Awakening

by Jacqueline Brown

  “That’s far away from everyone else,” Lisieux said, her voice sounding scared.

  Avi came and wrapped her arms around me. I squeezed her to me, grateful, so grateful I had listened to what the voice inside me said. Grateful I had not allowed him to get me alone, away from Luca and my family.

  The wind rushed through the trees; the temperature was continuing to drop. Luca clutched his arms around his chest. His arms were bare; he must be freezing.

  Gigi said, “Luca, go home. There’s a storm coming in, and your Florida self will freeze without a coat. Siena, help him empty Jason’s wheelbarrow of the firewood. It isn’t fair he should freeze for our drama. Avi and Lisieux, be sure the chickens are ready for the storm. I’m going to call Thomas’s mother.”

  “His mom?” I said, humiliated.

  “This isn’t about you,” Gigi said in a formidable voice that reminded me she was the grandmother and I was the granddaughter. “This is much bigger than you.”

  Twenty-Two

  The four of us, plus Jackson, went toward the chicken coop. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t. My voice wouldn’t come. I’d stopped trembling. However, the fear I had felt while Thomas stood in front of me—and still felt, though he was probably miles away—was threatening to break me.

  “It’s a good thing you were bringing us firewood,” Avi said.

  There was no fear in her voice. There never was.

  “I didn’t want to interfere,” Luca said, speaking mostly to me, “but I couldn’t ignore Jackson’s bark or ….” He stopped speaking, pretending he had completed his thought as he slipped on Jason’s leather work gloves to finish unloading the last pieces of firewood from his wheelbarrow.

  “Or what?” Avi asked.

  “Nothing,” Luca said, winking at Avi.

  He was always extra nice to her. No wonder she liked him so much. Lisieux and I glanced at each other.

  “No, really, tell me!” Avi said, holding her hands tight, as if to keep from bouncing.

  Luca shook his head.

  “What was it?” I said, indicating it was okay to say whatever it was.

  He looked at me and back at Avi. “I had a feeling, that’s all.”

  “A feeling Siena was in trouble?” Avi said, eyes growing wide with astonishment.

  “It wasn’t specific,” Luca said, lifting his head as the brisk wind blew, causing him to shiver. “It just felt like something bad was near.”

  “That’s amazing!” Avi said, in awe of Luca.

  “Yes, it is,” I said, watching as Luca closed the wooden door to the chicken coop.

  The chickens could feel the fast-approaching storm better than the rest of us and had already returned to the safety of their coop by the time we reached them.

  “Now, Miss Avi, the chickens are put up, like your Gigi said to do, and the winds are coming in faster and faster. It’s time for you and your sisters to get inside,” Luca said, his gloved hand playfully covering the top of her head.

  Avi laughed and said, “Only if you promise to go home too. I wouldn’t want you to be washed away.”

  “Promise,” Luca said, holding up his hand as if taking an oath.

  “Let’s go, Avi,” Lisieux said, holding out her hand.

  “Siena has to come too. It isn’t safe to leave her outside,” Avi said, teasing me—though in some strange way I felt she was right.

  I started up the hill with my sisters, Luca watching us go. I turned to him.

  “Thank you,” I said, looking him in his eyes.

  He offered me a simple smile. “You’re welcome,” he said.

  When we were halfway up the hill, I turned again. He had turned at the same time. Each of us watched the other for the shortest of seconds ̶ ̶ a second that felt like it meant more than all the others before.

  “Aren’t you coming?” Avi said as Lisieux and Jackson entered the kitchen.

  “I’ll be right there,” I said. “I want to check on something.”

  “What?”

  “Something,” I said, walking backward. “I’ll be right there, promise.”

  “Fine,” Avi said, and closed the door.

  I went to the side of the house, the side Luca watched. The side that held the handprint. I found it quickly. It was a dark print, easy enough to find if you knew what you were looking for and where to look, but not so dark that it would catch your attention if you weren’t already searching for it.

