Awakening

by Jacqueline Brown

  Sam and Jason arrived as the fire truck was leaving. There was nothing the firefighters could do except put out the smoldering ashes. The cause of the fire was deemed to be the hot coals of the fire Luca thought he put out before he left to come to my house—though they did no investigation to determine this.

  I was next to Luca when they asked him about anything he might have left plugged in. When he said the power was out, they asked about a fireplace. He told them they built a fire last night and early this morning, but he’d put it out before he left. They asked if he threw water on it or smothered it completely with ashes. When he said no, they closed the investigation and decided that was the cause of the blaze. I argued against this, in the end it didn’t matter. They merely said “Things happen,” offered their sympathy, and left.

  “I can’t believe I did this to them,” Luca said. The sound of self-loathing rang out in his voice as we watched Sam and Jason step numbly from their rusted Jeep.

  My dad went to Jason and Gigi went to Sam. The four of them embraced and supported as family does in a moment of such complete devastation.

  “You didn’t do this,” I said to Luca.

  “I left the fire burning. I did this. I destroyed the lives of the two people on the planet who care about me.”

  “You didn’t destroy their lives,” I said. “You put the fire out.”

  “I thought I did,” he said. “Clearly, I thought wrong.”

  I tried to say more, the words didn’t come. He left me and slowly approached his aunt and uncle.

  Sam instantly left the others and went to him, hugging him and crying as he held her. Jason put a hand on Luca’s shoulder, then released him and went toward his home. He stopped where the porch had been. The doorknob lay at his feet, surrounded by ashes.

  Jason stood there for a long time. It was Gigi who went to him. She put an arm through his. She was, in so many ways, a mother to him. It was with her by his side that he began to cry. She held him and patted his back, and I’m sure she said something like, “I built this house for you before, I’ll build it again”—because that’s exactly the sort of thing she’d say.

  Jason released her and wiped his eyes. He kissed her on the cheek and then went to his wife. Sam and Jason clung to one another. After a few minutes they released each other and Jason went silently to Luca. He gave him a slight hug, meant to say “I forgive you and you’re still welcome in my life.” It was a nice gesture, nice Jason didn’t kick him out—though Gigi would never have stood for that. But he shouldn’t have to forgive Luca; none of this was Luca’s fault.

  Gigi took Luca’s arm in hers. “Come with us,” she said. “Samantha, Jason, you two stay as long as you need to. We’ll be waiting for you at our house. We’ll get the guest rooms ready.”

  “You don’t mind us staying with you?” Sam asked, her voice sounding beaten.

  “How on earth could I mind having people I love under my roof. It’s the greatest gift you could give me,” Gigi said, and she meant every word.

  “Thank you, Gemma,” Sam said, wiping her eyes.

  “Take as much time as you need. The kids and I will be at the house. It’s too cold out here for the young and the old.”

  “Yes, far too cold,” Avi said solemnly as she pressed herself against Gigi. She hadn’t stopped crying since she arrived. Even now, tears streaked her innocent face.

  Gigi put an arm around her youngest granddaughter and, together, they started up the trail that led to our home. Lisieux and I followed, but Luca did not. Gigi must have sensed he wouldn’t come without being told to.

  She turned and said in her most forceful voice, “Luca, now. It’s not an option.”

  Luca hesitated a second longer and then followed us up the trail. Lisieux and I walked together, all of us in silence, Jackson loping beside me with his head bent low. Even he seemed to understand how awful the day had been.

  When we reached the fork in the trail, Jackson stopped and stared down the trail to the beach. He began to growl and the hairs on his back rose slightly. I stopped and watched. I was afraid before. Now I was too miserable to be afraid. Luca caught up and stood beside me. Together we studied the path. Wind blew, leaves swirled, there was nothing else to be seen.

  Jackson relaxed and wagged his tail, as if he wanted to go to the beach.

  “Now is not the time,” I said quietly, staring once more at the empty trail surrounded by woods.

