“Lunch.” He opens the satchel, pulls out fruit salad, bottled water, and four red apples, setting them on the ground. Then, he shakes a blanket out, constructing a makeshift picnic for us to sit on.
“You're too much,” I giggle.
Jack beams and hands me a bottle of water. We eat our lunch in comfortable silence while we enjoy each other’s company in the peaceful landscape around us. I look over to Jack to see he has a serious look on his face.
“What?” I pry. Something appears to be bothering him.
“Do you ever feel like you were meant for a bigger purpose?” he utters in a low voice.
“Whoa, Jack. Are we getting deep here?” I joke.
Jack turns to me, straight-faced. “I’m serious. I mean, you’re about to turn twenty. Your life's going to change. Do you honestly want to keep up with your reckless habits? Or do you want to turn yourself around and accomplish something significant? Who do you want to be, Ivy?”
“Where's this coming from?”
What a cliché he’s using to ‘keep me clean.'
Jack doesn’t answer me as he waits for my reply. “Look. I’ve never been the type to plan ahead. I've always gone with the flow and enjoyed my life.”
“Enjoy? Like how you’re always running from something?”
He knows I’m paranoid. Anxiety builds in my throat, making it tight and hard to breathe.
“What are you running from, Ivy?” My mouth hangs open. “You can tell me. I promise not to judge. We all have our own skeletons.”
I know I'm going to sound insane when I tell him the truth. Alright. Here we go. This will surely test his friendship towards me.
“I… I smoke pot because it keeps away my paranoia. I know that’s odd because most people claim it makes them paranoid, but not me. It numbs my senses. I can see myself from a different perspective and navigate through my fears easier.” I can’t look him in the eyes from the fear he’ll think I'm crazy. I focus on a blade of grass I'm tearing apart in my fingers as I continue, “Without it, I feel like…like someone's watching me. Like someone's after me. And even if I’m numb or not, I have night terrors about things I wake up screaming from. I’m surprised Alice never told you. I know she’s heard me, but she seems to know I don’t want to be coddled. She’s never come to check on me, but I know she’s heard me. And now, I sound like a lunatic, and I’m rambling.”
Jack sits up straighter with intrigue, “What do you dream about?”
“It’s stupid shit really,” I brush off.
“If it frightens you, it’s not stupid. Tell me.” He grabs my hand to pull my attention, but I still can’t look him in the eye.
This is so embarrassing. I groan.
“I dream about darkness.”
“Darkness?” he echoes.
“Well, it appears to be a man, but I can only see his silhouette. It’s always too dark to make out any of his features. Except, he has large wings like a giant bird… and his eyes glow red with fire. Every time I see him, I feel paralyzed, I can’t move, or even scream. He watches and hovers over me, torturing me with the wait for him to attack. Then, he screams so loud it pierces my ears. He’ll dive down with his mouth open unnaturally wide to consume me whole, and I wake up cold, out of breath, and like an elephant sat on my chest.”
“How many times have you had this dream?”
“I don’t know. A lot. I guess it started about three or four years ago.” I glance up to see his reaction.
“Sixteen,” Jack mumbles. His face goes white, and his eyes are distant.
“Yeah. I guess,” I answer. “You think I’m crazy now, huh?”
Jack snaps his head to me. “No.” His chest rumbles from the low growl of his voice. “You’re not crazy… You’re special. Different.”
I give him a sardonic scowl. “You mean, I’m a freak.”
“No. Unique. That's what pulled me to you when we first met. It felt like gravity—Strong. Heavy. I knew you were different.”
“How?” I urge, acknowledging the present pull between us in silence.
“I can’t tell you everything yet, but I think the nightmares you’ve been having are not actual nightmares. They could be omens,” he specifies without reservation.
“Like I’m psychic? Is that what you’re saying?” I observe with cynicism.
“No. Psychics are fake.”
“Oh, and premonitions are real?” I counter.
“Yes, but premonitions are more exact. Omens are symbolic,” he corrects me.
