by Rachel Wells
“What’s this?” Mandy asked Nana.
“Just a welcome home present, Mandy. That’s a hope chest. It’s been in our family for years and years. I thought you would like it. Maybe you could find some use for it, as I didn’t really.” Nana’s eyes crinkled again.
“Thanks, Nana. That’s great!”
Just then Mandy’s dad appeared at the door with Mandy’s suitcases. He dropped them down next to the bed. “Hey, nice crib!” he exclaimed with a grin.
“Dad, please stop trying to use slang,” Mandy sighed.
“Well, I’ll leave you to unpacking, Pumpkin. When you’re done come on downstairs. I’m making a batch of my spicy spaghetti for dinner, your favorite,” Nana declared.
“’Kay. I’ll be down soon, Nana.”
They left Mandy alone in her new surroundings. She crossed the room and pushed open the fluttering curtains. The cool sea air blew in causing Mandy to recoil a bit. She had a nice view of the ocean from here. She couldn’t help but feel that it would be even nicer if the sun were around to light it up for her. She watched the waves rolling in on top of themselves for a few minutes while she soaked up all the newness. She really should go unpack. Obviously, her parents and Nana were set on staying. Mandy turned reluctantly from the window to get her suitcases, but her eyes fell on the antique trunk.
Mandy crossed the room and knelt down in front of it. She reached out and traced her fingers lightly across the intricate carving. It felt smooth and somehow the motion of tracing the trailing vines seemed to relax Mandy. She unhooked the latch in front and pushed the top back on its old hinges, bronze with rust and time. Mandy inhaled, surprised at the beautiful color the trunk’s insides held. It was lined with ruby red satin, but was empty besides. The fabric looked luxurious, warm, and inviting with its lovely, deep red color. Mandy reached in and couldn’t help caressing it a little. As she did so, she was almost convinced that she caught a whiff of something seeping out from the trunk itself. At first it just seemed to be a heady, dusty, old smell. Musky, perhaps. But as she tried to grasp it further and inhaled it deeper, it definitely took a turn towards a rose like perfume, sweet yet spicy, intermingled with evergreen. A certain saltiness clung to it. Mandy sniffed again, but the odd incense seemed to have dissipated. Huh, Mandy thought. Wonder what used to be in this box? She’d have to ask Nana later. Right now her thickly piled suitcases were calling her. She closed the trunk and went to tackle unpacking.
* * *
Chapter 2
Mandy had finished putting her clothes away in her closet and was downstairs in the cheerfully outfitted kitchen, stirring Nana’s spaghetti sauce slowly, around and around in the big black pot. She could already smell the spiciness and could almost feel it pricking her tongue. Mandy realized she was starving.
“Ok, Sugarcake. That should be all set. You can turn the burner off. Let’s eat!” Nana enthused.
Mandy nodded and did as she was told. A few minutes later and they were all seated around the kitchen table with heaping platefuls of Nana’s spaghetti in front of them. Mandy began to dig in right away. Nana’s spaghetti always hit the spot. Spicy, but with a hint of sweetness. Actually, that reminded her of the trunk now. She slurped in her noodles and swallowed quickly, eager to ask Nana more about that weird trunk up in her room. “Nana, where’d you get that trunk, or hope chest, again?” Mandy asked.
“Oh, that, dear, has been in our family for generations now. I don’t really know how long or exactly where it came from. Charming, isn’t it?” Nana mused.
“Yeah, actually I opened it and I thought I smelled something…kind of flowery, but not completely…” Mandy trailed off.
Nana just nodded at her and took another mouthful of spaghetti.
“Well, do you know what used to be in there? Or what it was used for, Nana?” Mandy pressed.
“Well, it could have been used for a great many things, dear. I’m not really sure, to be completely honest. It’s so old I’m sure it holds the secrets of time itself!” Nana’s eyes crinkled up again. “Maybe once you get to know the chest it will reveal itself to you.”
