Chapter Sixty Six
An internal inventory revealed nothing dark or sinister lurking inside or outside of me. I finally built up the courage to open my eyes. The morning of my 16th birthday, and everything appears normal. I’m still the same me I was yesterday. I had been really worried that a new dark essence or skill would mysteriously take over my body and transform me into something scary – like a dark clique chick.
My spirit light twirled around inside me happily and the inner fire was very warm and soothing. I’m getting used to my internal heat. It’s amazing how resilient a body can be.
The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity. Tray and Willow were preparing a super special “birthday breakfast” or rather – they were messing around in the kitchen, pretending to do something that might pass for cooking on some unknown planet. I wasn’t sure if anyone could eat eggs that had been scraped off the counter without getting sick, but I guess we would find out today.
Their orbits collided as Tray and Willow both wanted to prepare the same thing or both needed the same bowl or the same physical space. Their code language was still alive and they were using it as they bumped into each other. I interpreted what they were saying and laughed at their inside jokes. She completed a piece of my brother – one that I never knew existed until she came into our lives.
“Tray, can I ask something that’s NOT my one “exactly what I want to know” something?” I managed to squeeze in a question in plain English.
“Sure Sixteen, the sky’s the limit today on questions – what do you wanna know?” Tray stated with a smile and continued to scramble something in the frying pan.
Willow had spent the night with us, but Tray slept on the couch. BAH! I promised to wait until tonight for that question though.
“Is there any chance that my ‘silver light-mist thingie’ belongs to you? Are you channeling it to me?” I inquired curiously.
“Ummm, nope, I’ve never glowed silver to my knowledge…” Tray replied and laughed while shaking his head.
“What suddenly makes you think that the silver misty light might belong to Tray?” Willow asked.
“Well, I felt my spirit struggling to break free from my body last night, but it was like the silver light locked my feet to the ground. My spirit would start to release and then, I would feel this colossal rubber band snap my spirit right back into my body. When he channels a dance with me, his aura feels kinda like a rubber band too, so I just thought maybe….” I inquired and wrinkled my nose, perplexed.
“I wouldn’t try to hold you to the ground after I gave you my permission to do something. So you know for sure, that’s not my silver mist-light that you’re fighting with,” Tray informed me.
That was true – why won’t the silver mist let me release my spirit?
“Umm, I think we’re gonna be dining out for breakfast on your birthday, Sweetie…” Willow informed me.
“It’s edible…” Tray countered and surveyed the wreckage in the frying pan.
When Willow challenged him to take the first bite though, Tray politely declined. Needless to say, IHOP was delicious.
When we returned home, Willow had to polish my finger nails twice because I messed them up the first time. I impatiently waited an Ember-eternity (a.k.a. one minute) for them to dry. Then, I promptly ran my left hand across the nail surfaces of my right hand. The purple polish ended up all over my hands. Thinking I could fix it with a new coat somehow, I tried to reapply it by myself. This little plan turned out to be a gimonsterous mistake though. I ended up having to wash my hands and my arms with polish remover. Willow draped a folded bed sheet around my legs and tucked the ends underneath the couch cushions tightly before she would even begin to paint my toenails.
I moved Manicurist to the bottom of my ‘Careers to Have Before I Die’ list…
After the ‘crazy-purple-handed-Ember-incident’ was fully under control, Willow threaded some small, ornamental beads through strands of my hair. I picked up a handful from the ceramic bowl and studied them, carefully. They were all black and were hand-painted with tiny purple symbols. I noticed a theme as I separated them, discovering six distinct patterns. I tried to decipher their meaning, but couldn’t.
“Do these six bead symbols mean anything?” I asked Willow, inquisitively.
“Wow I can’t believe you noticed that! They’re gypsy runic symbols…” she responded and shook her head in wonder.
“What does each symbol stand for?”
“That one means protection…clarity…will…courage…calm…containment…” she explained as I showed them to her one by one.
“I sure could’ve used these beads a long time ago…”
Tray had been noticeably absent for most of the day, working on the station wagon or doing other stuff outside. I think he wanted to give me a chance to spend some quality girl time with Willow. Krista and I were always so busy with our gossip, ‘Ember-intrigues’ or one of our schemes that we had never taken the time to play ‘dress up’ – although ironically, about half of her wardrobe was currently residing in my closet.
My one misadventure into the world of makeup and high fashion back in November had left me running away fast and screaming in terror. Also, my complete disinterest in boys had me wondering if I had driven away any remaining female wiles, permanently. Well, I had also been raised by my very male brother. Therefore, my fashion skills and knowledge of girlie things were severely limited. I was really enjoying Willow’s walk-me-through of the girl world.
We were talking a blue streak about everything imaginable. Then at one point, I actually giggled. It startled me when that happened. For fifteen years I had managed to avoid the dreaded ‘giggly-girl-thing,’ but I hit age sixteen and I break my flawless record. Oh well, all records have to end sometime, I suppose…
After she finished threading beads through my hair, Willow stenciled me two, beautifully scrolled, free-hand henna tattoos all the way around each ankle. I noticed she used the same runic symbols throughout the design. I certainly wasn’t going to complain though. I had felt this strange sense of calm all day. That feeling of serenity should have made me relax, but instead it did the opposite. I was very nervous about what sunset might bring.
Oh sweet Creator, when did I get so jaded??
“Um, Willow, have you forgotten who I live with and takes care of me? You put beads in my hair, polished my nails, stenciled tattoos around my ankles and now, you wanna do my makeup too?? I’d like to wear the gorgeous birthday outfit you paid for before it ends up ‘accidentally’ shredded and burned as a ritual sacrifice to my innocence…” I inquired as she started pulling out her cosmetic bag.
