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MC has odd things happen after her Dad leaves. |
(Author Note: VERY rough draft and may jump around a bit. I do have to work more on description as well. This will be worked on in next edit) Chapter 3 It was the Monday following dad’s abandonment. I had spent the weekend in a daze. I sat down to read books, but I would just gaze at the page, not seeing. I would try to watch television, but it was just noise and images that didn’t even register in my mind. I even tried to go somewhere on Sunday. I went to a coffee house and sat in the corner, sipping my drink and oblivious to everyone around me. It didn’t matter if I was surrounded by people. I still felt all alone and numb. That afternoon, I decided that I needed to do something that would make me feel alive again. So I set out to find Jillian. I knew that she would be working outside. The physical work, the wonderful feeling of being outside, and the companionable conversation that I could have with Jillian would be a soothing balm to my hurt soul. I found Jillian in the gardens. She was kneeling on the edge of a flowerbed, placing stones in a pattern around the edge. Mother must have decided she wanted to change the look of the edging. “I’ll help,” I offered as I knelt onto the grass bordering the flowerbed. I could smell the sweet and light scent of the flowers drift to me on the slight breeze. I did love the garden for many reasons, and I was reminded of one of them as I let the calm and quiet atmosphere engulf me. I felt the stress begin to flow out of me. “Calista!” a loud female voice shouted from the house. Ah yes, that would be another of the reasons. Mother very rarely went into the gardens. It was a wonderful escape when I needed it. Jillian looked up at me with the question in her soft brown eyes. I shook my head and held a finger to my lips. She shrugged and went back to laying the stones along the edge of the flowerbed. Mother called out a few more times, and then went back into the house muttering. I caught snippets and giggled quietly. Yes, she definitely hated it when I was off “daydreaming” as she put it. “Thanks,” I said to Jillian. “I just don’t want to deal with her right now.” “No problem…as long as I’m not getting in trouble for it.” she replied. “You know I’d never let that happen.” She nodded quietly, never once stopping her work. I knew she had her three small children to support and I would never stand aside while she lost the job she so desperately depended on, because of me. It irritated me that she still questioned me, after the years she had been at the house. Yet, I knew my mother. Yes, I can see why she would be worried. I brushed aside my irritation and turned to grab one of the smooth polished stones from the bucket sitting in between us. It settled into my hand with cool heaviness and I turned back to my left to set it into the pattern that Jillian was creating. The stone warmed to my touch, but then suddenly I realized it was more than the normal warming that stones are apt to do. It happened so quickly that I didn’t know what was happening and I threw the stone down on the ground with a small shriek. “What’s the matter?” Jillian asked, her eyebrow quirked up in question. I didn’t know what to say. I felt foolish saying what had just happened – if I could even describe it. Something made me suddenly very anxious. I had to leave. Now. “Uh, nothing,” I muttered as I jumped to my feet. “I think it was a spider or something.” I rubbed my hands on my jeans as I backed away, trying to forget the sensation. “But I, uh, just remembered I have to do something. Sorry. Maybe I’ll be back later.” I spun on my heel and started for the gate of the garden. I could just feel Jillian looking at me. She probably thinks I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have… I rushed out of the gate and just started walking, not sure where I was going. It must be some kind of nervous breakdown. The past week had been beyond stressful, after all. That had to be it. Because stones didn’t do that. They didn’t – what? Vibrate? Buzz? Course with a smooth feeling of energy? I put my hands over my ears and shook my head. I was not going to think about it anymore. I could already envision Mother asking Dr. Bennington for psych referrals. Yeah, that was all we needed. I sighed as I ran my hands through my hair, pushing it from my face. I started towards the pond, hoping that the walk would clear my mind. Of course Mother didn’t go to the pond either much anymore, so the likelihood of still steering clear of her was also an enticing prospect of the pond. I really didn’t want to deal with her earlier and that feeling was just compounded by whatever the hell just happened in the garden. I took a deep breath to clear my head. I sat in my room writing in my journal that evening. I was trying to put into words my experience with the stone that afternoon. It was proving to be quite difficult. It was so unlike anything I had ever heard about that it was impossible to put words to the feelings. