Lost Treasure of the Gypsy Dawn Chapter2

Chapter 2

~*~
Somedays I can still remember our Old Land. Mother would want me to forget, but for the secret songs we sing in the night. But somedays, when the sun hides behind blankets of heavy clouds, I remember her crying. I know, because I peeked when Mother told me to hide, that she cried over the body of a man. It may have been my father, or another of Mother’s friends. I remember that when the sky opened and the rain fell, I was not afraid. I was not afraid of the dead man who was covered in crimson blood. Only my Mother’s sobs cause me to fear. Mother was strong. She did not cry. She begged her gods to change it, and I was afraid.

I will never tell Mother that I remember. I shan’t tell her that I remember what she did next. She took the man’s hair and clippings of his nails, kissed both of his eyes. She took us away then, but not before our little cottage went up in flames. Even as a small child, I wondered how it could burn as the rain fell so mightily. Mother gave us new names, then, my brother and me. He did not want a new name, but I was fond of mine and I never complained.
It has been many years, but I cannot ever forget.
~*~

Jade was afraid that if she opened her eyes, she’ d wake up in a dark place. There would be mold on the stone walls, and the floors would be mud. She could feel cold metal around her ankles and the harsh scratch of dirty fabric across her back. The images were so real behind her eyes, that when she shivered under the soft blankets, it was from a chill that she’d never known. She knew it was a dream. She understood that she was somewhere between being awake and being asleep. Somehow she also knew that what she was seeing was real. It felt like a memory, de ja vu, and a movie all at once. There was a laugh somewhere in that dark space. It wasn’t a frightening laugh, but it was sad. It came from the lips of a person who didn’t expect to live much longer. The harsh knowledge of that pushed Jade awake. She rushed to the safety of her own bed, and as morning light streamed into her room, Jade heard a voice.

My Child…

Her eyes flew open, and she immediately closed them again. The sun was shining directly in her face, blinding her. Stretching, she tried to remember her dream. Something about a jail, or a prison, and a wrinkled brown hand. She shook herself free of her sheets and looked under her mattress. Yes, it was still there. The journal. She stroked the binding. The look on Marc’s face would be worth how scared she’d been last night.

After she left Marc at the fence the night before, Jade had rushed into the manor. She was going to be late for dinner if she didn’t hurry. In her room, she quickly changed out of the dirt and sweat-stained clothes. There was a sharp knock at her door.

“Almost done!” She said to the closed door.

“Jade?” It was her Father, but his voice sounded strained.

“Dad?” She opened the door. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I hope.” He looked more and more tired every day. Mom said he worked too hard. Jade thought it was something more, but she couldn’t say anything. “But…”

“How long?” She wasn’t mad, merely curious. Jade was used to her dad leaving on a moment’s notice. He hated doing it, but it never really bothered Jade. She was proud of how hard he worked even when he didn’t really need too.

“Just over night, if we’re lucky. I need to go to the New York office.” He smiled in his relief. He always seemed to think one day Jade would get mad.

“Bring me back something good.” With a smile, she hugged him and cherished his squeeze.

“I promise.”

Dinner would be just her and mom. Jade squared her shoulders. This would be interesting. She had immediately decided to steal the journal that night. Distracting her mother would be the hard part. The small dining room off the kitchen was where the Jade family took dinners most nights. It was comfortable and close without the official air of the formal dining room. It had four places around a circular table. When Jade was young, she’d arrange her dolls around it and presided over them as King Arthur with her Knights. Tonight, only two places were set. She sat at the one that was unofficially hers. Her mother was already seated.

“Hey, mom.”

“Hello, dear.” Her mother was a beautifully rigid woman. Her face was sharp, her eyes angular. She always seemed to be looking down at something without seeming to be too condescending. Jade always preferred to imagine her on a golden throne with brilliant folds of white billowing around her as she sat gracefully ruling her people. “How was your day?”

“Oh, it was alright.” Jade picked at her food, a plan suddenly brewing. Could she possibly? “Marc’s mom was teaching me how to stitch.” She was not even a little upset at how well the lie slid out of her mouth.

Her mom didn’t sniff, but only because it was unladylike. “That’s an interesting pastime.”

Jade shrugged. Marc’s mom had actually taught her to stitch last year when Jade accidentally shredded her new blouse. She was terrified that she’d be grounded if her mom saw the rip. Marc’s mom had patiently talked the girl through the small precise stitch needed. “I kinda liked it.”

