“Of course,” I rolled my eyes. “What was I thinking? No big mystery here.” I said it aloud; making sure my parents heard me. Okay, so it was immature, what of it? Still, I kept getting louder with every word I spoke, because hello . . . this immature girl was so over moving. “Everything put in place like always, I see.” I announced. “Why can’t we be normal for once in my life? It’s not like people move to places they’ve never lived and I don’t know, umm, have to unpack things. Gosh!”
“Now then, Charlie, calm down,” Mom sighed. “We like moving to homes that are already furnished. You know that.”
“Yeah, Mom!” Wow, my mouth was on a roll. “So no one can find us, right?”
And suddenly, looking at her face, I knew that I had, quite by accident, hit the right button. That was the answer. We were on the lamb, but from who or what I was not sure.
Chapter Two
Learning Some Truth
Crap! “Just forget it, Mom,” I murmured. “You wouldn’t understand anyway.”
Mom looked at me sadly, her voice gentle and soft. “Oh, Sweetie, I understand you. And I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?” She held out her arms for a hug. She was hoping I would accept her apology.
I hesitated for a moment, confused. I mean, I was still mad. Well, what did she expect? But I couldn’t really stay mad. I took in a couple of deep breaths to relax and said, “Yes, Mom, I forgive you.” I moved in and wrapped my arms around her waist. Just like that, all the weight was lifted. The emotions were gone, and my concerns felt irrelevant as she hugged me back.
My father came through the open door. “Janet, is everything OK?”
“I think I have everything under control, Sam,” Mom replied, her voice a bit brighter than usual. “Isn’t that right, Sweetie? Why don’t you go upstairs and see your room.”
Okay. So she didn’t want to talk about it since Dad was here. I could accept that – for now. I leaned down and picked up the two heavy bags.
I started up the stairs, but Dad’s deep voice stopped me. “Hey, wait, Kiddo. Do you think you might need my help finding your room?”
Ugh. He always calls me Kiddo. I hated that! It made me feel like a little kid. I glared at him and said, “Dad, you know, uh. . . I don’t like it when you call me that. Thanks anyways, but I can manage. Besides, it won’t be hard to miss. It’s the only room that looks like a teenager should live in, right?”
Dad casually scratched the bridge of his nose and nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.” He smirked.
I was a little pissed off again, but what else is new? (Sullen teenager? Who me? Never!) I turned away quickly. I refused to say something I would later hate. I headed upstairs to my find my room. I found it, and, believe me, it wasn’t that hard. As I opened the bedroom door, I wondered, not for the first time, what it would look like: Big? Small? Or, just like all the rest? Oh the joy, right! Okay, so seeing my room for the first time, I was taken aback. No effin’ way! I love it, lo-o-ove it! It wasn’t exactly what I expected. It was much, much bigger than I imagined. On the right-hand side, there was a sliding-glass door that led to a beautiful balcony.
I never had a balcony before, which rules. I also had plenty of closet space and my own bathroom. Hells-to-the-yeah! I did a happy dance right on the spot. Woo-hoo! Yet, there was a down side: My things were put up. Still, I was amazed at how different this bedroom was. I did, however, feel a little irritated. My things, which weren’t much, were already organized. I can never just be happy. I suck. But then again, I am a very anal retentive person when it comes to my room, and I hate when all my stuff, again not much, was already put away. Sure, I could redo everything like I wanted, but what’s the point when it was already neatly done. Yet, I would end up redoing my room (anal retentive, remember) and that’s just half of my brilliant quirks. Smile! Oh well, there’s no point in wasting time thinking about it right now. I jumped backward, landed on my bed, and let out a loud laugh at myself, shaking my head at how silly I was being. I lay there for a minute looking around.
Umm, I should probably start unpacking what little items I brought with me. Yeah! I nodded and did a little fist pump. While I put my things away, this wonderful feeling came over me. Everything seemed calm and peaceful. No rage. No hurt. I felt very composed, that is until I realized I had to start school the next day. Crap! I wondered what school would be like. I hoped I’d make a good impression on everyone and they’d like the new kid. Wonderful, now I was calling myself a kid. Dad must have rubbed off on me. I couldn’t let that happen! He would love it too much; his ego would go right through the roof. As I thought about my dad, the weight of sadness and distrust started flooding back. My serene moment faded away; nevertheless, I didn’t have to focus on my misery too long.
