Eternal Youth
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Eternal Youth
Copyright © 2012 Julia Crane/Nolia McCarty
Published by Valknut Press
Kindle edition, first published April 2012
All rights reserved.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.
Disclaimer: The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this novel are figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional. The author humbly begs your pardon. This is fiction, people.
Cover Art by Stephanie Mooney
This ebook formatted by CyberWitch Press
For Mayme:
a supportive friend and an invaluable eagle eye.
June 25th, 2005
St. Augustine, Florida
Mom has been really freaked since Daddy died. The past few months have been this really weird blur. I miss him so SO much, but he’s not coming back. I just turned ten last week, and I heard Gran yelling at Mom because she forgot my birthday. It’s okay, I hurt, too, so I get it. But I’m wondering if my mom will ever come back from Daddy dying.
She started babbling on to Gran about something called the Fountain of Youth. I wasn’t really sure what that was so I did some digging at the school library. It’s a fountain that supposedly gives anyone who drinks from it “eternal youth.” I can’t WAIT to grow up, so it’s kinda strange that she’s so hooked on staying young, right?
But, that’s okay because Momma has decided that we’re going to find this fountain! And that means NO SCHOOL. How cool is that? She’s already planned our next few trips, and right now, we’re in Florida!!
VACATION!!
Not only do we get to go to the beach, but the fountain is in this theme park thing that’s really kinda neat. Mom doesn’t think it’s real, but it’s fun anyway. And next we get to go to Morocco, and then we go to Russia! I am SO excited. I can’t wait to get started.
The path before them stretched dim and treacherous into the smoke created by the volcano. Callie Bishoff stared bleakly ahead, her heart thudding in her ears. The very idea of walking into the volcanic haze and continuing towards the peak of Volcán de Fuego made her knees wobbly.
Further ahead and surrounded by the vivid green of the Guatemalan rainforest, Callie’s mother paused on the trail and turned. A frown marred her pretty face. “Calista Alana, get a move on.”
Callie rolled her eyes. Her mom looked so silly in that stupid rucksack with the ugly gold buckles.
Then again, Callie thought with a sigh, my backpack isn’t any cuter.
She watched her mother face forward once more—tall, slim, with hair a deep honey blonde and a tan that could shame the locals. Her mom was gorgeous, no doubt, and definitely not the kind of woman one expected to see traipsing about the rainforest.
Braden clapped a hand to Callie’s shoulder, interrupting her train of thought. “You okay?”
He could have passed for her brother. His dark brown hair and emerald green eyes were almost the exact shade of her own, and he was cursed with awkwardly pale skin like hers. The biggest difference between them was how tall he was compared to short and petite Callie. But, Braden wasn’t her brother—he was her cousin.
Callie waved away his concern. “Just hot. And tired.” In more ways than one, she thought bitterly.
Most people were apt to gush about being able to travel the world. To climb the mountains in Tibet; to zip-line through the rainforest in Costa Rica; to sail down the Nile river beneath the hot desert sun… Callie had done all those and more.
And she wished she hadn’t.
“Come on, we’re going to lose her,” Braden said, gently punching Callie’s shoulder. “You know how she is.”
“Insane.”
Braden chuckled. “Yeah, a bit.”
Callie shifted her backpack higher on her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at her mom’s retreating back. “Irrational.”
“Illogical,” Braden agreed with a nod.
Her boot got caught on a gnarled tree root and she tripped. Callie righted herself before she fell face-first into the undergrowth, and then stomped her foot, her groan echoing through the forest. “Why can’t we live a normal life? A two-story Colonial on half-an-acre of land with a white picket fence, a dog, and nosy neighbors who steal our newspaper.”
Braden’s eyes were sad. He just touched her arm and kept walking.
“I’m sick of this,” Callie went on quietly as she continued to follow him higher up the volcano. She gestured with both hands to encompass more than just the jungle. She couldn’t even appreciate its beauty—the majestic trees with trunks so large her hands wouldn’t reach around them if she tried and the neon flowers that seemed to glow beneath the dim canopy. It was luminous, and full of the sounds of birds cawing, monkeys screeching, and invisible paws brushing across the ground. “I want…normal.”
“Aunt Emma really thinks she can find it, Cal.” Braden lifted his palms to the sky as if to say who knows? A lock of curly hair fell into his eyes as he used one finger to push his thin, wire-rimmed glasses further up on his nose. “Maybe she can.”
“There’s no such thing.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do!” Callie didn’t mean to yell, but it was loud enough to cause all wildlife in the vicinity to scurry noisily away from them. She wished desperately for a pillow so she could bury her face in it and scream.
Her mother shot her a glare but didn’t say anything.
When they finally passed through the smoke ring, they lost all visibility. Like an off-white curtain, the fog cloaked everything around them so that Callie couldn’t even see her feet on the ground. She reached for Braden before she lost him in the abyss.
“You kids alright?” her mother’s lyrical tones drifted back to them, disembodied.
