by Claire Fogel
He led me to the campfire where there were a group of camp chairs placed in a semi-circle. This was where he’d been meeting with his men. I saw one of the younger Elves lead the two greys away. I recognized Evan, the teen who had been taking care of Pigeon for me. Of course, Pigeon was back in Elvenwood now, no longer mine since she’d panicked during the last storm.
We sat down and he poured me a large mug of the forest’s sweet water. I took a deep drink, still trying to quiet my emotions. It was still a bit windy.
My father watched me, sympathy clear in his green eyes. “Feeling a little better now, sweetheart?”
I nodded. “A little, Dad.”
“What was it that set you off? You seemed fine this morning when I left you having coffee with Randi.”
I took a deep breath. “I was going through all the drawings I did during the past several months, trying to choose a few to recreate in watercolors for Francis. I guess I’d forgotten about all the sketches I did of Adam last summer. When I came across them, I felt like my heart was being torn out of my chest.”
“I thought you were feeling better, Cara.” He began running his hands through his hair the way he always did when he was frustrated. “I wish there was something I could do to take that pain away.”
I shrugged. There was nothing he could do.
He stood suddenly. “I told you there was someone here I wanted you to meet. Come with me.” He smiled down at me. “This may cheer you up.”
He took my hand and led me to an enclosure that had been built for the greys stabled at his camp. The heads of half a dozen beautiful horses went up as we approached. I’d always thought the greys must be part human because of their intelligence, as well as the affection they could show to those they cared about. And they were discriminating animals. They didn’t take to everyone and usually made their feelings clear.
Smoke trotted up to us, snorting and nodding his big head. He greeted me, bending down to place his nose on my shoulder, then raising his head to blow my hair off my face. It was the most affectionate greeting I’d ever received from my father’s huge horse.
I murmured into his ear, “I’m glad to see you too, Smoke.” He whinnied, nodding at me again.
Smiling, my father said, “Smoke knew you needed another grey to ride, so I left the selection up to him.”
Surprised, I said, “Smoke picked another grey for me? Really?”
My father nodded, and another large grey trotted up to me. He stood very close to me and stared into my eyes. Unlike the other greys, this horse had light gray eyes, filled with intelligence. He snorted softly, blowing on my hair.
“Hello,” I said. “You’re a handsome fellow. Polite too.” He was dark gray, not quite black, with a much lighter gray mane and tail.
I turned to my father. “What’s his name, Dad? He’s a beauty.”
He chuckled. “I’m almost afraid to tell you, dear. But I think you’ll admit it fits him. Cara, I’d like to introduce you to Storm. He’s yours.”
“Storm? You must be kidding!” My shock quickly turned to amusement as the dark gray horse began to snicker. It was obvious he was laughing at me.
I had to laugh too. This beautiful horse was in on the joke. I said, “Okay, you’re a very smart horse, and you even have a sense of humor, which is a real plus. But how am I supposed to get on and off your back? You’re twice Pigeon’s size.”
He snickered again, then folded his legs beneath him and rested on the ground next to me. He turned his head, looking me in the eye, and whinnied, sounding pleased with himself.
I was amazed. I couldn’t reach his height, so he came down to mine. I think my mouth must have been hanging open, and I could hear soft laughter all around me. Every Elf in camp had come out to see if Storm and I would suit each other.
When I noticed that my padded saddle was already on his back, I climbed on. Storm slowly but surely stood up, hardly jostling me at all. I was thrilled. This horse was a dream come true, and I told him so. I heard his laughter again as I stroked his neck.
My father was already mounted on Smoke and I could see how pleased he was. He grinned and said, “Would you like to ride to Elvenwood and have lunch with me?”
I was glad he would be with me for my first ride on Storm. I prayed I’d never fall off because it was a long way down.
I smiled at him. “Absolutely. Storm is exactly what I needed. Thanks, Dad.”
Smoke whinnied in a satisfied way and we left for Elvenwood.
Storm’s gait was so smooth, I wasn’t being bounced around at all, and we kept a fast pace all the way to the gateway. It was exhilarating! My new grey was the perfect antidote for a serious case of the blues.
In the weeks that followed, Storm and I spent a lot of time together. There were days when I simply wanted to be alone, with only my grey for company. We’d ride through the forest, on paths I’d never seen before, and sometimes not on any path. Storm always seemed to know where he was going and I trusted him. Apparently, my father trusted him too and never seemed to worry about my solitary rides.
As we rode through the forest, I talked to Storm and I knew he understood every word. Sometimes he’d whinny in response, sometimes he’d snicker, sometimes he’d just nod his big head up and down to let me know he agreed with something I’d said.
I’d never known I could have such a close bond with an animal. But the Elven greys were a great deal more than just animals.
Like so many things in Blackthorne Forest, the greys were pure magic.
In addition to riding Storm as often as I could, I continued to speak to Rowenna most nights. She knew how depressed I’d been, and she understood the reason. For some reason, she insisted that Adam would return some day. But I remembered that she’d also been waiting for her mate to return for many years.
Rowenna was an optimist. I wasn’t.
