we came to the split in the trail, Sam and Luca said goodbye as the rest of us continued on.

  At the kitchen door, Gigi said, “Goodbye, Thomas. Siena is going into the house now. Tell your parents, hello. Siena, in the house.”

  She held the door open for me. A part of me thought I should argue with her. I was seventeen; I had the right to say goodbye to a boy and take my time doing it, but I didn’t argue. I was soaking wet and wanted nothing more than to take a shower.

  “Okay, Mrs. Cameron,” Thomas said timidly. “I’ll text you later, Siena.”

  I didn’t say anything, only entered the house before Gigi could say anything more to him or me. I raced up the stairs, tears of frustration stinging my eyes. I could not remember the last time Gigi had spoken to anyone like that, and for her to speak to a boy I was friends with, a boy I maybe even liked, was beyond humiliating.

  In my bathroom I stripped the damp jeans and shirt from my body and turned on the water. I waited until I felt the bathroom warm up, pulled the shower curtain open, and stepped inside. The steam filled the bathroom as my hands pushed shampoo through my hair. The soapy water dripped down my body, covering my feet. My drain was slow; it always was. Dad blamed my long hair and the conditioner clogging it, but the truth was the plumbing was as old as the house.

  My mind wandered, flying above our property. I saw our house, the grand mansion it was. My mind flew over the trees, out to the cove, next to the inn. Its smell made me gag. I inhaled the scent of my lavender shampoo to cover the memory.

  I was glad Luca came up to us, glad he passed out, even, if it meant keeping Thomas and me from going one foot closer to the inn. I did not know what had happened there—as Luca had asked—or if it was haunted—as Lisieux had suggested—but something was very wrong with that place. The words came to me: rotting death. That was the best description for the smell: rotting death.

  Nine

  I turned off the shower, grateful to be free of the sticky saltwater and sand. The fluffy yellow towel warmed my body.

  I pulled a soft brush through my wet hair, barely managing to tame the largest of the tangles. The rest I’d get out when it dried. I slipped on a pair of running pants and a baggy sweatshirt. I picked up my wet beach clothes and headed for the laundry room, off the kitchen.

  Halfway down the staircase I heard voices below echoing up the stone walls. I paused. It was Sam, talking with Gigi. If others were there, they weren’t speaking. I slowed down, telling myself I was not eavesdropping, merely taking the opportunity to not race down the stairs, something my father and Gigi were always telling us not to do.

  “You believe that?” Gigi said with concern.

  “It’s more than a belief. It’s a truth I’ve felt for myself,” Sam responded, her voice void of the joyful tone it typically carried.

  “You’re the same?” Gigi asked.

  “Yes, and my sister too,” she said, her voice sounding heartbroken.

  “There’s more?” Gigi asked.

  There was a pause. I wondered what their expressions looked like. I wondered what they were talking about.

  Sam said, �
�She didn’t handle her gifts—if that’s what they are—the right way.”

  “The right way?” Gigi said.

  “I’m sorry, Gemma. I love you, but that’s one topic I won’t discuss.”

  Sam’s voice was so serious, so intense, and so sad at the same time, I wouldn’t have known it was her if I hadn’t heard her speak the moment before.

  I blinked. I’d stopped moving. I tiptoed back up the stairs and forced my face to look normal, like I hadn’t been listening to their conversation. I waited a moment longer, then loudly made my way down the steps, as I always did.

  “Oh, hi,” I said when I reached the kitchen. “I was taking these clothes to the laundry.”

  Neither responded. Each of them glanced at me, barely. They weren’t interested in me; they were interested in what they were discussing. What was that?

  “How’s Luca?” I asked, pausing, not sure if I should move closer to the kitchen table where they sat. Sam’s expression was cheerful, forced, and fake—Gigi’s was none of those.

  Sam answered, “He’s all right. I fed him before I came up here, and he was going to shower. He’ll probably be napping by the time I get home.”

  “What’s wrong with him? I mean … why did he pass out?” What was the polite way to ask such a question?

  “Low blood sugar,” she said. “He and I are the same. We both have low blood sugar,” she said with a forced smile.

  “He should be more careful,” I said, playing along with the lie. “Can I go check on him?” Maybe Luca would tell me the truth or maybe he’d give away enough of the truth and I could figure out the rest.

  “Not today,” Sam said, standing. “He needs to rest. I’m sure he’d be up for it tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll come down tomorrow,” I said, turning to go to the laundry room.

  “Siena,” she called after me.

  I turned to face Sam.

  “Be careful at the beach. There’s a lot there that can hurt you. Bye, Gemma, thanks for the blueberry tea.” She let herself out.

  I dropped my clothes in the utility sink and came back to the kitchen. “What did she mean?” I asked Gigi, who was staring absently at the closed door.

  She took a sip of tea and then said, “It’s confusing, and we’ve had enough confusion for one day. You should put those clothes in the wash before they start to smell.”