R.E.birth

by Thomas W. Everson

  She cries on my shoulder for a little bit longer but eventually calms down. I try to pull away a few times but her grip is locked.

  “But who do you like better?!” she asks.

  Oh dear. How do I get out of this? I have no other option to break this little girl’s affinity toward me. She’ll realize that it could never have worked because of our age difference when she’s a little older.

  “It’s not a matter of who I like more. Ami’s my friend and you’re like my little sister,” I tell her as nicely as I can.

  “Your little sister?!” She pulls away and hits me in the chest, her eyes tearing up again.

  “All right Emma! You should come see what I do for fun.” Ami intervenes while getting up to pull her away.

  Emma resists a bit but finally goes with Ami. Ami looks at me disapprovingly and takes Emma through the swinging white door. Left to wonder what I did wrong, I shake my head and Agatha laughs again.

  “Hilarious, Agatha,” I smirk at her.

  “I think so. I think her crush on you is cute.” She gets up to start cleaning.

  “I certainly don’t think so. It’s awkward for me.” I move to help her, picking up Ami’s bowl and mine.

  Cleaning up, the leftover soup goes in the refrigerator, the dirty dishes get washed and the table and counters get wiped down. Together we make short work of it, but I still find myself tired again, the nap not having been enough to recuperate.

  When we are finished I make my way upstairs to my bedroom. Though I can hear the two girls in the next room, I decide to leave them be and shut my door. Undressing down to my undershorts and climbing into the bed I find my eyes are getting heavy quickly. My body melts into the soft mattress.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  When you have nothing but preparing to be ripped from this time and learning to keep you busy, time’s passage seems slow, unlike those few days of adventure in the city which were over before I knew it.

  I suppose that slow and quiet are good things though. With daily updates from Emma that things are improving, I feel glad, but I wonder how long that will last in a city like this, especially with day walkers like the one who tried to assault Ami and me.

  I pin washed laundry on the clothesline to dry. Spared of the women’s undergarments by a mutual understanding, I hang towels and other, regular garments up.

  Though my being here changes things for them, I will do what I can not to complicate things any more than I already have just by being in their personal bubble.

  Hanging up the last of the towels on the clotheslines I wipe some sweat from my brow and turn back to the house to get a drink of water. My thirst is powerful and when I turn the sink faucet on I dunk my head under and begin to slurp noisily. The cold and refreshing water dribbles from my mouth and down my chin to my neck. Once satisfied, I turn the faucet off and wipe the wet spots dry with my already wet shirt. When I stand up, I am startled by Ami standing there watching me.

  “Good water?” she asks.

  “Mmm, very,” I reply.

  “How’s the laundry?”

  “All but yours is done,” I tell her with a smile.

  Leaning against the counter and crossing my arms, our eyes meet and her eyes sparkle in the sunlight at me. Despite my resolve to not complicate things I find her beautiful and it is hard to deny my own thoughts. Her lightly tanned face is smooth and flawless and her large curls flow freely over her shoulders.

  I suppose my mind is a safe enough haven to admire her from.

  “See something you like?” Ami taunts.

  “I…” I avert my eyes, embarrassed that I have been caught staring. “I was simply marveling at your eye color. It is unlike anyone else’s that I have met so far.”

  “Remember to use ‘it’s’ in place of ‘it is’,” she corrects me, as she has been for days now and moves a step closer to me. “But besides that – you find my eyes attractive?”

  “Er…” I shift nervously. “I was just thinking that they are unique.”

  So much for not complicating things. Who knew just looking at her would provoke her interest in me.

  “‘They’re’,” she corrects me again and I see a flirtatious smile cross her lips.

  Slowly, she leans toward me, apparently trying for that interrupted kiss from before, but before I can lean in to meet her, she has stopped and is staring out the window with wide eyes. Puzzled, I turn around and see Emma off in the distance at the edge of the park; she is hauling a cart. Moving to intercept her, Ami throws the backdoor open and the earth begins to quake beneath us.

  “She can’t be here! Mother! We’re shifting!” Ami yells through the house.

  Springing out into the yard, I overtake Ami who has begun running toward the boundary between our plot of land and the rest of the park. The vortex begins to swirl around the house and its multiple hues of blue air currents become visible as they slice that barrier. When I reach the edge I stay on our side and Emma has drawn close enough to see that she has a scared look on her face. The earth quakes even harder but I hold my footing. The buildings begin to fade and I wave my arms, trying to swat Emma away, but she continues.

  “Go Emma! Go the other way!” I scream out over the whirring noise permeating the air.

  She stops dead. I can see the tears in her eyes but when she and the city disappear, it matters no longer as our new time comes into view and Emma has not become stuck like us. For good reason we had not let her come with us, and I am satisfied with that decision as our new time has come fully into view.

  A heavy, dry wind blasts me in the face as the vortex dies down and my vision blurs as gritty sand beats against me. Ami reaches me and we are both forced to hold our shirts over our faces to avoid being choked completely by the massive, arid desert that lies around us.

