63RAVENWOOD
.2
"I want Pop-Tarts," Jaymie said impatiently as she slid into a chair at the table.
"Okay." I nodded vaguely as I pried opened one of the boxes on the counter. "And what do you want, Laura?"
"Pop-Tarts!" she squealed. Her teddy bear sat in her lap.
Jaymie frowned. "Copycat."
"Am not."
"Don't be so loud, you'll wake Mom," I said, rummaging through the box in search of the toaster. My fingers finally touched against cool steel and I pulled it out.
"Where's Dad?" Jaymie asked. She slouched back in her chair, kicking her legs.
I wiped off the toaster with a cloth from the box and plugged it in. "I guess he went to work."
"I thought he was supposed to be home all weekend."
"Maybe something happened," I mumbled. Crouching, I opened a few of the lower cupboards in search of the food Mom had brought with us. "An emergency meeting or something."
"But he said he wouldn't have anymore of those," Laura said with a frown. She pouted and crossed her arms, strangling the teddy bear.
She was right, but I was just as clueless as she was, so I figured Mom could settle it with her later.
I opened the cupboard next to the fridge and plucked a box of Pop-Tarts from the lower shelf.
"All we have is strawberry," I said, opening it.
"I wish the TV was plugged in," said Jaymie, leaning forward and spreading her arms over the table. She looked longingly into the living room.
"Even if it was plugged in, you wouldn't be able to watch anything." I slipped two of the pastries into the toaster. "We don't have a satellite yet."
"But we could watch DVDs."
I shook my head. "The player broke in the move, remember?"
Jaymie let out a frustrated sigh and dropped her forehead onto the table. It sounded painful, but it was her moment, so I didn't say anything.
There was still a knot in my stomach from earlier this morning. Maybe it had been because I was tired, I thought. Your mind could play tricks on you when you were tired. Or maybe it had been something, but it was harmless. An animal. A deer or something. I hadn't really gotten that good of a look at it, anyway.
I let out a heavy sigh and leaned back against the counter as I waited for the Pop-Tarts to finish.
Footsteps from down the hallway caught all of our attention. I looked up just in time to see Mom step in, clad in her bathrobe.
"Morning sweeties," she said with a big smile, tightening the sash on her robe. Laura hopped off her seat, ran over to her, and gave her a hug.
"I couldn't sleep, Mommy. It's too scary here."
"Aw, sweetie, what's there to be scared of? It's beautiful here."
Jaymie fidgeted in her chair, shifting. "My room's really dusty."
"We'll clean them today," Mom said as Laura released her and returned to the table. "But first, we're going to take a tour of the town."
"A tour?" Jaymie echoed.
"There can't be much to see, can there?" I asked, absently picking at the edge of the counter. I was kind of hoping to stay home today and get a better feel for the property.
"It won't take long," Mom continued. The Pop-Tarts shot up from the toaster and I plated them for Laura and Jaymie. "Just a walk down mainstreet, and we'll find your guys' schools." She smiled and ruffled Jaymie's hair.
"I said yesterday I didn't want to go," she said, shrinking away from her touch. She held her breakfast in one hand and smoothed her hair down with the other.
Mom ignored her rebuttal. "And maybe we can find a frozen yogurt stand and do some window shopping."
"There probably isn't one here," I said, opening the pastry box again. I held it up for Mom to see. "Want one?"
"Sure, honey."
"What isn't here?" Laura asked through a mouthful of Pop-Tart.
"A frozen yogurt shop," I said.
Mom sighed, propping her arm against the table. "Well, you never know."
After breakfast - and a solid three hours spent unpacking - Mom dragged us out of the house and into the car, intent on spending the better part of the day getting to know the town.
"It's a village, technically," she said as we stopped at a small ice cream parlor. There were no frozen yogurt shops. "Less than five thousand people live here. Can you imagine that?"
I wasn't sure I wanted to, but the reality of it was sinking in.
The air still hadn't lost its morning chill, and I drew my hands up into the sleeves of my jacket, involuntarily shivering. A breeze swept over us; it lifted my hair and whispered against my neck, prickling.
