Dark Before Dawn

by Stacy Juba

  ***

  Ken poked a fork in the air at dinner. "Earth to Dawn."

  "You do seem quiet, honey. What a beautiful necklace and earrings. Where did you get them?" Her mother reached across the kitchen table and fondled the star pendant around Dawn's neck.

  Dawn hesitated only a few seconds – lying had grown easier. As if by telepathy, she and her mother had called an unofficial truce. Her mother wanted to believe she’d found friends to hang out with and that the uproar over the Scott premonition had died down, so those were the lies Dawn fed her. "At the mall with Jamie and Candace. There were three sets alike."

  Her mother's eyes crinkled in the corners. "I’m glad you’re getting out. I’ve seen your friends dropping you off, but they never come into the house. When do I get to meet these girls? They’re like phantoms."

  Ken snorted, but didn’t say anything. Dawn didn’t need telepathy to guess what he was thinking. Candace went out of her way to stand out and Jamie didn’t know how to blend in, so phantoms they were not.

  "How about inviting your friends for Sunday dinner?" Jeff asked. "We have a roast chicken in the freezer."

  Oh, God. Dawn wasn't ready for dinner at home. Jamie worshipped Serina and might mention her name. Her mother would disapprove of Candace’s body piercings and the truce would be over. Dawn hedged, stirred the potatoes and carrots floating in her stew.

  "I don’t know," she said. "They're pretty busy."

  "That was thoughtful of Jeff to invite your friends over," her mother said in her ‘Don’t give me an argument’ tone. "Besides, you’re with these girls all the time and I’d like to meet them."

  "Don't worry, we won't embarrass you," Jeff said. "We’ll be the coolest parents around."

  Dawn resigned herself to the dinner party. Even if she made up an excuse for Sunday, her mother would bug her about another time. Jamie, at least, would appreciate the invitation.

  "Okay, I'll ask them," she said with an inward sigh.

  "Ken, we’ll have plenty of food," Jeff said. "Want to invite a couple of the guys over?"

  Ken hooked an eyebrow. "You’re kidding, right? You’ve already given all my friends the third degree, so I think they’ll sit this one out."

  After dinner, Dawn changed into her pajamas and did her homework, checking her clock every few minutes. Candace was supposed to send a message at nine, followed by Jamie at 9:05 and herself at 9:10.

  Just before nine, Dawn popped in a classical music CD, dimmed her bedroom lights and relaxed under the covers. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply a few times, and pictured herself walking down a corridor. Dawn opened a glowing white door, climbed a soft white carpeted staircase and padded into her special acoustic room. Lapis Lazuli encrusted the walls and gleamed on the control panels. She twisted a sparkling blue dial to receiving and listened for Candace’s message.

  Then it came: We could charge money for this down the Center. We could read people’s minds and be a carnival act.

  Dawn laughed. She wanted to try responding, but it was Jamie’s turn next. She listened for Jamie’s voice. After a few minutes, a word bounced back at her twenty times. Apple, apple, apple. Dawn felt how hard Jamie was trying to send the word ‘apple,’ how she must have her forehead scrunched, determined to follow instructions. Dawn smiled, her eyes closed. I’m actually pretty good at this.

  When her turn came, Dawn invited her friends to dinner that weekend. Don’t mention Serina or any of this psychic stuff. My mother would go nuts if she heard what I’ve been doing with you guys.

  Dawn opened her eyes and yawned, exhaustion engulfing her. Her last thought as she dropped her head into her pillow was: I can’t wait to see what Serina teaches us next.

  ***

  The next afternoon before lunch, Dawn found a frustrated Jamie in the hallway. Jamie swung open her locker a little harder than necessary as she said, "I couldn't tune into you or Candace. I tried, but I couldn't do it."

  "I got the word you were sending. Apple. You must have done something right."

  Jamie glanced up from unloading her books. "You’re kidding. You heard that? I couldn’t think of anything better and I ate an apple right before bed. Do you think Serina will be happy with me?"

  "Sure she will. You try so hard."

  Dawn, too, yearned for their teacher's admiration, to move her, to interest her, to propel herself into Serina's esteem. It disturbed her how much she wanted to impress a woman she barely knew, but the more Dawn proved herself, the more techniques Serina might be willing to share – techniques that Dawn wouldn’t learn anywhere else. Not in Covington, Maine, anyway.