  In the distance, thunder crashed. The storm would be here soon. My finger went to the print. Dark and clear, there was no mistaking it was a handprint. I held my fingers apart in front of the print. It was not quite as big as my hand. I stood up straighter. Luca’s hand didn’t make this print. There was no way. I stared harder, closer, almost pressing my face to the side of the print. It didn’t look like paint; the color had too much variability and it didn’t look like anything was sitting on top of the stone. It looked as if it was … indented into the stone.

  My index finger shook as I touched the stone. I felt the slight indentation. My mind raced and my breath caught. I pressed my finger against the stone and felt the smoothness. I pulled my hand away.

  “Melted,” I muttered to myself. “The stone melted.”

  Lightning flashed and thunder followed.

  “Siena!” Avi screamed in an irritated voice from the side of the house.

  I stepped backward, my eyes still on the handprint. How on earth did Luca make that print? How on earth did anyone?

  I backed away, forcing myself to do as Avi wanted. If I didn’t, she’d be at my side in a second and she was savvy enough to figure out something was going on. The print was at her eye level. If she looked at that area of the stone wall, it would be impossible for her not to see it.

  I went to the kitchen. Avi was at the door, waiting impatiently for me. She didn’t like us out in storms; it was the one thing she was afraid of. As the door closed, the rain began.

  “I hope Luca made it home in time,” she said, wringing her little hands as she anxiously bounced on her toes.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, “he’s either there or close enough to run there. He’ll be warm and cozy all afternoon, same as us.”

  Gigi placed her phone on the counter.

  “What did she say?” Lisieux asked, leaning against the oven.

  Gigi first glanced at me and then at Lisieux. “Thomas’s mother hasn’t seen him since Sunday after Mass.”

  “Where has he been?” Avi asked.

  “That’s the question. Brenda said he spent yesterday with friends and stayed the night with one of them. She expected him home this afternoon, after his full day of school,” Gigi said with biting sarcasm.

  I gasped, placing a hand to my mouth. “I didn’t even think to ask him why he wasn’t in school. I should have realized it was weird he could come over so early during the day.”

  “You haven’t set foot in a school since you were in fourth grade,” Gigi said—her way of saying, why should I think of him needing to be in school when that wasn’t part of my life.

  “Still, I should have realized,” I said, leaning against the back door.

  “No, Siena, hear me when I say that boy is not your responsibility. You have no ties to him other than the fact you are both children of God. And while that’s a significant relationship, it does not make you any more responsible for him or his actions than anyone else.” Her tone was frustrated.

  “Did you tell his mom how bad he acted?” Avi asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Lisieux said with a nod. “I heard the end of it. She was very direct.”

  “I tried being less direct and she wasn’t getting it,” Gigi said, angrily picking up her phone and putting it down again. “She tried to blame his egregious behavior on her dear, sweet boy being so very tenderhearted that Siena’s being upset with him after Mass crushed him,” she said with disgust.

  “That’s a lie!” I said.

  “Of course it is,” Gigi said. “People tell themselves l
ies all the time. She clearly has been telling herself a lot of them!”

  Lightning crashed and Avi jumped. Gigi came toward me. I stood motionless, not sure what she was doing. She reached behind me and flipped the deadbolt.

  “There, now,” Gigi said, forcing a smile and going to Avi. “We are all safe and sound.”

  “That is a serious storm,” Lisieux said as more lightning lit up the darkened noon sky.

  Our lights flickered. This was the type of storm that could send us into darkness for a week or more. That was the danger of living out here. The power lines coming to our house from the road were buried—my parents had seen to that—the lines leading up to our property were not. Trees often fell and when they did, we were left with only our generator.

  Thankfully, it powered the kitchen. We wouldn’t lose the food in our fridge or freezer. And in here and in Dad’s office we’d have lights. For the rest of the house we had plenty of flashlights, candles, and fireplaces. Our heat was fueled by an oil heating system. It was as old as my dad and just as reliable. Never in my life had we been without heat when we needed it—something we were always grateful for in Maine.