There was no line at the parlor. Heck, there wasn't even another human being to be see for miles aside from the parlor attendant, who boredly watched us approach and stashed away his magazine as soon as Laura ran up to him.
"I want chocolate and a waffle cone!"
Mom laughed lightly, putting a hand to Laura's shoulder and inching her back from the window. "Laura, sweetie, let Mommy order for you."
Jaymie trudged behind us slovenly, hands jammed into her coat pockets. She was still pissed because Dad had yet to make an appearance.
"You could at least try to have some fun," I said to her as I stopped, waiting for her to catch up. She just glared at me and said nothing.
Once we had our treats, we settled at the park just across the street. Jaymie made a beeline for the monkey bars and Laura parked herself on the slide, which was sure to be sticky by the time she was done with it. Mom gestured to the swings and I followed her, milkshake in hand.
"So how do you like your room?" she asked, blowing gently on her coffee.
"It's nice." I sat down heavily, sighing. A few pieces of trash blew across expertly manicured grass, towards the street. "And huge."
"It has a great view, doesn't it?"
My fingers slipped over the thick, rusted chains. "Yeah." I took a quick taste of the vanilla milkshake, then smiled a little. Yummy. "There are a lot of trees here," I added after a moment.
"There are." Her eyes roamed over our surroundings and she took a drink of her coffee. "They're nice, too. Maybe you can finish your collection."
I nodded absently. The zodiac collection was something of a sore spot; I'd started it nearly a year ago and still hadn't finished. "Hopefully."
"How many do you have left?"
"Two," I said slowly, chewing at the end of my straw. "The rabbit and the snake."
Her eyebrows went up and she grinned a little. "That's a dangerous combination."
I sat straighter, squaring my shoulders. "Is it?"
"That's what they say," she said, wistfully.
Really? Gripping the Styrofoam cup harder, I slouched back. I didn't really know much about the Chinese zodiac; only that they were interesting and might be fun to carve. It was my first project and the fact that I still hadn't finished nursed a festering irritation somewhere deep within me.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching my sisters. It was quiet here too, even in the middle of the day. Crows dotted the power lines just as they had when we'd first arrived yesterday. It was no wonder how the town got its name. They were quiet, though. I hadn't heard a single caw yet.
Beyond them, the sun sat leisurely in the sky, high above us, hiding behind the occasional cloud.
"Do we have any neighbors?" I asked, tugging at the end of my ponytail.
"Not really." She sipped at her coffee. "There's a dentist's office or a portrait studio or something on the other side of the woods, past us, but that's it." She delicately wiped her mouth. "Why?"
I curled a lock of hair around my finger and shrugged. "Just curious."
"You'll make friends once you start school," she said and smiled a little. "Don't worry."
"That's not what - " I stopped, letting the tendril unravel. If I brought up what I saw - or thought I saw - that would just needlessly worry her. She had enough to think about as it was. "Yeah, I guess." Taking another sip of the shake, I fiddled with the cuff of my jacket. The button was gone, but the thread that had sewn it to the fabric was still there. I rubbed my finger over it. "So..." I began, unimpressively. "I thought Dad was supposed to be home this morning."
She nodded knowingly, as if she'd anticipated the question. "He had some business to take care of."
My brow raised. "But isn't the whole point of this - "
"He'll be home more, Serena, I promise." She offered a quick smile. "All right?"
I nodded slowly. "Sure."
"So," she started, her tone peppier and lighter, "are you excited about school?"
"Not really."
"Why not?"
I shrugged. "Have you ever switched schools in the middle of the year?"
"It's the start of a new quarter," she said, "so it shouldn't be too bad."
"Emphasis on the too."
She reached over and squeezed my shoulder. Reassuring. "You'll do fine."
The sun loomed over the brink of the expanse of trees behind our house. Yellowish orange rays filtered through, casting irregular shadows that danced as the sun descended.
I zipped up my jacket and shut the door behind me, then stepped off the small porch.
Touring the town had taken most of the day, which left little time for me to explore before the sun set. Mom had told me that the realtor said there was a trail here that led straight to the shore and I was hoping to find it before the light ran out.
A stretch of conifers hovered before me: pine and Spruce, with Hemlocks interspersed here and there. It was pretty; not depressed and pathetic like deciduous trees looked in early spring, barren and void of color.