  And Dawn had to admit, hearing Serina’s praise felt good after all those years of discouragement from her mother.

  "I have something to ask you," Dawn said as they started down the hall. "My mother wants you and Candace to come over for dinner Sunday."

  "You mean, go to your house? I’d love to."

  She sounded so excited that Dawn wondered how long it had been since Jamie had visited a friend.

  "Just do me a favor, and don’t talk about Serina or being psychic," Dawn said. "My mother wouldn’t understand."

  "Don’t worry, I want your mother to like me. There’s Candace." Jamie pointed down the corridor. Candace rammed her fist into her locker and jiggled the door.

  "Uh oh," Dawn said. "I’ll bet she invited Tim to the dance and he—"

  Her words trailed off as Tim and a cluster of football teammates pushed their way down the hall. His friends jeered when they saw Candace. She glared back.

  "I don't know, man," someone cracked. "You're sure you want to go to the dance with Vicky and not her sister, Miss America?"

  "Come on, guys, shut up," Tim said, shifting uncomfortably.

  "You're all jerks!" Candace burst out.

  She whirled around and rushed into the bathroom. Dawn and Jamie hurried after her. They found Candace anchoring herself against the white porcelain sink, clutching the sides.

  "I knew I shouldn’t have asked him," Candace mumbled, meeting their eyes in the mirror. "I could tell he wanted to laugh in my face, but he didn't because I was Victoria's sister. He told me he was flattered, but that he loved Victoria and could never hurt her."

  She sobbed, then repeated, "He actually said he loved her!"

  "I'm so sorry." Jamie lowered an uneasy arm onto Candace's shoulder.

  "Then he went and ratted to his friends. He’s such a pig!"

  "You don't want him anyway, if he'd do that. There's someone out there for you. Ask Serina to read your fortune."

  "Serina should never have made you do this," Dawn said.

  "Don't blame Serina," Candace snapped. "It's not her fault."

  "But, it was her idea. If she hadn't pressured you, this never would’ve happened."

  "I said: don't blame Serina! After all she's done for you, I can't believe you have the nerve to talk about her."

  "I didn't mean anything. I was just–"

  "Before I brought you to her, you were nothing."

  "Nothing?" Dawn asked. "Thanks a lot."

  "Now you're developing these awesome talents that you've never dreamed of, that no one's ever dreamed of." Candace's voice dropped till it was barely audible.

  "Except maybe in their nightmares."

  Chapter Ten

  All day, Dawn wondered what Candace meant by her strange comment. The words chilled Dawn, made her dread visiting Serina’s that afternoon. Did she really want to learn things other people feared? Then again, stumbling in the dark as she’d done her whole life was scary, too.

  Jamie bolted to Dawn's locker after last period and announced, "I just talked to Candace. Serina gave us the day off."

  Dawn’s tight shoulders slackened. Maybe taking a break would recharge her batteries. "Good. I could use one."

  "I think we should surprise Candace at her house. We can buy fudge on our way. She loves fudge. Have you been to the Center Sweet Shoppe yet?"

  Dawn checked her hair in
a magnetic mirror, stalling. Candace had never invited them over before, and after the scene with Tim, today might not be the best timing. "I don’t know, maybe visiting her isn’t such a great idea."

  "Come on," Jamie urged. "If she seems upset, you can blame it on me."

  "Oh, all right," Dawn said. "Let’s go."

  They walked the half-mile to Covington Center. Most businesses were shut down, garage doors lowered. "For Rent" signs hung in a half-dozen windows. Abandoned water slides and flumes sloped in the distance, behind the boarded-up carousel. Covington had gone from thriving beach resort to desolate ghost town in a matter of weeks. Dawn bought a pound of chocolate walnut fudge at the sweet-smelling candy store. Delighted to see customers, the owner offered free samples of caramel corn and salt water taffy from colorful plastic bins.

  Dawn and Jamie continued another mile to Oceanview Estates. They found Candace’s house at the end of the cul-de-sac. Dawn stared at the cream federal front mansion with a pillared porch and widow's walk. A cool breeze ruffled the trees, carrying the sickening odor of salt water.