My mom called up to me. “Charlie? Hey, Charlie, come down here please!”
“Okay, I’m coming, Mom.” I was out of the room and right by her side in no time. “Yes, what do you need?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, Sweetie. I was just going to the store and thought you might want to ride with me.”
“Mom, that’s not nothing. I would love to see the town, and I might meet someone that goes to school here. So when I start on Monday, I’ll at least know somebody.”
“That sounds like a good plan. OK, Charlie, let’s get going. I need to buy some food for dinner tonight. Do you have some suggestions? What would you like to eat?”
We got into the car. Mom started it up, and we pulled away.
I smiled. “Whatever you buy is fine with me, Mom. You’re a good cook. I trust you.”
The word “trust” slipped out of my mouth before I could gag it. Mom knew I didn’t trust her, not in the least. But I guess I could make an exception when it came to my mom and her cooking. Although, what I said must’ve not fazed her. She just smiled her relentless-charming smile and kept on talking.
“Great, I’ll get something different tonight. We are having some friends over. You knew that you’re father and I have some friends here . . . right?”
“OK. Hold—up!” I threw my hands up in a gesture like I was trying to stop something from hitting me: her words! “Mom, you have friends that live here and I didn’t know about it. How is that possible? Wait a second.” I snapped my fingers, thinking. Miraculously, my brain caught up with my mouth. “Did you and Dad live here before? Oh, my God! Did I live here before?”
“Um…” Mom glanced down at her lap, and then she quickly glanced back up at the road, remembering she was driving and said, “Yes, we did, Charlie.”
I looked at her confused, scratching my head with my eyebrows raised. “O—kay, you’re telling me that . . . um, I lived here, too? So, that would mean . . .? Was I born here?” I know that question sounded stupid. Gosh, I sounded stupid. This, I admit, wasn’t one of my better days. Of course, I lived here, too—she just said so. However, for some unexplainable reason, my mind could not comprehend what she just said—so I had to ask it again.
“Yes, that’s exactly right. I guess we should have told you before we came back that we all lived here once.” Mom grimaced.
“Ya think?” I shook my head bitterly. “Wow, Mom!” My sarcastic side was on yet again. “I can’t believe this. I thought we never lived in one place twice.” For some reason, my mom thought this was funny. She snickered softly. “OK, I get it, I’m hilarious.”
“Why yes, Charlie, I think you’re very funny.” A strange flicker flashed in Mom’s eyes of something, but it was gone before I could identify it.
I sighed, feeling a little frustrated. Perfect, she finally decided to share one of her secrets. Just swell! “That’s good to know I’m funny!” I glared. “But stop changing the subject.”
“Who said I was changing the subject? I was just stating fact: You’re very funny. I’m sorry, Sweetie. And, I’m all ears.”
“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes. Darn, this eye roll thing is becoming a bad habit. (Must try and stop!) “Mom,” I go. “How long did we use to live here before moving?
”
“That’s easy. You were around 3 years old before we left. I sure did miss this place. Gosh, it feels good to be back.” She smiled wistfully.
“I’m glad you’re—we’re back, too.” I grinned, and got all ecstatic. Finally, I might have a real home. We might stay. “Mom, this is great news. Maybe this time we can stay longer than all the other places we’ve lived.” I looked at her waiting anxiously for an answer.
She put one hand on my shoulder and said, “You never know what tomorrow will bring, Charlie, so let’s just focus on today, OK?”
Fudge, why did I ask? “Yeah, right, Mom.” I shrugged. “But, I hope tomorrow keeps us here a while.”
Mom let out a long sigh. “Uh . . . let’s talk about something else. How about your birthday. It’s not that far. Charlie, you’ll be 16 before you know it. That’s old!” She gave me a wink.
“God, Mom, you’re old for saying that.”
