Generations I: Book of Enlightenment

by Mia Castile

  “What do you mean? No longer than usual.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He paused. “Why do you look so confused?”

  “Do I? I’m not. I just thought I took a little longer than normal. Are you ready?”

  “Yep,” he said, as I grabbed my bag and we were out the door to begin our long walk to school.

  “Favorite movie scene?”

  “Of all time or most recently?”

  “Of all time.” I had to think hard. It had been a long time since I’d seen any good movies.

  “Um, the scene in Clueless when Cher tells Ty that ‘El-en’”—I imitated the way the character Ty said the name Elton “—said she gave him a tooth ache.”

  “That’s a very girl choice,” Gideon said as he rolled his eyes.

  “Good thing I’m a girl, huh?” It was my turn now.

  “Favorite class?”

  “Free period,” we answered in unison. We had ten blocks to go. We were passing the time playing the ‘favorite game’.

  “Ellie, you got any prospects on a job yet?” He put his hands in his pockets and looked hard at the ground in front of him. I knew this question was coming. I hated that he was worried.

  “I don’t yet, but I’m hitting the pavement hard after school.” We were approaching a red light. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted it. “HELP WANTED APPLY WITHIN”

  “Talk about timing! Look over there.” I pointed; Gideon smiled.

  “Bookstore. Good choice, and only three blocks from the apartment.” That would be my first stop after school.

  School was school. Gideon and I had moved around so much that we’d been to almost every elementary and junior high school in the town. Luckily, there were only two public high schools and one private school in our city. Even though I’d known a lot of these kids for years, it was hard to make friends. I was always considered a loner. However, Gideon was a star, an all-around smart guy. He never had a problem with school. He didn’t ever have to study. If he was told something one time, he’d never forget it. He was receiving top honors and was in contingency to be the valedictorian, and that was what his full-ride scholarship was for. He didn’t have problems with girls either. They seemed to be attracted to his wittiness and charm. I couldn’t blame them. I always told him he got that from me.

  Me, on the other hand, I didn’t date. I spent most of my time writing. I journaled and wrote poetry and short stories. My imagination always got the better of me. Even if boys flirted with me, I didn’t notice. I focused on my school work and staying out of trouble. If you’re not noticed, you are less likely to stand out and even less likely to find trouble. So that was most of my days: I turned in my homework on time, spoke when spoken to, and knew which halls to avoid between classes.

  Gideon and I had lunch at the same time, so, of course, I ate with him and his friends. He was currently crushing on a beautiful redhead in our clique named Moriah. He had two classes with her and one with her twin sister. Her sister and I shared a free period together. Moriah was breathtaking. Her perfect porcelain skin would make anyone jealous. She had hazel eyes that glittered green or grey if the light hit them just right. Her twin sister, Selah, was just as beautiful and a mirror image of her with matching porcelain skin. Selah had white-blond hair, though, and she looked like she stepped out of a magazine. Sometimes they’d dress alike, and they always finished each other’s sentences. Moriah had such a peace about her. She didn’t speak often, but when she did, she could always make you see another perspective. Selah and Gideon shared a lot of “inside jokes.” They got each other’s humor and could throw comments at each other faster than anyone I’d ever seen. Both of the girls’ parents were professors at the city university. They’d all be attending school together in the fall. These days that was all they were talking about, too. They were so excited. I was glad that Gideon would have friends to look after him.

  “Ellie, what are you going to do without us next year?” Selah asked, as she delicately unwrapped her sandwich.

  “I don’t know. I guess eat my lunch in the bathroom.” We laughed, but I felt that there was a hint of truth to my statement. “I guess we have to find you someone in your own grade to hang out with before school is dismissed this year. It shouldn’t be hard; you’re a fun time.” She nudged my elbow, and we giggled.

  “I’m sure one of the incoming freshmen wouldn’t mind taking her under their wings,” Selah’s boyfriend interjected between bites of his spaghetti.

  “Before school is dismissed this year, Todd.” Selah winked at me, and I giggled again.

  At the end of the day, I met up with Gideon long enough to be reminded that he was working until nine p.m. I made the lonely trek home. On the way I remembered about the bookstore. It was a basement shop. The sign hung over the sidewalk from the second floor, but the windows were at the ground level. I had to walk down a flight of stairs to reach the front door. There was a musty book smell even before I opened the door. As I turned the knob and opened the door, I heard a bell chime directly over my head. There were wood cases stacked in aisles and lining the outer walls. Books were crammed into every crevice. There was a table set up for six in the far corner. I imagined six artsy people sitting in the corner having a deep conversation about the artsy book they’d just finished in their artsy book club.