Mandy looked at her Nana and nodded, a half-smile on her face. Nana had always been a bit bewildering. She had the habit of saying odd things, or being a bit dramatic, even superstitious at times. Mandy chalked it up to her age. Old people could be kind of weird. But what could you expect, they were like living legends. People from a different era. “So, Nana, what’s my schedule gonna look like for Dew Drops?” Mandy inquired.
“Oh, yes, I’m so excited you and your mother will be working with us! I’ll get the schedule for you, Hon.” Nana pushed her chair back, scraping it across the tiled floor. She came back with two printouts, one for Mandy, and one for her mother. “I know you’ll be starting school in a few weeks, dear. So for now I’ve got you on five days a week, but once school’s back in session it will be reduced to three days during the week after school and Saturdays for a few hours. Will that be all right or is it too much?”
“No, Nana. That should be fine. Thanks.”
“Well, this will be fun!” Mandy’s mother chimed in. “Nice to be able to have some scheduled girl bonding time.” Her mother smiled.
“Um, yeah, Mom.” Mandy nodded.
“Just make sure you leave time for your school obligations, Mandster. Don’t want your grades slipping senior year,” Mandy’s dad added.
“I will Dad. Would it be okay if I went into town tonight? Just to walk around. You know, get more familiar with it all?” Mandy asked.
“Sure. Do you want me to go with you? We could go scouting for cool shells in the souvenir shops,” her mom offered.
“No, that’s okay. I think I might just wander around tonight. Take in the nightlife,” Mandy joked. “Do you mind if I take your car though?”
“Oh, Mandy, dear, I forgot to give you one other welcome home present,” Nana chimed in. “Before you leave, you may want it.”
“Um, okay,” Mandy answered. What was her Nana going to give her now? A charm bracelet filled with the ocean water too? Mandy grimaced inwardly.
“Follow me, dear.” Nana led the way to the garage with Mandy and her parents trailing behind. Once there Mandy saw a familiar looking car parked inside it. An ’87 Buick Lesabre, cherry red interior and faux wood paneling on the dashboard. Papa’s old car. The Boat. That’s the secret name Mandy had always kept for it in her head. “Surprise, dear! This is yours now. Papa doesn’t have any need for it any longer where he is, and I already have my own car. Thought you might like to have your own transportation for senior year.”
“Wow, Nana, really?” Mandy was excited by the prospect, but the tiniest bit humiliated at the same time. She would be the captain of the Boat. Okay, at least she had a car to drive, but this might get her ridiculed. Well, she would just have to suck it up. Mandy didn’t want to hurt Nana’s feelings. She would just have to look at it as what it was intended for, transportation. So what if it was old and big and awkward?
“Yes, dear. I had Duke inspect it down at the station, just to make sure it was still in good running order. He said it’s practically good as new. Should still have a long life ahead of it.”
Great, Mandy thought as she smiled at Nana. “Thanks Nana! So nice of you!” Mandy hugged Nana.
“Go! Go try it out!” Nana enthused.
“Don’t stay out too late!” Mandy’s mom reminded her.
“Do you have your cell phone, just in case?” Mandy’s dad asked.
Yes, Captain Cautious, Mandy thought. “Yup, right here, Dad.”
“All right, well have fun! Don’t keep the good townsfolk up too late!” Mandy’s dad chuckled at his lame attempt at humor.
The key was in the ignition waiting for Mandy. She slid onto the velvet red seats and was happy they weren’t leather. Leather would be colder. Colder was the last thing Mandy needed right now. She pushed the lever up on the heater to the red end and turned it up as high as it would allow. She backed slowly out of
the garage, watching her little family waving at her. This little town was perfect for them--they were so Leave it to Beaver. She faked a happy smile and waved back to appease them. And then she was alone, just her and the Boat free to go wherever she wanted.
Mandy was tempted to get back on the highway and head south towards Boston. But she knew she really couldn’t. She had nowhere to go there now. So, on to the wild town of York, she thought to herself.