The rest of the dinner went much the same way. It wasn’t that Jade didn’t enjoy being with her mom. It was just that her mom and her had very little in common. Jade didn’t like shopping. Jade hated Opera. Her mom did not like old things-she had issues even with their home sometimes. As Jade grew older, she realized that her mom blamed Marc for Jade’s disinterest, and no amount of denying would make her believe otherwise. Their best remedy was not to talk about anything in particular. And whenever she wanted an easy escape, Jade would mention some small thing that Jade had done that her mother would not enjoy. It had worked very well for a long time. She used it to her advantage now.

This particular evening, Jade mentioned Ms. Adams a few times, talking about her cooking, or her thrift shop in town. She watched her mother become more and more terse. She quietly asked for forgiveness from the universe and convinced herself that it was for the best. She didn’t know why, but something told her it was of the most importance to read that journal.

“Dear, I have a headache. I think I will lie down early,” Jade’s mother said after the plates had been cleared away. Jade nodded. She knew that her mom despised when she was away from her dad. Sleeping was the easiest way to pass the time. She stood then, and gave her mother a genuine hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Dear.” She held Jade for a long moment.

Jade retired to her large rooms. She figured she’d give the house a few hours to quiet down, Martha, the cook, left at 10 and Harold, who lived with the Dawns, went to his rooms soon after. Until then, Jade pulled out her 2-way radio. Marc had gotten the set for Christmas last year. And with a little updates, he’d increased the range.

“This is Black Swan. Come in Ranger. Ranger? You there? Over.”

“Hey Jade.” Marc’s voice was quiet. His mom worked long hours and went to bed early in the summer. He probably didn’t want to wake her.

“Hey. Listen, I’m going to try and retrieve the you-know-what tonight.”

The pause that followed told Jade that Marc was moving to the garage, the farthest area from his mom’s room. “Are you crazy? What if Harold catches you?”

“Harold is deaf. He can’t hear anything over his own snoring.” Jade had started changing into an outfit she imagined a cat burglar would wear.

“What about your dad?” Jade’s father was usually the one that caught onto all of their outrageous plans. He’d once stopped them from attempting to release the elephants from a traveling circus.

“He left a few hours ago for New York. It’s now or never. Wish me luck. Over and out.” Jade turned the radio off. She was getting nervous, and if he tried, Jade knew that Marc could talk her out of it. She clipped the radio to her belt though, just in case.

Jade had always found the Dawn Manor—it was a manor, no matter how much she denied it when Marc said so— creepy at night. It always seemed that if she turned the corner at just the right moment, she’d see someone or something that hadn’t been here for a long time. The shadows in every hall would envelope the smallest sound and make it a part of the night. Jade knew this, and tried to accept that she was an invader here when the stars rose and the light faded. She quietly, very quietly, took a side staircase down to the main level. She found that her arms were to her side, palms out in a posture of surrender. She didn't know why but she kept the position as she walked, her breath coming in deep gulps. Her father’s study wasn’t far from the landing of the stairs. Down another hallway, that was all. Quickly—but not too quickly as to appear disrespectful— Jade made her way to the large, ancient door.

For the first time, Jade realized she had forgotten her flashlight. Indecision gnawed at her, forcing her to stop, one hand hovering over the door handle. Logically, she knew that she was a mere few feet from her intended target. But she could feel the darkness converging on her, like it wanted to pull her away and show her things she wasn’t ready to see. She shut her eyes tight, her breath coming in ragged, small gasps. The only thing she could see was Marc’s face. He wouldn’t be afraid. Well, she thought, he would. But he’d go in anyway. This small thought made her smile, weakened the pull of the shadows, caused her to twist the knob she hadn't been aware she’d grabbed, and push the heavy door inward.

The room was benign and quiet, fully settled into the night. Jade snorted slightly, scoffing at her fear that already seemed so long ago. This place always smelled like her dad. It was a mixture of cleanliness and earthiness. She breathed deep, feeling far more confident. It wasn’t as dark in here as she thought it would be. She could see everything, every little detail of the books around her in a clarity that shouldn't have been. Her dad had once said that the Dawns had eyes like cats. Perhaps he had been right. Jade went to the shelf that had held the journal the night before. That night, Harold and her father had both been awake. That night, the lights from the hallways illuminated her journey. That night seemed so long ago, a lifetime. The book was not there. Multiple possibilities passed through her mind. What if Dad threw it out? What if he took it with him? What if Harold has it? What if it just simply vanished? She turned in a slow circle, slowly examining the room, looking for its hiding places.

