‘Um, Tristan,’ I say, my voice quivering slightly. ‘Can we start with being friends please?’
He pulls his gaze back to mine and gives me a quizzical look. He doesn’t say anything else but I feel obligated to explain.
‘It’s just that I hardly know you really. I can’t remember much about living in Aylburton and I’d like to get to know you first…’
My voice trails off and I’m not entirely sure how to end the sentence, but Tristan spares me from having to and nods.
‘So, what do you want to know?’
‘Well, everything, I guess, like, what’s your favorite color -’
‘Silver.’
‘- And your favorite food -’
‘Sushi.’
‘- and do you have any bad habits?’
‘What do you mean by bad habits?’
‘Like do you snore?’ I immediately blush and curse myself for saying the first thing that comes to mind.
Tristan grins at me.
‘I’m not really sure. I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.’
My face flames, he laughs and takes my hand in his again.
‘You’re so pretty when you blush,’ he says, ‘but I understand. I can’t say it’ll be easy, but I guess we can take it slow – for now.’
I relax slightly and nod.
‘Why don’t you tell me a bit about what you’ve been up to these past few years?’
We spend the rest of the day talking; about school, Tristan’s job in his mother’s law firm, South Africa and my parents. By the time he stands to leave, I feel like we are that much closer to being friends.
More, I can’t promise. He’s a great guy, both inside and out from what I’ve seen thus far, and every time I look into his eyes, every time he touches me, I feel the attraction humming through my veins, but marriage is a big step; one I’m not willing to even consider yet.
Tristan says goodbye and leaves me standing on the porch, watching as his silver Beamer disappears around the bend. When he is gone from sight, I look at my wrist scar. It’s no longer tingling the way it does when Tristan is near, but it’s still alive with energy.
My eyes are drawn down the length of the garden hedge and toward the room next door where I saw the light on again last night. I glimpse a slight movement as the curtain falls back into place, then I turn and go inside.
Chapter 18
Broken
Tastes like: Uncooked Christmas turkey
Smells like: Sour milk
Sounds like: Crying
Feels like: Jagged glass
Looks like: A shattered window
I’m stoked as Kael walks up the drive, pushing a bicycle on either side of him. For over a week, I’ve been cooped up, in Nan’s house, Kael’s car or class. I’m dying to get some exercise and fresh air and the prospect of meeting other Maor my age intrigues me. I don’t wait for Kael to reach me; I skip down the steps and meet him halfway across the garden.
‘I’ve adjusted the height,’ Kael says, a tiny smile lifting the side of his mouth. ‘Just try it out and see if it’s okay.’ He holds the bike steady for me to mount, nods in satisfaction, mounts his own bicycle and pushes off down the road. I follow, enjoying the beat of the sun on my back and the rush of the breeze through my hair.
The group Kent has assembled at the Memorial hall is about twenty large. It’s more than I expected considering the size of this town. When Kael introduces me to the others, I feel like a spectacle. It’s obvious they’ve been told about me. I want to shake them out of their awed expressions.
There is a fair amount of banter as we wait for a few latecomers, but I don’t participate. I sink into the background and watch, hoping they’ll forget I’m there. Kael greets a few people, but also seems to prefer being a spectator. He wheels his bike next to mine and whispers:
‘You okay?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘I just wish they wouldn’t stare at me like that.’
He laughs a little and the sound makes my wrist flare.
‘You’re kind of the main attraction today.’
I twist my ponytail into a tight spiral and frown at him.
‘I don’t know why, I mean, there’s nothing special about me.’
He shakes his head.
‘All our lives, the prophecy has been preached to us. We’ve been told that one day, someone will come to save us, to restore what was once ours. Don’t tell them you’re not special.’
I want to argue, but Kael turns away, like he is annoyed with me. My gaze shifts to the Maor youth, who have clustered in twos and threes, donning helmets and chattering amiably as they prepare to ride. Some are still casting furtive glances my way, but the majority has lost interest. They probably think I’m a snob, but that’s better than being the centre of attention.
