The Travelers: Book One

by Tate, Sennah

  Gemma chuckled to herself as her new friend left to head home. The day had gotten off to a rocky start, but Izzy was the bright spot. The spunky bartender gave Gemma hope that she would be able to make friends and actually have a social life in this town. With the prospect of a night on the town on her mind, she was able to fall asleep in her new home without much difficulty.

  The next morning she slept in, dreading the task of continuing to unpack. Piles of boxes reminded her of the frequent moves she’d had as a child. Shuffled around from one side of town to another, living with different family members for bouts of weeks or months, only to have everything packed up and moved again.

  By the time she was in elementary school, Gemma managed to keep all of her belongings in a back pack. It wasn’t until middle school — her third school in two years — that she had a teacher that saw what she was going through.

  Miss Jones was the most kind-hearted person that Gemma had ever met. When everything else in her life was turmoil, Gemma always knew that there was a place for her at Miss Jones’ house. The music teacher went above and beyond, giving Gemma rides to and from school even as her family continued their nomadic lifestyle, just so Gemma didn’t have to transfer schools again.

  It was Miss Jones that first gave Gemma a taste of what a stable life could be like and it was Miss Jones that inspired her to teach. She wanted to be able to help other children the way she was helped. She didn’t want another kid to fall through the cracks like she had for so long.

  Groaning, she rolled over, trying to block the bright sunlight from streaming through her still curtainless windows.

  “Okay, okay, I’m up,” she muttered to herself. Reluctantly, she pulled her tired body out of the beckoning warmth of her bed and trudged her way into the kitchen for a caffeine boost.

  A quick glance out the kitchen window while her coffee brewed showed a gentle breeze playing through the quiet streets. Gemma expected her neighbors to be out and about after the welcome she’d received the previous day, but the sun was already rising high into the sky and most of the elderly residents were likely seeking refuge inside from the baking rays.

  She thought that this might be her chance to get acquainted with the layout of the neighborhood without interruption…maybe. It was probably wishful thinking, but she got dressed and took her coffee along for a mid-morning walk.

  Tall skinny pine trees and sturdy oaks alike swayed in the breeze that rolled down the sidewalk. The temperature may have been well into the 90s already, but with the little breeze and the lack of moisture in the air, Gemma found it downright refreshing.

  Sharp palmetto blades struck out through chain-link fences angling for her ankles. The concrete underfoot was bleached and cracked from years of the Sun’s abuse. Being in a small town was definitely a new experience for her; Florida was notoriously bad at keeping up with weather damage to streets, but at least in the city things were maintained to a certain standard. As she rounded the corner, Gemma could see places were the asphalt of the road was completely eroded away to expose the original brick streets underneath.

  She liked the little bit of character that came from neglect. Hannaford Glen felt lived in and loved. Tampa had always felt abused, like the city never really wanted those people in it but they fought to stay anyway.

  Not wanting to stray too far from home, she just circled the block, passing right by Mrs. Kruft’s home. Eustis was in the front yard, wagging his tail wildly. Gemma took a quick glance around to see if the old woman was anywhere to be seen before she bent to give the scruffy dog a scratch on the head.

  “No offense, but your mom is crazy. I’m not going to stick around to say ‘hi’,” she said to the dog as he licked her hand oblivious to her words.

  “See ya later, buddy. Stay out of my yard, okay?” She said with a final scratch behind the ears. She didn’t want to push her luck; the old lady could emerge from her house at any time and Gemma really wasn’t in the mood to socialize at the moment.

  As she neared her house, Gemma cringed to see a familiar leathery face stapling a flier to the the telephone pole near her stoop: Albert.

  “Good morning, Gemma!” He waved cheerfully, a wide dentured smile splitting his wrinkled face.

  “Morning Albert,” Gemma muttered with a hint of a smile. She didn’t want to be rude, but she didn’t want to get sucked into whatever he was crusading against today.

  “Hey, I know you probably haven’t seen anything yet, but there’s been a car lately that’s speeding through the streets around here. I’d hate for someone to get hurt, so if you see them, could you try to get their license plate or something for me?”

  Gemma sipped her coffee thoughtfully, trying to avoid committing to anything. She nodded without speaking and Albert took that as an agreement.

  “Thank you! I asked the police if they would set up a speed trap around here, but they said they were too busy to worry about what every crazy old man came in raving about,” he frowned for a moment, but quickly shook the melancholy look from his face, replacing it with his usual grin.

  “You don’t say,” Gemma answered, brushing past him to her front steps. “Well, I’ve got a ton of unpacking still to do. Good luck!”

  She slipped back into her house before he had a chance to respond. She had a long day ahead of her and a late start to boot; she couldn’t afford any more delays.

  Before she knew where the day had gone, she looked at the clock and it was already 6:20 PM. Gemma surveyed her house with a satisfied smile. Nearly everything was unpacked and put in its rightful place; it was definitely worth the day of hard work to have her new house feel like home.

  After a few minutes of consideration, Gemma decided to look up the place that Izzy said she worked at. Seeing that they were open until 10 o’clock, she decided to take the plunge and see what this town had to offer.