There! On the desk in the middle of the room, the desk that her father had so many times sat her down to discuss life, was the worn leather bound journal. It was a strange leather. It felt as if it held a breath in it, and when you weren’t looking the book would heave its life. Shaking the strange thoughts away, Jade snatched the book up. Quickly now, with no regard this time for respect, she raced from the room, only just remembering that the door should be closed softly. She sprinted up the stairs to the safety of her own bedroom, chased by the shadows, saved by the soft glow of a lamp next to her bed. Jade decided to store the book under her mattress. It seemed the most logical place for the night. Without thinking, she’d made this decision with the knowledge that someone or something wanted to steal it away from her. A massive sigh escaped her, and she collapsed into bed, barely recognizing that this adventure had taken a incredulous 2 hours to accomplish. Her last thought before dreams took her was, I can’t wait to tell Marc.

As is common in the light of a new day, Jade felt foolish at how frightened she’d been. The darkness had a way of taking all her courage. She’d make sure to leave out that part of the story when telling Marc. She showered and dressed in record time. If she hurried, she’d only need to ask permission of Harold to leave. Before leaving her room, she packed her backpack with all the essential things needed for a day of discovery. Lastly, with great reverence and care, she wrapped the journal in a pale handkerchief, and gently placed in into the pack. Luck was with her this morning; Harold met her at the base of the grand staircase.

“Marc said I could go to his place today. I thought I’d ride my bike?” She smiled sweetly at the ancient man. Though he acted blasé, Harold was beloved, and cared deeply for the youngest Dawn.

He eyed her bag. “For how long, is this meeting?”

Jade rolled her eyes. “I need to be prepared. You know Marc.”

A smirk hid just beneath the blank expression. “Yes, Miss. I do. Do not be late for dinner.” With that, he returned to whatever task he’d given himself that day.

Breakfast at Marc’s house was always a delight for Jade. Though his mom left before light, she always made sure there was something delicious waiting for her son to eat. Carrie Adams was a wonderful cook. Jade walked in the front door and before she could speak, the smell hit her full in the face. “Cinnamon Rolls!” She yelled, in leu of ‘hello.’ Duke barked a single greeting, tail wagging. It was her bark, one that Duke used just for Jade. She smiled at the large, gentle mutt and patted him on the head.

“Hey Jade!” Marc’s voice came from the kitchen. It sounded like he was still eating. “There’s still one left. Mom must’ve known you’d be over.” Marc was leaning over the small counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. A stool awaited her, so she shed her bag and sat, helping herself to the sugary goodness in front of her.

“Mm. I love these.”

“Me too.” Marc licked his fingertips and turned to her. She knew that he was staring at her in anticipation. So, of course, she finished her large roll before even turning to him. He had one eyebrow raised. “You chickened out, didn’t you?”

Jade snorted and pushed him. “No. As a matter of fact, I didn’t.” She unzipped her bag and turned back to him. “It was really scary though.” She didn’t know how to explain the uncomfortable feeling she’d gotten.

“I know that feeling.” Marc’s eyes looked haunted. Jade stared at him, waiting. Marc shook his head and looked at her. “Well? Where is it?” She watched him for a minute, trying to decipher that weird look. With a inner shrug, she slowly brought the journal out of her bag and set it on the counter. Marc sat on the stool next to Jade and leaned in as she stroked the binding. They both could feel the suspenseful energy that generated between them. Duke, who usually chose to snore on the couch most days, was pacing back and forth, panting with unknowable anxiety. Once again, Jade was struck by how much the thing seemed to breath, how alive it appeared to be. Marc was looking at it with a face that betrayed his feelings.

Jade was surprised to see disgust mixed among other things there in his eyes. He turned to her. “You touched this thing?”

Jade narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Um… Yes? Marc, it’s just a book.” Long moments passed while Marc stared at the journal. Jade didn’t want to interrupt whatever was happening. It seems important, and she didn’t really know why.

“You need a key to open it.” When Marc finally broke the silence, he seemed fine, as if the last 5 minutes hadn’t really happened, as if he hadn't be intently studying an inanimate object like he planned to do battle with it.

Jade turned her attention to the journal too. “Yeah, I know. But, its unlocked already.” She’d discovered the strapped lock this morning when she’d been packing for the day. She didn’t know why, but even though it was ready to be opened, Jade couldn't do it. It was as if it wasn’t the right time. She was pretty sure that she’d just been too scared to open it alone.

