Who the hell is Adelaide, thought Reagan as she cleaned up the mess on the table. What did Willow mean when she said it was Adelaide’s room, and she wouldn’t mind? Was someone else living there? But the room was completely empty when Reagan moved her things in. In fact, all the rooms were empty. The only one that looked lived in was the one in the servants’ hall that her mom had guessed was Aunt Willow’s. And why was Aunt Willow so damned cryptic?
Reagan’s head was hurting, and she was tired. Maybe she heard her aunt wrong, but she was just too whipped to puzzle it out. Satisfied that the kitchen was clean, she turned out the light and headed up to her room.
Popping her head in her mom’s room, she said her goodnights. Then she turned down her own bed and snatched up her toiletry kit. The shared bathroom was down the hall. As she brushed her teeth, she thought she would like to snuggle in bed and read for a bit before she turned out her light for good. Damn, she thought. She left her library books out in the car. Sighing, she headed downstairs again and opened the door to go outside. Wiley shot between her legs and stood in front of her on the porch.
“What’s the matter, buddy? You’re in my way. I need to go to the car to get my books. Why am I talking out loud to a dog?” She pushed past him and stepped off the porch. Wiley growled a low, throaty growl. At first Reagan thought he was growling at her, but then she realized he was staring into the darkness off to the right of the porch.
“Why are you growling? Is there something out there?” A tendril of fear curled its way through Reagan’s gut. Another growl and a low bark. Reagan peered into the darkness. She wasn’t used to it being so dark at night. In the subdivision where she lived, there was a streetlight every fifth driveway, lighting up the sidewalks and giving the front lawns a soft glow. Here, at Aunt Willow’s, the world was a lot different.
A light fog from the ocean was swirling over the cliffs. A half-moon lit the sky, making eerie shadows in the fog. The screen door slammed behind her making her jump, terrified.
“What are you doing out here in the dark?” asked Willow, quietly.
“I forgot my library books in the car. I wanted to grab them so that I could read a little.”
“It’s not a good idea to go wandering around here at night. It’s not safe.”
“What do you mean it’s not safe? It’s not like the bogey man is going to get me,” retorted Reagan a little too shrilly, her fear showing through her bravado.
“No, probably not, but there are cliffs you can’t see in the dark, and the night animals will be out. You wouldn’t want to run into a skunk at night, would you?” asked Willow, “although that would be a hell of a lot better than running into the bogey man, don’t you think? Now go ahead and run to your car for your books. Wiley, go with her.” The dog whined softly. “Wiley, go, protect.”
Reagan looked at her aunt and decided right then and there that the woman was crazy. Squaring her shoulders and banishing all stupid thoughts of scary things, Reagan boldly strode to the car, grabbed her books, and came back to the porch. Wiley stuck to her leg the entire way. When she reached the porch, Reagan smiled sweetly at her aunt, told her goodnight, and flounced upstairs to her room, muttering under her breath the whole way that she was stuck for the summer with a certifiable aunt.
Chapter 5
Beep. Beep. Beep. Reagan’s alarm insistently continued to ring, while Reagan consistently ignored it. She rolled to her right side and was surprised by a sloppy tongue slathering her face with spit. Ugh, she thought. I don’t know if I will ever get used to that. Despite her disgust, she reached her hand out from under the covers to scratch Wiley behind the ear.
“Reagan, are you getting up?” her mother called.
“Yep, I’m jumping in the shower right now,” Reagan lied as she snuggled further down into the bed.
“Reagan, we are in a place with only one bathroom between us, and I am currently in it, so, no, you are not jumping in the shower right now.”
“In my mind I am already halfway done showering. Besides, I obviously can’t shower if you are in there.” Smiling at the thought of outwitting her mom, Reagan closed her eyes for a snooze.