  A hot shower was just the thing to wash off the layer of grime she’d accumulated while unpacking and to relax her aching muscles. Before 7:00, she was already dressed and busy applying mascara. The drier air of Hannaford Glen did wonders to keep her golden brown hair tame; still she threw it up into a messy bun as she usually did and headed out the door in a pair of curve-hugging jeans and a sparkly tank top.

  Izzy wasn’t lying about being able to walk to work from their neighborhood; the restaurant was only a few blocks away making Gemma feel a little silly for electing to drive there. Regardless, she didn’t know how safe the streets were at night and decided to err on the side of caution.

  “Gemma! You came!” Izzy shouted across the restaurant when she walked in the door.

  Gemma smiled sheepishly and made her way to the bar. Looking around the restaurant, she could see that there were a few tables occupied, but they weren’t busy by any stretch of her imagination.

  “How’s it going, girlie?” Isabel asked as Gemma slid onto a barstool. She was preoccupied with making one of the more complicated cocktails they offered, but she was happy to see the newcomer nonetheless.

  “Good,” Gemma said with a contented sigh, “I finally finished unpacking… I think,” she finished with a grimace.

  “You move fast! I’ve been in my house for three years and I still haven’t finished unpacking,” Izzy joked, pouring the layered drink carefully into the tall glass with a sugared rim.

  “That looks fantastic,” Gemma said, her eyes growing wide at the rainbow-colored drink.

  “Oh yeah, it’s delicious too. Bitch and a half to make right, but people always appreciate good presentation. What can I get you?” She served the tri-colored glass to a woman at the far end of the bar before returning her attention to Gemma who shrugged in response.

  “Um… something fruity?”

  “Not much of a drinker?” Izzy asked, already pulling out various bottles for her new concoction.

  “Just socially, I guess,” she replied with another shrug.

  “Fair enough. I got you, don’t worry,” she answered with a wink before flitting of
f to take another person’s refill order.

  Gemma watched in awe as Izzy flew around the cramped bar area, making a personal connection with every person she served. It was clear that a lot of these people were regulars and Izzy shared an inside joke or two with each of them that Gemma didn’t quite understand; the intended audience always appreciated the jokes with raucous laughter though.

  Isabel was the social butterfly personified. As Gemma sat at the bar on her own sipping the syrupy delight that Izzy served her, she couldn’t help but be a little envious at how easy she made it all look.

  One of the patrons stood from the bar, waving to his compatriots before heading to the door.

  “Hey! You call this a tip?” Izzy called to him waving a couple of singles at him before he reached the exit.

  The middle-aged man turned to the feisty bartender with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  “I’ll give you a tip,” he answered with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

  “Ew. Get out of here old man. And don’t come back until you can pay me for my services!” She teased, waving him off dismissively.

  He chuckled.

  “What services are you offering?”

  Isabel rolled her eyes at his continued attempts to charm her.

  “Nothing you can afford, that’s for sure,” she finished and the man left the restaurant with a shake of his head and a smirk.

  Gemma couldn’t help but giggle a little at the exchange. Izzy obviously knew how to handle people and diffuse a situation — just like a teacher would; what were drunk people other than overgrown children anyway?

  “Who was that?” Gemma asked, nursing her bright pink cocktail. She didn’t know what was in it, but it was delicious.

  Izzy shook her head with another roll of her eyes, “Just a regular. He’s always trying to hit on me.”

  Gemma’s eyes widened.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “Oh god no. No one’s going to want to deal with all of this. Besides, I don’t have the patience for all of that relationship bullshit. I tried it once… it didn’t work out.”

  Gemma frowned, finding it hard to believe that someone as vibrant and vivacious as Izzy had trouble finding someone. Where would that leave an ordinary girl like her?

  “Oh, I’m sorry. But there’s always hope though, right? You never know when the man of your dreams might come along.”

  Izzy’s answering bark of laughter made Gemma jump in her seat.

  “That’s cute, but I’m perfectly fine on my own,” she answered, elbow deep in water as she dunked glass after glass in the disinfecting solution before they headed to the dishwasher.

  Gemma raised a defensive hand, “Okay, okay, you don’t need anyone,” she replied with a grin. Izzy was stubborn, blunt and sarcastic and she loved it.

  “What about you? Got some poor sap waiting for you back in Tampa?”

  “Not a chance. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I had a date. What’s the pool like here, anyway?”

  Isabel shook her head.

  “Don’t even bother. Just a waste of time out here. Everyone has so much baggage; if I didn’t know better I would think that the airlines send us all the stuff they lose the way it piles up in this town. You don’t want to get caught up in small town drama.”

  No, Gemma thought, she certainly didn’t. The thought of going on a date, flirting, maybe even getting a good night kiss didn’t sound totally terrible, but she didn’t know what she would do with an actual relationship. Maybe it was for the best.

  Gemma kept Izzy company through the rest of her shift and after the bar was cleaned and closed down, they headed back to Gemma’s for a cup of coffee and a bit more gossip.

  They sat across from each other at her kitchen table, each taking sips of their drinks in turn. Izzy chose a dark espresso roast today and Gemma opted for a lighter breakfast blend not really wanting to be up all night.

