Moon Pirate (Priscilla Clarke: Book 1)

by Fallon Sousa

  “If it’s not going to be revealed to me yet,” she asked, “Then, why are you telling me all of this now?” Priscilla’s curiosity peaked nearly as much as it had when she first saw the forbidden book in the store’s main lobby.

  “Because,” she said. “I must begin to train you in the art of Moon Piracy; you must learn to take things from within your dreams; simple objects at first, then more. Perhaps. With the help of your sister and the other Moon Pirates, of course.”

  “When do we start?” Priscilla asked, fiddling with the top of her shirt collar. Her neck felt itchy all of a sudden.

  “Now.”

  Demetria waved her arm for Priscilla to follow, and then they walked back to the archives as they had the day before. She lead her towards a different corner at the back of the room; one with a door that was barely visible, its faint outline peeping out from beneath a flawless similarity in the paint color of the door itself and the door surrounding it.

  Priscilla was rather surprised to see the most beautiful garden that she had ever seen, awaiting her beyond the door. Blue-green grass adorned the soft-soiled ground, which was also lined with fine daisies and blooming roses. The sky in this garden was deeper and darker than that which hovered above the rest of the world. It was studded with the most glorious stars, made of yellowish-white beauty, that Priscilla had ever seen. In the epicenter of the garden was a smooth iron park bench topped with soft gold pillows.

  “Lay down there,” Demetria said. “It is specially designed for the first Moon Piracy because it is sprinkled with the ashes of the first martyred .”

  “Okay, sure,” Priscilla replied hesitantly, a little scared at the thought of sleeping on someone’s ashes that she did not even know. She laid down upon the bench, trying to relax. To her surprise, she was asleep almost immediately, but she could still hear the sounds from around her in the garden.

  “Imagine something that you’ve always wanted, but could not have, and say it out loud,” Demetria’s voice said. Before Priscilla had a chance to speak, she added, “Let’s begin with something small; perhaps a toy you wanted as a child or a new shirt or something.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Well, I’ve always wanted gold hoop earrings with diamonds lined up all around them.”

  “Good. Now, imagine that they are right in front of you. Tell me what you see.”

  “I see a jewelry store with a pretty glass window and the earrings are resting on a green velvet case in the window. I am outside looking at them.”

  “Now, picture the glass disappearing.”

  “Okay, I pictured the glass disappearing. Now what?”

  “Imagine that Belinda is there with you. She is inside the jewelry store, holding the earrings in her hand; holding them out to you.”

  Priscilla gulped. Her long-missing sister now stood before her. The little earrings were pressed against the child’s tiny palm, which was distended away from her frail body, held out towards Priscilla as she had been told to envision.

  “Now, reach out, and gently take them. As you do so, wish with all your heart that you had them. Do not focus your attention on anything--or anyone--else.”

  She reached out her hands and moved towards Belinda, trying as hard as she could to wish only for the earrings. She let her sister’s face blur away from the focus of her vision. Concentrating with all of her might, she took the earrings from the girl. At first, they were like empty air in her fingers. She wished for them harder. They became solid, icy and metallic to the touch, the rugged stones against the pads of her fingertips.

  “Leave now,” Demetria’s voice said to her. “You are finished.” Priscilla could feel something in side of her being sucked through the air, as if she were traveling through a vortex. She felt dizzy and disoriented. Then, she felt as if she were laying down once again. As she did so, she noticed herself lying on the bench. Then, she was lying on the bench. She woke up.

  “See,” Demetria added, “That wasn’t so terrible, now? Was it?”

  “No,” Priscilla responded. “I guess it wasn’t.” She was sweaty and clammy as she had been when she awoke from her nightmares back at home. Suddenly, she realized she could feel something clutched between the tired fingers of her right hand. The earrings, she thought.

  Fiddling nervously with the jewelry, she looked to Demetria. “I...I took these...from a jewelry store,” she stuttered. “Isn’t that stealing?”