  The wind sounded louder, loud enough to hear through the stone, or more accurately, the windows. Little noise came through the stone. The rain was pelting the glass.

  “It won’t be long now,” Gigi said, clicking her teeth. We all knew what she meant.

  The soaking of the earth mixed with strong winds meant old, tired trees fell over and, while some would fall in the forest, others would fall by the road, taking down power lines with them. In every storm, my simple hope was that the trees would fall closer to town. It was an odd thing to hope for and perhaps a bit selfish. The closer to town the line broke, the more people who were without power and the more of a priority it became for the electric company to repair. Otherwise, it was only us and Sam, Jason, and, now, Luca. Two families were not a priority.

  The door to the garage opened. Jackson barked, startled awake. Dad came in. Jackson rose to greet him and Avi ran to him.

  “You came home early!” she squealed.

  She’d be happy, now that all those she loved were safe, together. The storm wouldn’t get us.

  “I wanted to get home before the trees fell across the road,” he said, lifting her into a hug.

  “Smart man, my son,” Gigi said, clearly relieved he was home.

  The two made eye contact, then focused on me. She’d told him about Thomas. I could tell by his expression.

  A second later, the lights flickered and went off. A moment after, we heard the generator roar to life and the lights return. The oven and the microwave clocks blinked back to life.

  “Did you hear what happened?” Avi said, her voice excited, like she had a fun yet important secret to tell him.

  Dad squeezed her and set her on the floor. “Yes,” he said.

  “How did you? It just happened.” She sounded disappointed she wasn’t the one to disclose the news.

  “I sent him a text,” Gigi said, busying herself with wiping down the counter.

  “Yes,” Dad said, “a text with minimal information and no follow-up.”

  “You came home because of Thomas being a jerk to Siena, didn’t you?” Avi said, studying him for the truth.

  “I came home because it’s where I was needed most,” Dad said, filling a glass with water.

  “I’m sorry you were worried,” Gigi said as he stood beside her. “I was on the phone with Brenda. That’s why I didn’t take your calls.”

  “I was afraid of something more,” Dad said, holding the glass tight in his hand.

  “No, no.” Gigi’s voice had lightened. “We are all fine, aren’t we, girls?”

  In her woe-is-me voice, Avi said, “I will be finer if someone plays with me.”

  Dad chuckled. “Avila, I just walked in the door. I’ll play with you in a few minutes.”

  “Lisieux,” Gigi said, “why don’t you and Avila go get a fire started in your dad’s office. It’s the perfect day for roasting marshmallows and a little extra warmth on a cold day never hurt anyone.”

  “You just want to talk without us around,” Avi said, folding her arms.

  “Yes,” Gigi said, “you are exactly correct. Now go, both of you.”

  Dad took Lisieux’s book from her as she got up from the table. “Are you doing okay?” he said as he hugged her. She hugged him back.

  “Yeah, I guess … I’m glad you’re home,” she said, her face pressed against his buttoned-down dress shirt.

  “Me too,” he said, holding her tighter.

  “Do you want to play chess later?” she asked, still holding on to him.

  “I’d love to,” he said, and kissed her on the head.

  “Okay,” she said. “Can I have my book back now?” Her face was still pressed to his chest.

  He smiled and looked up to the ceiling. “Yes, but be sure you are the one to start the fire, not your sister.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking the book from him and going down the hall to his office.

  With them gone, Gigi sat at the table and Dad came beside me.

  “How are you?” he asked me with concern.

  I shrugged, not sure how to truthfully answer that question.

  So many things were unclear. Thomas and his behavior, his desire to get me alone, the terror that thought brought me. But equally confusing, though far less terrifying, was Luca. I saw the handprint. His hand hadn’t made it. I wasn’t sure how anyone could have made it, and yet I saw it. It exists, and if it exists, do the creatures he told me about exist? And if they do exist, is he right about evil? Is it targeting me and my family? Is the inn full of demons? Is Thomas?

