“You okay?” Stranger asked, stopping to turn and look at me.
“Fine,” I replied, embarrassed. I shook some of the water off, but I could feel it seeping into my sock.
“You haven’t ever gone this way, have you?”
I gripped the next branch and kept moving, stopping when I stood next to him. “No, but it’s all the same to me. Ready?”
He grinned and nodded, facing forward again. I was slightly annoyed by his positive attitude, but it could have been an effect of being embarrassed by my near-catastrophe. That would have been brilliant … me falling into the swamp, coming up soaked and stinking of stagnant water. At least there was that little handful of meager branches to help me out.
Passing the balancing act, we walked on solid ground again, and I was beginning to wonder where he was going. The trees were starting to thin out, signaling the edge of the swamp. But he stopped at a sort of small cove-like area where the trees hung with lacey moss and ferns lined the shore.
“This is one of them,” he said, stopping and spreading his arms wide. “If the water were in better condition, I’d definitely swim.”
“It is nice,” I admitted, walking towards the edge. The water even seemed a little clearer here. If the sun were out, it would have come through the opening in the canopy of trees, lighting the ground where I stood.
“And it’s close to home,” Stranger added.
“It is?” I asked, frowning as I turned around. Looking past him, I only saw more trees, though they were getting sparse in that direction. He nodded and turned around, walking the opposite way. I paused, but then went after him.
Coming out of the trees, I saw we had come to a further side of the town where the people preferred more seclusion. The houses were space far apart, though there was one right in front of me. The white two-story home was almost on the very edge of the swamp itself.
“Wow,” I said the second I saw it. “That’s where you live?”
“Yeah,” Stranger smiled, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Alone?”
He nodded as we kept walking towards the front door. He said he didn’t mind it at all since he was used to being somewhat solitary. I just nodded, still staring at the place in amazement. It was beautiful, really. The framework was subtle but elegant, and pillars surrounded the wraparound porch. A wicker table was on the front porch as well as a swing, which was peeling white paint over the floor. As we climbed the stairs, I came out of my amazement in time to see the little red sachet hanging over the door.
“What’s that?” I asked, interrupting something he was saying.
“What?” He looked to where I was pointing before opening the door. “Oh that. Just something I got from someone. It’s kind of a protection thing.”
It was similar to something Rene might do, but there was no way he was like us. You could tell with all people, and he definitely didn’t give off any of that feeling.
I passed through the doorway into the house, finding myself in between the living room and the kitchen. The setup was a little like Rene’s home, though it seemed so much bigger. It looked like Stranger had put some time into making it his own though. There were paintings on the walls, some framed, some not, and a few miscellaneous items that made me wonder about him; a bundle of dried flowers hung from one corner at the ceiling. All the furniture looked antique, like the paisley-patterned couch and the fraying tassels on the curtains.
“Did you furnish it all?” I asked as I drifted into the living room.
“Hell no,” Stranger replied. “All of this was my great uncle’s. I’m still filling it up with some of my stuff; make it feel more homey.”
I looked at the flimsy curtains and the pressed flower teacups in a nearby cabinet. If this was the only room I’d seen so far, I was betting the others were just as great. There was a kind of faded beauty to it all, and it already felt pretty homey to me.
“You’re really lucky, you know,” I commented, looking up at him.
“That’s what everyone tells me,” he replied as he went to the kitchen. “Want some tea? It’s iced.”
“Sure,” I replied, drifting to the cabinet of teacups and china. There was a glass tray with butterflies at the bottom and some silver sugar tongs layered with dust. I wondered if he ever planned on using any of it.
He returned with two glasses full of red tea and ice. I thanked him as I took one and sipped. It reminded me of summer and the hot, damp days in July.
“I’m addicted to this stuff,” he said as he flopped onto the couch. “I think that’s one of the perks of settling down: being able to make sun tea whenever I want.”
“Settling down?” I repeated, sitting in a small armchair beside the couch.
“Yeah, I’m used to traveling a lot. Sort of just living out of my car, stopping to live with people every now and then.”
“Sounds like a fun time,” I said, imagining him in a car, window down, one arm dangling out.
He shrugged. “Yeah, being a drifter’s all right. I just need to get used to this.” He gestured to the entire room before downing the last of his tea.
“Do you think you’ll miss it? Drifting?” I asked.
He shrugged smoothly, putting his glass on the coffee table. “Probably. I already feel restless sometimes. But would you have passed up this place?”
“No way,” I replied, “I’d just feel sort of lonely out here, especially since the house is so big.”
“I’m trying to get to know people,” he said. He stood and grinned at me, cocking his head towards the stairs. “Come on, I’ll show you the best part.”
I followed him up the creaking stairs to the second floor where he walked past the other doors in the hall. I glanced in as I walked by, getting glimpses of an empty room, a vacant bedroom, Stranger’s room and a small sort of library. But he breezed by it all, instead stopping at the end of the hall where there was a window etched with frosted glass.
“Looks like a normal window, right?” Stranger said, touching the vine design on the glass.
