by Abra Ebner
As I turned from the main road toward the campus, I slowed my car as it rolled onto the quaint cobblestone roadway atop the dam itself. The gentle vibration was soothing as the cobbles shuddered under my weight. The college had utilized this dam as the crossing to the school, and I allowed myself to imagine that it was a bridge to my fairy-tale castle.
To my left was the lake that I had driven beside on my way up. As I peered over the ledge, I beheld the plunging drop, my head experiencing a gripping vertigo. To my right, the water churned, anxious and foamy in its attempt to escape its confines. The lake itself was crystal blue, and rich with minerals that added a milky consistency. Rocky peaks surrounded the water on all sides, reaching with open arms into an even bluer sky. The unique coloring was unbelievable and I recognized it to be Diablo Lake, upon whose shores the college was situated.
As I neared the other side of the bridge, I noticed a cascading waterfall drop like a graceful veil from a far peak and into the lake on its final decent. Its raw power humbled me, reminding me of my infinitesimal existence on this planet. I watched in silence as the falls misted the air around it, rainbows flashing in its wake. The wind whipped toward me across the water and I enjoyed the untamed beauty.
I tightened my grip on the wheel and held my breath as I heard a gust of wind tickle the small waves of the lake. The wind rushed toward me, unfazed by my position in its path. As it landed on the car, the cool breeze whipped through my long hair, making it dance. My skin prickled and I shivered from the chill, the hairs on my arms now standing on end.
When I reached the other side of the bridge, I released my breath, feeling refreshed and grounded as my car rolled onto the gravel drive, the water no longer flowing below me like a force of energy greater than I could control. I circled Diablo Lake and just a few hundred feet farther east, the road became even rougher. My tires struggled to find their grip so I drove with caution up the hill toward the front of the small cluster of buildings. I tried to stifle the anxiety and fear I now felt toward this unfamiliar place. My mind was cautious, but also roaring with curiosity.
An anonymous donor had created the Cascades College a few years back. Its purpose was to provide a Masters in Environmental Studies through hands-on experience and practice. There were also primary classes but mainly it was a place to get your hands dirty and experience the real world, in its truest sense.
When I had learned about the college, I remembered that it was the first time I’d felt my heart truly beat. Something about its design, location, and description felt more like home than anywhere I had ever been. I needed to be close to the earth, close to the place where life began.
I was never the nature-loving type, yet my choice to come here had been motivated by nature and my desire to heal. Ever since I could remember, I possessed a strange talent for growing plants; a green thumb, you might say. But my talent did not simply involve using the right fertilizers and making sure to water regularly. My talents seemed to involve something much more magical and indescribable; something I was here to figure out.
Turning my car off with a heavy sigh, I sat in front of the main learning center, the large ‘Welcome’ sign looming over me. I felt something flicker in my chest as it had on the drive up, and for a second time, it stole the breath from my lungs. I was right to come here.
Taking in the small modern buildings, I again wondered if perhaps I was dreaming. I had been trapped by the city for so long, that I had never seen nature first hand. Though I coveted the magazines on every store shelf, I now saw that pictures could not give it justice. Nature was a sensory experience, meant to be enjoyed in its natural environment.
A lanky red-headed man, startled by my abrupt arrival, jumped up from a bench by the office doors and ran toward my parked car with a smile plastered across his face. He couldn’t have been much older than I, but his demeanor made him seem years younger. He came bounding down the hill, tripping with inherent clumsiness. He was quick to regain his composure with a small smile of embarrassment. He wore a green plaid short-sleeved shirt with hiking shorts and Columbia boots. I chuckled to myself, finding his outfit a cliché.
The man was breathing hard as he placed both of his hands on the window. He leaned down to my eye level, locking his gaze on mine.
“New arrival?” he asked, in a cheerful voice that was also winded.
I looked at him with nervous eyes as anxiety gripped my stomach.
“Yes,” I managed to squeak.
His eyes were a light blue like mine, but unlike mine, his were full of life and happiness.