  Jamie pointed at a stone gatehouse off to the side that could have been a life-sized gingerbread house with its brown and white trim. Yellow leaves dripped down the roof like tears.

  "Wow," she whispered. "It even has a gatehouse. How can Candace hate living here when it's this beautiful?"

  "It sure is impressive," Dawn said. "Let’s knock."

  They shuffled down the curved driveway toward the main house. Dawn pressed the doorbell and chimes resounded. After a moment, an attractive woman in her mid-forties opened the door. She had Candace's red hair, but lighter with a style that tamed the frizziness.

  "Hello, you must be friends of Vicky’s," Mrs. Caldwell said.

  "Actually, we're here to see Candace," Dawn said.

  An eyebrow darted up. "What a pleasant surprise. Come in."

  They stepped into a spacious living room. Vicky was studying on a plush white sofa. Her mouth turned down in the corners as she recognized Dawn and Jamie.

  "Vicky, get your sister please," Mrs. Caldwell said. "She has company."

  As Vicky threw down her book and mounted the staircase, a strong sense of apprehension climbed Dawn’s chest. Vicky didn’t seem pleased to see them, and perhaps her sister wouldn’t be, either. "Company" for Candace was apparently a rarity – and maybe she preferred it that way.

  "So, what are your names?" Mrs. Caldwell asked.

  "I’m Dawn and this is Jamie."

  "What are your last names? Perhaps I’ve met your parents. I do quite a bit of community service." Mrs. Caldwell turned to Jamie, who shot Dawn a helpless glance.

  "It’s Barry," Jamie finally said. "I doubt you know my mother. She ... doesn’t get out that much."

  "You’re right, that doesn’t sound familiar. What about you, dear?" Mrs. Caldwell swiveled her head toward Dawn.

  "My mother and I are new to town, but my stepfather, Jeff Magnuson, is editor of The Covington Gazette," Dawn said.

  Mrs. Caldwell gave an approving nod. "How interesting. That's where Vicky had her summer job. She had lots of nice things to say about your stepfather." She paused as Candace trailed her sister downstairs. Vicky slipped out the front door, ignoring everyone.

  "I was just getting acquainted with your friends," Mrs. Caldwell told Candace. "You should have invited them over a long time ago."

  "Why? So you could give them the third degree?" Candace motioned toward Dawn and Jamie, her posture rigid and face expressionless. "Come on, we’re going to the gatehouse."

  "You practically live in that gatehouse," her mother said. "What do you do in there all day?"

  "Nothing you'd care about," Candace said, pulling open the door.

  She shepherded her friends outside where Vicky was hugging her knees on the porch steps. Dawn forced a smile, but Vicky turned away.

  Candace stalked toward the gatehouse, leaving her friends rushing to keep up. Dawn couldn’t stop thinking about Vicky’s strange behavior. For whatever reason, she didn’t like Dawn hanging around her sister, but it wasn’t like her to be rude.

  "You're not mad we came, are you?" Jamie asked Candace. "Dawn said we shouldn't, but I thought you could use a little fun."

  "It's better this way. Now you know what I have to put up with." Candace unlocked the door.

  "But, your mom seems nice," Jamie said.

  "Nice?" Candace rolled her eyes. "She’s a total phony. If she knew you lived in a trailer, believe me, she wouldn’t be so ‘nice.’ Come on in, I’ll give you guys a tour."

  As they entered, Dawn shivered at the refrigerator coldness. Candace switched on the light and cranked the heat.

  "The old owners had this built fifty years ago for their housekeeper. When my grandparents visit, they sleep here, but they don’t come that often."

  Candace ushered them through the two upstairs bedrooms, downstairs living room and state-of-the-art kitchen. Impressive oil paintings hung on the walls and glass knickknacks sparkled in curio cases. Dawn couldn’t believe Candace’s "gatehouse" was almost the size of Jeff's house.

  They stayed in a dark-paneled study. Black candles and crystals of assorted colors and sizes were spread across the open roll-top desk. Books on ESP, reincarnation, dreams and other metaphysical subjects overflowed dark pine shelves. Dawn examined a trio of pyramid-shaped red, green and blue candles.

  "Those all have gem stones embedded inside," Candace said. "You remove the gem as the candles burn down. Pretty cool, huh? My mother would freak if I put anything ‘tacky’ like that in the house, but she hardly ever comes in here. Victoria doesn’t use this place anymore either, so I have it all to myself."