Kent moves to the front of the group and starts pedaling. The rest of the group falls in behind him and we split off into two pentathlons. I move into the back pentathlon, but it’s not long before they leave me behind. While I cycle often, I’m not used to the country terrain.
Kael keeps time with me, just a few meters behind. It doesn’t matter that we’re not with the group. I feel safe and oddly content knowing that he is here with me. My muscles begin to relax and warm, and after a while, I loosen my grip on the hand-bars and take my eyes off the ground ahead.
The scents and scenes of the forest surround me and fill me up. I start thinking of words to describe what I see. Bright colors, beauty, life. My feet move against the pedals to the rhythm of my heart-beat. The breeze caresses my bare arms, face and neck and I hear the whirr of the spokes as they slice through the crisp air. For the first time in weeks, I feel free.
One minute I’m thinking of the word ‘abundance’, the next, I’m somersaulting through the air. Instinctively, I put my hands out to soften the landing but as my palms connect with the earth, something snaps and fire shoots up from my right wrist to my shoulder. I cry out and collapse onto my back on the ground, clutching my arm.
‘Don’t move,’ Kael says. Within seconds he is kneeling over me. He reaches for my arm but I wince and pull away. The pain is sending waves of nausea pulsing through me. If I move, I’m going to puke.
‘Let me look at it. Otherwise I can’t help you,’ Kael says.
His words penetrate the haze and I shut my eyes and force myself to remain still as he runs his hands from my shoulder to my wrist. When his fingers press on my wrist-bone, my eyes fly open and I suck in a quick breath.
‘Your wrist is broken,’ Kael says.
‘No kidding,’ I gasp and try to pull my hand out of his grasp. If he doesn’t let go, I’m going to puke.
‘Stop trying to pull away, you’ll just make it worse. Trust me.’
He releases the pressure on my wrist and I breathe, but then I feel his fingers rubbing small circles over the inside of my arm. I gag and try to pull away again, but that just puts coals onto my wrist. Now there are dark spots swimming in front of me and bitter bile at the back of my throat.
‘Stop, please,’ I choke, ‘I’m going to pass out.’
Kael lets go of my arm. His face looks concerned and confused as he rummages in his back-pack and pulls out a bottle of Energade.
‘Drink this.’
I shake my head and keep my mouth tightly closed. If I open it, I’m definitely going to puke.
‘You must,’ Kael insists, ‘it will make you feel better.’
He puts the bottle to my lips and squeezes some blue liquid into my mouth. The minute it hits my tongue, I wrench my head to the side and heave. Kael pulls my ponytail away and rubs my back gently until my stomach is empty and I am aching all over.
‘We need to get you home,’ he says.
I don’t know how he’s going to accomplish that feat. We’re in the middle of a bicycle trail, away from any roads or people. Quite frankly, I don’t care how he’s going to get me home, just as long as he doesn’t expect me to be conscious. I just care about my arm. I want to cut it off right
now. I want to pass out. Anything is better than this fire.
Kael tucks my injured wrist against my chest and lifts me into his arms. I lay my head against his shoulder, take short, panting breaths, close my eyes and pray for oblivion.
God hears my prayer, because when I open my eyes again, Kael is standing with me in his arms, on the front porch of Nan’s house. He doesn’t ring the bell, just shoulders the door open and carries me straight into the kitchen, where Nan sits at the counter. She turns toward us, her eyes widen and she scrambles from the chair.
‘What happened?’ she demands as Kael deposits me gently on the counter top.
‘I’m fine, Nan,’ I say weakly, even though I want to scream in agony.
‘She fell off her bicycle,’ Kael interjects, ‘broke her wrist by the looks of it.’
‘Oh,’ Nan frowns at Kael. ‘But why didn’t you –‘
‘It’s not working.’
She looks puzzled but Kael gestures impatiently toward me and she turns her attention to my hand, now swollen and beginning to turn a rather unhealthy shade of purple.