“Whatever.” She tittered. “So, I was thinking we should throw you a party and have people over. Besides, you’ll be meeting some people tonight; therefore, you’re getting a head start.”
“M—oo—oom,” I whined. “Don’t throw me a party. I don’t even know who these people are. So please don’t throw me a party. ‘Kay!”
She threw me an impish smile.
“Mom, say OK! Tell me you won’t throw a party with people I don’t even know!”
“We’ll see.” I gave her a nasty look. She ran a hand over my face and laughed. “Don’t make that face, Charlie. It’s not pretty.”
I frowned, dropping that topic and asking another. “So, um, what’re their names these people you know—and I don’t—and how long have you known them?”
Mom beamed. “We’ve known them for ages, their long-time friends of ours: Kate and Jerold Flint. They have two kids, Rose and Jace. You’re going to get along great with them, and they’re dying to meet you. I’ve told them so much.”
“Uh-huh, Mom, that’s fine,” I said a little too harshly. “Tell them anything. I don’t care.” It wasn’t fair what I said and how I said it. I was the one, after all, who asked the question, but it also wasn’t fair for them to keep so much from me.
Surprise showed on her face. “Charlie?” Mom asked, tilting her head to the side. “Are you all right? Did I upset you?”
“Yes-no, no I’m fine,” I said grudgingly. “Okay, so how old is Rose and Jace?” I asked.
“When I talked to Kate on the phone, she said Rose is 13 now and Jace had just turned 17 two weeks ago,” was my mom’s reply.
I was taken aback. “Mom, just how long have you and Dad been in touch with Kate and Jerold?”
“Charlie, Honey. Like I said before, your father and I never lost contact. We always try to stay in touch with all of our friends from around here. Besides, we lived here years before you were born.”
If my mouth could drop any farther, it would’ve touched the floor. “This is so overwhelming.” I clutched at the air, trying to sort out my thoughts, but there was just too much. “There’s so much I don’t know about you and Dad. I don’t like surprises either. You know I hate when you catch me off guard. I wished you trusted me more!” I fumed, crossing my arms.
“Well I’m sorry, Sweetie, but I guess, surprise.” She shrugged her shoulders raising her eyebrows.
“Oh, you got me,” I said bitterly. “It’s not every day you find out your parents don’t trust you at all. Oh, but I’ll give you this one, Mom.” I glowered. “Way to go!”
“Charlie,” mom gave me a disapproving look. “We trust you, but we didn’t think it was necessary telling you every last thing about our past. However, this seemed like the perfect opportunity.”
Scowling, I laughed a little hollow. “I guess you’re right, Mom. I’d find out sooner or later, and later being like right now.” Fed-up with our conversation I said, “Mom, I’m tired of talking.” I waved my hand her way to drop our discussion.
With a resounding sigh Mom said, “Charlie, that’s fine.” I saw her hesitate, but she let it go.
I leaned down and turned the radio on. I didn’t want to concentrate anymore. I was getting a headache from all the new information I’d learned, and I was mad at myself for being naïve. To think, I thought Mom and Dad didn’t know people. Can you say pathetic? I closed my eyes, and put my head back in the seat to relax. I was fast asleep dreaming.
My dream was strange. I was standing in a beautiful meadow. It was dark but for the huge moon right above me shining a bright luminous light. Then my stomach clenched up, and darkness started to surround me from all corners, as if something bad was about to happen.
I heard a faint whisper. “It’s you!” The voice was deep, melodic, a sensual sound.
I shivered.
Then I heard another voice calling my name, calling me away from that one erotic sound. “Charlie. . .?” My dream was cut short. The voice was my mom trying to wake me up. “We’re here, wake up. Charlie? Come on, you want to see the city, right?”
“I’m up, I’m up!” I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. I focused on Mom and said, “Oh, sorry you startled me. I’m exhausted. I guess I was more tired than I’d realized.”
“I would say so, Sweetie. I didn’t think you were going to wake up. That must have been a bad dream. You were tossing and turning and then you mumbled something. Are you OK, Dear?”
“Yes, I’m fine, Mom. It was just a dream.”
