by M. Leighton
The holy men divined that the oracle would be bestowed with a portion of the knowledge of Arma and Arinna, the two fallen angels. They also divined that she would be able to see the second nature of the children of the sun and the moon. She would be very powerful, possessing the ability to harness their abilities. It was foretold that she would be surrounded by the influence of both darkness and light, and that her struggles would be many, as she alone would hold the power to bring peace to a world of supernatural creatures, but only through great strength and great sacrifice.
It was with immeasurable sadness that the holy men wrote of the child’s difficulties, which were to be many, and her choices, which were to be most trying, so much so that the holy men became concerned that any one person could carry such a burden. It was with abundant care and immense consideration that the Order of the Druidic Soothsayers voted in favor of intervention.
And so they intervened.
In the earliest part of 2000 BC, the Order used their considerable collective magic to place a charm on the ‘answer,’ one that would draw to her a helpmate, someone whose soul the ‘answer’ would bond to for all eternity. His perfect love of her would enable the ‘answer’ to suppress the powers of those she encountered. Her helpmate would provide her with calm and solace like nothing else in life, enabling her to resist being consumed by the overwhelming intensity of raw power.
But nature demanded that balance be maintained, so the Order was forced to place another enchantment on the ‘answer,’ one that would draw to her another person, another of nature’s most powerful creatures. This second person would be able to set free the darkness in others, unleashing monsters in every corner of Two Lakes and threatening the life-force of the ‘answer’.
Upon the death of the last member of the Order, there was no indication that the ‘answer’ had been born. The dying Druidic holy man maintained until his last breath, however, that she would come. He believed she would mature in an eclipse, just as she was fashioned in an eclipse, and that she would save humanity from the monsters of both the day and of the night.
I didn’t read the passages aloud to Lacey, partly because she was busy taking in every detail about her own affliction and partly because I wasn’t sure what to make of what I was reading. I had more questions than anything, although I strongly suspected that at least a portion of my questions would be answered. Was that because I was an oracle? Was it possible that I was ‘the answer’ that had been foretold?
It sounded insane to take any of what I was reading seriously, but in light of the things I’d seen in the last week or so, it seemed perfectly reasonable that I would give credence to something so farfetched. In fact, truth be told, it didn’t even seem that outlandish to me. How crazy is that?
With a gentle creak, I closed the cover of the book, leaning back in my chair to ponder what I’d learned. I’d been staring, unseeing, at Lacey for several minutes before I really took note of her appearance. She was pale as a ghost and I could see her chin trembling as if she were fighting back tears.
I leaned forward in my chair, stretching my arm across the table to wiggle the book in which she was completely absorbed.
“What is it, Lace?”
Her eyes snapped up to me as if I’d startled her and I saw that they were brimming with unshed tears.
“I’m a monster,” came her soft, tortured whisper.
“What?” I asked, a bit alarmed about what she might’ve read to make her think that. “Of course you’re not a monster, Lacey. Why would you even say that?”
“According to this, I’ll hurt people, Peyton. Maybe even kill them. Without even trying. Without even thinking about it really. I’m not safe for boys to be around. I’ll have to spend the rest of my life alone.”
I was speechless, mainly because from what little I’d been enlightened to about a succubus, she was right. She could very well hurt someone without meaning to, without even realizing that they were in danger. That being the case, what could I say? How could I console her?
Adopting my most encouraging smile, I did my best to comfort my friend. “Hey, we’ll find a way to make it all right, Lace. I won’t let either of us rest until we do.”
“You won’t have to worry about that. I don’t see me resting ever again,” she moaned dramatically.
“You? The school’s biggest sleepyhead? Yeah, right,” I teased with a wry grin.
“I’m not a sleepyhead. I just need more beauty rest than most people.”
“That’s probably true, simply because you’re more beautiful than most people,” I stated. And I was being sincere. While Lacey wasn’t in possession of the typical Californian Barbie looks either, she was stunning just the same. Only a blind idiot would argue that.
Her eyes glistened wetly when she smiled at me. “You’re the best friend a girl could ever ask for.”
“Nah. I’m just a good actress. I secretly can’t stand you.”
She laughed and I sighed inwardly, glad that it seemed the worst of the storm was over. For the moment anyway.
CHAPTER NINE
As a community, Two Lakes was really into football. Friday night games were a pretty big deal and no one missed them. No one. I could remember the homecoming game my freshman year when an entire family showed up from a wake. A wake! They were even still in their funeral finery. It was more than a little disturbing to behold. That’s when I realized that the people I’d grown up with could take things to an unhealthy extreme.
As for me, I attended the games religiously because Trace played. And Brady, of course, but mainly to watch Trace. I suppose I’d have gotten dragged there anyway, even if I didn’t have a somewhat personal investment in the outcome. Lacey wouldn’t have let me skip one. If I even hinted at not wanting to go, she freaked out.
This was one of those nights.
“What do you mean you don’t really feel like going? That’s no excuse.”
I snorted. “It should be. When did it become mandatory to go to every Two Lakes football game?”
