Ripples (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 2)

by Rauscher, Meaghan

  “That’s what I thought too,” I acknowledged and turned back around. I caught him looking at me but he averted his eyes quickly. It was the same thing that had happened numerous times since I had returned. Every now and again I would catch the twins, Dad, or Jillian looking at me in a weird way. Sometimes it made me feel as though they expected me to sprout fins immediately and flop around on the ground, which was easier than when I saw them look at me with pity. Curiosity I could take, but pity was something I held at bay.

  “Do you have anything planned for today?” Dad turned my own question back on me. I shook my head.

  “No, well, I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it yet. I don’t work today, so there isn’t much else to do.” I thought about the book that rested on my bedside table in my bedroom but knew I wouldn’t pick it up today. For some reason I couldn’t sympathize with the characters and when I had last tried to read, there was a hint of a romance that made me slam the book shut with more force than necessary.

  Dad nodded and for the first time I realized my mannerisms mirrored his. So often I nodded my head or shook it in response to a question rather than speaking the words. For some reason the thought gave me a bit of warmth, as though I belonged here.

  “You know what?” I said suddenly the idea hitting me. Dad looked up from his coffee mug to meet my gaze. “I think I’ll go for a walk, you know, get some fresh air.”

  Dad nodded and a small smile tugged at my mouth. Leaving my mug on the table, I darted to the stairs and up into my room to change. With black workout leggings, running shoes and a warm fleece jacket thrown on, I made my way back down the stairs and to the side door of the house. Dad was still sitting at the table, his hands around his own coffee cup, but the daily paper stretched out across the surface of the wood.

  Just seeing him brought emotions I had buried down deep within my soul to the surface. Without thinking, I approached him from behind and wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders. He startled in surprise, but relaxed and patted my arms with his worn, work-roughened hands.

  “You’re not going somewhere are you?” he asked, and I noticed how he tried to keep his voice calm.

  “No,” I said and released my arms from around him and kissed him on the head. “That was for the last time.”

  He patted my arm again and I knew I was forgiven. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders as I turned and left the house, stepping into the brisk morning Maine-air.

  My breath puffed in front of me, in little clouds that dissipated with the chilling breeze, as I made my way down the driveway and onto the road. This time I was taking the long way to town, wanting to avoid as many people as possible. There were hardly any cars along the almost private drive; I had little to fear of oncoming traffic.

  Scrunching my toes, I tried to walk comfortably in the tight athletic shoes. After months of going barefoot, shoes were one thing I was having a hard time adjusting too. Each step on the asphalt sent a soft shock up my legs and I began to feel more aware of everything around me than I had in a long time. Taking a deep breath, I filled my lungs for what seemed like the first time in ages. The sounds of crackling branches and far off crashing waves reached my ears and there was a feeling of excitement in the air; a quiet shrouded form of anticipation for the looming snow fall. The energy of my surroundings filled me with the need to move. Like the thrum of a drum beat, I could feel the rhythm of energy pounding in my veins and before I knew what was happening, I was running.

  My legs pumped harder and harder as I streaked down the roadway and into town. My hair rippled in slow motion beside my face and I quickly pulled up the hood of the jacket, to keep unknowing eyes from seeing the odd movement.

  The feeling of my blood running through my body, my heart having to pump oxygen through my veins, only made me push forward faster. The need to feel alive thrummed through my entire being and I ran with a speed I never knew I had.

  Running across Main Street, I dodged around people but I hardly noticed their presence. I wanted and needed to get away from anyone nearby, and I surged forward into the outskirts of town where I kept on running. My pounding limbs kept me moving and when the snow began to fall I turned back toward town. It was almost midday when I reached Main Street once more and the shops and restaurants were crowded with bundled up tourists, who scuttled from one warm doorway to the next like crabs moving from meal to meal. I jogged past them without making eye contact, while my hood bounced up and down around my eyes.

  More than once, I heard someone call my name but ignored it, trying to pretend I was listening to music. I smiled internally, thinking about how ridiculous I was, but the need to keep going and feel something was enough to have kept me running for the past two hours.

  With a large exhalation, that blew the snowflakes off my lips, I saw the pier up ahead and ran for the wooden planks. Only before I stepped onto the solid beams, did I have the intelligence to slow my pace and stop running. My legs strained upon stopping and threatened to give way, but I kept walking through the newly fallen snow and onto the slick boards of the pier. The exhaustion in my legs and the pounding in my heart brought a heat to my face that I hadn’t felt in so long.

  Reaching the end of the pier, I looked down into the dark foaming waters that formed the mouth of the sea. With each slap-slap of the waves against the wooden poles, I felt my body ache for my fins, but I shook the thought from my mind. Resting against the railing, I looked out over the water at the passing boats entering the harbor. Through the falling snow I could make out the many fishermen covering their boats in the harbor, while those who entered were preparing their decks for the unloading of half a day’s catch. Others would continue to arrive throughout the day, but those stuck at the sea would soon have to fight the storm that was threatening on the horizon. From where I stood, I could see the white caps of the waves outside the harbor.