“Great,” he exclaimed, sticking his hand through my window for me to shake. “I’m Scott.”
I stared at his hand for a moment, allowing my anxiety to subside. Finally, I deduced that Scott was harmless, and I grabbed his hand between two fingers and gave it a soft shake.
Scott yanked his hand back just as quickly as he had thrust it forward, unfazed by my reluctance.
“Well, it sure is great to meet you. Would you like some help with your things?”
He opened my car door, and I cringed as it shuddered and scraped, rust flakes falling to the ground.
“Um…” I was processing the information as quickly as I could. “Sure. That would be great.” I pulled myself out of the seat.
“Thanks,” I added, giving him a small, tight smile.
Scott stood there with his hands on his hips, smiling eagerly. He was like a dog, just waiting to be thrown a bone.
“So what’s your name?” As soon as I was out of the way, he jumped forward, lunging into my backseat and loading his scrawny arms with my three somewhat small bags, the makings of my whole life.
“I, uh….” I stuttered, grabbing my throat, willing it to stop. “My name is Estella.” My medications always caused me to think slowly, as if I were in a cloud. It was an unpleasant but unavoidable side-effect of the medication I needed to make it through my days.
“Hi, Estella.” He grabbed a sheet from his pocket, juggling his load as he struggled to bring it to his face. He squinted. “Looks like you got your own cabin.” His eyes widened with excitement. “Cool,” he crooned.
I nodded in agreement. I had worked a few extra shifts at the fish counter of the local market to make that possible. I wasn’t about to bunk up in a group dormitory again, like I had for a good portion of my life at the orphanage.
“Well, then.” He smiled with a sweet glow as he urged me forward. “Follow me.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed my shoulder bag from the passenger seat and rushed to keep up.
“So, Estella…”
“Oh, you can call me Elle,” I quickly corrected him.
He looked back at me as I followed behind him. “Okay then, Elle… What brings you here?”
I looked at him sideways. What else would I be here for? “For the Master’s course,” I said softly.
“Oh, really?” He looked back at me again, this time scrutinizing my face more closely. “Aren’t you a bit young for a Masters?”
I shrugged, watching my feet as they struggled to stay on pace, nerves again gathering in my stomach. “I got my undergraduate degree while I was young.”
“Really?” He sounded shocked.
“Well…” I felt embarrassed and my cheeks began to flush. “It’s just that…it came so naturally.” I paused, breathing hard as we passed under a large pine that left a thick bed of needles on the ground. “It wasn’t very difficult for me. I had a lot of time on my hands.”
The fact that I never had friends made me resort to anything that could pass my time, and mostly that was homework and studying. I was a first class nerd and social reject. Even when I did try to make friends, my awkward personality eventually put them off. I knew that at some point, Scott probably would come to learn this as well. But for now, he seemed to accept this.
His eyes smiled at me when he spoke. “Then I am impressed. I’m in that program, too, but I’m not quite as young as you. I’m twenty-one. I kept pretty much
on pace with things through high school.” He eyed me with curiosity. “I suppose we’ll have the same classes. There aren’t many people here.”
I nodded, thinking that was how I’d wanted it, quiet and secluded. As we rounded the path, I finally spotted a small cabin nestled on the hill.
“So, that will be yours,” he announced. We approached fast, climbing onto the porch with our boots echoing beneath us. He threw down a bag so that he could open the door. I noticed there was no lock.
“I will just set your bags here in the corner. Does that work?”
I nodded again. “Yeah. Thanks, Scott.”
He thrust his hand toward me again, still the same energetic spark to his face.
“Well, good to meet you, Elle.” He still didn’t seem fazed by my standoffish behavior. “I guess I will see you tomorrow in class?”
I shook his hand and tried to give him another smile, though I was never able to succeed in getting it quite right. “Yeah, I guess I will. Thanks again.”