“So, something really is after me?” I roll my eyes in irritation. Jack avoids answering me and loses himself in thought. I don’t know how to respond to what he’s telling me.
This is crazy!
He gives my hands a squeeze before continuing, “What if I told you that you are different? You're different in a way that I'm different. You’re like me, but there's something else about you I can’t figure out. I think you were pulled to Red Meadow for a reason—so I can protect you.”
What are you talking about?
“I told you I come from a family of soldiers. We're protectors. And we're not a normal family. We don’t come from around here.”
“What are you saying, Jack? Like fate? How am I like you? I’ve seen your strength firsthand, and I’ve felt the same pull towards you that you’re talking about. What are you? What am I?” He's scaring me with his assumptions.
Is he fucking with me?
“In some ways, we're the same, but there's something about you that's different,” he claims, self-assured.
“Enough with the vague answers, Jack. If you know what's going on with me, then you need to tell me.”
“I’m not sure what you are, precisely. There are a few comparable traits we share, but in my core, I can feel you’re different. And I’m afraid if I reveal too much to you there will be consequences which may hinder your developing abilities.”
“Developing abilities? Are you saying I can do more than dream of omens?” I'm near to having an out of body experience.
This can’t be real.
“Yes. What you’ll be capable of is uncertain. But, I know besides the omens, you heal at an accelerated rate which is much faster than the average human.” Jack reaches out and brushes a wisp of hair from my face with his fingertips. “Let me do some digging. I’ll find the answers you're looking for. And when it’s time, I'll tell you everything you need to know.”
His touch overwhelms my want for him, sending tingles throughout my body. “Jack?" I whisper. "What is this? What are we doing?” I want to crawl into his lap and cry. This new development's making me want him even more, knowing he feels the same pull towards me I feel towards him, and I may be like him in some unnaturally human way. I can’t explain the different feelings swarming me all at once. My insides clench.
“What do you mean?” he wonders as his hand stills against my cheek.
“Are we just friends? Are you just supposed to be my protector now? I’m finding it extremely difficult to not cross a line with you. The more we’re together, the more I want. Like you said, it feels like gravity pulling me to you, but stronger, heavier. I have this feeling in my gut I can’t explain. It's an intuitive sense that we're meant to be a part of each other's lives. And you make me want more, even against my better judgment. Only, you treat me as a friend, and I see you with other girls… It’s maddening!”
I can’t believe I just told him all of that. What's happening to me?
Jack leans in, an inch from my body, and I feel the heat radiating off of his skin. He tilts my chin up, so I’ll look him in the eyes. His green irises captivate me. “I thought you didn’t look at me that way.”
“As hard as I try, I can’t keep myself from it. You’re all I think about,” I admit with a soft whisper as my heart pounds inside my chest.
Jack leans forward, our noses a hair’s breath away from each other as he looks me in the eyes and whispers, “It’s taken all the strength I have to restrain myself fro
m you… Why are we still torturing ourselves?”
I bite my bottom lip. “I don’t know anymore.” I lean into him, closing my eyes, and the softest pressure of his lips caress mine. I'm overcome with the fluttering in my core as warmth consumes my body. Jack cradles my face with his hand and entangles his fingers in my hair, loosening my braid. Our lips brush back and forth, making me more desperate to be closer to him. My tongue touches his lips, enticing them to part, and he submits to my invitation. His hands slide to the back of my hair as he tilts his head, pulling me to him and kissing me deeper. My entire body's tingling and on fire. Our tongues move together, eager for more. I move up to my knees without breaking our kiss and straddle his lap. I still can’t get close enough. My hands grip his shirt. Jack moans deep, his chest rumbling as his hands smooth over my back to rest on my hips. With his taut and strong body beneath me, a tingle shoots up my spine. He pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. Panting in the small space between us, I open my eyes and sit up to see his face. His gaze is steady as I watch his irises lighten from dark green to a bright hue, and the sunlight shines on the divine features of his face.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you,” Jack confesses, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smug smile.