  I shivered and noticed a familiar boat docking at the harbor. The two pale heads were bent over their work as they prepared the boat for the oncoming storm. As if feeling my gaze, one of them looked up and saw me standing on the pier. He smacked his brother and pointed, from where I stood I could see the fear in their eyes. I shook my head and waved to them, working hard to smile.

  I won’t leave like that ever again, I thought. It would take them a long time to trust me again, even though I had made headway with my father.

  As the twins covered the boat with routine ease, I made my way along the pier and down the dock to their boat. Sliding my hands in my pockets, I could feel the coldness of my fingers but still felt warm all throughout my body.

  “Hey,” I said coming up on them.

  “Hey,” they both grunted as they pulled the cover tight over the boat, and flashed me identical grins. How I had missed seeing those dimples.

  “Need a hand?” I asked and moved to help before they answered. The motions all came back quickly, my muscles remembering better than my brain, instinctively tying the knots just right.

  The job done, the boys grabbed their cargo and began to carry it to the awaiting truck. I snatched a heavy tool box before following them.

  “I see you didn’t catch anything today,” I said and shoved the tool box into the bed of the truck.

  “Yeah, we just took her out for a routine maintenance check.” Derek said and helped me push my box in farther. “We thought it was a good day for it.”

  I nodded and looked up at the falling snow flakes as my hood fell backward and allowed the cool air to shroud my ears.

  I jumped up into the bed of the truck, without their asking, and grabbed the cover for the bed. Already flecks of snow were falling on the black vinyl, little specks contrasting the darkness with a sharp white. Handing the cover to Sean, I saw the approval in his eyes as he watched me move. I guess I had been right earlier, I had been cooped up for too long.

  “What are you doing out so early?” Sean asked as he pulled the cover on tight, his twin holding the other sid
e so I could snap it into place.

  “Just went for a run,” I said and caught his curious look from the corner of my eye. “Great weather for it, huh?” I asked, feeling my sense of humor rising.

  He laughed, “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Are you headed back to the house?” I asked, somehow my legs had already recovered and I could feel the desire to get moving again.

  “Yep,” Derek said and slammed the bed of the truck shut. “Want a ride?”

  “No thanks,” I declined, “I’ll walk.”

  Sean looked to Derek, “I guess we can too, then.” His twin nodded and we all began to trudge down the street to the little pathway behind Darrow’s Catch. My legs shook as we began to climb the hill toward the house, but the feeling was both painful and wonderful at the same time.

  Up ahead we heard the sound of kids screaming playfully in the yard, beside me Sean and Derek began to walk faster. As if having one brain, they stopped just outside the edge of the trees near the house and began to make snow balls from the freshly fallen snow. A thrill of anticipation leaped through me and I bent down to help them, the need to be part of something other than sorrow spurred me on with a greater force than I thought imaginable.

  From our spot in the trees, I could see Dad and the kids playing out in the snow. Their shouts of laughter filled my ears and I watched as Aaron tried his best to pummel his father with meager snowballs that had been made in haste. Off to the side, Caitlin tried to help while Sara simply grabbed onto one of Dad’s legs and hung on for dear life as though she could keep him from escaping. Her little body wrapped up in her puffy jacket made the scene all the more comical and a hint of laughter passed through my lips.

  Gasping, I held a hand to my mouth and let the joy I was feeling spread to the tips of my body. It was like coming to life after being dead for so long and I rejoiced in the returning of myself. Snatching one of the snowballs from my elder brothers, I broke our cover and dashed across the pavement and threw the snowball with perfect accuracy. Its target took the snowball to the face with a surprised grin that turned into laughter, and Dad tried to shake the bits of snow from his whiskers.

  Without hesitation, Aaron changed targets and tried to throw his hastily-made ammunition at me, which I expertly ducked.

  “Wait Aaron!” I yelled, laughing, “We’re about to be attacked!”

  He paused mid-throw and right on cue, the twins burst out of the trees, their arms filled with snowballs. Caitlin and Sara squealed with delight as they saw the two familiar faces headed their way, but quickly retreated when one of the balls hit Caitlin in the chest.

  We dashed here and there, our bodies heaving as we made and threw snowballs at one another. One moment I was someone’s enemy, and the next I was their partner fighting off foes back to back, until Sean yelled, “Every man for himself!” He began running behind people to thrust snowballs down the backs of coats and warm sweaters.

  He tackled me by wrapping his arms around my legs and I came to an abrupt halt falling in the snow. I howled but to no avail, the cold snow was shoved under my fleece coat and against my skin. A loud squeal turned into laughter and I kicked away from him, only to be grabbed again. But I was saved by the raining balls of snow that came from the little fists of Sara and Caitlin, who upon realizing they were next, screamed and ran for the house, only to be cut off by the other evil twin.

  I laughed from my spot in the snow as I watched Derek pick one sister up in each arm and hold them out to the torment of Sean, as he threatened to push snow down their jackets. Their laughter resounded throughout the area.

  “Lissie!” I heard the little voice on my left and saw Jillian coming over the ledge with Emly in her arms, Justin and Kaleb toddling by her side.