I skirted the edge of the woods until I found what I deemed to be the closest thing to a trail. It was overgrown and barely noticeable. The grass became scarce once I was under the blanket of trees. The dirt was dark and soft, and the air carried its heavy scent.
It was quiet, and after a few minutes of walking, I realized that there were no sounds of wildlife. No bugs chirping, or birds singing. Just a thick silence, only broken when the soles of my shoes crunched over twigs and pine cones.
The further I ventured, the more my fingers began to itch for my whittling knife. Pine was good for carving; if I had more time I'd look for a useable piece, but right now only one thing was on my mind, and that was getting to the shore.
This would be my first time seeing the ocean.
I yawned unceremoniously and slipped my hands into my pockets, feeling content in the quiet. This place felt too good to be true, the more I thought about it. It felt so out of place compared to the things my parents usually preferred - New York apartments, TV dinners, taking the subway everywhere... It was such a big change.
I thought more about what Mom had said about the neighbors. So it wasn't that someone would come sneaking over to catch a glimpse of the new neighbors. It probably was some sort of animal after all. Hopefully not a bear. The thought sent dread through me. I hadn't considered that. What if there were bears and wolves and coyotes here? What if -
My foot crunched over something that held for a moment, then cracked and gave way. I jumped back quickly, searching the ground for what I'd stepped on. It was immediately obvious.
A dead bird. It lay on its side, head cocked and twisted unnaturally; contorted. Its black feathers shone even without the sunlight. A crow.
There was no blood. No visible wounds. It hadn't begun to decay, and there were no flies or maggots swarming it. It had been killed recently.
Great. The first animal I encounter here and it's dead. This had to be some kind of omen of things to come, I just knew it.
I stayed there, crouched by the bird for a while until I decided that there wasn't anything I could do other than leave it be. I began walking again.
After about ten minutes had passed, I realized that the forest was thinning. The trees became more and more sparse, and the faint sound of water reached my ears. It grew the further I walked, and I was relieved. At least that meant I was heading in the right direction.
A thin cloud of gray edged at what remained of the forest. It circled around trees, crawling low, and making trunks disappear as if it would swallow it.
The fog only intensified the further along I went, until I was out of the forest completely and found myself starting at a steep slope that slowly graduated from clumps of dirt with grass intermittently growing to a smooth bed of sand. The tide seeped into the shore, lapping gently against large, oblong shaped rocks that were present wherever the sand didn't meet directly with the ocean.
And then I saw it.
A tall, cylindrical building jutted upwards, out of the fog. It was capped at the top with a cone that warned a faded pinkish-orange that most likely would have been a bright red back in its day.
I'd never seen a lighthouse in person.
I neared it, suddenly eager, and as I did so, caught the faint shape of a small structure beside it amidst the thickening fog. It was about the size of a garage, and in poor condition. Dilapidated, made with wood and with a slanted roof, it looked as if it had been slowly rotting away for years.
The lighthouse was perched at an outcropping of rocks that towered over the water, and waves crashed against them below with more determination than they did where they met with the sand.
Did Mom and Dad know this was here? If they did, wouldn't they have mentioned it?
Watching my step, I walked around it a few times, drinking in all of the details. Above the doorway, five windows were stacked on top of one another, each swimming in a band of white or red painted wood. It peeled in some places, and was completely washed away in others. Towards the top, something protruded outwards. It had what looked like a railing, and beyond it, large, clouded windows.
I spent some time looking at it before I convinced myself that it would be okay to go in. I expected to see some sort of lock on the door, but there wasn't one, and when I turned the handle easily, the door swung right open.
The handle, however, came off in my hands. Quickly, I tried to fit it back on, but ended up just propping it back in its hole. I made sure to leave the door slightly ajar behind me.
The interior was smaller than I'd expected. It certainly wasn't as big as it looked from the outside, but maybe the walls were really thick. They were made of brick, slightly crumbled, but for the most part looking secure.
The opening room was completely bare aside from a wooden staircase that spiraled, wrapping around a thick pole that was in the center of the room. I touched my fingers to the railing, wiping away dust. I couldn't really tell what kind of wood it was. Some sort of maple, maybe.