  3 DESOLATION

  Even though the vortex has dissipated, the wind roars by us and around the house, bombarding us with harsh sand particles. I cannot see far beyond my position and even looking back at the house is blurry. My eyes are watering from the debris being thrown into my eyes.

  “What is this?!” I try to yell over the howling wind and choke a bit.

  Grit enters my mouth and no matter how much I try to spit it back out I find that there is still more. Ami puts her back to the wind and the sand to reply.

  “A sandstorm! Get the clothes inside!” Ami yells back.

  I do as she says, and run to the clotheslines. The wind pelts us with sand as we take things down from the lines and it’s like nothing I have ever felt before. As the grains of sand hit my skin at this high velocity, I feel like it is going to tear through my skin. Agatha joins us in this sand storm, grabbing everything she can. With a basket full of clothes and sand, I reach the kitchen door and toss the clothes inside. Turning to head back Ami stops me.

  “Stay here!” She rushes down into the basement, only to reappear a moment later with a large wooden cover.

  Setting it down, she grabs a small towel and soaks it with water from the sink and then puts it over my nose and mouth, pinning it behind my head and to my shirt.

  “This will keep sand out. You need to go cover the well! Just make sure to use these latches to cinch it down,” she instructs over the howling and demonstrates the latches on the two sides.

  Running through the house I burst out onto the small porch from the living room and use the well cover as a shield to cut a path through the barrage of wind and sand. I fight against the wind and stumble a few times. Reaching the well, I struggle to drop it in place between the two posts but finally get it in place. Using the latches I find two hooks on the well to attach it to.

  Once it is secure, I make my way back to the house, the sand whipping me across the back. When I am inside the living room door I slam it shut and make it back to the kitchen, dropping sand all over along the way.

  “What about the rest of the food?” I ask Ami and Agatha who have retreated inside and are looking out the window of the cl
osed door.

  “We will salvage what we can after the storm has passed.” Agatha looks back at me.

  Though we are safe inside from the storm, it howls outside and rages against the wood panel siding. Removing the wet cloth from my face and placing it on the counter, I move to the window by the sink and stare out at this unlivable environment.

  “This is terrible,” Ami says while staring out the kitchen window. “We’ve been in storms before, but never a sandstorm.”

  “How did you know what it was then?” I ask with a quirked eyebrow.

  “Read about them happening in other parts of the world but there has never been a desert here before,” Ami replies, still transfixed by the world beyond the windows.

  “Shake these clothes off and start hanging them around to dry off,” Evalyn chimes in gruffly.

  The sandstorm rages on and heat seeps in from outside making it very humid in the house while we shake the wet clothes off, sand landing all over on the floor. Draping things all over the room we find everything has become a makeshift drying line. Not a space within the kitchen is showing underneath all of the laundry, even going so far as to take the hanging pots and pans down and putting garments on the hooks. With the three of us working together, it takes a short time to accomplish our task.

  “We’ll have to wait for them to dry completely to get the rest of the sand off,” Evalyn grumbles. “We already have a big enough mess to clean up. Check the house and make sure the windows are closed.”

  Heading off into the house, I follow Ami along the hallway downstairs, leaving Evalyn to take the upstairs so that I do not violate her rule of going near her door. Ami takes the left side while I take the right and we check the windows room by room. Finding the two rooms I am given to check are secured, I meet Ami back out in the hall.

  “Find anything?” I ask her.

  “Nope. You?”

  “All clean, thankfully. Evalyn would probably make me clean it up by hand,” I snicker.

  “Probably,” she grins.

  We return to the living room and stand at the window, watching sand shred through the air, and the sound of it and the wind beating on the house is rather loud.

  “With three mouths to feed, we’re going to have to start rations immediately,” Evalyn barks from behind us, startling us both.

  “Of course,” I reply while looking back outside.

  “This would be easier if you weren’t here,” Evalyn sneers at me.

  “Don’t start with me, Evalyn,” I bark at her, trying to not let her get under my skin.

  “You know, if you died Ami and Agatha would have more food and water,” she snidely comments.

  “We’ve only been here a few minutes and you are threatening me?” Angrily I turn around and cross my arms, scowling. “Back off – we will survive!”

  “He’s right Aunt Evalyn. We’ll get through this as we have with everything else.” Ami backs me up.

  Evalyn crosses her arms and we start a staring contest, but she quickly gives up, huffs and retreats to the kitchen.

  “So you’ve been through things like this before?” I sit down on the couch and look at Ami.

  “We’ve been through tough times before, but never anything like this.” She sits down next to me, crossing her legs. “This storm is going to tear our garden apart and I doubt there will be any apples left to salvage after this is over.”

  “Hmm. Well what now?”

  “Not sure. Nothing important to do until the storm is over.”

  “That is, if it ends?” I question and rest my head against the back of the couch.

  “If it doesn’t our electrical equipment on the roof will fail.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Yes, but there’s no use worrying about it until we can get to it.” She puts her hand on my leg and uses me as a brace to stand up. “I’m going to go take advantage of the light we have up in my sewing room. Want to come with?”

  “I’m going to rest actually. If we’re going to be cleaning things up after the storm I’m going to need my energy,” I stand up with her.