I shut the door behind him as he bounded down the hill with the same awkward gait as before. As I looked around the small, square cabin, I was pleased to see there was a lot more than I’d first imagined. I had my own bathroom with a small shower and a tiny kitchenette with a miniature refrigerator. My bed was full-sized, bigger than I’d ever had, and I experienced a small feeling of satisfaction at my turn of luck.
I reached in my bag and pulled out the thick envelope Heidi had given me. I slid it in the crack where the fridge met the cabinet, thinking I’d save it for an emergency. I pulled my boots off, placing my stocking feet on the wood boards of the floor, testing the texture on my toes. I then circled the inside perimeter of the cabin, inspecting every square inch of my new home and opening the blinds as I went to let in the light.
After deciding everything was in order, I sat on my bed and pulled one of my bags toward me. From inside I grabbed a small stack of moleskin journals and placed them on the shelf above my bed. I had began documenting my life the day I was able to write, a craft that soothed me. The simple act of getting my feelings down on paper was cathartic, keeping my soul open for happiness to come in, though it never did.
Deep in the bag, nestled between my clothes, I found the framed note from my real mother. It was the only thing I had from her. I flicked on the bedside lamp so that I could see it more clearly. The beautiful script and rough edges played at my emotions, and every day I read it in anticipation:
Estella,
You are beautiful, and it pains me to leave, but some day you will find the beauty you seek living inside your darkest soul. You are safe now.
The poetic words puzzled and saddened me. I had searched for her when I was younger, but found nothing about her or where she’d gone or even if she was dead or alive. And so my soul remained black.
Placing the frame on the wooden side table, I reached back into my bag and pulled a small, tattered brown box from its depths, treating it with extreme care. Opening it with caution, I retrieved a small pot containing a tiny purple plant that was snuggled inside. Grasping it with two hands, I set the purple clover on the sill and touched its butterfly leaves. It reacted to the light and stretched its petals toward the sun like an opening umbrella. I had decided to take just one tubular with me from my vast garden in Seattle, just one child with whom to start my new life.
After unpacking the few clothes I had, leaving some in the bag out of sheer laziness, I finally laid on my bed, letting my platinum hair fan out around me. After a few moments of restful silence, I pulled myself back up and reached into my bag once again, grabbing a book. I leaned back into my pillow and I began to read as the darkness of the night crept in around the cabin. Soon, only the light from the bedside lamp shone dimly across the room, casting eerie shadows against the walls of the unfamiliar place.
I glanced away from the page to the windows and realized that the hours had passed faster than I’d expected. The blackness seemed infinite and my heart began to race anxiously as the world of my book faded away. I lifted my head off the pillow and sat up, sliding my legs to the floor. As I approached the window, I was shocked to see only a few faint lights glimmer from the campus that surrounded me. I had never experienced anything like it in my life: profound darkness and quiet, all at once. I leaned toward my lamp and switched it off, allowing the lights outside to magnify.
After a moment, I walked to my door and opened it, walking quietly onto the small deck, not wanting to disturb nature’s slumber. I squeezed my eyes shut and tilted my head to the sky, enjoying the tranquility of the night. When I opened my eyes, I gasped at the tiny diamonds that littered the sky, sparkling greater than I had ever seen and in far greater numbers than I could imagine. I had read about the stars, seen images and studied their matter, but never would I have expected the sight that welcomed me now. The city lights of Seattle and the almost constant thick shroud of clouds made star gazing difficult.
My body and mind felt clear as I stood there connecting with the night. A light breeze swept playfully through my hair, gently caressing my face. I could smell pine and sage, and a feeling I had never experienced before slipped over me: peace.
For a moment I couldn’t help but feel I might at last smile, but then the wind subsided and my dark soul remained empty. As the stars twinkled ever brighter, I realized I was getting close. There was something out here I needed to see, something I was meant to do, but what that was, for now, would continue to elude me.
Learn More About Feather
and the Feather Book Series at
www.FeatherBookSeries.com
www.FeatherBookSeries.Wordpress.com
www.AbraEbner.Blogspot.com
Índice
Knight Angels: Book of Love (Book One)