“Since forever!”
“I know and it’s ridiculous. It’s like a compulsion. It’s like the entire town has to gather in the stadium once a week or…what? They’ll miss something? I mean, what’s the big deal? Seriously.”
“We have team spirit. What’s wrong with that?”
It was Lacey’s blind allegiance to the ritual that caused the first pang of suspicion to strike a nerve somewhere along my spine. What was so important about the games? Why was there one literally every single week, at home? That was bizarre in and of itself. And why did everyone but me feel frantic about attending all of them? I mean, these people didn’t miss a game for anything. Literally. Not even death. It was beyond fanatical. It was insane.
Or was it something else?
I walked around the bed and perched beside Lacey where she sat on the end, dressed in all her black and white Timberwolves game gear.
“Lace, do you even like football? I mean, really like football? Why do you love the games so much?”
“Um, Brady. Duh,” Lacey responded quickly.
“So you go to watch Brady?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that what I just said?”
“Don’t you find it a little odd that there is a Friday night football game every single Friday night, all year long?”
Lacey shrugged. “I don’t guess.”
“I’ve never heard of people who love football so much that they have senior leagues and summer leagues just so there will be a game every week. Don’t you think that’s a little odd? And the fact that we’ve never had an away game? It’s like everyone has to congregate in that spot every single week.”
She shrugged again, but this time the look on her face was less casual. “I’ve never really thought about it.” She paused for a moment, her brow wrinkling lightly in thought. But it passed. She visibly shook it off and recovered. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s what we do. Just go with it. Enjoy it. You don’t have to insect everything you kn
ow.”
“Do you mean inspect or dissect? Pick one, because it’s not ‘insect’.”
“Whichever. You pick,” she ordered absently with a wave of her hand. “Just get ready so we can go. We’ll probably miss the coin toss as it is.”
“Heaven forbid,” I muttered as I headed to my closet to slip into my black-and-white Brady Giles jersey.
********
As usual, the stands were packed. There always seemed to be the exact number of seats needed. For some reason, the population of Two Lakes never changed much. It seemed that children who grew up in Two Lakes left after graduation, but their “spot” in the community was almost immediately filled by new residents. Then, when those children were grown, they left and the cycle repeated itself. When I considered the truth of the thought, the bizarre nature of it, even in my own head it sounded like a breeding ground. Or a giant recycling bin. It was as though there were only a certain number of people allowed within the boundaries of the community, not one more and not one less.
I’d never really given it much thought until tonight. But now, after seeing what I’d seen, experiencing what I’d experienced and reading what I’d read, I was looking at everything with a paranoid, suspicious eye. And the odd little things about our community—like the stagnant population—were no exception.
“I’m gonna beat you!” Lacey growled over her shoulder at me as we wiggled our way into the stands.
We’d arrived to find the opposing team in possession of the ball on the Timberwolves fifteen yard line and Lacey was not a happy camper. When we’d finally managed to squeeze into a tiny empty space in the bleachers, I spoke.
“It’s not like us being here ten minutes ago would’ve given the Timberwolves the ball. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“You don’t know that. The mystical power of our beauty and grace might’ve been just what the ‘Wolves needed to hold ‘em before they got this far.”
We settled in to watch the game, Lacey cheering wildly along with the rest of the rabid fans. A stroke of luck, which it seemed there was never a shortage of where the Timberwolves were concerned, landed a fumbled ball back in ‘Wolves’ hands. Lacey yelled excitedly when the offense took the field. I couldn’t help but smile. I felt an unusually intense thrill when I saw Trace jog to his position.
The play the coach called was a very effective one. Brady faked handing the ball off to one player then dropped back to throw it long, down the field into the waiting, capable hands of Trace.
Despite his size, Trace could move with incredible speed and agility. I watched, mesmerized, as he caught the ball, tucked it firmly against his chest and then made his way down the field, darting and dodging left and right, until he ran the ball into the end zone for a touchdown.
The crowd erupted and even I found myself on my feet, cheering excitedly. I watched as Trace and the smattering of players nearest him bumped chests and slapped each other’s helmets. Their exuberance could be felt all the way in the stands and I was not immune. My smile was wide when I saw Trace turn and look into the bleachers, his eyes making contact with mine.
From such a distance, it would’ve been easy for any number of other people to think he was looking at them, but I knew he was watching me. I could feel it like a physical caress, warming my cheeks with a flush of pure pleasure. He stopped on the field and the intensity between us grew to the point that I felt short of breath. It seemed all the noise around me faded to a soft hum, easily drowned by the heavy thump of my heartbeat in my ears.
I watched as Trace reached up and unsnapped his chin strap to remove his helmet. He tucked it under his arm as he stood watching me. As if in slow motion, I saw his lips curve into a stunning smile. Then he winked at me, sending a thrill down my spine that exploded in my stomach like fireworks on the fourth of July. For a moment, all the air in the stadium felt trapped inside my lungs, but then he released me, turning his attention back to the game and jogging off the field to the sidelines.