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the sensation. My fingers started tingling, a small reminder of the greater feeling I had experienced earlier. The slight tingling…I realized I had felt that before. I often times felt it when holding Dad’s hand, especially as a child. I hadn’t thought about that feeling for a long time. I had become so used to it that I almost forgot it even happened. I also had learned at a young age that other people, especially adults, would find me very weird if I mentioned something like that. I figured it wasn’t something that most people noticed. My eyes were still closed as I lie on my bed in thought. Suddenly, a memory floated into my mind. “Do you think it’s time?” Mother asked. Dad stopped writing and looked at her over the top of his glasses, which had slipped a bit down his nose. He ran his right hand through his hair and took a deep breath. I knew he was so engrossed in his work that he was shifting his mind around what Mother had said. She hated it when he took so long to respond and I saw her hands clench a bit as she waited for him to compose himself enough to actually reply. He took his glasses off slowly and set them on the desk. The slight clink sound they made as they hit the surface of the desk seemed to echo in the silent room. “For what? To tell her?” he replied. I perked up instantly. I knew this had to be about me. I felt a bit guilty that I was eavesdropping, but now my interest was piqued and there was no way I was closing the door. Mother gave an exasperated sigh. Dad suddenly glanced towards the door and I hid around the corner in the nick of time. “Don’t worry,” she said. “She’s probably wandering around with her head in the clouds. I saw her heading to the garden with Jillian. Which is something else we need to discuss, but that can wait.” Now it was Dad’s turn for the exasperated sigh. “Mer, I think the answer is no to both of your topics.” I saw the glint of anger light in Mother’s dark blue eyes, so like my own. “Derrick Allan Grant, don’t you dare brush me off like that. I know you want to get back to your precious work, but this is something we need to discuss.” Dad’s green eyes narrowed in return, and I held my breath. Not another shouting match. Instead, he took another deep breath to steady himself. “She means the world to me, Mer” he said so softly and quietly I could barely hear him. The comment warmed me and I smiled in delight. “My work is never more important than my family.” My smile widened, happy to hear him say something that I wish he said more often. “As for telling her, I just don’t think it’s time,” he added. A little more grit had been added to his voice and stance when he said this and I knew he was putting his foot down. “This is something that really will shake her very foundation and she has to be prepared to hear it.” My eyebrows shot up in surprise. What could be that big? I held my breath and moved my face closer to the opening of the door, hoping I wouldn’t miss a single thing said or done. Mother reached out and put her hand gently on his arm. “It’s earth-shattering for everyone I think, Derrick.” She said it in such a caring tone, so filled with feeling. I missed her talking to Dad like that. He took his other hand and laid it over hers, tenderly squeezing it. “We won’t be around forever, dear. We have to make sure she knows. You know it can’t be left up to anyone else.” He looked up at her, his ruddy eyebrows crinkled in thought. Finally, after a moment of total silence he whispered, “Just a little while yet. Please trust me on this one.” They stared at each other for a moment, then Mother nodded slightly in acquiescence. She gave him a small smile and he smiled in return, and I suddenly finally felt like I was intruding on a private conversation. I hadn’t seen this between my parents in awhile. While I was happy to see it and wanted to find out what they could possibly be talking about, I could see I wasn’t getting any answers and the moment had turned to something I no longer felt okay seeing and hearing. I quietly tip-toed away, my head swirling with unanswered questions and conflicting thoughts and emotions. I opened my eyes as the memory faded in my mind. I couldn’t explain how or understand why it all fit together, but I knew with absolute certainty that the sensation I experienced holding the stone, the feeling I got when I held Dad’s hand, and that memory were all linked together. |