“Yeah,” Braden answered, his deep voice booming in a landscape that had gone eerily silent.
“Why is it so quiet?” Callie asked, gripping Braden’s T-shirt as they stepped carefully up the mountain.
“We’re close to the peak. The animals don’t come this far,” he answered. “Years of eruptions have destroyed the vegetation. I bet, even though we can’t see it, our surroundings have changed. Moon-like.”
“You’re always full of useless information,” Callie joked, pressing closer to his back. The lack of vision was disorienting. “How do we know we aren’t going to run into anything?”
“We don’t.”
“It smells like rotten eggs.”
Braden’s hand touched hers where it held onto him. “It’s sulfur. Quit worrying, Cal.”
“I hate her,” Callie spat, her anger rising like a geyser.
“Take it easy, Tiny,” Braden said with a short laugh. “We should almost be there.”
“Not that we’ll know where there is,” she grumbled.
Her mother’s excited yell startled her a few moments later, just as the fog began to thin. A little bit of visibility, and then a lot, and Callie’s mom was right in front of them. The dark, ominous maw of an opening in the side of the volcano appeared through the thinning smoke.
“According to the map,” Emma said as they approached, “the fountain is inside.” She had the map open between her hands—a giant piece of paper that had been half-destroyed by a monkey the night before. One corner looked suspiciously as if the creature had dined upon it.
“A fountain,” Callie said, refusing to look at her mom. She was worried if she did, she’d kick dirt at the woman’s knees.
“I’m positive this is it!”
You always are.
It was cold and da
mp inside the cave. Braden and her mom flicked on their flashlights as they stepped through the pitch-black opening. Always the rebel, Callie didn’t bother digging through her pack to find hers. She just latched on to Braden once again and allowed him to lead her.
Twin beams of light illuminated the usual suspects of stalactites, stalagmites, and rock walls that oozed water in yellowing, calcite lines. Other than the steady drip of water, nothing else broke the tomblike quality of the cave but the shuffle of their footsteps. The chill air was refreshing after the intense humidity of the rainforest; Callie had a wild urge to strip off her clothes and dance around in it, and promptly blamed it on malaria.
Inside such darkness, Callie lost track of time. Her cell phone—despite being one of the top-of-the-line satellite phones on the market—had crapped out about halfway up the side of the volcano, so there was no comforting glow to remind her that there was a world outside the narrow cave.
It felt like they walked forever, steadily heading upwards. At some point, the dripping water grew to a dull roar that became louder as they walked: a steady rushing, like a train on railroad tracks. The source of the sound became obvious as they turned a corner and emerged into a large cavern.
Braden’s flashlight swept across ceilings that soared high above; the stone had visible ridges where rock had fallen in the past, like upside-down craters. Her mother’s flashlight spanned the length of a wide, rushing river, illuminating cresting white caps and swirling eddies, until it paused directly across at a small inset in the wall of the cave.
It was obvious the river had carved the wall into its current crescent shape. A stair-step of outcroppings led from the bubbling surface of the river to a shallow pool just above the water line. The rock above the pool was decorated with shiny, pearl-like strands of natural stone, and the surface of the bowl was significantly calmer than the river.
“There it is,” Emma murmured, barely audible over the roar.
“It’s just another cave formation,” Callie said loudly, rolling her eyes.
“Aunt Emma, it doesn’t look like what folklore describes,” Braden said, carefully choosing his words. Callie’s mother was as emotional as Callie was temperamental.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Emma argued with a decisive shake of her head. “I’m going in.”
“Mom, you cannot get in that water,” Callie argued, reaching out to snag her mother’s elbow. “It’ll drag you under.”
Her mom shook her off and smiled. “It’s fine.”
Callie stepped forward to stand beside Braden at the edge of the water, and both watched as Emma yanked off her boots and waded in. Braden shone the flashlight on the small pool, lighting a path to the “fountain” for his aunt.
Even knowing her mom was a championship swimmer who had almost gone to the Olympics years before, Callie’s heart pounded. She kept her eyes trained on her mother, as Emma swam confidently arm-over-arm towards the formation.
She pulled her lithe body from the water with both hands and grabbed a foothold on the stairs. Braden moved a little to the left to allow her more light.
Callie’s mom knelt next to the pool and leaned forward, her head disappearing in the water.
“She’s going to get some kind of exotic, brain-eating bug.” Callie sighed.
Braden nudged her. “Buck up.”
A few long moments passed before Emma got to her feet and made the slow swim back to their side of the river. Braden handed the flashlight off to Callie and went to help his aunt from the water.
Her mother’s brilliant blue eyes were haunted, her face drawn. She swiped both hands back through her chin-length hair, smoothing it to her scalp as she drew near. By the drawn look of her face, Callie knew her mother was barely keeping the tears at bay.
“The fountain of youth does not exist,” Callie said coolly, then turned on her heel and headed for the exit. She didn’t even turn around to make sure her family was following.
Callie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the leather seat.