“If you don’t want me to park my car in a rental lot for the summer where you can’t have access to it, I suggest you get your butt in that shower now. And make it a three-minute shower at that.” Recognizing the seriousness of the threat, Reagan reluctantly crawled out of bed. The room was brisk from leaving the windows open all night, but she’d slept like a baby. The sun was streaming through the lace curtains and the pretty room was cheerful. Maybe this summer isn’t going to be so bad. Maybe Aunt Willow really isn’t crazy. Maybe she’s just messing with me. Floating on the remarkably good mood that she woke up in, Reagan readied herself to take her mom to the airport. Despite the fact that she was going to miss her mom, and she was very sad to see her go, Reagan had decided that she was going to make the best of her situation. As soon as she got back from dropping off her mom she was going to explore the beach and the rest of her new domain.
Reagan felt a gnawing emptiness in the pit of her stomach when she returned from the airport, but she was determined to make the best out of her situation. Becky cried when they’d said goodbye, and that made Reagan feel terrible. She knew this was harder on her mom than it was on her. After all, not only was her mom going to miss her, but Becky also felt guilty for having to leave her. Mom was getting hit with a double whammy. At least Becky was going to be doing a job that would take all of her concentration so she would be occupied most of the time. Reagan hoped that would help ease some of Becky’s pain.
She parked the car onto the gravel pad in front of the barn, Reagan stepped out of the car and looked around for Wiley. He was nowhere to be seen. She felt disappointed because she was counting on him to go exploring with her. She wanted to drop her purse in the house and change into her running shoes before she tackled the cliffs, so she ran up the porch stairs and burst into the kitchen, thinking about the adventure ahead.
She was startled by the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls and the sight of a skinny older woman with deeply tanned, wrinkled arms, a sharp hook nose, and stringy salt and pepper hair pulled back in a severe pony tail.
“Oh, um, sorry, I’m…”
“You must be Wolf’s girl,” the woman stated flatly. “I’m Cora Rose. Have a cinnamon roll.” She didn’t say it invitingly in the least bit. “Go ahead, get a plate off the sideboard and have a cinnamon roll. You’re too skinny as it is.”
This place was getting weirder by the minute. Reagan looked at the sideboard to see a bowl of scrambled eggs, slices of fried ham, and a pan of gooey, iced cinnamon rolls.
“You can have some breakfast, too, but eat the damn roll while it’s hot. It’s best that way.” Cora Rose abruptly turned her back on Reagan and began to wash the dishes that were piled in the sink; a testament to the trouble she had gone through to make breakfast.
“I see you’ve met Cora Rose,” said Aunt Willow as she came down the hall from her office. “She is always a bright fixture to start my morning.”
“Humph,” was the only reply from the strange woman.
“Eat some breakfast,” said Willow, “or Cora Rose might have a coronary, and then who would clean my house and make me my favorite meal of the day? We do everything we can to keep Cora Rose happy.”
“You know I am right here and can hear you,” groused Cora Rose.
“I expect you can.” Willow grabbed a plate and piled it high with fluffy eggs and browned slices of ham. Reagan’s stomach growled at the tantalizing odors.
“I usually only have a cup of coffee in the morning,” protested Reagan. Willow and Cora Rose shared a glance.
“That needs to change. Get a plate,” insisted Willow. “Cora Rose cooks a big breakfast every morning, and that’s the last thing she makes. Then she goes about her business of cleaning my house. She leaves by 11:00. I don’t do lunch, and then usually only a light dinner. It would behoove you to tuck aw
ay considerable food in the morning to get you through the day. Besides, it’s healthier to eat in the morning.”
“Now I have to make coffee every morning, too. Why can’t you drink Pepsi like your aunt?” Shocked, Reagan glanced at the table where two places were set. At one, a can of Pepsi was waiting. Cora Rose was in the process of placing an empty mug at the other place. “It’ll take a minute for the coffee, so you’ll just have to wait.”
“I wasn’t complaining,” protested Reagan, “I just meant that I didn’t need you to do anything special for me.” Reagan caught the amused look on Willow’s face as if she was thoroughly enjoying Reagan’s discomfort.
Reagan dutifully picked up a plate and filled it with a small serving of everything on the sideboard and took her place at the table. Cora Rose slapped a steaming cup of coffee in front of her and raised one eyebrow. “Cream and sugar, I suppose.”