‘Let’s have a look.’ She takes the injured appendage in her hands and begins to rub small circles on my inner arm, the same way Kael did. I bite my bottom lip and try to keep still but when her fingers begin to increase the pressure; I yelp and grab my hand away.
‘Are you two trying to kill me?’ I cry. ‘It’s broken. Rubbing it is not helping!’
Nan and Kael both frown at me and then share a perplexed look.
‘I don’t think it’s broken, dear.’ Nan’s brow is still creased as she turns her attention back to my throbbing hand. ‘I think it’s just cracked. Kael, would you mind getting the first aid kit, please? It’s under the staircase.’
Kael disappears from the kitchen and returns with a white box with a large green cross displayed on the lid. The box is caked with dust and I’m sure hasn’t been used in decades. He flicks the rusty lock and the hinges actually creek as he opens it. Thankfully, the contents are sealed in separate wrappings, and he pulls out two clean bandages.
Nan takes the bandages and proceeds to wrap my wrist with one, before using the other triangular white slip of material to secure my arm in a sling against my chest. She opens the cabinet beside my head and pulls out four jars of herbs. They look like the kind that grows next door on the porch and in Nan’s back garden.
Nan measures out a small quantity of each and crushes them with an old fashioned mortar and pestle, releasing the scents of basil, cilantro and rosemary amongst others that I don’t recognize. She pours the dry mixture into a mug, adds boiling water and a dash of honey, and holds it out to me.
‘Drink this, it will dull the pain.’
I eye the mug dubiously.
‘Trust me,’ Nan says.
I take the mug from her with my uninjured hand and sip the concoction gingerly. It doesn’t taste half as bad as I expected, so I gulp down the rest.
‘Good, now go upstairs and rest a while. The medicine will make you drowsy.’
I hesitate, glance from Kael to Nan, and exit the kitchen. The medicine is already taking effect; I’m bone tired and just want to lay my head down on my soft pillow and forget the throbbing in my arm. As I mount the staircase, I hear Kael’s hushed voice from the kitchen.
‘Why isn’t it working?’
Chapter 19
Attraction
Tastes like: A trail of Smarties
Smells like: Apple and cinnamon pie
Sounds like: The sweet melody of a violin
Feels like: Two magnets pulling together
Looks like: Children gathered around a pet shop window
Kael eyes my sling as I climb into the truck Monday morning. I don’t know what he’s thinking; he looks both angry and guilty at once, but I can’t think of a reason for him to be either. It was an accident. One that still hurts like hell, but an accident, and the only person responsible is me. Why am I so clumsy? Why wasn’t I watching the ground?
‘How’s your wrist?’ he asks as I ease myself into the seat.
‘It’s a little better.’
‘Sure you don’t want to stay home today?’
‘No, really, I’m fine,’ I insist, as I fumble with the safety belt. Kael reaches over me, pulls the belt across my body, and clips it firmly in place. His hand brushes my arm, sending hot shivers down to my wrist, but then he leans back, starts the engine and eases the truck into the road.
‘Did Tanya’s herbs work?’ Kael asks.
‘I guess,’ I say, ‘it’s a lot less painful.
‘Did she check it again?’
‘Yes, she bandaged it again for me.’
‘So it’s still cracked then?’
I give Kael an ‘are you joking’ glare but he is watching the road ahead, jaw working in that unique way of his.
‘Of course it’s still cracked, it happened yesterday. These things take weeks to heal.’
He says nothing and keeps his eyes on the road ahead.
‘Alright, what did I do wrong?’ I demand. I’m sick of walking on egg-shells around him. Kael turns his head toward me for a second and gives me a surprised look.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re obviously pissed at me, and I don’t have a clue why.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Oh come on! You’ve been grumpy and irritable every morning since I got here, or is that just your normal personality?’
Kael gives me a lob-sided grin.
‘Maybe it is,’ he says.
‘Oh please, I’ve seen you -’
A sudden wave of pain slams into my head like a truck. I clutch my temple with my free hand, stop speaking and gasp.