However, I still heard that voice; and I could still remember what the voice said. Just before Mom pulled me out of my dream, I heard the voice say, ‘I found you! I found you! Finally, I found you!’ And its tone was triumphant. The whole experience was too surreal and very creepy. I shook my head.
“Just checking, but if you need to talk, let me know. I’m here for you.” She smiled placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Mom, look I’m good. Promise,” I did the whole cross-my-heart thing.
She considered me, waiting a heartbeat. When I didn’t say anything else, Mom said, “Fine, fine.”
We got out of the car and started walking along the sidewalk to the grocery store.
“Hey, Mom, while you’re shopping, can I take a look around the town?”
She thought for a second, and then she nodded. “I guess so, but stay close. I don’t want you getting in to trouble, Charlie.”
“Right, Mom, I promise, thanks.”
I turned away and started strolling along that same sidewalk, looking at everything, and how amazingly beautiful my surroundings were. Oh, wow! That store is cool. The name was odd. Part of it was written in a different language. That had to be why it caught my attention.
I definitely wanted to get a better look. The store itself looked to be very old, maybe it had been here forever. I peeked through the window. All the stuff looked very antique. As I stared in, I saw a little woman behind the counter putting on her smock.
She smiled. “Hello. You can come in. We are opened.”
Chapter Three
Story of the Stone
I stumbled—I’m such a spaz—through the door looking awkward, “Oh hi, sorry,” I say, running a hand through my thick mane of hair. Of course, that’s me, klutzy Charlie. And the best thing I could come up with was, “Oh hi, sorry.” I suck. While we’re on the subject of all things sucky about Charlie, I might as well tell you what else sucks, and is so unfair and totally cruel: That’s trying to fix this mop of brown, thick, ugly shoulder-length unruly hair. Yeah, sucks!
“My name’s Avani,” the woman behind the counter said, stopping my musings of hair. “Welcome to the Past and Present. Feel free to look around. If you need something, just let me know.”
“Um . . . OK, thank you.”
I like her name: Avani. I was amazed at how her voice made me feel welcomed; it was warm and kind. She also looked very interesting. Her features resembled that of a Native American. She stood around five feet something. (Hey, I’m not a measuring stick!) She was wearing a light blue smock that she’d ju
st put on. The designs on the smock were wicked cool. The smock was very unique. I’d never seen something that could take all my concentration. It had me focusing on every small detail. There were symbol-like words going around in a circle. In the middle of the circle was a howling wolf. The wolf was astonishing. Big and strong, and it seemed to be looking right at me. Now that’s wild! Some part of my mind was playing a bizarre trick. The wolf was clearly not looking at me
Well, it must be one of them days when I was going to see things that weren’t there. I looked up from the smock and gazed at Avani’s skin. It was a beautiful mocha color that set her blue-black hair off from the rest of her. Avani’s hair was insanely long. It went all the way down to her hips, and still I couldn’t tell if that was the true length. She had it twisted up and pulled over to one side. She was wearing high heels and a long skirt that swayed around her body, with a silky top finishing her look. She was a very slender woman—her body looked fragile, but the way she stood showed confidence. Avani had bright green eyes, and her smile lit up the room. I stopped gawking at her and looked around. Out of nowhere, I tripped and hit a small round stone. Ouch. That hurt! I looked down to see what I thump my toe on. What is this? Umm, and what’s it doing in the floor?
I picked it up to get a better look. It was peculiar looking, but somewhat familiar! Very intriguing! I wondered if I’d seen it before. It was light and small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. On one side of the stone there were three symbols, and on the other side of the stone were three images. Right in the middle was a clock with small metallic eyes underneath. However, there was something off . . . what was it? I considered this as I studied the item closely. Then it hit me. I had one of them light bulb moments: ding! Oh, I see—the hands were not going the right way, as if it was counting backwards. That’s odd, but very neat. The stone’s color was gray and black with red swirls. I was extremely amazed by its uniqueness. There was just something about this stone I couldn’t put my finger on. I looked up, clearing my throat, I go, “Uh, excuse me?”
A Spark Of Magic: Chosen Saga Book One Page 2