I tentatively rested a foot on the first step, making sure it could support at least that weight before I started climbing. It did, and I began to ascend, keeping one hand on the fragile railing all the while. Every now and then I glanced up, dazed by the spiral of wood that stretched above me.
Where the windows were, sunlight shone in brightly. It cut through the darkness like a knife.
At the top, there was no door leading to the circular room that it opened to. It was just there, with no pretense or grandeur.
In the center was a large light that was enclosed in glass. The light was enormous - you had to walk around it to see the whole thing - and looked as if three large industrial light bulbs had been stuck together at the base. Like a trefoil.
There was nothing else in the room aside from that, which made its appearance all the more regal, despite its unkempt state. A large window spanned all the way along the wall, only stopping at a door that probably led to a balcony. The glass was opaque; probably built up dirt and dust crusted it. It was edged in a wood trim that still held its detail; curved, vine-like shapes ran horizontally with the window, boxing it in.
The door there opened with little effort, and outside, with a bit of a drop from the door to the wood, was a railed balcony that wrapped around the entire structure. I stepped over to it, lightly resting my arms against it as I drank in the view of the ocean from my new vantage point.
It was breathtaking.
...
Years ago, a girl and a boy played at the water's edge.
The girl, wearing a summer dress, sat upon one of the larger rocks that rimmed the ocean, and smiled as the pale sunlight sifted over her.
The boy, crouched where the sand met with cold water, was intensely preoccupied with something. He dug around in the went sand with his fingers, frowning slightly.
"Did you find any?" the girl asked, cocking her head to the side.
"Not yet."
"You should come sit over here," she continued on, drawing her knees to closer to herself, wrapping her arms around them. "We can watch the ocean."
The boy shook his head. "I wanna find one first."
The girl sighed, but said nothing. Several minutes passed, and her posture relaxed. She began to play with the plastic flowers on the end of her sandals, picking at them and pulling. She really didn't like the thought of plastic flowers, but when she had seen them in the store window the week before, she'd said that they were cute, and so naturally Daddy bought them for her. Just like the dress. She already had plenty of sundresses, but this one had a seashell print on it, and there was nothing she loved more than seashells.
Except ravens, perhaps.
Yes, ravens definitely outranked seashells. Not only were they beautiful, but they were her favorite color - black. Plus, they liked her. Ravens didn't befriend just anyone, so she thought of it as something special. She liked being special.
"Found one!"
Before she even had a chance to look up, the boy was already at the rock with her, grinning from ear to ear. He took her hand in his, then slipped whatever he'd been holding into her palm.
She looked down and smiled. In her hand was a scallop seashell, a pinkish red with staggering lines of a darker shade. The boy settled onto the rock next to her and she turned the shell over in her hands.
"It has both sides," she said quietly as she rubbed her fingers over the groves in the shell's surface.
"Told ya you'd like it," the boy said, looking rather smug as he sat back, propping his hands behind him.
The girl nodded mildly, her expression becoming more serious as she slipped her finger into the small space between the two sides of the shell. She eased it open further. "I think we should share it."
The boy looked to her, his mien of triumph fading as he processed her proposal. "You mean break it?"
"In half," she said, nodding. Her attention was still on the shell. "That way we'll both have a piece of it."
"It's not like it's the only one," the boy said, slightly confused now. "If you want another one, I can just go and get - "
"It doesn't work that way." The girl gave him a pointed look, her brow raising, and then looked to the shell again. It was fully open now, and all she had to do was break it off at the hinge. . .
"Let me do that," the boy said suddenly and eased the shell from her hands. She glared at him, and he added, "You might get cut."
"Because I'm a girl?" she mumbled, scrunching up her nose.
"No." He concentrated on the shell, and there was quiet for a moment. Nothing but the sound of waves crashing against the rocks.
And then, there was a crack.
He handed one half of the shell to her, again, looking proud of himself.
The girl beamed as she looked at her half, then cast her gaze to his. "Best friends forever," she said, holding hers up. "Promise?"
He nodded and did the same with his. "Promise."
Behind them, a raven sat on the rock.