“Yes, please,” Reagan said meekly. Willow burst out laughing.
“You’re going to have to grow a thicker skin than that if you are going to survive around here. Now dig in.” Reagan tasted a forkful of eggs. Amazing. They were absolutely delicious.
“Let me guess,” Cora Rose said, “you’ve never had fresh, free range eggs before, have you?” Reagan shook her head no. “Figures,” Cora Rose complained
“Cora has chickens, and not only does she cook us breakfast, she supplies our eggs. Try the ham. It’s pretty damn delicious, too.”
Reagan dug in with a lot more enthusiasm than she expected. The food was wonderful, and the cinnamon rolls were heavenly. Cora Rose looked satisfied when she swiped away Reagan’s plate. “Coffee okay?” Cora Rose asked, expectedly.
“Yes, delicious. I like it strong like this.”
“Good, it’s the only way to drink it.”
“Reagan, I have to work on a large order of bowls today. What do you plan on doing?” asked Willow
“I figured I would do some exploring,” said Reagan
Both Willow and Cora Rose’s heads snapped up in unison, and they held each other’s eyes for a split second.
“Where do you plan on exploring?” asked Willow, mildly.
“I saw a path from my window that looks like it leads down the cliffs to the beach. I thought I would start there.”
“There is a path, and it will take you down to the ocean. There isn’t much of a beach. It’s more of a rocky shoreline. When the tide is out, you have some area you can walk, and there are some nice tidal pools in the rocks. When the tide is in, you can just pass along the cliff on the high rocks. The ocean is pretty quiet today, so you won’t have to worry too much. Just stay out of the water. This is not the place to go swimming. If you want to do that, you will have to head south of town to Orchard Bend. There is a swimming beach there. When you’re done exploring there, you can check out the old gardens and the back fields. That should take most of the afternoon. Please, just let me know when you come back up the cliff, and take Wiley with you.”
“Where is Wiley?” asked Reagan. As if on cue, Wiley whined at the porch screen door. Reagan got up and let the dog in.
“He was out for his morning constitutional. Lord knows where he was, or what he was getting into. Okay, I am heading out to work. Be careful with your exploring. Also, make yourself at home in here.”
“As long as you stay off the fourth floor,” snapped Cora Rose. Willow shot her a warning look.
“I already told Reagan she is not welcome up there and that it is dangerous. No need to make a big deal of it, Cora Rose,” said Willow, sharply. Cora Rose stared Willow down and then turned around and stomped out of the kitchen, mumbling something about added laundry duties with the additional house guest.
“Well, unless you need anything, I will see you later.” With that, Willow grabbed another Pepsi out of the refrigerator and headed out the door.
“Wiley, is everyone here bat-shit crazy or what?” complained Reagan. “And what the hell is the problem with the fourth floor?” The dog stood stock still and growled softly. “Great, you’re nuts, too.”
Chapter 6
Reagan skipped down the front porch steps, suddenly feeling happy to be alive. The ocean air felt salty, almost sticky against her skin, but not unpleasant. Pausing as she passed the barn, she listened to see if she could hear anything coming from the studio where her aunt worked. She wondered if she would ever be invited in to see what a potter’s studio looked like. Wiley pushed her forward with his nose and led the way past the barn into the back meadow. He nosed his way along a path through tall grasses, pausing to snap at a butterfly or two. Reagan couldn’t help but smile. She never had a dog, actually never really thought about wanting a dog, but she was glad Wiley was here with her. She could get used to this. Wondering if her mom would let her get a dog when they got home, she worked her way to the edge of the cliff where the path turned and led down the steep rocks to the ocean below. The sky was blue, and the ocean was gray. Gentle waves slapped against the rocks while sea gulls whirled overhead. Wiley looked at her expectantly, then disappeared behind the wall of the cliff as he headed down the path.
