CHAPTER THREE
Martie’s drive to Calgary the next day was excruciatingly long. Driving along a prairie highway, trying to make it as far as the horizon, felt like an unending task. The waves of distant mountains were beyond her destination, so they gave her no encouragement. No longer did she feel the optimism and adrenaline from when she first set out. She was discouraged and worried the entire trip might be for nothing. Her legs were constantly cramping, making for frequent stops to stretch.
She finally made it to the outskirts of the big city by mid-afternoon. She found a tourist info-center where she stopped for a bathroom break and to pick up a city map. The overly cheerful lady working at the center was very helpful, pointing out on the map where the street was that she needed to get to. Martie felt another setback when she realized Treeridge Lane was on the opposite side of the city from where she was. The lady noticed the disheartened look on her face and smiled happily, ready to help.
On the map she outlined two possible routes, each with a different colored highlighter. The first would take Martie directly through the city, which she explained would be the fastest way to go, provided there was no traffic congestion anywhere. The second route kept to the outer edges of the city, and though it would be much longer, Martie decided it was the best way to go. Not only did she feel intimidated driving in a big, busy unfamiliar city, she was suddenly in no hurry.
Martie had a big bag of sunflower seeds to keep her company and help pass the time. She nervously nibbled and spit out the window as she carefully followed streets and roads outlined in pink on the map. She was taking her time. Now that she was closing in on the address and the mysterious Larzel person, she needed to figure out what to say. She had to be prepared for anything, as she had no idea what she might find behind the door of this address. Larzel could be a hit man for the mob for all she knew. Although the day was warm, a shiver ran up her back and invaded her scalp.
Treeridge Lane was a pretty street. It had an old fashioned feel to it, with every flat-fronted two story house being identical other than the color. A porch spanned the entire width of the front of each house. There were huge shade trees sporadically placed, some with kids sitting in them, and some with kids swinging on a rope or tire attached to a branch. Children riding bikes and running through sprinklers gave the neighborhood the feel that it had been a great place to grow up for many years.
Martie found the number on a house that was painted dark blue, and she parked in front of it. She noticed her hands were slightly shaking so she took a few deep breaths to calm herself.
Clutching the note paper with the name and address on it tightly in her hand, she ascended the porch steps very slowly. She cleared her throat as she pushed the doorbell button. A few seconds later the sound of shoes clicking hard wood could be heard growing louder as they made their way toward the front door. It opened to reveal a very tall, scantily clad woman whose cleavage spilled about grotesquely right at Martie’s eye level.
She forced herself to look up and found a big fake smile planted behind bright pink lipstick. The woman tilted her head as if to say, "Well?"
"I'm sorry to bother you," Martie said shakily, "I'm hoping to speak to Larzel."
"Who?"
She looked down to the paper in her hands and then back up to the woman’s face. "Larzel. This is the address I have for him."
"I'm sorry," she said, "There is no one here by that name."
Not knowing what else to do, Martie held up the note paper for her to see. She peered at it quickly and shook her head. "Nope. Not here."
Martie was momentarily speechless. This couldn’t be it, she thought. It had never even occurred to her that Larzel might no longer be at this address. But who knew how long ago the name and address had been scribbled on the paper? She’d come all this way - scared and alone -she deserved some answers. She needed something to go on.
"What about before you moved in?" she asked. "Is this the name of the person who lived here before you?"
"Well I'd have no way of knowing that,” the painted lips snapped. She shrugged and looked past Martie.
Martie dropped her shoulders and looked to the ground. Unsure of what to say next, she glanced up at the woman with big eyes. Surely this person would have a suggestion of some kind for her. "Sorry," was all she said, and slowly closed the door, leaving Martie standing there feeling lost and alone.
She walked back to the car with her head hung in defeat. What a big fat waste of time that had been.
Martie sat in her car for the longest time. She was numb; dead inside. So much so that even tears would not come. She was a lost seventeen year old girl, without a father, without a mother, and nowhere to go.
She spent some time dazedly watching the neighborhood kids play. They all looked so happy and carefree. She imagined their mothers in their houses preparing supper while they watched their children through the kitchen window. Their lives were normal. She thought her life was normal too. So she grew up without a father - lots of people did. But other than that, everything was perfectly ordinary. She had been wrong. There was something truly unusual in her mother’s past, and for some reason that Martie couldn’t understand, she had chosen not to share it with her only child.