  Demetria laughed dismissively. “No, of course it isn’t,” she answered. “You see,” she began again, “You only extracted the essence of those from the real thing and then made it real. Those earrings are still exactly where you saw them; in a diamond shop out in Finland.”

  “Finland?” Priscilla asked, feeling quite shocked. She still clutched the jewelry in her hand, and it felt like a combination of energy and poison against her delicate skin.

  “Yes,” Demetria answered. “You know, I’m rather impressed. Most people can only travel a few miles away on their first attempt. It really does prove that you are destined for this great mission more than anyone else could have been.”

  “There were others before me?” she asked, not sure whether to be insulted that she wasn’t as special as Demetria claimed, or relieved that she wasn’t going to venture out into something that was technically a complete world of the unknown.

  “Only two. Neither of them ever went on an actual mission. They were unable to pass the final tests that would determine their ability to venture out; nor were they ever able to completely prove their integrity.”

  So much for not venturing out into the unknown, Priscilla thought. “Wait,” she said to Demetria, adjusting her clothes, which had gotten wrinkled up from lying on the bench for so long. “Why couldn’t I just have brought Belinda home right then and there instead of working so hard for a stupid piece of jewelry?”

  “Patience, child,” Demetria replied. “You are not yet ready to complete your vital mission; not until the day that I will reveal the final truths to you. If you had even attempted to retrieve Belinda today, you could have lost her to that realm forever. In addition, when you do complete the mission; your destiny; you must bring back all of the Moon Pirates, with no exceptions. If you cared only to get your sister back, then you would be dismissed from this mission. However, even before I selected you out of all the remaining twins, I knew deep down that you are very empathetic and that you do care about all of those children; not just Belinda. This is true even if you do not believe it to be so in the present hour. In the end, you will bring them all back.”

  “How can you be so sure that I will?” Priscilla inquired. “How can you be sure that I can? That I’m good enough?”

  “Believe, child,” she said. “Simply believe and you will succeed.” Demetria let her hair loose from her typical bun, looking suddenly tired. “Go home now,” she said. “Enjoy today because yesterday is gone and tomorrow may never come. Don’t live in the past or worry about the future; every thing will turn out perfectly as long as it is meant to be. Those are words told to me by the wisest people of all.”

  Priscilla left Hear the Word and drove home. When she arrived, she found her mother and father already eating their dinner. Apparently, to her own surprise, she had stayed at work much longer than she thought she had. Yet, her family seemed happy to see her taking charge of her own life, and they did not seem to mind that she was late arriving home.

  “Hey, Mom; Hey, Dad,” she said to them, filling a plate with the chicken and white rice that was already cooked and sitting in a large pan atop their electric stovetop. Once she had piled her helping onto the dish, she took a seat beside her mother.

  “Priscilla,” Mrs. Clarke said. “How was work today?” Her voice sounded much cheerier than usual, as if she had experienced a better day than she had in a very long time.

  “It was good,” she answered, although she still did not know exactly what to make of the strange day that she’d just had.

  “Glad to hear that,” Mr. Clarke re
plied, spooning some rice into his mouth. “I can’t believe that my little girl is done with school and working already. I’m so much prouder of you than I could have been if you had gone to college. You’re learning to work for a living the way your mother and I did years ago. It’s different for the time, but I like it.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” she responded, digging in to her food with a voracious appetite, probably fueled by her newfound sense of self-acceptance and overall importance. Within minutes, she had finished. After that, she helped clean up and headed off to bed.

  Chapter Five: Flying Solo

  Priscilla’s ability to dream returned to her that night. Just before she fell asleep, she had begun to wonder exactly why she’d been going to bed so early since she started to work for Demetria at Hear the Word. I hope this dream realm isn’t taking over my real life, she had thought. Now, once again being deep within her slumber, she could feel the initiation of a new dream creeping up from the back of her mind.