  We climbed the hill. As we neared the house, my sisters and Gigi went toward the door while I lagged behind, wanting to make sure Luca came with us. He was moving far slower than the rest of us. As he reached the top, he raised his head and peered directly at the spot on the stones, the spot where the handprint was. He went toward it. I kept up with him. As he got closer, his face drained of color and his eyes became unreadable.

  I didn’t ask him what was wrong; something about his expression told me he wouldn’t be able to answer. I followed his gaze. The singed handprint was there, exactly as it had been yesterday, but next to it was another print—a larger one. I stepped closer. It wasn’t burned into the stone. It wasn’t burned at all, it was …. I went to touch it. Luca’s hand grasped my wrist.

  “It’s ashes,” he said.

  “Ashes?”

  He nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

  “Who could …?” my voice drifted off, Thomas’s face appearing in my mind. I felt sick. “He was here,” I said, tasting fear.

  Luca started for the kitchen door. “What if he still is?” he said, jogging forward and pulling open the door.

  My sisters were each flopping into a chair at the kitchen table, Jackson curling up in his bed, and Gigi was hanging her keys on the pegboard.

  “Did you lock the door?” Luca asked with a sense of relief.

  Gigi said, “I grew up in Manhattan, so I always lock the door. It doesn’t matter how many times my son and granddaughters make fun of me, that’s one habit I won’t change.”

  “That’s good,” I said quickly. “It’s a good habit.”

  She peered at me with curiosity.

  Gigi came toward us; she placed a wrinkled hand on Luca’s face. Ordinarily, his face was at least five shades darker than her pale hand, but in that moment they were remarkably similar.

  “Forgiveness,” Gigi said.

  Luca and I both stared at her. Did she know?

  “In time, you will forgive yourself.”

  “Maybe,” Luca said.

  “What is it?” Gigi asked, staring up at him.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go,” Luca said. “I have to be with Aunt Sam and Uncle Jace. They’re my family. I need them and they need me.”

  “They will be here in a few minutes, I’m sure,” Gigi said, trying to convince him to stay.

  “Then I’ll meet them on the trail,” Luca said as he stepped away from Gigi and went out the door. He avoided my eyes.

  Was he lying? I never knew him to lie before, even when it meant telling me a truth that sounded like a lie.

  Gigi was right. Sam, Jason, and my dad would be on their way back. They’d meet him on the trail and keep him from doing anything stupid. He simply needed a minute alone to think and he needed his family. I’d give him that time.

  Twenty-Five

  I sat at the kitchen table, anxiously waiting for my dad and Luca to return. It had been only fifteen minutes since Luca left, but it felt like hours. I shouldn’t have let him go. I should have insisted that he wait to meet his aunt and uncle here or I should have gone with him.

  The day was darkening, like yesterday, a storm was rolling in early. Unlike yesterday, the temperature was already near freezing.

  “When will Dad be here?” Avi asked, with the same worry I felt.

  Gigi pulled Avi’s hair away from her face. “Soon, very soon,” she said in a soothing voice.

  “It would be nice if they were here now,” Lisieux said, leaning against Gigi.

  Gigi placed an arm around Lisieux.

  My l
eg bounced with nervous energy as I stared out the window, waiting for them to appear in our yard.

  I thought of the ashen handprint. Did I really believe Thomas was involved in any of this? That he burned down Luca’s house and left an ashen handprint on the side of my house, right next to the one of the ghost child? How would he even know where the ghost child’s print was? Luca believed Thomas was in the yard on Sunday night, the evil surrounding him causing Luca to feel his presence. It didn’t make any sense for Thomas to do any of that. Though, neither did asking me on a picnic when he had no food.

  I shivered.

  We all looked up when we heard voices in the garage. Avi jumped up from the table and ran to the door. The rest of us followed. Dad, Sam, and Jason were coming toward us.

  Avi launched herself at Dad; he caught her midair and stumbled backward. Jason helped keep them both from tumbling down. Avi started to cry as Dad held her. She clung to him like her little life depended on it. He returned the embrace, glancing at Gigi. She nodded slightly, as if to say, “It’s okay, she’ll be okay, but she needs you right now.”

  “Where’s Luca?” I asked as they came closer.

  “Isn’t he here?” Sam said in a voice of tired concern.