She picked up her phone and dialed her mother’s cell number. After two rings the annoying message chanted to her, “We are sorry. The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Please hang up and…”
“Argh!”
She phoned Fran. She could hear in her voice that she was both saddened and relieved by Martie’s bad news. Fran had been afraid of what she might find in this Larzel person. She instructed Martie to come home; that they would get it all sorted out and figure out what to do once she was back in Regina.
For some inexplicable reason though, Martie didn’t want to go home. She didn’t know a soul in Calgary and the city was just one big unfamiliar maze to her. But she felt a pull to stay there. She knew Fran was right, that she should return immediately. She thought perhaps her hesitation to return might be because going back meant having to face the truth - that she no longer had any family.
“Fran, I’m exhausted. I’m going to find a place to stay tonight and get some rest. I’ll head for home first thing in the morning, okay?”
“Okay. Be safe,” she said. “And please call if you need anything. Even if you just need someone to talk to.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Martie set the phone down on the passenger seat and leaned against the head rest. She wasn’t sure what to do next, or where to go. She closed her eyes and before she knew it she had dozed off.
It was only a quick nap, but it was long enough to dream about the boy again.
This time he was smiling fondly at her, his deep eyes burning with devotion, and without words was saying, “You’re not alone. Never alone.” He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head into his firm chest. She was aware that she was dreaming, but like in all her dreams of him, was unable to control any aspect of it. She couldn’t decide what would happen, or even what to say to him. It just happened like a scripted play. But she did wish that she would never wake up. She felt safe and comfortable there with him, with his arms wrapped tightly around her.
All too soon the dream was over. It was now late afternoon and Martie’s stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since that morning, so she drove away from Treeridge Lane in search of a fast food restaurant. What she needed was a large order of fries. Not only could she eat them for every meal, but they were like a comfort food for her, and at that moment she was in dire need of a good dose of comfort.
Martie was sitting against the far wall of the fast food burger joint and had just popped the last of her fries in her mouth. The loud cursing from her stomach had stopped and she was feeling a little better. As she sucked a large amount of Coke through her straw, her eyes strayed to the left, scanning the other people seated in the restaurant. She had the sensation that someone was watching her. Her search located t
he stare coming from a table on the far wall opposite her. Her lips immediately released the straw, her eyes widened in shock and her heart rose up to her throat.
There staring at her with a mirrored expression was the boy - the boy who had been in her dreams her entire life!
She blinked hard, scrunching up her face, and then looked again. She wondered if she was dreaming. But when she opened her eyes she found that he was still there. No, this was definitely not a dream. She sat there ogling, unable to tear her eyes away.
His elbows were propped on the table with both hands holding a burger as if ready to bite into it. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were incredulous.
Her body was no longer accepting signals from her brain, and though she didn’t want to, she smiled at him. She couldn’t help herself. It was an automatic reaction. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she quickly looked away. The rational side of her was screaming THIS IS JUST A COINCIDENCE. He’s not real. He’s a figment of your imagination. But, wow, he sure looked a lot like Dream Guy. No - exactly like him.
Now that her brain had resumed regular function, she decided that being alone in a big city, talking to strangers was definitely not a good idea - no matter how good looking the stranger was. She stood up and began gathering her garbage on the tray. It was best to just leave. She needed to find a place to stay and…
“Is it really you?” he asked quietly, like a whisper in her ear.
She turned her gaze back to where he was sitting. Her eyes grew round in surprise as she looked curiously at him way over on the other side of the room. How could she have heard that?
“It is you, isn’t it?” he said a little bit louder this time. He was looking right at her, but his mouth hadn’t moved.
She nodded before she could stop herself, again an automatic reaction. Unsure of how to react to the peculiar situation, Martie looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing the strange exchange between them. She was relieved to find all the other patrons seemed oblivious to it. His friend, sitting across from him, was looking back and forth between the two of them, and grinning like an idiot. She could imagine that he was rooting for his buddy to pick up the blonde chick across the room.
Feeling flustered, and not wanting to be part of some male ego contest, she threw her purse onto her shoulder, picked up her tray and walked to the garbage can. It couldn’t really be him anyway. This was just a huge coincidence. That’s all.
“Hi.” He was standing right beside her when he said it, and she jumped.
“Hi,” she said back, shyly. He had a goofy grin on his face and she could feel her cheeks warm with natural blush.
“Are you okay? You look a little stressed.”
“Um, well, I guess I am,” she squeaked as she emptied the contents of her tray into the garbage.