It only took Mandy a matter of minutes to reach the center of the small seaside town. She parked in the municipal parking lot and started digging around in her pockets for change to feed the meters. She found three quarters and plunked them in. She could hear the swings creaking behind her from the neighboring playground and the cries as happy, dirty kids played on the equipment, clearly enjoying themselves. Mandy didn’t know exactly what she was doing here. It was actually kind of awkward being alone in this town. Everywhere she looked she saw families or couples, leisurely strolling up and down the side walked streets, window shopping or slurping ice cream cones. This town hadn’t changed a bit since Mandy had first started coming here as a child. It was almost as if it was frozen in time.
Many of the stores were souvenir shops stuffed with buckets and shelves overflowing with seashells and dried starfish, or little replicas of the lighthouse. The smell of scented soaps and candles drifted out from the opening and closing doors, accompanied by the jingle of bells hung there. Mandy used to love these shops as a little girl. The fact that the merchandise never varied made no difference to her then. She reveled in digging through all the shiny seashells, looking for the prettiest, or the biggest, or the shiniest. She had a jar filled with all her treasure accumulated from all her trips to this town.
Nestled in between these little shops were other shops that had been here for too long as well. T-shirt shops, a toy store, the one coffee shop, a jewelry shop, Nana’s flower shop, and a few restaurants. Of course there was the famous Golden Rod restaurant that had been standing and operating since the dawn of York. People loved to stare in the windows of the restaurant because it was there you could watch the taffy machines pulling and twisting, cutting and wrapping fresh made saltwater taffy. It was fascinating to watch, even now, after witnessing it so many times. The long metal arms of the machine pulled and pulled the shiny, gooey, stringy looking substance over and over, over and over again. In another machine you could watch as a round log of this stuff was smashed through to a narrower opening where it was cut and rolled into the little white papers, falling into a pile below. People were always huddled around the big picture window, watching. Before long they would be drawn inside by the delicious scent of the taffy, a strong caramel-like smell, or perhaps that was molasses? Whatever the smell was, it lured the people inside like bees to clover. They would purchase their one-pound box of taffy that they had just watched get made. The white box with an illustration of the Golden Rod on its lid would be handed to them, a skinny rubber band just barely holding in all its sweet and chewy goodness inside the little box. As soon as they would leave with their purchase, the hands of the little children would eagerly be in the air, asking for a piece so they could try the delectable treat. Mandy remembered all this clearly, for once she had been a little girl watching those machines as well.
She walked past it now, barely glancing at the window and its throng of admirers, and headed down the street. She saw Bill and Bob’s jewelry store across the road and fondly remember that store as well. Its appearance had changed; they had renovated, but it was the same faces working behind the counters. The little shop was always crowded as well. They specialized in sterling silver jewelry, handmade there themselves, by Bill, or maybe Bob…truth was no one was sure who was who, but everyone loved the jewelry; children, women, old ladies, or guys looking for a pretty bauble for their significant other. It was filled with all kinds of eye-catching pieces, one of a kind. Dainty starfish immortalized in silver dangling from a pair of earring hooks, silver sand dollar charms, silver bracelets with abalone shell links gleaming up at you with their colors swirling and mingling together in the most elegant way. Then there was Mandy’s favorite part of the store, still exactly the same as she remembered it, besides the prices that had since sky rocketed: the counter on which you could find a box of child sized rings. It was piled high in a mish-mashed heap, the gleaming, little silver circles caught the eyes of most young girls who entered the store. Mandy remembered standing at that counter with her Nana so many years ago, pawing through the lovely pile, looking for the perfect ring. She always knew it when she saw it. Some years it had been a single thin band tied up in an intricate knot at the top, some years it had been a simple, twisted vine to encircle her pinkie finger, or sometimes it had been a silver loop encircling the most enchanting looking faux pearl, gem, or rock. Nana would let her stand there until she tired of trying on all the pretty rings and had finally settled on that particular summer’s perfect find.
Mandy paused at the window for a moment, looking and remembering. She wasn’t here for jewelry tonight though, so she walked on. She didn’t really have any one reason for coming into town tonight, other than to just get away from the newness of the house and be alone. The town felt familiar, unlike her new house. She already had memories made in the sleepy little town. She would just have to get used to the fact that she now lived in it.
