Enchanted Summer

by Samantha Rose

  Contents

  Note from the author

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three*

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  *Explanation For Chapter Twenty-Three

  Enchanted Summer

  © 2020 by Samantha Rose

  Cover design by Natalia Egunova

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Note from the author

  This is a stand-alone book, but it’s also a spin-off to my other novel, Campfire Stories.

  Both books can be read as stand-alones, and both contain slight spoilers to each other.

  If you’ve already read Campfire Stories, you will find the full explanation for what happened there in this book.

  One

  Something was wrong with that big old tree in the front yard.

  First of all, Nate was pretty much sure that just a few weeks ago it had been dead. Of course, he was nowhere near being an expert on nature, but its withered branches dangling lifelessly in the wind, totally naked in times when all the other trees in the neighborhood got covered in fresh green leaves and celebrated the start of the summer, seemed to be indicative enough.

  It hunched by the house, threatening to tumble down and smash through the roof at the slightest gust of wind. Its bark had chipped in a few places. Neighbors walked by, casting accusatory glances at the tree and its owner, muttering something about him needing to get rid of it, and fast. Nate himself knew that he had to chop the old willow down, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt a weird connection to it, as if he could somehow understand its pain, and felt sorry for it.

  But then, one day, things had started to change.

  Coming out onto the front porch one early morning, Nate noticed that the gangly branches, utterly dead just a few hours ago, were veiled by a barely visible green haze. Coming closer, he realized that those were tiny leaves coming out of the buds, which had been nonexistent the previous night. Marveling at nature and its mysterious ways, Nate left for work. And when he returned home that night, the tree was overgrown with lush greenery, its revived branches cascading into the garden.

  Healthy and happy, it stood tall, and its missing bark had grown back again. It greeted Nate by whispering something on the wind.

  Since that day, the whole garden had started to transform.

  First, the grass—Nate could swear it became shorter and softer, as if one day it had just decided to shrink in size. Same did the bushes that had not been trimmed in years. Again, Nate had no idea how such things were possible, but nature was full of wonders.

  The garden itself was messy. Neglected for years by its previous owner, it was in need of serious time and money investment, none of which Nate could afford.

  But somehow, everything got cleaned up by itself, and on top of that, strange flowers had sprouted here and there. They looked like something straight out of a fairytale, as they seemed to be carved from jewels and glowed faintly in the dark. Nate didn’t know what to make of it all.

  Neighbors now stared and gossiped even more. Spending most of his time at work and rarely bumping into anyone upon returning, Nate still caught glimpses of their conversations. Some had even approached him to ask how much the renovation cost, or what was the name of those beautiful flowers, but Nate could only shrug and shake his head in an answer to that. He had no idea where those changes came from, but he sure knew that he had nothing to do with them.

  The house used to belong to his aunt. Some time ago, she’d married for the second time and moved to another country, leaving the property to her nephew. Nate had barely had any contact with her in the past few years, as she moved a lot and was busy with her own life while he had his own issues to deal with, but he remembered visiting her in this house a few times when he was little. The house didn’t change much since then.

  Nevertheless, he was thankful to his aunt. To move as far away from everything and everyone he knew had seemed to be the best idea at the time. He’d packed up only the essentials and hopped on a plane without much thought.

  The realization hit him later, when he’d unlocked the door and entered the house. It smelled of dust and some scented candles his aunt liked to burn while she still occupied it.

  And in the living room, among the floral sofa set, glass coffee table, and lace window treatments, stood a giant piano. Shivers crept down Nate’s spine as he recognized it. Remembered the note pinned to it.

  To Nathaniel.

  That’s when he knew—no matter where he would go, his problems would follow.

  That first night, he opened all of the windows in the house to let the fresh air in. He turned the lights off so that it wouldn’t draw too many insects. Lace curtains swayed on the breeze as he approached the piano. Carefully opened the lid. Ran his finger across the keyboard. Let out an uneven breath and lowered himself onto a bench—as if not to play but just to spend some time with the piano. Be its friend for the night.

  The melody came from the depths of his mind and unfolded slowly, his fingers striking the keyboard almost blindly in the moonlight. He went with the mood of it, curious where it would take him. Funny how the night had this effect on people, making them forget their daily struggles for a moment and get lost in their dreams and desires.

  Nate thought he would never play a musical instrument again in his life, and there he was, composing music on the go, experimenting with it just like he used to in his childhood years. A strange feeling of calm overtook him, dousing him in almost a trance state.

  He didn’t know what had gotten into him that night. At dusk, his anxiety returned, and he didn’t touch the piano since then, though the urge to do that, to return into that magical state got to him from time to time.