“Not anymore.” Marc pointed to the intricate lock on the side of the book. Jade half-noticed that he avoided touching it. However she was far too concerned with what he’d just said.

“What?” She snatched the book up. She shook her head unconsciously, not allowing herself to believe it. “No. I knotted a hanky around that thing. It shouldn’t have locked.” She pulled at the mechanism, hoping it just looked liked it was locked. The strap didn’t move, it barely jiggled. It was Jade’s turn to stare impossibly at the journal.

Marc was rustling through her bag. “There’s no handkerchief here, Jade. Are you sure that you wrapped it up?”Jade heard him, but it took her a few minutes to comprehend him. When she finally did, she flung the book away from her with enough force to send it into the kitchen and under a free standing cabinet. “What the hell, Jade?”

She turned to him, knowing she looked crazy and not really caring. “Marc. I JUST tied a knot around that lock. Even if I hadn’t, it couldn’t have closed easily. I mean, look at it!” She threw her arms up, and Duke back away, whining quietly.

“Well I can’t look at it.” Marc motioned to the kitchen. He didn’t know why, but he was beginning to feel the same panic he’d gotten the night before, only colder, slower. “But let’s look at our options here Jade. Maybe you just thought about tying something around it. Maybe the handkerchief fell out of your bag on the ride over here.” Maybe you’re a witch and magic took it away. He didn’t say it out loud, didn’t even realize he’d thought it until…

“I’m not a witch, Marc.” It was only a whisper, but it made Marc take a step back next to Duke.

Marc was very certain that this was just another instance of best friends being able to read each other. But, on the other hand, he was also very certain that something weird was going on. He decided now was a perfect time to tell Jade about what had happened to him on the fence line outside the forest.

“Consider the options,” Jade said after he’d finished the recollection and a giant glass of milk. She had stopped shaking and was actively keeping her eyes shifted away from the kitchen. She couldn't actually think of any options at the moment though, apart from the creatures in horror movies and ghouls from mystery novels. They sat quiet then for long moments.

“Hobos,” Marc said.

Jade nodded. “Dogs?”

Marc shrugged. “Vampire.” For some reason, this made Jade sort with laughter, which, in turn, made Marc smirk. Suddenly, a darkness that they hadn’t even known was growing in the small duplex shrank back. They quietly and quickly decided that they were going into town.

~*~

Fifteen years ago, Old Town Willow was given a facelift. The historic brick buildings that crisscrossed through Main Street were renovated and renamed. The cobbled streets were refinished, and trees were added to the walkways all in an effort to steal some of the tourist crowds from larger coastal towns. One store, attached on one side to a retro diner and a coffee shop on the other, was noticeably shabbier than its neighbors. Although the city council begged its owner to update it, The Bait Shop remained as grungy and original has it had been when it first opened 40 years prior, more so, actually due to its continued aging.

The owner of the Bait Shop, a grumpy old man named Rupert, refused to follow the prompting from city council and refurbish his store. There was very little Willow City could do about it, so The Bait Shop remained The Bait Shop. When Rupert started to get sick, his only employee took over the store. From then on, Marc’s mom became the sole manager of the place. When the old man died, it rained. They wore black and opened the store. Rupert would’ve wanted it that way.

From Marc’s house to the Bait Shop was only a 10 minute bike ride. In the morning air was a crispness that was unusual for the time of year. Marc took deep gulps, relishing the freshness. He was acutely aware that he was actively trying to not think about the journal, or last night, or Jade. The last one was a little hard, considering she was on his left, peddling fast to keep up with his longer legs. Something changed last night, something scary, but Marc had been noticing a change for longer. Jade was leaving Willow, but Marc was afraid that she was drifting away from him. It wasn’t like she disliked him. He knew that was dumb to even think. They were best friends. But their worlds were just so different. She was like a princess, being sent to a faraway land to meet princes and dukes. Marc was just a lowly stable boy. What chance did he have?

Wait, what? He didn’t want to be a prince. Jade was anything but a princess. Where did that come from? Luckily, Marc didn’t have time to think about it because they had just pulled up to the front of The Bait Shop. As they entered, a bell dinged. Jade and Marc paused just passed the threshold, kissing their fingers then casually smacked them on a faded framed photo of a grumpy looking man holding a pole and reel. It was a tradition that Marc had started almost immediately after old Rupert had passed. Jade soon followed suit, and now it was bad luck to forget.