He was so close to her she could feel the warmth from his body radiating toward her. Suddenly feeling daring, she turned and looked carefully up at him. He was cute. No, gorgeous actually. He definitely looked identical to the boy from her imagination. The only difference was in her dreams everything was always a bit out of focus and slightly distorted. But she could see every little wave in this boy’s chestnut brown hair, and she could see how deep brown his eyes were. They were so dark, in fact, that it was hard to distinguish where his pupils ended and his irises began. She could see the light dusting of freckles that ran across the bridge of his nose and the small line that formed on the outer edge of his left cheek as he half smiled.
She swallowed, suddenly feeling weak in the knees. “Did you ask me something when you were sitting at your table?”
He nodded and his half smile grew to a full brilliant one. “I asked if it was really you.”
”What did you mean by that?”
Now it was his turn to study her face. She could barely breathe as his eyes methodically scanned. “You’re even prettier in real life,” he whispered as he reached out to gently touch the strand of hair that was sitting on her shoulder. Self-consciousness overtook her again as she remembered that she had recently been crying and that she hadn’t even brushed her hair since that morning. It was just her luck to be looking like crap at the very moment she meets the boy of her dreams.
She was having a hard time believing this was actually happening. He was gazing into her eyes so intensely that she could feel herself getting sucked into his beautiful, dreamy stare. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back, forcing him to drop his hand to his side. In her heart she wanted it to be him, but her common sense was winning the battle and telling her that she was being naïve - that this was real life and not a movie.
His face softened and she relaxed somewhat. “I know it’s you,” he said, his eyes burning into hers.
“How?”
“Because when I spoke to you, I didn’t say it out loud.” He searched her face for acknowledgement, but all she could manage was to bite her lip. Then he gave her the proof they both already knew to be true. “And when I asked if it was you, you nodded, so I know you heard me speak to you in your head.”
Something came alive inside her, fluttering and dancing every which way. He was right. She didn’t know what it all meant, but he was right. She smiled. He had always been a positive force in her dreams, so she needed to trust in that, and believe that he would be just as noble in real life. “Yes, it’s really me.”
He grabbed both her hands and his face lit up with a huge grin. “Just a minute okay? Don’t go anywhere.” He rushed off to the table his friend was at and said something quickly to him. Then he grabbed his untouched burger and drink and hurried back to Martie.
Taking her hand in his free hand, he said, “Let’s go,” and pulled her out to the parking lot. Her heart had transformed into a little bird fluttering lightly in her chest and her legs had turned to long shaky sticks. She wondered what was happening, how it was possible. She hoped she would soon find out.
In Martie’s car, he gave intermittent directions while eating his burger. Aside from that and exchanging first names, they didn’t talk. His name was Trew. She liked it. It seemed somehow appropriate.
Ten minutes later they pulled into a parking lot beside a large grassy field. The sun had gone down and only the dim light at the top of a pole illuminated a nearby playground. In the background was a large dark building that resembled a school. Trew confirmed this by telling her it was the school he had just graduated from.
They got out of the car and Martie took in the familiar scent of freshly mowed grass. Trew led her by the hand to the playground where they climbed to the top of the apparatus and sat down on the wooden platform with their legs hanging over the edge. They sat there silently, holding hands and trying to get a feel for each other, when Martie was hit by deja vu. She took in a sharp breath as it dawned on her that they were sitting just like they were in that dream she had of him. But her excited expression dropped when she remembered in the dream they were high up on a cliff and he had ended up getting pushed off.
They sat in silence for a long time, but surprisingly it didn’t feel awkward. They were totally at ease and comfortable with each other. Martie had so many questions her mind was whirling trying to figure out where to begin.
Finally she interrupted the quiet. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?” Trew asked, continuing to look straight ahead.
“You know - talk to me… without actually speaking.”
He turned to meet her eyes. “I just think about what I want to say and I think about wanting to say it to you, and it happens.”
She considered his response. “Can you do that with everyone?” she asked.
He chuckled softly. “No. Only with you.” His eyes glowed with warmth as he looked adoringly at her. With one look and one sentence he had made her feel so special. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when he told her, “You can do it too.”
“I can? How do you know?”
What he said next settled any doubt that Martie may have had that this was not real.
“Because that’s how you talk to me in my dreams.”
“Oh.” She was lost in his eyes, the intensity of them pulling her in deeper.
“But I have to admit,” he said, “Now that I’ve finally heard it, I really like the sound of your voice.”