“It’s been a cruel few weeks for me too.”
Maximus whinnies from behind Jack, and he turns to check on my stead. Jack’s body goes rigid underneath me, his focus distant. “We need to get back,” he notes.
“Ok.” I stand up, and Jack follows me over to untie our horses from the trees.
The ride back to the barn is faster than I expect. I'm struck with a sense of calm, even with the unexpected events unfolding through the day. We slow down to a leisure stride as we approach the barn.
“You know, you can come out and ride Max anytime you want. He would love the exercise.”
“Really?” I glance at Jack in question, and he nods. “Thank you.” I pet Max’s neck, “Would you like that, Max?” We fall into a comfortable silence. Yet, Jack's visibly lost in thought again.
“I’m sorry I can’t give you more answers, Ivy. Believe me, I want to tell you everything. This is just something you’ll have to discover on your own until I can find out more,” he apologizes again, and I nod in acceptance.
How am I supposed to figure this out on my own?
We arrive at the back entrance of the barn, dismount, and lead our horses to their respective stalls. I secure Max’s reigns and undress him. His coat's matted down with sweat. I take the saddle and girth back to the tack room and position them on an available sawhorse. I grab a red halter and lead, and take it back to Maximus, placing the halter over his bridle and securing the lead in place of the reigns. Unbuckling his bridle, I slide it over his ears, under the harness, and off of his nose. Max shakes his head in relief, and I rub his nose and coo, “Good boy. That feels better, doesn’t it?”
Taking the bridle back to the tack room, Jack's putting away his saddle. “I think I want to go get cleaned up,” I tell him.
“Ok.” Jack grabs my hand, and we retire to the manor. “I’m gonna grab a drink. Do you want anything?”
“Water?” He lets go of my hand as I follow him into the kitchen. The dark wooden cabinetry is complimented by the white and brown marble countertops and stainless steel appliances. A wide marble island in the center of the kitchen is surrounded by four white, leather, high back stools on one side. On top of the island sits a bouquet of blue Forget Me Not flowers, arranged elegantly in a white vase. Jack retrieves two bottles of water from the refrigerator and hands me one. I twist the cap off and chug, letting the ice cold liquid cool my throat.
“I’ve got some stuff to take care of. Can I come get you later?” His cheeks dimple.
I pull the bottle from my lips, “Yeah. That’s fine.”
Jack draws me to him by the hand, and his delicate kiss tingles my lips, creating a fire within me. My knees threaten to buckle once again. He pulls back to add, “I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah. Ok.”
He kisses me on the forehead and leaves the room. I smile and run up to my room—taking two stairs at a time—to get cleaned up. I can’t stop smiling with giddiness as I involuntarily blush. I strip off my riding clothes and pull my braid all the way apart. I retrieve my robe off of the floor where I had left it and enter the bathroom to take a shower.
After cleaning up and dressing, I sit on the balcony in need of fresh air. Chain smoking, my mind reels with thoughts. I should have been honest with him from the beginning. What is he? What am I? I'm overwhelmed with questions. A fleeting thought crosses my mind to numb myself and forget how crazy I sound. I promised Jack I wouldn’t. If I’m not normal, is it something passed down from my birth parents? I’ve never tried to look for them before. Maybe it’s time… Maybe I shouldn’t. What am I going to say? “Hi! I’m your daughter! I’m some kind of freak, but I don’t know what I am! Are you a freak too?” I roll my eyes at the thought.
My stomach growls with hunger. I hope Jack won’t mind if I raid his kitchen. The house is quiet as I tiptoe down the stairs. I can’t decide what I want to eat, but I don’t want to make a mess attempting to cook. I snatch an apple from the countertop beside the electric stove and lean against the marble counter of the island as I devour the apple while trying to clear my head.