Up ahead Mandy could see the town’s little zoo and amusement park, York’s Wild Animal Kingdom. The sun was setting in the cloudy sky, making the gray seem more defined. Against this backdrop the Ferris wheel was spinning, uninhibited by the gloomy evening, its lights all aglow. Mandy imagined there were probably future classmates riding the wheel now, perhaps happy couples. Mandy wished she was half of a pair now. Some company other than her family might be nice.
The high-pitched yipping of a little dog stole Mandy’s attention. She looked towards the direction of the noise and saw a little Chihuahua sitting up on its haunches, pawing at the air. A thin leather leash was attached to his collar, leading up to a squat looking older woman sitting on a chair next to a round table. Her tan skin was wrinkled like she had smoked too much or sat out in the sun for too long, or maybe both. Her black hair was too long for her age and pulled back into a low ponytail. Her eyes were like two dark marbles watching Mandy. Across the little table sat an older man with coarse looking gray hair in a bad attempt at a comb-over. He was wearing a brightly colored shirt that was unbuttoned a few too many buttons, showing off tan skin that matched the woman’s, but it was buried in gray fuzz. In the fuzz rested too many glimmering gold chains. The dog yipped again and pawed the air. This was the one shop that never seemed to really fit in among all the other familiar ones, the one Mandy had never visited. A paste-board white sign propped up on the table promised “Psychic Readings by Ms. Ophelia”. In front of the sign sat a glass ball; Mandy supposed it was a gaudy attempt at a crystal ball. Mandy realized she was staring and quickly turned her head and stumbled a bit backwards.
“Don’t worry, he won’t bite. He’s actually very gentle. He’s been waiting for you; I think he must want to say hello,” the bronze lady said.
Mandy took another slow step back. “Waiting for me?” she asked.
“You are Dolly’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. You know Nana then.”
Ms. Ophelia chuckled. “Oh yes, Dolly and I go way back.”
At this the man got up suddenly and disappeared behind the curtain that hung in the doorway. “Have a seat,” Ms. Ophelia offered.
“Oh, actually, I really should get going. It’s getting late and…”
“Don’t worry, Mandy. I know your Nana wouldn’t mind.” Ms. Ophelia’s marble eyes burned intently on Mandy, who hesitantly made her way to the now open chair, wondering all the while how she could respectfully excuse herself from this awkwardness. As she sat she could smell a strong incense burning. It felt as if it was singing her nostrils. It must be coming from behind the curtain where the old man
had vanished to.
“Reading on me. What would you like to know? Past, present, or future?” asked Ms. Ophelia.
“Oh, I don’t really bel…”
“You don’t believe in that stuff, I know. But you will. Don’t be shy. Let me see your palm, Mandy,” Ms. Ophelia instructed.
Obediently Mandy gave the psychic her hand, palm up. Ms. Ophelia took it in her own hand, which was a bit too hot, like she had a fever. She began to trace the lines in Mandy’s palm with her fingernail, which was slightly too long and painted a shocking shade of fuscia. Mandy stared, mesmerized by the fingernail. They were almost like talons.
Ms. Ophelia inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, all the while her claw-like nail still making invisible pictures on Mandy’s palm. “Ah, yes, I see it as I knew I would,” she breathed.
“See what?” Mandy asked, curious in spite of her pessimism.
“Shh,” commanded Ms. Ophelia. She breathed in and out slowly, her nostrils flaring. The little dog cocked his head and whined. Mandy was feeling more and more uncomfortable as this continued for what felt like an hour, but was in actuality only about two minutes. Ms. Ophelia’s eyes suddenly snapped open.
“It’s very clear to me, Mandy, but it won’t be so soon to you. In time it will reveal itself to you.”
“Who will reveal what to me?”
“Your lines, your roots here, are long and deep. You cannot deny who you are and what you are destined to become. It’s why you are here. You must uncover your past to reveal your future.”