“Right,” I replied, wondering what he was getting at. He smiled and bent down, tracing his fingers along the wall below the window. Giving it a gentle push, two steps popped out, and he lowered them to the floor. He carefully tested the first step before looking at me. He didn’t say anything, but pushed the window open, letting in a cool breeze.
Beyond the window, instead of an extension of the roof as I expected, there was a garden taking up the small space. Stranger smiled at my reaction and used the steps to get out the window. It was a little bit of a tight fit for him since he was fairly tall, but I climbed through with ease after him.
We stood in the narrow path between the plants though there was hardly enough space for one person to stand. I was almost pressed against his chest, his chin right above my head. I leaned back as far as I could even if I felt like I might fall over into the mess of basil behind me.
“I’m worried I might kill everything,” Stranger said, laughing. I could feel the laughter in his chest, and the vibration of his voice made me try to take another step back.
“Well, it gets plenty of water on its own,” I replied, noticing the puddles of rainwater on the floor.
“Right, right,” he said. “Don’t you have to sing to plants to make them grow better?”
He was looking down at me for an answer, and I determinedly examined the rose bush a few feet away. “I’m not sure. I have a friend who’s a genius with plants. She’d know, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her singing to her plants.”
“Yeah? Maybe she can nurse them if I fail,” he said. He started to walk forward, almost knocking me over. He held my arm for balance until he passed, and I stood in place, watching him as he maneuvered through the plants. I felt cold as soon as he was gone, and the faint, refreshing smell of rain faded away. I looked up at the sky, wondering if that was the cause of the scent, but it didn’t seem like it now. Glancing at Stranger, I paused, wondering if my n
ext question would be too prying.
“So … your parents, are they—”
“Dead, yeah,” he replied, sitting on the edge of the roof. “It’s been about, oh—seven years now.”
“Seven?” I repeated, carefully walking towards him.
“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, and I decided I shouldn’t pry further.
I sat beside him on the roof, my feet dangling off. The trees of the swamp were to the left, almost within reach. The sounds and smells were drifting up close, and I envied Stranger immediately.
“Can I ask about yours?” he asked, staring straight ahead at the horizon.
My throat clenched at the question. The real answer was too complicated, and much too revealing. There was no way I could tell the truth.
“They died when I was really young, and I lived with my aunt for a little bit,” I replied. “When I got too out of hand, my aunt brought me to Rene.”
“Did she know her?”
“Sort of—not really.” I was running out of an idea for an explanation, and with Stranger’s gaze on me, I felt pressured. It seemed like he might know the truth just by looking at me.
“It’s a long story,” I said. “It’s hard to talk about.”
“Sorry—I didn’t mean to pry,” he apologized.
“It’s okay, I asked first.”
He smiled wanly and fingered a strand of his hair, still looking out at the horizon. Something had changed about him, but he bounced back a few minutes later, launching into a new set of questions about me.
We sat on the roof for a long time, but I hardly noticed the minutes ticking by. I was able to find out more about him, though it wasn’t too much. Most of what I’d heard was true. He was twenty-three, and he had lived in multiple places since he moved away from home in Seattle. After his parents died, he went down the West Coast, staying in California for a while and moving through Arizona and New Mexico. He’d been almost everywhere, and I admired him for his adamant travel.
“I got bored so easily,” he had explained. “Stayed in one place too long and I felt like I was going nuts.”
He was the first heir that was written on the will of his great uncle. He said he’d only met him once, so it was just as much of a surprise to him when he heard about the house. But what he remembered of the place convinced him to take it rather than let it be sold to someone else.
“Now I just have to calm down for a while,” he said, massaging the back of his neck. “I guess it was about time I took a break.”
“Sounds like it,” I said, laughing a little. In the time we’d talked, I’d gotten used to being around him. I felt more comfortable now, though it was getting colder since the sun was setting behind the thick layer of clouds.
“Okay, so I know a lot more about you,” I started, holding my arms for warmth. “You’re not really just Stranger anymore.”
“Stranger? As in a name?” he asked.
I hesitated, then laughed, suddenly embarrassed. “Yeah, well—you don’t exactly have a real name that I know of, so Stranger just worked.”
“Makes me sound a little evil,” he laughed.
“Well you’re not exactly known as a person yet. Sort of an unknown,” I replied. “But really—what is your name?”
His laughter faded away a little, and I waited, watching his reaction. He seemed to close off again, like before we really got to talking. I felt angry right away, as if it wasn’t fair. Here he knew almost everything normal about me, and I almost knew some things about him, but most importantly, he left out his name.
“It’s um—it’s Linden, actually,” he finally said, fiddling with his loose belt.
“Linden?”
He nodded and glanced up at me, half smiling. “It means lime tree, as much sense as that makes.”
“It’s nice—I like it,” I admitted. I wished I hadn’t said it, especially by the way he looked at me, like it was something he really wanted to hear. “I mean, it’s better than Riley. At least it fits you.”
“Hey, I like Riley,” he insisted. “That really fits you.”