  She nods and we head up the stairs together. As she turns left into her sewing room, I turn right into my room and close the door behind me.

  Taking off my sandy clothes, I head over to the window to peer out as the storm rages on. I throw my dirty laundry in the basket next to my door, shut the light off and I plop down onto my unkempt bed. The wind, though harsh, provides a nice blanket of white noise for me to drown my thoughts in as I stretch and close my eyes. My thoughts turn to this house and its curse.

  What can be done to stop it? How can someone manifest such a power? Though I cannot remember, I have a distinct feeling that such an ability is beyond rare and no one from Emma’s time exhibited anything like it.

  Evalyn knew how to use her power while still alive, but would she be able to use it again even in spiritual form? Or in Agatha’s body? I suppose she will not help since she is intent on making Ami and Agatha’s lives miserable. Maybe I will find someone like her, with an ability that could help us.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  I wake to silence and it’s a welcome lack of sound, though at the moment I cannot hear Ami, Agatha or Evalyn either.

  Sitting slowly up in my bed with my feet on the floor I look out the window to a very strange sight. I see the woods where I was stabbed, but I am on the wrong side of the house. I can see the well in the yard and the path I came from.

  This isn’t right. And what happened to the sand?

  I can see shadows moving in the forest toward the house. I stand up and watch intently. They’re running. As one shadow is about to hit the clearing the other shadow is attacked from behind.

  “Die!” I hear a voice as if whispered in my ear and a sharp pain screams through my body.

  I look down and see that familiar dagger through my abdomen and I am no longer inside the house. Instead I have traded places with the shadow and Drake is behind me gripping the dagger with all his might. I reach my hands up to the dagger, but before I can do anything it is ripped back out of me and I am now trying to contain the blood with my palms. I stumble forward and collapse.

  My eyes snap open and I am in the house again, in my bed and this time I can still hear a very faint rhythmic noise coming from across the hall. Ami is sewing. I sit up slowly, afraid to look out the window, but as I do my eyes are met not with the sight of the forest, but with hills of sand, a rather large embankment of it not far outside the border of our plot of land. The sand has decimated the yard and destroyed the apple tree, but our house still stands in defiance of the sandstorm.

  Standing up my scar protests and I check it. There is no blood, it has not reopened, but it burns as much as the day that I first awoke. Looking for a fresh pair of clothing, I find the lightest clothes I can, a white button up shirt and a pair of thin green pants with a drawstring. But I feel warm, stifled by muggy air in the room and my clothes. I open the door for fresh air but the hallway is no better. Moving over to the sewing room I knock and the rhythmic noise stops.

  “Come in,” she says.

  Upon opening the door my eyes are met with something I’m unprepared for: Ami is in a loose, thin white top that hangs from her shoulders with small straps, her pink brasserie peeking out from the top and sides. With both her undergarment and far more skin showing than I’m accustomed to, I avert my eyes.

  “I…er…I’m sorry, I was not aware that you were not properly dressed. I will wait outside,” I turn around and proceed to exit.

  “What?” She asks.

  “Your shirt,” I reply, my back still to her. “If I had known you were in your nightwear…”

  “Oh it’s not nightwear, just a tank top. It’s meant for warm weather,” I can hear the smile in her voice.

  “Still, it’s a little…exposing.”

  “I suppose it is, but you can’t expect me to wear anything more in this heat.” She laughs a little.

  �
��I guess not. This heat is sweltering.”

  “Does it make you uncomfortable seeing me in this?” I can hear her voice take a slightly taunting tone. “Because I might just wear it more.”

  “Whatever comes out of my mouth will sound insulting, so I will instead keep my comments to myself.”

  “Well, don’t worry Rain. I’m making up some more protective sets of clothing for the three of us so we can combat the desert.” She becomes more excited.

  “Protective? It sounds like you are preparing to go out into the desert.”

  “Perhaps we are. We need to know if there is anything out there don’t we?” She picks up her sewing again.

  “Are we in trouble being here? I mean, will we be okay?” I ask, while looking from her sewing room out through the window in mine.

  “We haven’t faced a desert before, but I’m certain we will survive just fine.” Her confidence is infectious and I can feel my mental strength bolstered.

  “I should head down and see if Agatha or Evalyn need my help with anything.” I take a step forward but she stops me again.

  “I make you nervous still, don’t I?” The smile returns to her voice.

  “Pardon?” My own voice wavers a little.

  “You’ve been here two months now, but you still act like we’re strangers sometimes. You must not have had much female interaction in your previous life.” Her machine stops.

  “I…” I begin to respond but words elude me.

  She shuffles, and before I know it I have been attacked from behind. Her arms are thrown around me and she squeezes her arms, pulling her body into my back. I feel my face become hotter than it already is, due to the blood rushing to my cheeks.

  “You may not realize it, but I’m glad you’re here Rain,” she says quietly.

  “I’m glad I am here too Ami.” I place one of my hands on her arms. “Without you and your mother I would have nothing to live for.”

  She removes her arms and she gives me a playful little shove from behind to help me out the door. As I turn around to see what that was about she smiles and closes the door slightly, sticking her face in the opening between the door and doorjamb.