  Nate drowned it out with busywork. Working at the local diner during the day, trying to make some friends in a new town, and cleaning up the house at night and on his rare days off, he’d barely even noticed how the days melted into each other and spring had gradually turned into summer.

  Two

  Another day was coming to an end, and Nate was wiping the tables in the already empty diner.

  Ray—his coworker and almost the only friend he had made in the past few weeks—wiped the bar counter, talking non-stop about his girlfriend, Hanna. They’d been together for eight years and had known each other from early childhood. Nate found it pretty impressive, though he felt like he would prefer for Ray to change the topic at least once. But he couldn’t blame him—Hanna was finishing the semester at her university, and Ray was about to drive and pick her up to bring her back
home for the summer. They obviously hadn’t seen each other for a long time, and he was missing her.

  “Anyway,” Ray was saying, changing the topic abruptly. “When Hanna is here, we can all go ghost hunting. I’m sure she will enjoy that.”

  “Ghost hunting?” Nate raised an eyebrow at his friend.

  “In your house,” Ray clarified, looking as nonchalant as ever. “To figure out what’s going on there.”

  Nate chuckled. They’d had this conversation too many times, but in a small town where a cat stuck on a tree was the biggest news everyone talked about, his mystically renewed garden became somewhat a sensation.

  “If I were you,” Ray went on, ignoring Nate’s facial expression, “I would’ve already installed webcams everywhere.”

  “And you think a ghost would show on a camera?” Nate said, for no reason other than to say anything at all.

  “Well, even if it wouldn’t, at least you would see the objects flying around in the air. That would be cool too. Hey!” he added, noticing Nate rolling his eyes. “A dead tree in your yard came back to life, and you think it’s nothing special. That’s necromancy!”

  “I didn’t say that I thought it was nothing,” Nate laughed. “I thought it was a little strange. But maybe that tree wasn’t even dead.”

  “It was dead, for years. Believe me.”

  “Nature is mysterious.”

  “Maybe you have been visited by aliens!” Ray proposed another theory. “That could explain those strange flowers in your garden.”

  “Necromancer-aliens,” Nate clarified. “Who love gardening.”

  “Anything’s possible.” Ray shrugged. “Or”—he flashed a glance at Nate—“I have another theory. Maybe you are the reason for it all happening.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.”

  “Just think about it—all of those strange things had started to occur right after you’d moved into the house.” Ray leaned over the counter. “Maybe you have a secret power you know nothing about.”

  “Like what? Gardening in my sleep?”

  “You can’t be absolutely sure unless you have evidence.” Ray ducked behind the bar stand. “Maybe nature just favors you.” His voice sounded muffled from the other side.

  Nate huffed a laugh, returning his attention to the tables in need of wiping. The only superpower he seemed to have was bringing trouble upon himself.

  “I’ll be right back,” Ray announced, emerging from behind the bar stand. “Need to take something from the kitchen.”

  His footsteps sounded across the tiled floor, then the door slammed, and everything grew quiet again.

  Nate’s thoughts took another direction, planning out the hours after work. Back at home, he had some cleaning to do. Maybe, when he would be finished with that, he could play the piano a little more.

  No, not the piano. Nate broke the thought before it evolved. It brought painful memories along with it, like hitting a nerve. He cringed.

  A bell chimed throughout the diner, drawing Nate’s attention to the front door and dissipating his thoughts.

  A girl entered, looking around the place as if searching for someone.

  Her blonde hair was tied up into a ponytail. She wore a T-shirt and sweatpants. Her gaze swept the diner quickly and then bumped into Nate.

  “May I help you?” he asked the girl.

  She started as if just noticing him. Then blinked, taking in the sight.

  “I …” she said hesitantly. “I’m … looking for my brother? His name is Ray? He works here.”

  She sounded as if she doubted every single word she said. Nate gave her a reassuring smile.

  “Ray is in the kitchen. He said he would come soon. I’m Nate, by the way.”

  The girl kept staring at him, her eyes wide, her lips a bit parted. She didn’t move an inch. Nate wondered if he had something on his face, or if his always unruly hair was particularly wild that day. Obviously, he intimidated the girl.

  Thankfully, it wasn’t a minute before the door behind his back slammed again and the familiar voice sounded.

  “Mimi? What are you doing here?”

  Ray strode across the floor to his sister, waking her from a trance she was in.

  “You said you would come and pick me up to go to Hanna.” Mimi’s tone of voice shifted as she addressed her brother. “I thought you forgot.”

  “I haven’t even finished the work yet. How did you get here?”

  “Ryan dropped me off on his way to the party.”

  Ryan—that was someone Nate knew. Ray’s younger brother. He worked at the diner part-time. Unlike Nate, the brothers seemed to enjoy their youth to the fullest.