I toss the core into the trash, opting to give myself a tour, and meander across the foyer into the entertainment room. There's a lot more space than what I could see from the entrance of the house. A massive fireplace is centered on the far wall with a brown leather sofa and two Chesterfield armchairs across from each other before it. I examine the room and spot a black grand piano in the back. Drawn to it, but not sure if I should touch it, I drift over and run my hands across its smooth, glossy, black surface. I prop the top board open and peer inside the belly of the beauty. It's been well taken care of. I glance around the room and listen to make sure no one's around. The house rests in silent stillness. I sit on the bench and open the fallboard to reveal the keys. Seeing the black and ivory pattern makes me long to hear the resonance of the Baldwin.
I rest my fingertips across the keys—a whisper of a touch—and find the starting position I want. I let out a long breath to calm my nerves and test the action of the pedals at my feet. My left hand plays lower keys with tepid warmth as my right hand joins in to play the upper keys, creating a tranquil melody. The reverberation is majestically distinguished. My heart slows its beating as my fingers float up and down the keys to a soft classical melody while my body sways with the composition. I'm immersed in the music and finish the piece with my closed lips widening in accomplishment.
“That was exquisite, my dear,” a throaty, female voice calls out.
Startled by the raspy voice, I twist in a jerk to see a tall and slender woman in her late twenties with glowing, long, blonde waves. Her hands are clasped together against her chest as her smile reaches her eyes. Jack stands behind her with his hands on her shoulders, grinning at me as well.
They have the same eyes. Are they related?
I rise with a jolt in apprehensive intimidation and stutter, “I…I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, dear. It’s been years since this home was filled with its resonance, and you play beautifully.”
I'm flattered with her words. “Thank you,” I accept with a slight bow of my head.
“Ivy. This is my mother, Evelyn Roe. Mother, this is Ivy,” Jack introduces us.
Mother? She's so young! Is she like you? I step forward to shake her hand, and she surprises me with a tight embrace. I hesitate with the awkwardness of the situation, but relent and timidly wrap my arms around her. I'm seized with the same warmth Jack emits as it seeps into my bones, making me relax. It must be associated with what they are.
Evelyn pulls back and clasps both of my hands between us. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Ivy. Jack speaks of you fondly. I was beginning to won
der if I would ever get to meet you.”
Huh. No tingle.
“Mother,” Jack whines, and she gives me a knowing smile.
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I begin to blush. He tells her about me?
“It’s very nice to meet you as well, Ms. Roe.”
“Would you mind playing for me one more time?” she requests.
“Sure.” I trail back to the bench and sit down. Jack leads Ms. Roe by the arm to a high back chair adjacent from the piano and stands beside her.
I ready my hands above the keys and begin to play one of my favorite classics by Erik Satie. It's an easy piece I know I won't mess up with my nervousness. The room fills with the cascading sounds from the piano while the setting sun shines through the windows and permeates the room. The very air appears to glisten. I begin the introduction of the piece—a sotto voce, largo tempo—and play the slow, progressive crescendo. The cascade of notes is a flowing river. Music saturates the air, the room, the house. Sound and light fuse together invisibly, but quite palpably.
Evelyn closes her eyes in reflection while Jack smiles at this new discovery I had been keeping from him. I knew the piece well and had played it countless times before. I love the flow and calm of it. It soaks me with a sense of wellbeing and harmony that I hope can make Ms. Roe feel the same way. I hold the last notes with my eyes closed, reveling in the emotions it elicits.
I glance to Evelyn and Jack for their reactions. Ms. Roe opens her eyes and gives a tender applaud. Jack joins her display of appreciation.
“Thank you.” My cheeks warm as I close the fallboard.
“Lovely, dear,” Ms. Roe approves.
“You surprise me again, Sunshine.” Jack's eyes twinkle, and I bow my head to shy away from the complement.
“I feel pleasingly well today. Ivy, would you join us for dinner?” Ms. Roe doesn’t look to Jack for his approval, but I can see the surprise in his expression.
“I would love to.”
“Wonderful. Jack?” She turns to him, “How would you feel about accommodating us with your excellent culinary skills?”
The Helio Trilogy: Volumes 1-3 Page 9