“Where are you going?” he asked catching up to me in a few short steps.
“You want your arrow back don’t you?” I asked.
Together we searched through the tall grasses for the misguided arrow. Tanner was, of course, the one to spot the bright red fletching. It had stuck in the dirt just outside the line of trees surrounding the meadow.
“Sorry.”
“No problem.” Tanner wiped the dirt off the arrow head on his pant leg before returning it to the quiver tied around his waist. “Hey, a bunch of us are getting together at the beach on Saturday.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, “for the bonfire.”
Tanner cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve already heard about that? I thought you’d only been here a few days.”
I grinned. “You country kids must be hard up for company. It was practically the first thing out of that girl’s mouth at the grocery store. I think her name was Anne or Amy.”
“Dani,” Tanner corrected. “I should have guessed it was her. She usually meets the new arrivals first. Everybody needs to restock the fridge after moving in, I guess.”
I smiled again. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“So are you going to come?” Tanner asked. “I could give you a ride if you want.”
“I don’t know, Dani seemed willing to show how to get there, too,” I teased.
“She doesn’t even give me a chance,” Tanner said. The breeze flipped a stray piece of hair into my eyes and Tanner reached up to brush it away. His fingertips brushed against my forehead and I literally felt my skin tingle. Tanner looked at his fingers and quickly dropped them, his cheeks turning a shade pinker than before.
My earlier concerns tried to drift back into my mind, but I pushed the unpleasant thoughts away immediately. “A ride would be nice. As long as I don’t have to sit by Evan, that is,” I said. “I think he’s still laughing at me.”
“Evan can drive himself if he can’t behave,” Tanner promised.
By the time we made it back to Tanner’s friends, Evan had managed to calm himself down. “Good try,” Jackson said politely. Evan stifled another chuckle, but managed to keep his hysterical laughter in check this time. Normally I might have stomped away from his childishness with my nose in the air, but here the teasing didn’t really bother me that much. Standing next to Tanner might have been part of the reason for that.
“Shooting like a girl suddenly has new meaning to me,” Evan said. He just couldn’t resist.
It was such a relief to be around people my own age again. Not having my mom hovering overhead, trying to gauge whether I was moving towards well-adjusted quickly enough was a huge relief. I was not sure how I would survive the summer without a few distractions to get me out of the house. Evan’s playful attitude gripped me, and before I thought too much about it, I punched Evan in the shoulder, grinning while I did it.
“Ow,” he exclaimed. He rubbed his shoulder, pretending I had actually done some damage. “She hits better than she shoots at least.” That earned him a punch from Tanner as well. “Alright, alright, it was a good try, Arra. Actually Tanner’s bow is way too big for you. I would have been shocked if you had been able to draw the arrow on your own.”
I turned on Tanner. His grin was his only answer. I smirked, feeling a little foolish, but still happier than I had been in a while. “Well it’s not like I carry around extra bows just in case a pretty girl walks in while we’re practicing,” he said in his defense.
I did not miss the ‘pretty girl’ thrown in so casually. I turned away, hoping he didn’t see me blush. Looking up into the sky I suddenly realized how low the sun had dipped. My mom had been thrilled to see me leave the house, but I knew I would be in for a lecture if I didn’t make it home on time. “What time is it?”
Tanner pulled a cell phone out of his jeans pocket. I was more than a little surprised to see it. I would have bet a week’s allowance that you could not get reception out here in Grainer. Actually my dad had claimed that was the big reason for cancelling my cell phone before we moved. We might have to talk about that tonight. Tanner caught my shocked look and laughed.
“What, you’ve never seen a cell phone either? I would’ve thought you’d have three or four, being from Manhattan and all,” Tanner said.
I completely ignored that comment. “The time?”
“It’s a quarter to six,” he informed me.
“Oh crap,” I said. My mom would be calling dad away from the hospital early if her mopey daughter did not appear in time to help prepare dinner.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson asked.
“Oh, it’s just that I’m supposed to help my mom with dinner tonight.” I looked around the forest, my brow crinkling. Which way was I walking when I ran into these guys? “Um, I’m not even sure where I am. I was just kind of wandering.”
“Go get the targets, guys,” Tanner said to his two friends. Evan grumbled something about doing all the work as he walked away, but he went anyway. “I’ll drive you back if you want.”
“Thanks,” I said, “that would be great.” My mom might not think so, taking rides from strangers and all that, but it was a tossup on which one she would be more mad about, being late and making her think I had died somewhere, or taking a ride from a sweet and good looking gentleman like Tanner. Maybe I could have Tanner drop me off a block away and avoid having to find out. “My mom really freaks out if I’m late.”
Tanner flashed his teeth again. “Well, we can’t have you getting grounded before the bonfire, now can we?”
“You just want to know where I live,” I teased. “I think you might be a stalker.”
“I think you might be the one stalking me.” He pushed me playfully towards his car. “Get in the truck.”
The ride home didn’t last long enough. All too soon my house came into view. The awkward moment between pulling up to my curb and saying goodbye was instantly filled with a few more jabs from Evan. A quick goodbye was all I could get out. And then I was forced to get out and face my mom.