Once the eye contact was broken, reality came rushing back, even though all the noise and cheering was still curiously absent. I looked down at the people below me in the bleachers. Nearly every head was turned in my direction, nearly every eye watching me. I looked left and right to find the same thing. It seemed that everyone had noticed Trace’s display and that they all knew who he was watching.
Of course Lacey noticed, too. And she commented.
“Omigod, Peyton! Did you see that?”
When I met her excited eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“See what? What are you talking about?” I teased.
She playfully slapped my arm, her mouth still slightly agape.
“Looks like someone finally noticed Brady’s little sister is all grown up.”
I glanced quickly around us, embarrassed to find that everyone still watched me, many of them undoubtedly able to hear what Lacey was saying.
Just as embarrassment was setting in, heads began turning back toward the field and whispers broke out. I scanned the sidelines to see what had caught their attention and saw my brother and Trace squaring off against one another. They were about to come to blows.
I didn’t have to hear their conversation to know what they were arguing about. Brady had seen Trace flirting with me. And he didn’t like it one bit.
Several teammates were already in the process of breaking them up when the coach rushed in to put a stop to it. He grabbed each guy by the front of his jersey, pulled them down to his level (which was much lower considering both Brady and Trace’s height) and then he proceeded to give them a red-faced tongue-lashing. Both Brady and Trace appeared duly subdued and contrite, and the game quickly resumed.
Although he did nothing as blatant as what he’d done after that first touchdown, Trace didn’t stop watching me. He seemed unable to keep his eyes out of the stands. Between plays and from the sidelines when the defense was on the field, I felt his gaze. I felt it all through my body, straight down into my soul.
Nearly three full quarters later, as was our habit before the game was over, Lacey and I began making our way out of the stands. We’d long since discovered that it was the best way to avoid getting trampled.
At the bottom of the bleachers, we stopped to stand at the fence and watch the last play of the game, which we always did before hurrying off to get out of the parking lot before it became a huge undertaking. Traffic was insane after a game.
From our lower position, I couldn’t see Trace, so I let my eyes wander around the stadium. When I saw the haze, I wondered that I hadn’t noticed it before. Or felt it.
Just as had been the case at Brady’s party, it seemed there was a shimmering cloud hovering over the heads of every senior in the stadium. Everyone on the Timberwolves team and every fan that was near my age was covered. At least those on the home side of the field, that is. The fog was curiously absent over anyone on the visitor’s side of the stadium. All adults as well.
“Let’s go to the field house and see if we can catch Brady before he showers. I think Chad Manson is having a party at his dad’s cabin tonight. We should all go.”
“What?” I asked distractedly. I had heard her, but I hadn’t heard her.
Lacey grabbed my hand, shaking her head in exasperation. “Come on. I’ll tell you later.”
We made our way to the field house and weaved our way through the crush of bodies there. Lacey managed to signal Brady as he walked by. To her utter delight and my utter frustration, he veered toward her immediately, a pleased smile wreathing his face.
“Are you going to Chad Manson’s lake party?”
“Are you?” Brady countered.
Lacey glanced at me and grinned, looking coyly back to Brady. “We were thinking about it.”
“Why don’t you meet me there then?”
“What time?”
“Eleven?”
“Eleven it is,” Lacey agreed happily.
They stood staring at each other for a few seconds, during which time t
heir desire to kiss was nearly palpable. It was an extremely uncomfortable time for me. I glanced away, rolling my eyes in disgust. My gaze tripped over Trace’s where he stood off to the side of the door, helmet tucked once more under his arm, watching me.
He straightened when our eyes met, as if he were going to approach me. I shook my head. The action was barely perceptible, but I prayed that it was obvious enough to Trace that he would keep his distance. There was no reason to make matters worse between him and Brady.
He frowned, but kept his distance. Thankfully, a few seconds later, Lacey was tugging my arm and guiding me away toward the parking lot. I could feel Trace’s eyes on me as we walked away.
********
Because my best friend is crazy in love with my brother, I found myself sitting in her car along the side of the road. We were parked and hidden by some trees, covertly watching for Brady to arrive at Chad’s party.
“Why can’t we just go in and be waiting for Brady when he gets here?”
“Because, silly, that would make it look like I’m too desperate.”
“I hate to break it to you, Lace, but you are desperate.”
“Yes, but Brady doesn’t need to know that.”
“You realize that Brady’s not Forrest Gump, right? I mean, he’s actually a smart guy. I’d say he already knows.”
“Nah,” she said, shaking her head emphatically. “He’s a guy. He’s obvious by nature. Can’t be helped. It’s the testosterone.”
I giggled. Inwardly, I cringed at both her grammar snafu and her strange take on human biology.
“Whatever you say, Professor.”
“Scarf all you want. It’s the truth. Ask anyone.”
I let the scarf mistake slide, too, figuring it was close enough to scoff that it would take me forever, a dictionary and a piece of paper to explain the difference. Lacey was proof that a good vocabulary did not a smart person make. Unless you were planning to earn a living as an author or an English teacher. In that case, the future wasn’t looking so hot.