“HHHhhmmmm,” she offered, evasively.
“I find it better to sorta pick my battles with Tray carefully,” I confided.
“I believe in picking my battles with him as well. I just pick all of them in the same day. It saves me from having to decide which ones to choose throughout the week. Also, I have a tendency to believe in asking for his forgiveness instead of his permission on a few select things. But, the rules state that you are not allowed to use THAT rule until you’re at least twenty years old – wait, better make that thirty in your case…” Willow declared and started laughing, hysterically.
So, it seems the war over ‘Ember’s-really-revealing-potential-birthday-outfit’ hadn’t been resolved between my brother and Willow before they went to bed. This unresolved issue could partially be attributed to my rather lengthy, but totally useless, attempts to release my spirit the previous night. I had selected the birthday outfit battle as my one argument because I wanted Tray to allow me to at least wear it to the Jansens’. I planned to keep my mouth shut because he is probably going to have a heart attack when he sees me and I don’t want to add to his suffering.
Willow said she wasn’t worried about winning this particular argument with Tray. However, she was extremely light handed with the makeup.
I inspected myself in the full length mirror and I couldn’t believe my own eyes. I thought it looked great last night, but with my hair curled, nails polished and my makeup on I looked way more stunning. I had morphed into a woman between last night and today.
My brother’s never going to let me out of his sight again – my exit from our house is kind of questionable as well…
His eyes were the size of saucers when he walked inside and saw me. Then, his look immediately clouded over and their battle resumed. Unlike the semi-good natured bantering from last night, this argument had real potential to turn into an all out war between them. My anxiety turned into outright fear. The internal fire responded by blazing wickedly hot.
They would raise their voices to each other. Then, they would then lower them, only to start shouting once again.
“She will not wear that outfit out of this house – period – I forbid it!” Tray shouted.
Wow, I sometimes hate it when I’m right…
“I’m the one that picked it out. I say it’s perfectly appropriate and acceptable. Are you questioning my taste??” Willow replied, heatedly.
“I told you last night, I’m not giving in on this issue, Carolina! I guess you should’ve listened to me…”
“And I told you I wouldn’t give in either, so what’s your point, Florida? I have to listen to your bellowed orders, but you don’t have to listen to anything I say??”
“This discussion is over…”
“No way – you can’t just stop in the middle. I counter your stupid declaration and say it hasn’t even started yet…” she shot back.
“I’ve gone as far as I’m willing to go with this…you tattooed her, for heaven sakes!” Tray exclaimed and he grabbed my leg as proof.
“I have her best interests in mind just as much as you do – maybe even more so tonight. You’re being stubborn and unreasonable – it’s called pig-headed.”
“Oh, I regret making you that promise…” Tray stated.
“I’m not about to let you wiggle out of it either. You gave me your word last night – no more use of obliteration during any discussion on this matter…” Willow reminded him, smugly.
I couldn’t take it, anymore and ran into my bedroom. I was a panic-attack just waiting to happen. I would have stuck my head under my pillow to hide, but I had been given the “don’t you dare mess up your hair and makeup speech” twenty million times by now. I desperately needed to do something to avoid my current reality before I had a total meltdown.
We’re just going out to the Jansens’ house on the Vaydem Preserve for cake and ice cream, but I knew Tray better than anyone. He didn’t even want me walking around our own house in this outfit with all the shades, closed – much less wearing it anywhere outside where someone might see me in it.
Neither one of them would give an inch. Tray and Willow continued to angrily disagree and I continued to be incinerated on the inside. I decided to hide out in my closet about that time because I couldn’t cover my head with a pillow. Then suddenly, I had a brilliant idea…
“Tray, I’d think by now you’d trust my judgment,” I heard Willow declare as I walked down the hallway toward the living room/battle arena.
“And I’d think by now you’d know me so much better than you do. Did you think I’d allow Ember to wear something that revealing out of this house?” Tray exclaimed and sounded hurt.
“I do know you…extremely well in fact…I want you to trust me!”
“I do trust you! It’s every guy that’s not currently blind, on this freakin’ planet that I don’t trust…”
“If you trust me then, you’ll let her wear it,” she lowered her voice.
“I’ve trusted you about everything so far and you know precisely what I mean when I say that. So, I’ve already proven…”
I entered the living room during the heated battle and cleared my throat, loudly.
They both stopped arguing and stood there speechless for a minute. Then, they laughed and hugged each other. The battle was over – winner – Ember.
I had searched through all of Krista’s clothes until I found what I was looking for. I was wearing her black leggings that had rhinestones down the sides and lace around the bottom. They didn’t hide the tattoos, but I didn’t want them to be hidden. I found the matching black tank top that had a very modest neckline. The outfit looked like it had been made to match. The leggings were tight enough to allow me to wear them under the mini-skirt, but covered enough skin to get Tray’s blood pressure back into the normal range.
Willow rode up front to the Jansens’ house. Their argument had left me thoroughly exhausted. So I leaned against the backdoor and closed my eyes. They had resumed talking in their native language even though they both knew that I could understand what they were saying. I think they chose it as their peace offering. This particular peace offering helped me remain optimistic about the answer to my question.
I almost fell into the floorboard from shock when I heard Tray tell Willow that he was getting ready to give in. My brother would never say that to her if it wasn’t true.
I felt something wonderful happening, but I refused to open my eyes. I would wait until later and be surprised…
Ember Rising Light (Book One) Page 70