The plane was deliciously cool compared to the tropical country they’d just left behind. She reached up and angled the vent towards her, closing her eyes as the column of air brushed across her face. Stale airplane AC was loads better than malarial forest humidity.
She was anxious to get back to civilization. Just the thought of American food made her mouth water; she’d been dreaming about cheeseburgers for a month. Not to mention how heavenly a warm bed to sleep in would be after the bug-infested, Central American tents.
Her head was still reeling. She couldn’t believe her mother had agreed to return to the States…
They’d hit the bottom of the volcano before her mother had spoken another word. Braden and Callie were shoulder to shoulder, trudging along, when her mom’s voice called, “Kids?”
Callie and Braden stopped and exchanged wary glances, then turned around.
For the first time, Callie noticed her mom looked old. The weight of the world made the woman’s shoulders sag forward. The underground river had left her normally perfect blonde hair stringy and dirty—there were leaves in it: stark, brown, dead. Her mother continued forward until she was only a couple feet away, then stopped and gave them a wry smile.
“I’m sorry.”
Her mother’s apology barely registered on Callie’s radar. She was too sick of following her mother around on a wild goose chase. Nothing the woman said could make right the last six years of Callie’s life.
“Maybe…” Her mother’s voice trailed off in a sigh. “Maybe we should take a break.”
“And go where?” Braden put to voice Callie’s own thoughts.
Emma brushed her hands down the front of her damp, wrinkled blue jeans and glanced around the forest as if looking for inspiration. “Well, let’s go home. To Gran’s house. We’ll figure it out from there.”
Braden startled Callie from her thoughts when he held out one of the plane’s gossip magazines and waved it in her face. “Here. This will keep your mind off things.”
Outside the small window, the sun was setting over the wing of the plane, glinting off the metal. Callie glanced over at her cousin and smiled gratefully, then took the mag and opened it across her lap. Braden clicked on the light above her head so she could see. Just that small action brought tears to her eyes.
She really didn’t know how she would have survived the last few years if it weren’t for his companionship.
It hadn’t been as hard at first. When her father had died, Callie was ten years old. She’d had such a fresh outlook on the world that her mother’s insane quest to find the fountain of youth hadn’t bothered her. It was only around the time that Callie turned thirteen that it became a chore: the lack of a home, the constant desire for friends…hell, even a boyfriend.
She sighed. In a way, Callie could understand. The sudden loss of her father made it painfully obvious that a human being’s time in the world was limited. Her mother was chasing immortality.
Callie turned back to her magazine. It was from September 2011, so only a month old, but she still felt out of touch. Traveling always made her feel like she lived inside a continuous time warp.
Callie flipped a page and rolled her eyes. Her dad had been a movie director in Hollywood—a big name who knew all the right people and made all the right movies. Callie knew that the pretty brunette advertising six-hundred-dollar jeans in the front of the mag was airbrushed to within an inch of her life. It’s what Hollywood did; it’s what Hollywood was—plastic. Fake.
It made Callie sick that girls and guys obsessed over being as pretty or as thin as the celebrities. Every time she turned around, there was another Nightline segment about preteen nose jobs or twenty-year-old breast enhancements—all because Hollywood set an ideal too high for the average person.
Callie even felt bad for the celebrities. Imagine working hard to fit the ideal only to have your waist narrowed and your thighs shaved down. That can’t be a good for the ego.
Callie glanced over at her mother. She was across the aisle from the two of them, wrapped tightly in a pale blue airplane blanket as she stared straight ahead. Callie hadn’t seen even her hand move in an hour.
Callie shrugged. “Maybe she’s finally ready to face reality.”
“I doubt it. She probably just needs time to recuperate.” Braden slouched down in his seat and shoved his long legs against the chair in front of him. “This hunt is what seems to keep her going since your dad…. I can’t imagine what would happen to her if she sat still for too long. She’d probably implode.”
Callie ran her fingertips over the edge of the magazine, avoiding Braden’s eyes as she murmured, “I wish she would let it go. She’s wasting the life she has in search of a fairytale. Not to mention she’s making my life hell. How am I ever going to get a boyfriend when I don’t stay in one place?”
“Let her work through her issues, Cal.”
Callie narrowed her eyes. “So I have to deal with her issues as well as my own?”
Braden took a deep breath and let it out, turning his head against the seat until he could stare into her eyes. “You’re right. It is hard on you, but it’s hard on her, too.”
Callie flipped another page in her magazine and didn’t answer. There was no justification for her mother’s actions.
But there wasn’t for Callie’s anger, either.
March 11th, 2007
Some place I can’t spell, South Africa
Drums. Mom let Braden buy drums and now I’m sitting in a random, albeit clean, hostel listening to him pound on the thing as if he were the NEXT GREAT rock ‘n roll star.
I’ll be the first to say it: HE IS SO NOT.
I think that boys have this insane need to be noisy. Like Jared, that one housekeeper’s kid when I was like six. He would run around the house, screaming at the top of his lungs for NO REASON. ???? If I ever have kids, I’m muzzling them.