  “I still need to finish some work here. Why couldn’t you call me?”

  “I tried to, but you didn’t pick up.” Mimi sighed. “Hanna will be furious.”

  “She won’t be.” Ray fumbled in his pocket and extracted a set of keys. “You can wait for me here or sit in the car.”

  Mimi cast a timid glance at Nate before reaching for the keys.

  “Sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Ray raised an eyebrow at her. “Or drink?”

  “I’m not hungry,” Mimi mumbled, returning into her previous state.

  She nodded at Nate, and he smiled back at her.

  It was nice to meet you, he’d almost said, but she was already out the door, the bell chiming again as it closed behind her.

  Ray let out a long breath. “I have to finish the work, and fast,” he said.

  “You can leave it to me and Amy,” Nate suggested. “There’s not much left to do.”

  “No, I still have enough time.” Ray walked around the bar stand and dove under it to pick something up.

  Nate cast a glance at the door. “I’ve never met your sister.”

  He did remember Ray mentioning her once or twice in conversations, but it always sounded as if his younger sister was in kindergarten—at the most. Nate didn’t imagine her to be a young adult.

  “Uh … She’s at that age when all she thinks about is clothes and hanging out with her friends,” Ray said from behind the bar stand. “She rarely visits Ryan and me at work—got better things to do, I suppose.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Eighteen. Just graduated from high school.”

  He’d never mentioned that, either.

  “Do you have any other siblings I don’t know about?” Nate chuckled.

  “I don’t think so,” Ray replied. “If only you could consider a dog a sibling.”

  Motion detector light flickered on as Nate stepped onto a mossy stone path leading to the house.

  Something was lying on the porch. He could see it even from afar. Approaching the steps, Nate got a better look at it.

  An assortment of toy cars. They lay on a rug by the door, gathered in a neat pile. Frowning, Nate bent over to pick one of them up. It had faded with time, missed a couple of wheels, and was covered in dirt, but he recognized it.

  An image popped into his mind.

  Little boy playing in the rose bushes. A voice resounding from a window, Nate, it’s time for lunch!

  I’m coming! the boy cried in response.

  Cars dropped to the lawn and running footsteps reverberated throughout the damp soil.

  Then the rain came, and the little boy was forced to sit home. When it ended, he went to pick up his toys, but some of them were missing. He went looking around the yard, but couldn’t find them. And after a day or two, his parents returned to take him home.

  Those cars. Those little cars he’d lost in the aunt’s garden when he was little. It’d been so long he thought they had rusted through and disintegrated into dust. But here they were—broken but still existing. Somebody had found them. Dug them out from the ground.

  Nate twirled another car in his hand—this one was missing a plastic windshield. He grabbed the rest of the toys from the rug and straightened up, turning to look into the garden.

  At night, it got filled with moths. They gathered aro
und the glowing flowers, trying to make sense of them. Nate couldn’t blame them—the flowers puzzled him too. Though he wasn’t a botanist, he was somehow sure there were no species like that on Earth. Maybe Ray was right about the aliens.

  And even if he had doubted it until this moment, he had a good reason to believe now—there was someone behind it all. Nature might be unpredictable and full of wonders, but only a human—or something humanoid—could have found his childhood toys in the garden and deliver them to the front porch of his house.

  Extracting a set of keys from his pocket, Nate opened the door. He came inside and switched the lights on.

  The piano welcomed him with beckoning silence. It was the first thing Nate’s eyes fell on upon entering and the last thing he saw stepping out the door. Always there, always waiting. Meaning to wait decades for Nate to return. As if trying to say, You and I are inseparable. I belong to you, and you belong to me. Nate sensed it was so.

  Sometimes he wondered if his love of music was some sort of a curse. No matter where he went, it always followed, and with it went the pain. He couldn’t get rid of it even if he wanted to, and trying to ignore it was like ripping out his soul. Nate felt like he was voluntarily torturing himself. Why couldn’t he just be like the other people his age?

  Be interested in climbing a corporate ladder, finding a girl, and starting a family. Posting pictures on social media of himself enjoying tropical vacations and nights out with his wife.

  Such life seemed so right, so fulfilling.

  But at the same time, he knew it would never fulfill him. Almost hated himself for that.

  Nate tumbled the toy cars into the kitchen sink, taking a mental note to clean them later. Then walked over to the bathroom.

  He took a quick shower, changed into more comfortable clothes, and returned downstairs.

  The piano still sat there in silence. Waiting. Anticipating.

  Nate released a long breath. Ran a hand through his wet hair, brushing it off his face.

  Somehow, today was different. Something had shifted in the atmosphere. He felt as if there were strings attached to the tips of his fingers, pulling him toward the keyboard. His own mind was coaxing him to give in.