Reagan followed, carefully stepping, a little unnerved by the steep and narrow path. She finally reached the bottom and came to the sinking realization that she would have to climb back up. Turning to look down the beach, she was stunned of the lack of sand. She had been to the ocean before. Her mom had taken her to Ocean City, Maryland a couple of years ago. They had a wonderful time sunning themselves on the warm beach, flying kites in the brisk on-shore breeze, and eating crabs at night on the boardwalk. But this was different. Completely different. There was very little sand, and what there was of it was nestled between large rocks that looked very slippery.
She left the path cautiously and stood on a large slab of stone that sloped toward the water. Waves crashed over the end of the slab, sending a spray of water into the air. Wiley ran through the waves, barking and biting at the sea foam. Reagan laughed at the dog’s crazy antics. Finding a relatively dry spot, she settled herself to watch the dog and the crashing waves.
The longer she sat, the more she became aware of her surroundings. Next to her on the rock was a puddle of water. She had noticed it when she sat down, being careful not to land her butt in it, but when she glanced at again, she realized it was kind of deep, and that there were things in it. She leaned over to get a closer look and was startled to discover a starfish slowly moving across the rock. She had never seen a live starfish before, just the skeletons of them in craft stores. Fascinated, she looked closer. In the puddle was what looked like algae, and even some kind of plant, maybe seaweed. A tiny crab scuttled by. Then she saw something like a spiny ball.
“What the hell is that?” she said out loud.
“A sea urchin.”
Startled, Reagan almost fell backward on the rock.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” said the boy who was standing next to her.
“Where did you come from, and who are you?” asked Reagan.
“I came from over there,” he gestured vaguely behind him. Reagan looked, but only saw the curve of the cliff and rocks. “And my name is Seth.”
“Well, Seth, you really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” said Reagan, trying to cover up her embarrassment with indignation. The boy just laughed and continued to stare down at her.
“You really shouldn’t be so involved in something that you don’t notice someone approach you. It might not be safe.”
When he said that, Reagan felt a chill down her spine. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something really not quite right about this boy. She squinted up at him, the sun behind him making it hard to see his face. His blond hair was the color of straw. It was long and windblown as if he had already been on the shore for a long time this morning. He was wearing some blue cotton type pants and a white button up shirt, untucked and somewhat wrinkled. If she were to venture a guess, she would say he was a local, because a tourist would be dressed in all
the latest fashions. This guy looked like he may have shopped at the local Goodwill, trying to pick up some vintage clothes. Perhaps this was Maine’s nod to the counter culture like the Goth movement back home.
Wiley didn’t seem to think the kid was a threat, because he came bounding out of the water, hurling himself at the boy, butt wiggling, tail wagging, and whining with happiness. Thinking that she may have been too quick to judge, and a bit rude, she softened her tone,
“You two seem to know each other,” she said.
“We’ve run into each other a time or two, haven’t we boy?” Wiley just groaned in pleasure as Seth rubbed the dog’s back at the base of his tail. “So, you’ve never seen a sea urchin?” asked Seth.
“No, I haven’t. It looks like a porcupine,” said Reagan
“More like a hedgehog.”
“Well, I’ve never seen one of those, either.”
“But you’ve seen a porcupine?”
“Well, no… wait, yes, in the zoo,” exclaimed Reagan, triumphantly
“Well, these guys are related to the starfish, and they are good eating,” said Seth.
“Wait, you eat these spiny things?”
“Yep, you can eat the urchin, but a lot of people just like the eggs,” said Seth. Reagan wrinkled her nose. She was an Ohio girl. Seafood was shrimp, crabs, fish, and maybe some sushi for the adventurous crowd, of which she was not.
“So, is he or she trapped here? Should we try to get the starfish and this urchin back into the ocean?”
“Where are you from?” asked Seth
“Ohio, why?”
“Because you don’t know that you are looking at a tidal pool. Who doesn’t know what a tidal pool is?”
“A girl from Ohio, that’s who. We don’t have an ocean there,” Reagan replied hotly.
“I’m sorry,” said Seth as he crouched down beside her. “I didn’t want to make you mad. I was just surprised that’s all. So, when the tide is high, these rocks are under water. When the tide goes out, these pools form in the rocks. The animals will be fine here until the water covers them up again when the tide rises.”
The Starfish Talisman Page 3