  “He left to check on you,” I said, feeling blood drain from my face as fear washed over me.

  In a tone more tired than worried, Jason said, “Luca left with you all, we haven’t seen him since.”

  “Where would he go?” Sam said to her husband. “It’s freezing outside. He hates the cold.”

  “He said he’d meet you on the trail,” I said, my body feeling weak. “It’s the reason I didn’t follow him. I was sure you would be on your way and you’d run into him.”

  “We didn’t come from the trail,” Jason said.

  “We drove,” Sam added.

  Their Jeep was sitting in the driveway.

  “Then, he’s at your hou—your homesite,” Dad said calmly.

  “Yes,” Jason added. “I’ll go get him.”

  Dad said, “He might need some time. He’ll come here when he’s ready.”

  Sam shook her head. “He looks tough, but he’s very sensitive. He takes everything to heart. He’s probably too upset to come here. I’m sure he’s blaming himself for everything.” She started buttoning the coat she had been about to take off.

  “I’ll go with you,” I said, pulling on my winter boots that stood by the door.

  “There’s no reason for you to go,” Dad said, with a hint of concern as Avi continued to cling to him.

  “He’s my friend and he’s hurting,” I said, taking my coat from the hook.

  “Then I’ll go with you,” Dad said to me, attempting to sit Avi down.

  Her tears increased and she held him tighter. She, like Luca, was not as tough as she appeared.

  “Stay here,” I told him. “We’ll find Luca and be right back.”

  Dad released his hold on Avi, it didn’t matter; she clung to him.

  “Please stay with Sam and Jason,” Dad said to me. “The weather is going to get worse. And if you aren’t back in ten minutes, I’m going to look for you.”

  “Me too,” Avi whimpered.

  Dad sat, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t leaving without Avi. She squeezed her arms around him, her head buried in his chest.

  “I’ll stay with them,” I promised as we went out the kitchen door.

  Dad was right. The weather was getting worse every second. Already, the wind was stronger than it had been when we’d arrived at our house thirty minutes ago.

  Outside, I pulled the collar of my coat up around my neck and found some glove liners in a pocket of my coat. I peered toward the side of the wall where the ashen handprint was, beside the melted one. Even if it was Thomas who had burned down Luca’s house and even if he did know about the melted print, why would he put an ashen print beside it?

  The cold wind stung my eyes, making them water.

  The only reason to put an ashen print anywhere was to flaunt what had been done. It was not like the arsonist accidentally left a print at the scene of the crime. This was deliberate; this was done to take credit for the crime. It didn’t matter if it was Thomas or someone else. Whoever burned down Luca’s house had been at our house and they knew about the ghost print. But why put the proof of their crime by that print? To be found—but if the arsonist wanted us to find the print, why put it in an obscure spot on the side of my house?

  There were many other places where it would’ve been found easier and by everyone. The kitchen door or window were the most obvious. Instead, he chose a place only Luca or I would ever find it. Why?

  That’s what he wanted, the quiet voice in my head whispered.

  “You’re freezing. You should go back in,” Sam said, and I realized I was shaking. She thought it was from the cold; she had no idea it was from the terror overtaking me.

  Whoever did this didn’t want everyone to find it. Only Luca and me. He only wanted us to know of his crime, he only wanted us to ….

  “I have to go,” I said, my voice cracking.

  Sam grabbed my arm before I could run from them. “Where?” she said, searching my eyes.

  I could tell her. She’d believe me, but there was no time.

  “To the beach. Luca’s there,” I said, trying to pull my wrist from her grasp.

  “The beach? It’s freezing. He wouldn’t go to the beach,” Jason said through the wind.

  “Please, there’s no time to explain,” I said, begging Sam to let go of my arm.

  “I’ll come with you,” Sam said, releasing me.

  I sprinted forward. Behind me, I heard her say, “Go to the house, make sure he isn’t there, then tell Paul and Gemma we’ve gone to the beach.”

  The cold and fear burned my lungs as I pushed my body to go faster. Somewhere outside of myself, I realized it was raining a freezing rain, but my mind could not focus on that. I could think only of Luca and Thomas and the fear I felt.