  Her mind was soon consumed by it; she did not seem to have any more control over the images that flew through the depths of her consciousness. She was in an empty, barren field. Only wispy tufts of pale grey grass sprouted at infrequent places in the hard, dry soil. Not a single flower or blossomed fruit appeared in its endless expanse. There were no other plants to be seen from a great distance. She was alone.

  Priscilla walked and walked along the stone cold dirt; her feet were bare and her exposed arms shivered in the biting wind that swept over her, causing her night dress to sway in its wake. The sky was colored an unusual shade of pale orange; much different from what she had grown accustomed to over the course of her lifetime. It appeared to be some strange combination of a sunset and a night sky, all pictured as if amidst a blaring snowstorm coupled with thunder and the infinitesimal, almost indistinguishable presence of a summer sun that could easily have been hiding behind the majestic blue moon that rose above her head.

  As Priscilla walked along the infinite sterile landscape, it began to rain. The colorless drops were icy like hail as they hit her skin, first dampening her hair, they tracing down along her to her toes. Then, they grew suddenly warm before they fell to the ground, where each and every one of them was soaked up eagerly by the spongy earthen floor.

  Just then, she heard a cry in the distance; the cry of a young child. Her eyes were soon blinded by a flash of thunder so deafening, yet which was far dull enough that her ears were not spared the sounds of tiny footsteps. As their noise grew louder, a small figure became increasingly clear within the immense fog surrounding the over-filled clouds. Priscilla’s hands were shaking; she felt suddenly colder and warmer in the very same moment; her mind and her eyes were wrought with the confusion which accompanied this inevitable encounter. She could see and know with absolute certainty that the child was her sister, Belinda. With that realization came the fright that almost drew away the breath from her lungs that were already clouded with the pale and invisible smoke that swept in from afar.

  “I knew you would come back, Priscilla,” the little girl said to her, smiling a purely innocent smile and holding a single red flower in her hand.”

  “Where did you get that?” she asked her sister, pointing to the flower in the child’s hand. She had not seen any sign of natural life aside from the two of them before.

  She did not answer Priscilla’s question. Instead she simply supplied, “It’s for you.” She smiled again. When her sister did not respond, the corners of her pallid lips turned downward into a bereaved pout. “Don’t you like it?” she asked.

  “Of course I do,” Priscilla said, holding out her hand towards the girl. She attempted to touch the child’s shoulder with care as if she really were her elder sibling, but Belinda pulled away from her, and, just as she did, Priscilla could tell that her sister was made completely out of the same misty air which surrounded them and enveloped her so cruelly.

  “It’s not time,” she said, adding, “You’re not ready. Listen to Demetria; she knows.” Belinda looked down, her eyes shutting for a moment as they prepared to trace over the ground. She still held the flower in her hand; Priscilla had not yet taken it. When she saw her sister’s longing, grieving gaze meet her, she held out the flower. “Here, It’s for you,” she said again.

  Priscilla took the florid petal from her sister’s fragile hand, into her much larger and burlier one. She was careful not to crush the dainty rose with the burst of anxious strength that bubbled up inside her knotted stomach. The flower was completely solid as soon as it touched her skin. She was improving her ability to moonlight already. She closed her eyes and willed with all her might that she and the flower would return together, safely, to her home.

  Once more, she could feel herself being sucked from the realm of dreams and back into her unconscious body. After her spirit and corporeal forms had joined yet again, she could feel the immense heat that covered her. Perspiration poured from her scalp; moistening her ebony locks nearly as thoroughly as the rain had in her dream. Despite this, however, she still shivered with the icy cold feeling of indefinite fear.

  Her alarm clock buzzed; it was already eight in the morning. Priscilla turned over sleepily and groaned; she was still drained of energy from her unusual dream. She could hear her mother calling her from downstairs in the kitchen, which was situated just below her bedroom.

  “Priscilla, I made blueberry pancakes.” Just then, she realized that she was hungry for them. In fact, she had never been hungrier in her life. She got up without even bothering to get dressed. As she stumbled groggily over to her bedroom door, she inadvertently released her hand from the fist it had made. Something fell to the floor. She looked down; it was the rose.

