by Melissa Kuch
“I will see to her myself,” he said, his tongue seductively grazing his chipped front tooth. Officer Woolchuck nodded with a slight bow as he closed the window, shutting out any further disturbances from the crowd who couldn’t understand the measures he needed to take in order to keep this country from falling through his fingers like sand through a sieve. His chauffeur maneuvered the limo down the dirt road, and they made their way through the crowd and onward toward the Candlewick government building, where Henry Stockington and his oldest son Jonathan were waiting for him. Before he could enjoy himself with that reporter, he still had business at hand. All he had standing in his way were two troublesome teenagers and an oaf of a giant against the entire Common Good Army.
“It will end the same way it did before,” he swore to himself. “They will lose.”
he community of Plymouth Incarnate was fast asleep when Aurora poked her head out of the tent flap. It was pitch dark, with the fire pits extinguished following the funeral services, the scent of burnt embers lingered in the air. She had her backpack on and a sweatshirt snugly fit over her chest. It was cooler up in the mountains, and she was glad she had packed jeans as well. She tied her hair up in a ponytail and tucked Eileen’s cross under her shirt. This piece of jewelry felt comforting, as if there was a piece of Eileen still there with her, looking out for her, though that was impossible. Eileen was dead, her body beneath the Atlantic Ocean.
Boreas yawned as he stumbled out of his tent. He was wearing a dark gray jacket and his orange peddler hat that covered his messy hair. The jacket collar covered the bandage around his neck, and Aurora nearly forgot that it was there for a minute. It was almost as if they were still just meeting up on Wishbone Avenue at the corner stop sign.
“What are you thinking?” he asked in mid-yawn, looking at her puzzled face.
“I was thinking about Wishbone Avenue.”
He snickered with a crooked smile. “I wonder what Jonathan and Dad are doing now. Probably getting ready for the baseball championship.”
“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” She adjusted her backpack over her shoulders. “Do you think we’ll ever see it again?”
A cool wind encircled them at that moment and caused them to shudder, realizing that they were floating on the hands of the wind leading them on a journey where the destination was clear but the path unknown. They met each other’s gaze, and he smiled.
“If we do see it again, at least we’ll see it together.”
Aurora smiled back, that thought reassuring, and then they raced each other down toward the sandy shore where Otus was knee deep in the water, busy scooping out fish and throwing them onto the shore. The fish were flapping on the shore in a pile, wiggling on the sand.
“Breakfast,” he called out, holding up the fifth fish in his palm. He threw it with ease, and it landed right on top of the pile. Mrs. Xiomy was lighting the fire, standing out like a sore thumb in a deep purple sweater that clashed with her orange jeans.
“Does your whole wardrobe have to be the colors of the Common Good?” Aurora sighed, plopping herself down beside her teacher.
“You know the school’s mandated wardrobe. Besides, I make it look good.”
Boreas agreed wholeheartedly, sticking a fish on a stick and holding it up over the fire, searing both sides. Babs sprinted toward them, looking fresh-eyed in the morning with her tresses tied up in a long ponytail. Her cheeks were extra rosy from the early morning chill and highlighted the freckles speckled over her face.
“Morning. Fawn wants us to say good-bye before we leave.”
Boreas tossed Babs a slimy fish, and she caught it in a one-hand catch. She crouched down next to Boreas, and they seared their fish together. Aurora immediately felt sick to her stomach. She attempted to leave the campfire, but Otus reminded her that this might be the only meal they would eat for a while. Reluctantly, she squatted down beside Babs and cooked her fish, watching it brown on all sides. She cooked Otus’s too, and he stuck the whole fish down his throat and sucked the meat off the bones. He lifted the intact fish bones out of his mouth like a sword swallower and then tossed the bones into the ocean. Mrs. Xiomy shook her head at him and scolded him that it would hurt his digestive system and there would be no puking on her as he was running.
They cleaned up and dumped water over the fire, and the smoke encircled them as they stole one last glance at the safe haven. They didn’t know if they would ever see it again. Aurora felt her stomach churn and hoped it wasn’t the fish getting even with her. She took a deep breath. The scent of the salt water was invigorating and calmed her nerves. They walked as a single unit toward Fawn’s tent, and Aurora grabbed Boreas’s schoolbag so that he boomeranged back toward her, his ear pressed against her lips.
“Be nice,” she whispered.
He didn’t respond but kept his head pointed forward toward the tent flap.
Fawn heard them approaching and stepped outside, a flowing white nightgown draped over her slender figure. Her long, silky, black hair was hanging loosely down her shoulders, and she reminded Aurora of one of those angels she had seen painted in Plymouth Tartarus.
“I am not good with good-byes but wanted to wish you all good luck with your journey. Also, you won’t be able to find this safe haven again. But if you need it, we will find you.”
It was too early in the morning to decode Fawn’s cryptic riddle, but Aurora gave her a big hug and thanked her for everything. Babs promised that she would find a way back to her, and Fawn nodded to her as if they both were in on a secret. Otus knelt and bowed to her, and she kissed the giant on his forehead, making him blush.
Mrs. Xiomy held out her hand to Fawn, and she shook it.
“I know David would want us to work together if he was still here,” Mrs. Xiomy said, wiping a tear from her eyes. “I mean, he did love the cause more than he could ever love either of us.”
Fawn nodded slowly, and then out of nowhere she embraced Mrs. Xiomy.
“Please keep them safe,” Fawn whispered into her ear.
“I will.”
They released their hold, and the moment passed; the two women resumed their usual stiff attitude toward each other. The others took a step back as Fawn approached Boreas and he clung to his backpack for support as she walked toward him. She took the peddler hat off his head and fixed his hair with the back of her hand.