  “So how long have you worked there? It seems like everyone knows you.”

  “Yeah,” Izzy answered, “I’ve been there since high school. Started off as a dishwasher. The owner’s an old drunk, but he loves me like a daughter so I get away with whatever I want and I make pretty decent money for someone actually working in town. Most people that make a living around here have to commute.”

  The new information made Gemma take pause; was she going to be able to find a new job here? What were her prospects really going to be like?

  Sensing her uneasiness, Izzy reached across the table and patted Gemma’s hand for reassurance.

  “Hey, you’re going to be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  Gemma smiled with a nod, but the smile never made it to her eyes. She couldn’t stop thinking that she may have made a terrible mistake in coming here.

  Still, she met Izzy and that in and of itself was worth the move. Izzy was the long-lost best friend that Gemma didn’t even know she was missing.

  “You wanna do this again tomorrow?” Izzy asked while stifling a yawn.

  “Yeah, definitely,” Gemma answered, taking their empty mugs to the sink.

  “All right chica, have a good night.”

  Izzy surprised her with a quick hug before she left Gemma alone in her empty little cottage again.

  Chapter 2

  That was Gemma’s routine for the next couple of weeks. Every morning she went for a walk with her coffee, she said ‘hello’ to Eustis and whichever of her other neighbors were out and about. She began to like the slower pace of Hannaford Glen. In the city she’d gone three years without ever meeting a single one of her neighbors. The sense of community here astounded her and everyone went above and beyond to make her feel welcomed.

  Her friendship with Isabel blossomed, too. Nearly every night that Izzy worked, Gemma went up to Santorini’s to chat, gossip and keep her friend company during the lulls. On Izzy’s days off, they spent the afternoon inside, watching soap operas and drinking wine coolers.

  “Can you believe Henrietta impersonated her twin sister to sleep with her husband?” Izzy asked after a particularly thrilling episode of Days of Young and Beautiful Liars.

  “So crazy! And Genevieve in that train accident! Do you think she’ll live?”

  “I don’t know, I heard they were in negotiations with her contract.”

  “Oh man,” Gemma frowned, “that would suck, she’s one of my favorites!”

  “She’s such a twisted bitch though!”

  “That’s why I love her!” Gemma answered brightly.

  Izzy laughed, polishing off her drink just as her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket and frowned at the screen.

  “What’s up?”

  She didn’t look up from the screen and Gemma couldn’t help but worry about the concerned look on her friend’s face.

  “Oh… nothing. Hey, sorry to dip like this, but I have to go take care of something, okay?”

  Gemma really didn’t like the sound of Izzy’s excuse.

  “Are you sure everything’s all right?”

  “Cross my heart,” Izzy said distractedly as she slipped back into her shoes, frantically typing a response on her phone.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, leaving without giving Gemma their now-customary hug.

  The next day came and went and there was no word from Izzy. Gemma wondered if she should be worried. It didn’t seem like Izzy to ignore her texts, but they really hadn’t known each other long enough for Gemma to be a great judge of that.

  By the second day, Gemma decided to go up to Santorini’s. Whether Izzy was answering her text messages or not, Gemma wanted to make sure her friend was okay.

  Part of her was actually disappointed to see Izzy’s familiar face behind the bar; she was relieved her friend was okay, but hurt that she’d been ignoring her for a couple of days.

  Gemma slid into her normal seat and Izzy made her a drink without saying anything. A strange sensation prickled the back of Gemma’s neck and she couldn’t stop thinking t
hat something was wrong.

  “Hey,” she said, trying to get Izzy’s attention, “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days. Is everything okay?”

  Izzy looked surprised to see her there and shook her head like she was trying to clear it of unwanted thoughts.

  “Yeah. I lost my phone, sorry I didn’t come over yesterday. I was… busy.”

  Gemma nodded, sipping her drink, pretending to believe the story.

  “That’s okay. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right, you know?”

  Izzy smiled and patted Gemma’s hand softly, “Thanks, you’re a good friend.”

  Before Gemma had a chance to respond, someone on the other side of the bar caught Izzy’s attention. Gemma couldn’t make the man out in the dimly-lit restaurant, but Isabel did not seem happy to see him.

  Her jaw instantly clenched into a firm line and her eyebrows drew together in annoyance.

  “Give me a sec,” she said to Gemma, holding up a finger to her friend without ever making eye contact. She never took her eyes off of the man at the other end of the bar.

  It was difficult to hear what they were talking about over the blaring jukebox in the corner, but Izzy was so animated when she spoke that Gemma could easily read what she was saying by hand gestures alone. She didn’t know why it made her so nervous that Izzy was cursing this guy out. The way he stood there and took the abuse without a response made her almost feel bad for the shadowy stranger.

  Finally after a long whispered tirade from Izzy, he tried to speak and she held her hand up to his face, interrupting him.

  “No. I don’t want to hear it,” Gemma heard Izzy say.

  “Get the hell out…”

  She folded her arms across her chest after pointing him toward the door, she didn’t even look at him as he sulked out. Gemma only caught a glimpse of the tall dark-haired stranger as he left.