  Candace settled onto a leather couch and opened the box of fudge. She offered pieces to Dawn and Jamie, who joined her on either side.

  "Vicky seemed nervous," Dawn said. "Does she know about Serina?"

  "Nope, but she knows I'm into that stuff, and she must figure you guys are, too. Maybe she thinks we'll gang up on her. It's kind of funny how freaked she gets. She used to think my ESP was neat. We’d play all kinds of games."

  "Really? Like what?" Dawn asked.

  Candace finished her fudge, chocolate darkening the corners of her mouth. "She used to make me guess what flashcard she was holding, or we’d stand in the Center and I’d guess what color car would stop at the next red light. If I got ten right, she’d have to buy me ice cream. When my mother’s friends were coming over, I’d guess what they’d be wearing. Vicky wanted me to teach her how to guess like that, but I didn't know how." She hesitated. "I would have, you know. If I could."

  So Candace used to call her sister Vicky. It was only lately that she had been crowned Queen Victoria. As Candace talked, her tone had a disbelieving note, as if she were describing two other sisters.

  "Why did you drift apart?" Jamie asked.

  "She went to high school and was afraid I’d embarrass her in front of her precious friends. When she saw me reading up on ESP, she'd get upset and tell me how weird I was."

  "I'm sure she didn't mean it," Dawn said.

  For the first time, she glimpsed hurt rather than hatred when Candace spoke of her sister.

  "She meant it. She used to be the only one I could talk to about this stuff." Candace sounded grim again. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I've got Serina."

  "She's not your family, though," Dawn said.

  Candace pointed a remote control at a glassed-in entertainment center. Alternative rock music snapped on from the stereo. "Yeah, she is. She's my mother and big sister rolled into one. Don’t you get it? We're all each other needs. Us and Serina. Nobody else matters."

  Jamie nodded, examining a tower of Candace’s CDs and DVDs. "We’re like a family."

  Dawn got up and feigned interest in Candace’s library of books. Serina had won their trust so easily. She had done so much for them. For her. Without Serina, Dawn would have no idea what her premonitions meant, no inkling that she could control them. She shuddere
d in her denim jacket. Maybe Jamie and Candace were right.

  If Serina hadn’t adopted them, they’d all be alone.

  ***

  The following afternoon, Serina served thick wedges of devil's food cake, chocolate chips sprinkling the mocha fudge frosting. It wasn't good for Jamie's skin or Candace's waistline. Dawn's mind jumped to the fairy tale Hansel and Gretel, and the witch who fattened up children to eat them. She instantly felt guilty for the absurd thought. Serina was just giving them a treat, and it tasted darn good.

  Candace, who was seated beside her on the loveseat, finished her second helping. She pressed her back against the wall and stretched out her legs. "Jamie and Dawn have been to the castle. They know what a phony my mother is."

  Mrs. Caldwell hadn’t seemed that bad, but Dawn kept her opinion to herself.

  Serina's long locks gleamed in the candlelight, more golden than whitish. She poured a mug of apple cider and handed it to Jamie, then placed the jug onto a silver platter on the table. She remained standing, her shadow dominating the dimly lit wall. "Now you see what you all have in common. You can't count on your families. Only on each other."

  Dawn stirred. How had the conversation jumped from Candace complaining about her mother, to Serina criticizing all their families?

  "What do you mean?" Dawn asked. "You don’t think I can count on my mother?"

  "Hasn't she uprooted you from the only life you've known? Hasn't she put her new husband before her daughter?"

  "She didn't see it that way. She thought a change would be good for both of us. Jeff was sure I'd like living in Maine. They were right, I do like it."

  Serina towered over her, arms crossed against her sweater. "Don't be naive, Dawn. Life is better here only because of us. Jeff doesn't care about you. He cares about himself, his son, and his wife. You're part of the package."

  Anger rose up in Dawn's chest, lodging in her throat. Serina had never even met her mother and Jeff. Dawn told herself to let it slide, but as the silence dragged on, she couldn't stay quiet.

  "Look, Serina, I respect you a lot, but you won't turn me against my family," Dawn said, focusing on Serina’s neck to avoid eye contact. "It’s not fair of you to try."