“So are you just going to disappear again?” he asked, avoiding her gaze. He tried to grab the peddler hat but ended up taking her hand instead. When he realized his mistake it was too late, and she held onto it and squeezed it in her own.
She smiled. “I never disappeared, Boreas. I’m glad now you know that.”
She placed a small white conch shell with an orange interior in his palm and closed his fingers over it.
“The Buddhists depicted this sacred conch shell to be one of the eight auspicious symbols. They believe its sound will help to banish evil spirits, stop natural disasters, and scare away dangerous and poisonous creatures. May it give you a voice when you are in need and bring luck to you and your friends on your journey.”
He looked down at the conch shell, in awe of this sacred gift sitting in the palm of his hand. He then looked back up into his mother’s hazel eyes, the same eyes that he had inherited, and nodded in thanks.
“I’ll find you again,” he said firmly.
She smiled at her son and said, “You and I were born in the same month. You are an Aquarius like me. Someone said that those under this astrological sign are either meant for great things or madness.” She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered, “Sometimes it takes a little madness to fulfill great things.”
Then, like a doe, she gracefully walked barefoot toward the ocean, her feet leaving imprints in the sand. Boreas stood there clutching the conch shell in his hand and took a step toward Otus. He nodded to him, ready to begin the journey. Otus lifted the travelers into his overall pockets, and Boreas stole one last look at his mother; she was facing
the ocean and the mountain backdrop beyond, looking out toward the other side of the mountains where they were heading.
Otus took a giant leap into the air, and they took off faster than lightning as the Sacred Hour had struck. They followed the map toward the heart of Orion, which was depicted clearly in the night sky. They flew over mountains. One giant leap from Otus resulted in ten miles, and he flew with each giant step he took. The wind was icy cold as they soared through the atmosphere, and Aurora told Babs to hold on tighter as she clutched the fabric, too terrified to scream.
Aurora screamed, “Woohoo!” into the night sky, knowing that they were the only ones awake during this Sacred Hour. But that wasn’t true, as she realized the mountains and the valleys were awake and embracing the night and the incoming breath of dawn. Otus lunged over the lush green valleys, the wooden cottages, and the assortment of trees. Everything looked miniscule yet majestic as the early morning sun rose and stretched its rays across the world below, as if the light was stretching outward from the heavens.
“This must be what God’s view is like,” Aurora thought in awe. Then she quickly added, “If there is a God.”
The adventure continues with
The Change Agent
The Second Book in The Hypothesis of Giants series
Melissa Kuch first realized her passion for writing after her first story was read before her third grade class. That childhood passion never diminished and instead continued to cultivate with each passing year. Today, Melissa’s stories and plays continue to inspire and entertain readers from all walks of life. Melissa’s short stories Cloud Pictures in the Sky, To Secure a Husband and Name Change can be found on Amazon.com. The Assumption is the first book in The Hypothesis of Giants series. Book Two, The Change Agent, will be available by 2014. The IDEAL has spoken! For more updates about this series and other works by Melissa Kuch, please visit her website at www.MelissaKuch.com. You can also follow her on Twitter @kuchmelissa
Every story is a journey, and this journey would not have been possible without the help and support of so many people. First and foremost, I would like to thank Adam Bock, who inspired me at the Southampton Playwriting Conference to think outside the box and try writing something outside my comfort zone. Little did I know I would embark upon writing this incredible book series. I would also like to thank Maggie Crawford, who edited my first draft and provided such helpful and encouraging advice and feedback to strengthen my work. Her valuable and professional advice helped me realize I was on the right path. I would like to thank Allison Arden for her helpful words of wisdom: once you find something that you are passionate about, everything else falls into place. Thank you to Keri Tan, my amazing photographer, who is a master of the lens and able to capture my personality on camera. Thank you to Ernie Layug and Out-Of-Time Productions for producing and editing my wonderful book trailer. I would like to thank my graphic designer Gerik Goncalves, whose amazing book cover is the perfect depiction of my story in a beautiful and captivating image. I am so grateful to know and to work with such a talented friend. Also, thank you to the wonderful editorial and interior design team at CreateSpace, who worked diligently with me to create this final product that I am so proud of.
I would like to take this time to thank all of my family and friends who have been there for me throughout this journey. With all of your love and support I have strengthened my craft and grown as a writer over these years. I especially want to thank the following people: To my friends Gloria Lee, Laura Ortiz, April Flores, Ellen Lie, Molly Rokasy, Adelyn Ruiz, Billi Vernillo, Michelle Vernaleo, Melissa Martinez, Lauren DeGorter, and Dalila Velez. You have always been there for me, and I thank you for all the moments we have shared, especially when I needed to vent and take a break from writing to hang out with the girls. To my brother-in-law Louie, who has always supported my writing, being my audio tech for my plays and never ceasing to believe in me. To my wonderful sisters Erin and Cassandra, who have supported me since day one and even helped me jot ideas down on a napkin in the early development of this story. They called it the Otus story. I am so blessed to have them in my life. To my amazing parents, my first audience who read everything I ever wrote. They came to my plays and supported me even when they didn’t quite get where I was going with this writing thing; but they always told me to follow my heart. Thank you for always believing in me. To my grandma, Eileen Panos; she has a place in my heart forever and I know she would be proud of the writer and woman I have become. Last but not least, I would like to thank my loving husband Mike, who was my first critic and supported me through this entire process. We were fated to find each other, and because of his love and support, this story came to life. I couldn’t have done it without him. To all of my readers, I am honored to share my story with you. I leave you with a quote from the musical Rent: “There’s only us. There’s only this. Forget regret or life is yours to miss. No other road, no other way. No day but today.”