  “Hey!” I said as the little body pushed his way through the snow and wrapped himself around my stomach. Almost slipping as I stood, I held Justin against my hip and let the closeness fill my heart with warmth. This, this is what I had been missing. It wasn’t the same type of love, but it was still love. Just having the chance to feel something was enough to make me forget, if only for a moment, what had happened.

  Turning to look at my family, I felt something I thought I had lost so many months ago. The night Emly was born was the night I realized I didn’t belong and I had left. But once I had found those who were like me, it had all been taken away and here I was again at home. Just as a wave breaks over the shore, I realized I had been wrong.

  Whipping the tears of joy from my eyes, I snuggled closer to Justin and kissed him on the cheek. It was here that I belonged, and I always would.

  6. Nightmare

  The joy of the winter’s day still pumped through my veins, but it faded into the background as every day cares pushed their way into focus. It wasn’t the pain of loss, but instead the acceptance of my family that made me face my past in a different light. As the days went by I reveled in my comfort at home, even though the aching desire for Patrick still filled my heart. And although I tried to fall asleep with a clear mind, there was nothing I could do about the nightmare that woke me each night.

  Even now the numbers on the horrid red clock glared at me from across the room. It was only one in the morning and though I had gone to bed early, I felt like I hadn’t slept for days. It was because of that dream. The dream of Patrick, and his desperate cries to find me. Cold sweat beaded on my brow and I couldn’t shake his voice from my head.

  It had been about a month since I returned to Coveside and though I worked most days, I was still left to face this nightmare each night. During those hours at work I didn’t have to think about anything as long as my hands were busy. As soon as I got home, however, I would hear his voice again and I struggled to stay aloof, but was beginning to fail. Sometimes I was afraid to go to sleep at night and hear his voice, which seemed to grow stronger each time. When would it stop?

  With a frustrated sigh I kicked off my covers and headed out my door. I knew where I was headed. The past few nights I had slept downstairs on the couch. Somehow it helped me fall back asleep, even if it was only to dream of that beach again.

  I threw my body down on the soft couch and pulled the wool blanket, which was always on its cushions, over my body. I slowly relaxed my muscles and tried to think of happy things, which took more control than it should.

  Finally my mind slipped away and I prepared myself for the nightmare that was to come…

  I woke up gasping, I would have thought that the dream’s strength would start to lose its power over me, but it was quite the opposite. His voice was getting louder and I grew more desperate. I had tried running toward the sound of him, but that only ended in me falling to the ground and I would wake up. I now just stood in my dream, I always tried to yell back to him, but no matter how loud I yelled, he never heard me.

  I rubbed my face with my cold fingers and sat up searching for a clock. I wondered how long I had been out and silently hoped it was near morning, but from the dark shadows outside, I could tell I hadn’t been asleep long.

  My eyes found the clock and I internally swore. It had only been an hour. Leaning back against the couch, I looked around the room and wondered what I could do to entertain myself. Slowly, my eyes roved around the room, grazing over the television and the bookcase against the wall, when they noticed a dark shadow pressed against the wall. I peered at, trying to decide what it was in the dim light coming through the windows, feeling as though it didn’t belong there.

  Quite suddenly, the shapes came together as the outline of a person. For one second I froze, and then jumped over the back of the couch quickly as though it could provide some barrier between us.

  “Who’s there?” I said frantically and cursed myself for leaving the dagger up in my room.

  “I came to talk to you.”

  I froze. I knew that throaty, hard voice but I had only heard it once before in a very similar shadowy situation. It was the Hyven soldier who had told me of Patrick’s death.

 
“What?” I said, not unaware I was holding my hands slightly in front of me as though they would provide protection. My sense were on full alert, if he was here, then Morven could be too.

  “I need answers.” The deep voice said through the shadows and the figure took a step forward, to which I stepped back. My eyes widened in disbelief. The shadowy figure that had stood in Hyvar was not the same one before me now. This person was huge; his size overwhelming. I looked at the incredibly broad shoulders, the thick chest, and long, muscular legs and tried to figure out how he had changed so much.

  “You are the same merman that I spoke to in Hyvar, right?” I asked, even though my voice shook.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh,” I said. My heart was thundering in my chest. It had to be the same merman, but his body was so large he rivaled Morven and Tunder in size. My mind grappled with his reason for coming. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why did you let me live?” he asked, his voice dipping low. I searched for the right words, unsure of his motives.

  “There was no reason too,” I said as calmly as I could, though my stomach was clenched in a knot and my hands shook. “You told us what we needed to know and we left.”

  There was silence and I could sense that he was searching my face. My heart still raced and I waited for him to move, but after what seemed hours, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Anything else?” I asked, hoping he would say something but he remained silent. For some reason the other part of me wanted him to talk. “Do you have any other questions?” I asked again, not sure if he had understood.

  “No,” he said, the simple word silencing any further thoughts I had about what he wanted to know.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind a thought took shape and I could feel the words forming on my dry tongue. Twice, I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Instead, I remained silent and counted my heartbeats as I waited for him to speak again.

  “Why do you live here?” he asked, the words pronounced carefully as though he had tested them in his mouth before giving them voice.