‘What is it?’ Kael immediately asks in an alarmed voice. I don’t answer, I can’t. I breathe in deeply and try to regain my equilibrium. The pain seems to be increasing as the car moves. ‘Shaylee, are you okay?’ Kael asks again.
The car swerves to the road side and screeches to a halt. I close my eyes against the nausea and feel Kael’s hands on my arms, on my cheeks, on my temples. His fingers move in circles, like they did on my cracked wrist, and like then, I want to scream. Does he really think rubbing my temples is going to make it better?
‘Please, stop,’ I choke. I move one hand to my stomach. Along with the nausea, there is a light burning sensation over my butterfly marking, but it’s mild compared to the drumming in my head.
‘Bloody hell,’ Kael swears. He lets go of me and the car moves again. I force my eyes open and see that he is making a u-turn. I want to stop him, but the agony at my temples makes it impossible to speak.
Kael puts his foot flat on the accelerator. As the car moves, I expect my nausea to increase again, but it does the opposite. The closer we get to Nan’s the better I feel, and by the time we reach Nan’s driveway, the pain is nothing but a hazy dream.
‘I’m fine now, Kael,’ I say. ‘The pain is gone.’
He looks at me, runs his gaze over me, and shakes his head.
‘What the hell was that?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘It was this intense pain in my head, but now it’s gone.’
‘Has it happened before?’
I remember the night of my dream, waking up screaming, but I don’t want to get into that now.
‘No,’ I say.
The front door opens and Nan comes hurrying out. Her expression is fearful as she crosses the lawn toward us. Kael climbs out and comes around to help me out of the car.
‘What’s wrong?’ Nan asks when she reaches the car. ‘Is it your arm?’
She runs her gaze down the length of me and when she seems satisfied that I’m still in one piece, she looks at Kael with a question.
‘She’s okay now, Tanya,’ he says, ‘but let’s go inside and we’ll explain.’
He slips his arm around my back and guides me across the lawn, into the house and onto the chaise in the front room. Nan follows us inside and perches in the arm
chair opposite.
‘What happened?’ she asks.
‘I don’t really know,’ I say. ‘One minute I was fine, and the next, it was like someone stuck a knife in my head.’
‘Did you -’ Nan starts, looking at Kael but he interrupts her.
‘Yes, but nothing. Again.’
Nan and Kael share another of their conspiratory looks.
‘So it just went away on its own?’ Nan asks.
‘Yes, it kind of faded as we got closer to home. It’s completely gone now,’ I say.
‘Hmm.’ Kael and Nan both stare at me, like I’m a puzzle that needs putting together, but they don’t say anything more.
‘I’m really okay now,’ I say, ‘I can go to school.’
‘No way,’ Kael says and Nan agrees.
‘You need to rest today, Bluebell. I’ll go make you something to drink.’
‘I’ll keep you company today,’ Kael says as Nan exits the room.
‘Oh, I don’t want you to miss school,’ I say hastily but he shakes his head and gives me a lob-sided grin.
‘You’ll be doing me a favor. I’ve got a quiz today.’
‘But won’t you get in trouble?’
‘No,’ he says simply.
Nan walks back into the room before I can ask how he will excuse his absence. She hands me a mug of something steaming and I smell sage, mint and dill. I lift the mug to my lips and honey, thick and sweet, fills my mouth, concealing the bitter herbs that Nan has crushed into the tea.
‘Good,’ she says as I slowly sip the mixture. ‘You’d better stay on that chaise, Bluebell; the potion will make you drowsy. I’ve got to go out now but I’ll be back this afternoon, will you be okay?’
‘Of course,’ I say, ‘really, Nan, you don’t need to worry.’
She frowns at me, and then gives Kael a stern look.
‘Call me if anything happens.’
‘Yes,’ he agrees.
Nan gives me a kiss on the cheek, and then leaves the room. A moment later, I hear the front door click shut. I look at Kael.
‘How about a card game?’ he suggests. His jaw is working again and his leg is bouncing but I doubt he’s aware of it. Could it be that he’s just as nervous about being alone with me as I am?
Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) Page 11