  “Can I help you?” I heard a mild, deep voice beside me. I hadn’t seen anyone behind the counter on my right when I walked in. It made me jump. I turned to see a man standing behind the cash register. He looked like he might have been in his late thirties or early forties. He was tall with wavy jet black hair. It looked like it needed a good trim. His eyes were green. His skin was a leathery tan color. I couldn’t tell if it was from years of outside work or more of a natural color because he was also muscular and had broad shoulders. When he had been my age, I’m sure he was very good looking. Even now, he was handsome. He was just old to me. He had a calming effect about him and I suddenly felt very relaxed. There was a look in his eyes that made me feel that I could trust him. The man could see I was startled because he added, “Sorry I surprised you. I was putting some supplies away under the counter when I heard the bell.”

  I quickly smiled. “I’m applying for the position.”

  “Really?” He surveyed me and narrowed his eyes, forming an opinion of me immediately. “Here’s an application.” He reached for a paper under the counter and produced an application that had questions on it—front and back.

  “And here’s a pen,” he added, holding a pen he’d plucked from his shirt pocket.

  “Oh, I have one, thank you.” I patted my messenger bag.

  “Suit yourself; this one’s my favorite anyway. There’s a table in the corner. You can fill it out there.” I made my way over to the table, sat down, and began filling out the application. The bell chimed again.

  “Hey, Sonny!” It was an older female voice.

  “Hey, Margie, how are you today?”

  “I’m good. Well, I came across a few first editions and was wondering what you thought about them, and if I had enough for the trade I was looking at last week.”

  “Let me see.” He paused. I heard pages rustling. “Wow! These are in great condition. You have more than enough. I’ll take these two as a trade, and this one earns you two hundred dollars. It’s a good thing I put the book you wanted behind the counter. Another buyer was looking for it yesterday. I told him I had it held for a week for you. Congratulations, young lady.” They continued small talk. I was impressed by his honest business practices. He could have taken the books on an even trade, but he did the right thing by her. I finished the application and came around the corner. The woman was small, and her hair was grey. She had to be in her sixties. They finished their conversation, and she smiled at me with a nod of hello as she left with her book and money.

  “So you’re a trader too?” I asked.

  “Yes, I take books on trade although sometimes you make a bad trade.” He sh
ook his head as he looked at the books again.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you see, Margie’s books were worth about two hundred dollars altogether, but she’s just lost her husband in an accident at his job, so I decided to help her out a little.”

  “That’s admirable.”

  “She’s a regular and like family now; we always make trades.” He looked over the application. “It says here your brother is your emergency contact?”

  “Yes, it’s just him and me.”

  “Your parents?”

  “No parents; they died when we were young.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. This looks good. I just have a few questions if that’s all right.”

  “Sure.”

  “What made you decide to apply here?”

  “My brother and I just moved to the area, and I need a job. On the way to school this morning I saw the sign, and it was like it called to me.”

  He smiled. “Why do you think you would be an asset to my bookstore?’

  “I’m a hard worker and a fast learner. And I can start immediately.” With that, he laughed.

  “That’s good because I need someone immediately. I’m Sonny.” He extended his hand. I took it, and we shook hands. His calloused hands held a firm grip. “I think this will be a nice fit. Can you start tomorrow? What time do you get out of school?”

  “I can be here around this time. I came straight from school today.”

  “Good, we close at nine Monday through Friday. Saturday we close at seven. I’ll give you twenty hours a week. You will be paid weekly. What else?” He paused. “Oh yes, it’s minimum wage. But if you prove yourself, in ninety days I’ll give you a significant raise.”

  “Sounds fair. I will see you tomorrow.” When I left the store, a sense of accomplishment lingered in the air around me.

  Chapter 3

  When I arrived home, I quickly put a chicken breast in the oven and mixed a salad. I stared out the window at a large black raven as I ate dinner. It looked so lonely out there. It watched me too, and then it fluttered like it was going to fly away, only to land on the other side of the ledge. I chuckled as I watched it. It was so confused. I cleared my plate and put it in the sink. Then I took down a sleeve of crackers out of the box in the cabinet. I went outside; the raven was startled and went to the other ledge again. I slowly approached it, whispering, “Nevermore, nevermore.” Edgar Allen Poe was in my head as I opened the package, crushed a few crackers together, and threw them in front of me, close to the ledge where the raven had twisted its head looking at me inquisitively.