  For the first time in quite a while, Priscilla smiled; really smiled. She got dressed as quickly as she could, and ran downstairs.

  I finally did it, Priscilla thought as she left the house after breakfast. I can moonlight on my own. But, what will Demetria think? She was feeling ecstatic; although the week before, she had known absolutely nothing about Moon Piracy, the fact that she had retrieved a flower from her own dream without her tutor’s guidance despite having just learned the skill made her feel accomplished in such a way that she could not have felt had she acquired any normal job. Priscilla could not wait to tell Demetria that she had moon pirated on her own, yet she was somewhat hesitant to do so because she was afraid of what the woman would think.

  Feeling as if there was nothing in the world she could not handle, Priscilla Clarke drove to work at Hear the Word Bookstore just a little bit faster that morning, while still remaining as careful to avoid an accident as possible. She burst into the main lobby with great energy.

  “Feeling a bit full of yourself today, are you?” Demetria asked, throwing Priscilla a sideways glance before looking down at a stack of file cards on her desk.

  “Maybe,” she answered, not exactly trying to make it obvious that she had possibly broken a major rule the night before. She clicked her fingernails nervously on a rail that blocked off a section of shelving by the side wall.

  Demetria took a deep breath. “I figured you would moonlight on your own after the precocious experience we had with you yesterday. I take it you didn’t traumatize your own senses so much that you want to abandon the mission?”

  Priscilla laughed, tying her frayed hair up into a ponytail. “Nope,” she said, adding, “I mean, I was a little freaked out at first, but I’m actually starting to think that this Moon Piracy stuff is pretty chill, except for the super-extreme weather part.”

  “I’m glad to hear that you’re growing accustomed to the whole thing,” Demetria replied, shoving a handful of the file cards into a neat little yellow container and stashing it into the top drawer of her desk. “But,” she began, pointing a finger at Priscilla, “You need to be careful, too, child. Very careful indeed.” The woman clicked the toe of her black leather sandals on the floor; they made a peculiarly benign tapping sound.

  “Of course I’ll be care
ful,” Priscilla replied solemnly. “I know all too well what Moon Piracy can do. I mean, just look at what ended up happening to Belinda the very first time she crossed over into the realm where Moon Pirates are.” She crossed her arms over her chest, bringing the left one over to her mouth so that she could bite her already gnawed-off fingernails. She had always been the nervous one as a kid; Belinda had been fearless and brave. Look where that got her, she thought. Maybe I’m not cut out for this after all.

  “Good.” Demetria was looking intently at an ancient clock ticking away up on the wall. It had to be even older than the oldest of the books Priscilla had seen so far. “I don’t think you need me anymore, child,” she said. “At least not until the day,” she added sternly.

  “You mean, like, I don’t have to come into work every day anymore,” Priscilla asked, feeling rather confused.

  “That is definitely how I would take it if I were my own boss and I said that,” she replied matter-of-factly, scratching an itch on her left ankle. She adjusted the strap of her sandal, then smoothed out her solid blue skirt with a wrinkled hand.

  “But,” Priscilla began, “What about my mother and my father?” she asked. “They think that I’ve been working hard. They’re finally at least a little proud of me because they think I’m making some money so I can move out and, you know, support myself. You haven’t even mentioned when you were going to cut me a check. I’m starting to think that you never will.”

  “Relax, child,” Demetria said. “If you need, I can send you checks in the mail for the rest of your life to please your parents. As for the time spent at work, you’re just going to have to find some other way to occupy your time during the day to make them think that you’re still coming.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that, Demetria?” she asked her mentor, anger rising from her soul up into her throat. “They probably have a GPs on my cell phone for crying out loud.” Priscilla was becoming uncharacteristically choked up. She felt way too sappy for her usual self--or her own liking, for that matter.