  “It’s a lot to take in,” Dad said, watching my shifting expressions with concern.

  I blinked. “Yes,” I said, and then I remembered something else.

  I went to the table and sat across from Gigi. “You weren’t afraid,” I said.

  “Afraid?”

  “Of Thomas. You weren’t afraid even for a moment. I was, Luca was, even Jackson was, but you weren’t.”

  “No,” she said, “I wasn’t afraid of Thomas.”

  “Why not?” I asked, studying her.

  “You think because I’m a frail old woman, I should fear a strong young man?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “No,” I said. “Not just because he is young and strong. He was acting crazy.”

  “How crazy was he acting?” Dad said, sitting beside his mom, his eyes darting from hers to mine.

  “Not all that crazy,” Gigi said, trying to calm his fears. She turned to me. “I wasn’t afraid, because you were in danger. I could sense it from the moment I stepped out of the house. And that awareness ….” She paused. “They always say there is no animal as dangerous as a mother protecting her young. That’s true in humans as well, and it’s true for grandmothers, not only mothers. Heaven help him if he’d tried to hurt you.”

  “But he did,” I said, suddenly feeling panicked.

  “What!” Dad said, his voice shaking with controlled rage.

  “He tried. The picnic basket was empty,” I said, rubbing my hands on my thighs. “He wanted to get me alone. Why did he want to do that?”

  Dad turned from me, his eyes too furious to look at me. “What did Brenda say?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

  “Not a lot. She apologized, said he’s been acting a little strange lately, but she and Phil will talk to him when he gets home this afternoon.”

  Dad tapped his fingers on the table and inhaled a deep breath. “I’ll call Phil later,” Dad said, his voice back to normal. “For now, let’s try and not think of any of that. Instead, I say we have a celebration.”

  “A celebration?” I said.

  “Yes. Life should be celebrated, rain should be celebrated, cold weather should be celebrated, having my children and mother around me should be celebrated,” he said, sitting straighter. “I’ll get the marshmallows, cho
colate, and graham crackers. You two can get the hot chocolate started.”

  “I’m not a kid,” I said. “S’mores don’t fix everything.”

  “Who said I was talking about you?” he teased. “I meant for me. Melted chocolate, gooey marshmallows, crunchy graham crackers—there are few problems in the world that combination can’t at least temporarily alleviate.”

  “Oh, my son!” Gigi said, placing a hand on his face. “You and Avi, two little peas in a pod.” She squeezed his cheeks.

  “Right, then. I’m off to find the marshmallows,” Dad said, winking at me.

  ***

  After several rounds of s’mores before and after dinner, I went up to my room. The lantern I carried cast an orangish hue on the walls.

  I knelt by my fireplace and pulled the few remaining pieces of wood from the box. I’d get more from what remained of our stash in the garage. Once the rain stopped, Lisieux and I would transfer most of the wood that Luca had furnished us into the garage for the winter. Fighting your way through snowdrifts for firewood was not a fun way to spend an afternoon.

  I lit the kindling and heated the flue. The wood caught easily. I’d keep a fire burning in here every night until our electricity turned back on.

  I pulled the metal screen together in front of the flames. From the practically empty wood box I took the leather carrier I’d use to bring more wood upstairs. I went to my window, holding the carrier with one hand and the thick curtain with the other. I pulled the curtain shut, staring out the window as I did. Rain trickled down the glass. The night was so dark I couldn’t tell if Luca was in his spot or not.

  Lightning flashed over by the beach. I paused. Did it hit the sand? The night returned to darkness. I remained focused on the beach. A light flickered.

  “Again?” I said aloud to myself, leaning forward, trying to get a better look.

  A faint light glowed. “It’s at the inn. It must be.”

  Other times I had glimpsed the light and just as quickly it had disappeared. This time it remained as if it had no fear of being seen on a night like tonight.

  The phone in my pocket became heavy. It was there because it was a good flashlight, not because I wanted to call anyone. A thought occurred to me—a thought that would not have occurred on any other day or any other night.