  “You hungry, fellow?” It squawked its answer to me and jumped down to eat a few of the crackers. It ate, then turned its head in a jerky motion and looked at me. “It’s OK. I won’t hurt you,” I continued to soothe. It squawked another response to me. “I know, us poor folk have to stick together, huh?” I threw some more crackers down and sat down in the lounger to watch it eat the rest of the crumbs. “It’s nice to have someone watching over you and helping you out once in a while. But don’t tell Gid that I did this; he’d probably tell me that now you’ll come around all the time looking for food. This is our little secret, cool?” I smiled at the raven. It seemed to smile back at me, and it squawked a final time before flying off to the next building and perching on the ledge there. It still watched me though. I could see its coal black eyes fixed on me as I stood and went back inside. I went to the sink and washed up my dishes while the news played in the background.

  “Six teenagers out on a group date were attacked in what police are calling a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Now the police chief spoke. “From what we understand, the teens got lost and ended in a known gang and drug area. They are outstanding students who attend St. Angelo’s Preparatory School. They were robbed and injured but will all recover.” I paused as they showed their school pictures. They were my age. It just reinforced how on our own Gideon and I were. After watching TV for a while, I went to my room. I changed into my pajamas. Boxer shorts and an old tank top were my usual uniform. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and pulled my hair up into a pony tail. I retired to my double-sized bed. I settled in under my covers and looked at the clock. 9.30 p.m.

  “UGGH.” I let out a disappointing sigh. I reached into the drawer of my bed table and took out my journal. It was a leather bound book that had blank pages that I filled with my poetry. I had another leather bound book for my journal and one that I put my short stories in. If I were a published writer, this would be my fourth compilation. I had always wanted to be published, but it scared me, too, because I poured my heart out onto those pages. I began to write, and the words just got away from me. It was like they were writing themselves.

  This journey I am wandering, is there a destination?

  I look to the stars to find my direction.

  The stars, like a foreign language that I don’t understand.

  This journey I am traveling to find you.

  This journey I am traveling, a long winding road

  If I journeyed to you, would I have anything to show

  Except the stories of the lands I traveled?

  This journey I am traveling to find you.

  Then I began thinking of “him,” the boy in my dreams with his dark hair and blue eyes that haunted me. Sometimes he’d rescue me; sometimes I’d rescue him. Most times we’d talk. We’d talk for hours, or so it seemed in my dreams. He’d look at me and I’d lose my breath and my heart would race. The thing was, these weren’t one or two dreams I’d had about this boy. I’d had them since I could remember. I never told anyone. No one knew. But my poetry always went to him. I didn’t think about him most of the day, but when I was alone or drifting to sleep, sometimes I could feel my heart calling to him. Then there he was, in my dreams, in my thoughts. Maybe that was why I never dated. Even though he was imaginary, he was mine. And he loved me and would never leave me. He was my angel. I had realized that a long time ago. When I was young, we were warriors. He showed me his tree house. I showed him Mr. Bearingston. In the past few months since my birthday, as we got older, things changed. The dreams changed. Sometimes we were different people in ancient Greece or China. I’d had a reoccurring dream where we were in Germany during World War I. I always remembered my dreams when I dreamed of him, too. I rarely remembered other dreams. I smiled as I thought about him and closed my eyes.

  “Hey, you.” I could hear his voice so clearly. I opened my eyes and there he stood. He seemed taller. He wore blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt layered with a t-shirt over it and sneakers. He wore what looked like a thick golden bracelet cuffed on each of his wrists. I’d never seen them before. “It’s been a few weeks since we’ve talked.”

  “I know. My brother and I are finally on our own. What do you think of the new place? But, where have you been?” I jumped up from my bed. I was excited to see him, but confused because it had been awhile since I’d dreamed of him.

  “I’ve had a lot going on. I’m graduating soon you know. But I came to warn you. We’re concerned that The Noctem is growing stronger. My mother is worried.” He paused and surveyed me very slowly from head to toe. He didn’t hide his approval of what he saw either. I suddenly felt very self-conscious.

  “The Noctem? I thought everything was fine. Probably a few more years—that’s what you said last time.”

  “My mother says there’s a strong Noctem. She’s trying to locate its lair. She doesn’t have much to go on right now.” He changed the subject. “How is school?” I sat down on my bed. He sat beside me and picked up Mr. Bearingston. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and held him between them. He locked his eyes on him.