I had finished the artwork for the class yearbook and turned it in to Miss Burrows. I was also doing my best to concentrate on my classes, spending more time reading and studying than I ever had before. Keeping my mind occupied and staying busy was my way of fighting the depression that always threatened.
Finding those pictures I’d drawn of Adam had been like a knife to my heart. Providing I still had a heart. The jury was still out on that subject.
It was getting close to Christmas, a time of year I’d always loved. But this year it seemed like just another holiday to get through. My friends were full of Christmas spirit, shopping for gifts and planning family get-togethers.
Amy was trying to get a group together to go caroling. She knew better than to try to recruit me this year, instead muttering “humbug” whenever I was near.
Kevin seemed happier than usual, which I attributed to Amy, although neither one would admit that their relationship was anything more than good friends “hanging out.” They weren’t fooling me.
Mom had already started decorating our house for the holidays, a few new decorations appearing every few days and the air in the house scented with wintergreen and pine from the candles she’d placed in every room.
My father was enjoying all the decorations, which were a completely new tradition to him. Despite all the handcrafted items the Elves made for the outside world, I was surprised to learn that they didn’t actually celebrate Christmas. It was a human holiday, not an Elven tradition. But that didn’t spoil his enjoyment of our human traditions. He admired every decoration Mom set out, which pleased her enormously.
We were enjoying an unusually mild winter, which pleased me enormously.
Until it began to snow, I could continue riding Storm. But once winter set in with snowstorms and below freezing temperatures, Storm would be returned to Elvenwood’s surprisingly warmer temperatures and enclosed stable with the other greys. There would be very few Elves stationed at my father’s camp until spring, although Conor and Gavin would still be working in the forest to care for trees and wildlife as much as weather permitted. Their method of transport? Skis and sn
owshoes.
Sean and I still sat together in four classes, five days a week, but he no longer called me every night. He seemed to have the blues too. Maybe my depression was contagious.
His face brightened considerably when basketball season began. Sean and Dion were Thornewood’s star basketball players, and Sean made me promise to come to their games.
“Basketball is a lot easier to understand than football, Cara, trust me. Come with Amy and Kevin. I think you’ll enjoy it,” he said with a smile. I hadn’t attended any basketball games in previous years, but I figured I owed him that much.
Laughing, Amy said I’d be sure to enjoy the sight of athletic boys in shorts running around the gym, even if I didn’t enjoy the actual game. She was pleased to see me smile at that comment. Despite my best efforts, I had never become a football fan, but maybe there was some hope for basketball.
Waves of disappointment swept over the Thornewood High student body when it was announced that there would be no Christmas dance this year. Since basketball season was about to start, the floor in the gymnasium needed to be refinished, and the work could only be scheduled for the week before Christmas, which was when the dance was normally held.
In previous years, the refinishing had always been done during Christmas vacation, the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Apparently, that wasn’t possible this year.
Our senior class president, Dion Washington, suggested renting the Pizza Palace for one night and having a party there. He knew that the restaurant had a banquet room behind the dining room, so there would be room for everyone who wanted to attend. And the old jukebox would provide music we could dance to. Everyone loved the idea, and the owner of the restaurant was happy to accommodate us.
At our usual table in the lunchroom, we all agreed that Dion’s idea was brilliant. No one wanted to leave for Christmas vacation without a fun celebration beforehand. And we didn’t think anyone would mind the cost of the pizzas.
Sean looked at me hopefully. “How about it, Cara? Will you go to the party with me?”
Amy and Kevin glanced at each other, both obviously waiting to see if I’d been able to drum up any holiday spirit at all.
My friends had put up with my moodiness for the past several months. I couldn’t disappoint them now. Looking at Sean, I smiled and said, “It’ll be fun. Dancing and pizza! Perfect combination.”
A big smile on his face, Sean looked at Amy and Kevin. “If you two are going together, we can make it a double date. Okay with you?” he asked them.
They looked at each other and nodded, smiling.
That finally gave me the opening I’d been waiting for. “Amy, Kevin, be honest now. You two are dating, right?”
Kevin turned a deep shade of red and wouldn’t look me in the eye. Amy, on the other hand, laughed and said, “Kev, I think we’ve been outed.”
Looking at me, she said, “Sweetie, the three of us have been best friends forever. We were both afraid you’d feel that we’d left you behind. You haven’t been yourself lately. That’s the only reason we’ve kept it quiet.”
Kevin finally looked at me. “Short stuff, we both love you. We’re still here for you, just like we’ve always been. You know that, right?”
I looked at my two best friends since kindergarten. “Of course it’s okay. I’m happy for you. Really!” I rolled my eyes. “This is not something you had to keep from me.”
Sean just watched the three of us, shaking his head. “I’ve always been a little jealous of the three of you. You have something really special.”
“We’re family, Sean,” I said with a smile. “We just have different parents.”
Amy and Kevin both nodded in agreement. Amy added, “I think we should include Sean in that family.” She glanced at all of us. “After all, we’ve been through a lot together.”
Understatement of the year.