“Where have you been?” she demanded as soon as I stepped through the door. “And whose truck was that?”
I knew I should have had Tanner drop me off a block away.
“Relax, Mom. I was taking a walk in the woods and ran into some guys who live around here.” I consciously decided not to mention the archery lesson. I knew that would trump the ride home with Tanner without a doubt. My mom wouldn’t even carry a pocket knife. When my dad had wanted to get a gun to keep in the apartment in Manhattan, my mom had all but threatened divorce when he mentioned it.
“Guys? What guys?”
“Some boys I’ll be going to school with in the fall. We hung out for a while and they gave me a ride home.” I really hoped my mom would drop the topic. “What are we having for dinner?”
“Arrabella, you know better than to accept rides from strangers,” she said, her stance moving into the nagging mother position.
“Oh good grief, Mom. Give it a rest. You’re the one who wanted me to make friends, remember? There nice guys. One of them lives a few houses down from us. Their names are Tanner, Evan, and Jackson. I’m sure you’ll meet all their parents by the end of the week.” I relaxed a little as I watched my mom’s stance soften.
“You just scared me, that’s all. I’m just not used to being in a small town yet. I still feel like we’re in Manhattan sometimes. I just worry about you.”
I smiled at her. I knew my mom had been the biggest push to move the family out to Grainer. She never felt safe in Manhattan. Having grown up in a small town herself, she just never adjusted to big city life. “So, do you still want some help with dinner?”
Dad was still at the hospital when dinner was finally on the table, but me and my mom enjoyed sharing the meal regardless. Eating without my dad was hardly a new thing, although living in Grainer promised to make it a much less frequent occurrence than usual. That, at least, was something to look forward to. I watched my mom carefully prepare a plate for my dad and place it in the o
ven to keep it warm, just as I had watched her do so many times before. Together we washed the dinner dishes and talked about our day. It felt nice. It felt normal. We had barely talked at all in the past week. Stacking the last dish in the strainer, I kissed my mom’s cheek before excusing myself to my room.
More tired than I realized, I found myself laying on my bed wondering where I had left the novel I’d been reading, but too lazy to get up and really look for it. Opening the nightstand drawer because it was the closest place I could think of, I was startled to find the photos staring back at me. The afternoon out of the house had practically erased my earlier uneasiness. The peculiar eyes in the photos struck me deeply. I could swear that I could feel their eyes on me, watching me and waiting. The unsettling shiver returned immediately.
I had pretty much forgotten about my plan to visit my grandpa, but now I felt like I needed to keep that appointment. Setting the photos back on my nightstand, I could not forget them when I made my way over to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I took my time, but found myself back in bed too quickly. Climbing under a light blanket, thoughts of dying young girls swirled in my mind.
I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. Knowing by now that the dream would come again, I tried to keep my eyes open as long as possible. The problem was that there was nothing up there to hold my attention. Debating about what I could hang on the ceiling that would keep me awake the longest I felt my eyes start to close. Against my wishes, the dim light of the moon faded from my sight and I fell asleep.
Chapter Seven
The raven haired girl’s proud figure grew more distinct as the mist thinned and turned into shifting smoke from two large fire bowls built at the temple’s base. Forced to begin walking by the guards behind her, she trudged up the steps. She counted each step she took in her mind. She counted to keep herself from screaming at the guards and the crowd and Fate itself. She looked at her feet to shield her eyes from the stinging smoke swirling around her body, and struggled to keep from looking at the top of the stone staircase.
It was a morbid desire to look at what awaited her, she knew, but in the end could not keep from giving in. She glanced up to the plateau above her. The billowing smoke barreled down at her, and she knew it came from the great sacrificial altar standing in the center of the mesa. It waited there year round, reminding the city of their commitment to the gods.
At the sight of the smoke her stomach turned and she quickly lowered her head unwilling to face her future. She feared the smoke, but she knew it was the least terrifying item that awaited her at the top of the stone staircase. She kept walking up the steps and watched as the smoke grew larger and the fire that produced it came into view.
Wanting to run back to her small mud brick home, the raven-haired girl looked out into the crowd, hoping for a sympathetic face, but cringed when she saw instead nothing but intense joy in the faces of the crowd. They cheered and jumped and clambered to get closer to her.
Seeing their excitement sent hate rushing through her body, pushing every other feeling away. Straightening herself, she set her mouth in a scowl and glared at each stone step she was forced to tread. The rough stone scraped against her bare feet. She despised the crowd for their cheering. She looked down at them again, though she could not really see their faces anymore, and silently cursed them for the savagery.
When the hate-filled girl looked back towards her destination, the first guard had stopped. She forgot her anger instantly and stiffened in fear. She had reached the end of the stone staircase. There was nowhere to run.
A breeze began to blow, but not even her hair moved as the wind silently carried in a thick mist that enveloped her body.
***
Waking up late in the night, I was barely able to breathe. The raven haired girl’s fear had me nearly paralyzed. The girl from the dream, her face was etched in my memory forever. Sitting up, I tried to blink the image away. I reached for the lamp and switched it on. Soft yellow light spread over the table and blanket.