“Be right with you,” A slightly exasperated voice called from the back of the shop. There were no customers, so Marc was pretty sure that the frustration was about the building. It always had something wrong with it. Jade looked at him then, a mischievous look in her eye. They nodded to each other and immediately found suitable hiding places.

“How can I he…” Marc’s mother was as beautiful woman with light auburn hair that always seemed to be slightly messy. She had a sharp eyes, a sharper mind , and loads of patience. “Oh I see.” She went behind the retail counter and replaced the tool box she’d been carrying before turning her gaze back to the “empty” store. “Hm…” She mumbled to herself as she scrutinized the area. “Jade is behind the blue canoe and Marc is hiding in the bathroom, which I think should be cheating.” The two friends left their hiding places laughing. Jade shook her head in amazement. Ms. Adams was incredible.

“How do you always know?” she playfully whined, walking towards the counter laid out with unpriced, newly delivered, used items.

“You forget, Jade,” Ms. Adams replied. “I raised Marc.”

Jade snorted her laughter. Marc rolled his eyes at Jade and turned to his mom to ask her about whatever was broken. Jade’s attention shifted back to the table of treasures. Her mother wouldn’t have considered them treasure. To her, it was all trash, but Jade saw what Ms. Adams saw. They were connections to people. They were the history and life of someone. Whenever Jade picked up a used item, she tried to imagine who owned it before and what kind of life it lived. She ran her hands slowly over the bobbles, her eyes involuntarily closing. Suddenly, her fingers stopped, hovering over something that felt smooth, almost like glass. Without looking, Jade knew that it was a jade stone. She knew that it was a talisman of luck and had been well used. She could feel the confines of a worn pocket, fabric tickling. The feel of fingers worrying in earnest. The smell of fire and burned flesh.

“Jade!” A hand grasped hers. She jumped back quickly.

“What?” She asked, a bit too loudly.

With a tentative glance at his mother, Marc said, “For the last time, Dawn. You can’t scare me.”

Shakily, Jade shrugged. “W-worth a try.”

Marc’s mother was not fooled, but chose not to asked. Although she was protective, she also trusted her son. Just then, a customer entered, and Ms. Adams was pulled away.

“What was that? Where did you go?” Marc asked quietly, his hand still on her shoulder, steadying her.

Jade looked at the table. “I don’t know. It was like in the attic. I…I felt like I was in someone’s pocket. Well, not me. This.” She pointed to the stone. “It’s a lucky talisman.”

“It is?” Marc released her to look at the stone. “It’s just a rock, Jay.”

She smirked, feeling better. “No, it’s a jade rock.” She joined him at the table. She opened her mouth to describe her latest episode, the scary part, but something caught her eye.

Hanging on a jewelry tree, she noticed an unassuming necklace. It was longer than all the other chains around it, and Jade found herself holding her breath as she followed it down to its lowest point. There, hidden slightly by a gaudy broach, was a small key.

“Hey! A key.” Marc had seen it too. “How funny would it be if it w— Jade, what the crap?” Jade had grabbed Marc’s arm with enough force to leave marks.

“Marc we need a key!” She let go of his arm, her thoughts racing.

“Really? For a lock? How odd and unusual.” He rubbed his arm and only just kept himself from rolling his eyes. He shouldn’t have bothered. Jade was no longer paying attention.

“If we find the key, we unlock the journal. So we either need to find the key in my father’s office, or…” She looked at Marc was a glint that nearly gave him chills. She didn’t get to finish her thought.

“Another one bites the dust,” Marc’s mom said with a tired sigh as she walked back over to him. “They just needed directions to the interstate.”

“Who needs ‘em?” Marc replied with false bravado. He knew that they needed the business. The Bait Shop had a few loyal customers all year round, and they were at the very beginning of high season, but somehow the shop remained slightly empty. He also knew that his mother would never admit that she was worried about money.

“Yeah,” she smiled at her son. “If they don’t understand the Bait Shop, they don’t deserve her.” She patted his cheek. “So, what brings you two to town so early?” She narrowed her eyes, suddenly uneasy.

Without even looking at each other, Marc and Jade said simultaneously, “library.” It was, of course, their favorite destination and the most likely answer. In truth, neither of them really knew what they were doing. They were on the brink of a massive secret, they knew it, could feel it, but didn’t really know how or where to start.