Since we’d be dancing to the oldies at the Christmas party, Amy suggested a trip to the thrift store downtown in search of 1950’s vintage clothing we could wear. Amy loved nothing more than shopping, and since I’d agreed to go to the party with Sean, I decided to be a good sport and do one of my least favorite things—go shopping.
A few days before the party, I picked up Amy after school and we headed to the thrift shop. The store, called “Gone But Not Forgotten,” was one of Amy’s favorite haunts. The shop was in the seedier end of town, an area I usually avoided. Amy, of course, paid no attention to the small groups of men hanging out on the corners in that neighborhood. When it came to shopping, she was totally single-minded. I tried to find a place to park close to the shop, but we still had more than a block to walk, past one of those corners where we were subjected to a barrage of catcalls.
“Just ignore it,” Amy muttered. The best I could do was look straight ahead, ignoring them.
The store was a pleasant surprise on the inside. The walls were full of old movie posters from the “golden age” of Hollywood along with old record album covers from the age of vinyl. The big band sound blared from speakers in the corners. The owner looked like a refugee from that golden age, a platinum blonde dressed in a shoulder-padded outfit that had to be from the 1940’s. When we told her what we were looking for, she led us to one side of the shop where Amy immediately dove into a rack of vintage clothing, squealing in delight.
After more than an hour, Amy had found a white poodle skirt decorated with turquoise embroidery and a fitted turquoise sweater that matched perfectly. The owner told her all she needed were ballet slippers and a small strand of pearls. I had to admit, Amy looked great. Very retro.
The owner assured me that my small size wouldn’t be a problem because most teens in that era were considerably smaller than today’s teens. She asked if she could pick something out for me, and I was only too happy to agree. Looking around at all the vintage clothing, I had no idea where to start.
She found a black pencil-slim skirt, a wide black belt, and a short-sleeved white sweater with a black Peter Pan collar. “Try this on, dear. Tuck in the sweater. I think it will be snug, but that’s the look we want.”
When I came out of the dressing room, Amy gasped and the owner was all smiles.
“Perfect, Cara. Your ponytail and those bangs are exactly right!”
The owner said, “You remind me of Betty Page, but with more clothes!”
I asked, “Who’s Betty Page?”
Grinning, Amy said, “She was a famous pin-up model from the 1940’s and 50’s. And you do look a little like her, Cara. That outfit is just perfect on you.”
The owner nodded, smiling. “You must wear red lipstick with that outfit, dear.”
She packed up our purchases, told us to have fun at our Christmas party, and we left the shop.
When we approached the first corner, the men who had leered at us earlier paid no attention to us now. They were clustered around another man and it appeared some kind of business was being conducted. When one man walked away, I got a good look at the man in the center of the group and immediately knew what kind of business it was.
Amy whispered, “Isn’t that the same guy Randi was dating?”
I nodded, tensing up. If he recognized me, I might be in trouble.
“Walk faster,” I muttered to Amy.
Too late. Joey looked up and spotted me, his eyes narrowing. “You!” he shouted.
I stopped, Amy next to me, looking curious. Sean and I had never told our friends about our confrontation with Joey and his drug dealer friend.
He walked toward us, leaving the others behind. To say that he looked angry is putting it mildly.
I whispered to Amy, “Let me handle this. Don’t say anything.”
“What are you doing here?” he practically spit at me.
I looked him in the eye and said, “Shopping.”
He said, “You’re lucky Nick isn’t with me today. He can’t wait to return your knife to you.”
“Are you threatening me?” I asked.
“Listen,
kid, I’m a nice guy compared to Nick. You really don’t want to run into him again. But I’m not happy with you either. You broke up me and Randi.” Grabbing my arm, he said, “You need to be taught a lesson.”
I heard Amy gasp. She started forward and I reached out and pushed her back behind me.
I had one weapon she’d never heard before.“Let go of me, now.” My voice was deeper, echoing a little.” Amy gasped again.
Joey dropped my arm, looking confused.
I spoke again, using Vox. “Go back to Greenville. Don’t come to Thornewood again.
Leave Randi alone. You want to find a safer way to make a living. If you come here again, you’re going to jail. Do you understand?”
He nodded, his face blank, the anger gone.
“You can go now,” I said, my voice still echoing.
He turned and walked down the street to where a white SUV was parked, got in, started the car, and drove away as the group of men on the corner started grumbling.
I took Amy’s arm and hurried her to my car, got in quickly, and drove to Main Street, where there was more traffic. Pulling over in front of The Grille, I got out my cell phone and called Chief O’Donnell.
Amy started talking, and I held up my hand. “Give me a minute and then I’ll explain, okay?” She nodded impatiently.
When the Chief answered the phone, I told him that I’d just seen Joey and where he’d been doing business. I explained that he’d threatened me and that I’d used Vox to make him leave town. I described the vehicle he’d been driving, but I hadn’t written down the license plate number. He said he’d take care of it and thanked me for calling. Then he added, “Vox, huh?” I said yes and heard him sigh.
I turned my phone off. “Okay, Amy, I know you have questions.”
“Well, probably not as many as you think. Kevin told me about Vox, and how you scared the you-know-what out of him the first time he saw you use it. He said it only happens when you feel threatened, right?”