“I beg to differ, but I won’t fight you on it. Not now, at least,” I said, shivering as a brisk wind blew against me.
“Damn,” Stranger—now Linden—said in reaction to the wind, his hair blowing all around his face. “Let’s go in.”
I agreed, and pushed myself up on my feet. He let me walk ahead first, and I clambered down into the hall, trying to straighten out my hair before he came in. The window almost slammed shut in the wind, and I heard the distant rumble of thunder. The sound made me panic a little; I hoped he would be wrong about the rain.
I followed Linden down the dark hall until he flicked on the lights at the stairs.
“I guess I should let you go,” he said as we walked down. “You’ve been here a while.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I replied, thinking of the slew of questions waiting for me at home.
“I hope it wasn’t too boring,” Linden said, walking backwards to talk to me.
“Hey, I learned your name. It definitely wasn’t,” I replied. He grinned, and I felt a jolt in my chest. I wasn’t sure what it was either.
Thunder cracked over the house, and I jumped as the lights flickered. At the same time, my head throbbed, and the throbbing increased to a painful shock as rain poured from the sky.
I couldn’t believe how bad the pain was this time. It had never been so awful before. The sharp pain was right behind my eyes, spreading throughout the rest of my head. It was blinding, and I squeezed my eyes shut as the world tilted and I could smell something metallic.
A hard surface collided with my shoulder, but I kept my eyes closed, feeling like I was about to throw up. Vaguely, I could hear someone saying something and I felt a hard grip on my arms before my knees gave out.
“Hey—are you okay?”
The pain abated enough that I could reply to Linden.
“No—sorry, this happens sometimes,” I mumbled.
“What does?”
“It’s um—they’re migraines.”
I forced my eyes open as I squeezed my temples. I realized Linden was holding onto my arms, keeping me upright. He stooped a little to look at my face as I pulled back.
“Can you drive me back? I can’t—”
“Of course I will, you can’t walk in the rain anyway,” he said, ushering me towards the door. “Ready to make a run to the car?”
I nodded, hardly listening until he opened the door.
The rain was pouring down in sheets, and I was soaked by the time I climbed into the passenger seat of his old station wagon. My hair stuck to my neck and face, and I pushed it all away, annoyed. My head still felt like it was slowly splitting. Linden fell into the drivers seat, shaking the hair out of his eyes as he started the engine. I buckled my seatbelt as the car lurched forward, and I prepared myself for a long ride, though home was barely ten minutes away.
When Linden pulled up to the house, I felt just as bad as before. It wasn’t as intense as when the storm hit, but I still felt awful.
“Okay, do you think you can walk?” Linden asked.
“I’m fine, I’ll see you around,” I said hurriedly, fighting with the door handle. Linden leaned over and opened it for me, and I avoided his gaze completely as I prepared to get out.
“Hey, I hope you’re okay,” he said before I could leave.
“Thanks,” I replied, stepping into the storm. Before I closed the door, I got a glimpse of his face under the spikes of hair over his eyes. He frowned into space, looking troubled and confused as the rain dripped down his cheeks. I paused, but then shut the door, making a run for the front door, hoping I could just sleep this thing off immediately.
RECOVERY’S CURIOSITIES
A slew of herbs were piled on the nightstand next to my bed. I could smell them, even in my sleep. It was what roused me the next afternoon, just in time to see Alysana walk in, a steaming mug in her hand.
“Hey,” she said quietly, shu
tting the door behind her. “How long have you been awake?”
“Your herbs woke me up,” I replied hoarsely. I tried to clear my throat, but it was too dry, and I grimaced as I brushed my hair out of my face.
“It’s a good thing you finally woke up,” Alysana said as she crouched next to the bed. “Rene was almost going to resort to the hospital.”
“Why was she so worried?” I asked, sitting up on my elbows. My head still ached from the night before—the night before. Everything started coming back to me: stumbling out of Linden’s car, running into the house and completely collapsing on the stairs. That was the last thing I remembered; I didn’t even know how I got into bed.
“Considering you were partially conscious when you got here, I think she had reason to worry. You wouldn’t wake up.”
“Sorry—I didn’t know it was that bad,” I replied. “So was it you that saved me from the ER?”
She shrugged slightly as she sat on the bed next to me. “I’ve only been doing as much as I can, just giving you healing stuff. I figured it was a headache, just a million times worse?”
“Yeah—I was at Linden’s, and when it—”
“Who?”
I paused, wondering if the questioning would begin. “Stranger. Linden’s his real name.”
Alysana raised her eyebrows in intrigue. She smiled and jostled my shoulder. “Well, now you know his actual name. But tell me later.”
I smiled meekly and thanked her, leaning back against my pillows. She instructed me to drink the tea she had brought and promised she’d have Rene make soup for dinner.
When she left the room, I noticed Omar hovering in the hall, waiting until Alysana left before tentatively knocking on the door.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Uh—no,” I replied mockingly as I sat up, pulling the comforter with me. I smiled and Omar stepped in, carefully maneuvering over my things that layered the floor.
The Evensong Page 5