As my eyes adjusted, they fell on the photos. The face from my dream stared back at me hauntingly. The only thing the faces in the photos were missing was the ceremonial paint that the girl in the dream was forced to wear. The silvery eyes looked the same, but were filled with very different emotions. The happiness in the photos was obvious, but the fear that overshadowed me dulled the emotion and I imagined I could see the desperation behind their smiles.
As I stared at the photos I realized something else that I should have caught right away. The girl from the dream looked no older than either of the girls in the photos. Why? What was happening? Why were all these girls suddenly reaching out to me? Having no answer to my own questions, I laid staring into the shadows.
I tried to understand the fear surrounding me, but I couldn’t even understand what, if anything, was happening to me. I felt as if I was being pulled into something beyond my control. The late night hours stirred my mind and led me to a thousand different conclusions that made very little sense and finally back toward sleep. In the morning I would find some answers. At least, I hoped I would.
Chapter Eight
Walking to my grandfather’s house early the next morning I wondered again if I was making too big a deal about the photos. Based on my parents’ reactions I was sure they would say that I was if I actually tried to explain my fears and theories, but they didn’t know about my dreams. Without the dreams, I probably would have agreed.
Maybe it would all turn out to be nothing, stress from moving or something like that. But if I did not at least try to answer the nagging call I felt when I looked at the pictures of Katie and Maera or thought about the dreams, I would never be rid of the suspicion that had enveloped me.
I took a deep breath and knocked on my grandpa’s door. I really hoped I was not about to make a fool of myself as I watched the door knob turn. Grandpa Alden opened the door, and seeing who was calling on him lit up with joy. He ushered me into his cozy home with hugs and promises of treats regardless of the fact that I had just finished breakfast.
“Arrabella,” he cried, “how are you, darling? I’m so glad you’ve come to visit me. I get lonely around this old house.” Even when talking about his loneliness, my grandpa had a sweet and excited smile on his wizened face. I was sorry that I had not made the effort to come see him before.
Explaining that he had been in the process of making himself some hot chocolate when I arrived, he hurried back into the kitchen. He was always in the process of making hot chocolate. I could not pull up a single memory of my grandfather’s house when I had not been offered hot chocolate and cookies.
“How did your doctor’s appointment go, Grandpa?” I asked from the living room.
“Oh it was fine. The old heart is still pumping away, even if my cholesterol is still too high.”
I heard the tinkling of coffee mugs being taken out of the cupboard. “Grandpa, you have to take care of yourself,” I chided, filling in for my mom. Every memory of hot chocolate at my grandpa’s house was always followed by the memory of my mom’s troubled frown. It wasn’t just her children she worried about.
“Don’t you worry about me, honey. I’m just fine.”
He returned from the kitchen with two mugs brimming with hot chocolate and little white marshmallows. I smiled at the colorful mugs as I took one and remembered the story he had told about buying them at the end of a long hike in the mountains of Chile. Everything in his house had a story behind it.
My grandpa sat down across from me with his own mug and a smile that matched my own. Even now in the middle of a hot summer, he warmed his hands against his mug of hot chocolate. If this was how you got to be seventy something years old and still active and happy, everyone should drink hot chocolate of every day.
"So what brought you to my house? Do you want to hear a story?" he asked hopefully.
"Actually, I do," I said, but paused before making my request. Would he really tell me about Katie and Maera, I wondered? Foolish
or not, there was no turning back for me. I needed to know. "I wanted to hear about Katie…and Maera," I said. My grandpa's face saddened and he lowered his eyes to his cup of hot chocolate.
"I didn't even know that you knew about either of them. Did your dad tell you about them?" he asked.
"Not really. I was helping mom sort photos and I came across some pictures of them. Dad did tell me that they both died, but not much else. What happened to Maera?" I asked as I carefully laid the photos out on the coffee table.
"Your mother has so many pictures. She's quite the genealogist actually. She has all the names of our family written down for generations,” he said. A deep sigh escaped his lips before saying, “But she doesn't know the stories.” He looked back into his mug of dark liquid. "Maera, my beautiful twin sister, I still miss her, even after so long."
"Maera was your twin? Dad didn't tell me that," I said. The grief that still showed in his face made me wonder if I had made a mistake in assuming my grandpa would tell me what I wanted to know. My mom might have made a mistake in assuming that my dad would overcome his grief one day, too.
"Yes, we were best friends.” My grandpa looked up and regained some of the jovial attitude he'd had earlier. "You want to know how she died don't you," he said, managing a meager smile. I nodded guiltily. "Well, for her sixteenth birthday, I mean our sixteenth birthday, our whole family went on a trip to the beach. Maera loved the beach. She spent every spare minute she had there.” He paused again, stirring his hot chocolate and looking at the photos Arra had brought. He picked one up and said, “This is a picture of her that very day.”
His eyes became teary and he put the photo back down when his hand started to shake. I picked it up immediately. It was one of the pictures I had found early that morning before coming to see him. A beautiful girl with midnight black pig tails and a boyishly old fashioned bathing suit smiled and waved at the camera. I was stunned to know I was holding a photo of Maera taken on the very day she died. The young woman’s smile haunted me, and I too set it back down on the table.
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