  He wanted to get me alone; he wanted to get me to the beach. No, I corrected myself, he wanted to get me to the inn. Now he’d have Luca. Luca wouldn’t be able to fight, not if he stood anywhere near the inn or near Thomas. The evil within Thomas was no longer something Luca imagined; it was real. I understood that now. All of this was real. The ghosts, the hauntings, the demons hunting me and my family. Every word Luca said was true.

  I broke free of the trail, the freezing wind and rain hitting the raw skin of my face, making me want to turn back. I’d spent the last eight years terrified of even the simplest parts of life, and now I stood on a frozen beach, heart beating out of my chest, lungs burning, all to save a boy I barely knew—but a boy who was good. Really, truly good.

  The tide was low, the rocks exposed. I held my right arm in front of my face, the wind strong, as if trying to push me away, to keep me far from the inn. I could not allow it to keep me away. Luca was there. I could not see him, I could see no one. Even the inn was nothing more than a blur to my stinging, watery eyes.

  “Where are you going?” Sam called from beside me. She was panting, out of breath.

  “He’s there. I know he is,” I said.

  “The inn?” she called above the wind. “Luca would never go near there.”

  “He went after Thomas. He’s the one who burned your house down. We found a handprint. It must be him,” I called back.

  “Thomas?” she said. “Why would he do that? Why would he be here?”

  “He’s the opposite of Luca,” I said, understanding at last what was going on. “He’s attracted to evil.”

  Sam stopped moving for a moment and then started forward again. She was afraid, I could sense it. I would be, too, if I was not so worried about Luca. It was because of me he was in danger. He was right. Evil was doing everything it could to attack my family. Luca, when he moved to this place, became part of that family. But I wondered if there was something more, something more about Luca’s connection to my family. There was a goodness t
o him that was rare and wonderful. He was like my mother in that way, who had been created for my father, and evil had killed her.

  A thought entered my mind, a thought that was too much for the moment. A thought that made me wonder if …. was Luca created for me? Was that the reason evil was trying to destroy him?

  The smell of dead fish and sulfur assaulted my nostrils and made me cough. Sam was moving slower.

  “It’s okay,” I shouted to her. “When Jason and my dad come, tell them where I’ve gone.”

  “Siena, you can’t go in there,” she said, I could hear the weakness in her voice. She was getting sicker with every step she took.

  “Go back to the trail,” I yelled. “Get help.”

  I was on the sand now, in clear sight of the inn. I saw no one. I moved toward it, slower now, no longer running.

  The smell was so bad, even in the freezing cold, when smells die. The stink of rotting fish mixed with sulfur was making my stomach heave. I pulled the coat collar around my nose. It blocked part of my face from the rain and lessened some of the stench. My foot stepped on something: hard at first, and then soft. I lifted my foot. The slime of rotting fish was stuck to my shoe. The eye of the fish stared blankly up at me. My stomach heaved; I could not control it.

  I wiped my mouth, the stench threatening to empty my stomach again. I wanted to run away. I wanted to go back to my house, to hide, to sleep, to pretend none of this was real. The bile in my mouth tasted bitter and metallic. My stomach tried again to empty, I refused. Refused to give in to the impulses taking over my mind and body.

  That was not the only fish. The sand around the inn was littered with them. Why? Why did Thomas crave death and destruction so much he’d kill fish? For no reason other than to create their death?

  I stopped about fifty feet from the inn … the smell of sulfur now stronger than the dead fish. I turned back; Sam was no longer on the beach. She’d done as I asked and had gone for help. My heart sank. I was alone. Shaking, terrified, and alone.

  There was movement, I looked up. Thomas was on the porch. The air caught in my lungs. Silently, he watched me. I stood straighter, trying to tell myself there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just Thomas, the boy I’d known my entire life. How could he possibly hurt me, and yet I knew that wasn’t true. His eyes dark, his face hollow. His hair tangled and unwashed. His clothes torn and stained. Nothing remained of the boy I knew—the boy I didn’t like yet didn’t hate. As I watched him now, I felt revulsion and hatred.