Her face flushed soft pink, which caused him to squeeze her hand and laugh out loud. The sound of it sent trickles of joy up and down her torso. It has such a fun and friendly resonance to it.
“Let me try it,” she offered.
“Go for it.”
She continued to gaze at Trew, and in her mind said the first thing she thought of. “Do you always bring girls here?”
He laughed out loud again and responded without speaking, “No, you’re the first.”
Her jaw dropped. He was right. She could communicate with him through thought alone. Who knew this was even possible? “Oh I feel so special,” she teased without words.
“You are special. You’re literally the girl of my dreams.”
The next thing she knew he was leaning in for a kiss and she feared her erratically bouncing heart would give away her nervousness. She lifted her chin to meet his lips and they shared a small innocent first kiss. She found his lips to be soft and warm, and the feeling behind the kiss pure sincerity.
She’d had a number of crushes before and she had even kissed a few boys, but never had she felt as electrified as she did now. She stifled the urge to jump up and do a happy dance. Instead she returned her eyes to his and looked deeply. He was giving her that burning intense gaze again and she wondered if she could stay here like this forever. She wondered if this was what being in love felt like. It was odd, she’d only just met him and yet she had also known him all her life.
“So the dreams…” he said, “What do you think that’s all about?”
“I don’t know.” She tore her stare away from him to look out into the dark field and consider. “I think it means we’re connected somehow.”
“Connected? Like related?”
She shrugged. She wasn’t sure what she meant by connected, just that she felt they were.
“God I hope not,” he breathed, which was a relief because that’s exactly what she had been thinking. But she couldn’t help but wonder if they were related. However, there was such an instant and incredible mutual attraction between them. Surely they wouldn’t feel that if they were related, would they?
“When were you born?” she asked.
“November twelfth, 1994.”
She relayed her birthday as being June twenty-eighth, 1995, and they both quickly did the math in their heads.
“Well that rules out having the same mother,” he said, encouraged.
“Phew,” she laughed. Then the magical moment that was only Martie and Trew evaporated as she suddenly remembered why she was even in Calgary. Her mother was missing. And with the reminder of that, all the wonder and thrill of meeting the boy from her dreams vanished.
The disheartened look on her face wasn’t unnoticed by him and instantly his intense gaze returned. “Martie, what’s wrong?”
It wasn’t like her to share her problems or worries with people, especially to a boy she had just met, but he made her feel so at ease, so comfortable, and she instinctively felt she could trust him with anything.
She relayed everything to him: how her mother had disappeared on her birthday, about the secret money stash and the old sketch of her and about the name Larzel. She told him about how Fran said she couldn’t call the police on her mother’s orders, about driving all the way to Calgary by herself even though she was terrified. She told him how she showed up at the address on the paper just to find out that no one named Larzel lived there, about how it was all for nothing. By the time she was done there were tears dripping slowly down her cheeks.
Trew watched with that intense look in his eye the whole time. He squeezed her hand when she was finished, his eyes softened. “Well it wasn’t all for nothing,” he said. “We wouldn’t have found each other if you hadn’t come.”
His words made her pulse erratic and they forced an abrupt giggle from her mouth. The moisture dripping down her face doubled. They had turned into tears of joy. How could being around one certain person possibly feel so perfect and so right? She didn’t know, but she was glad they had found each other.
He reached his free hand up to her face and gently wiped away some tears with the back of his fingers. “Happy belated birthday,” he said.
“Thanks.”
He took a breath and stared out into the darkness.
After a while he looked back at her and said, “You know, it might be a long shot, but my dad’s girlfriend is a flight attendant. If your mom caught a plane, maybe…”
She was grateful that he wanted to help, but she shook her head. “No. The chances that she saw my mom are so small. I don’t even know if she went by plane anywhere, or if it would have been through Calgary.”
His shoulders dropped, but then perked right back up into place. “Well,” he offered, “You need a place to stay tonight while we figure out our next step in finding your mom.”
Our next step? She could barely believe what she was hearing. He really did want to help.
“So,” he continued, “Come and stay with my family tonight. And it can’t hurt to ask Brandi while we’re there.”
“Won’t your parents have a problem with you bringing a strange girl home for the night?”
He chuckled. “They won’t have a choice.”
“Okay,” she said nervously, not really sure about this idea.
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be okay,” he assured her.
As much as she wanted to find her mother, she also didn’t want the evening to end. She wished she could just sit here like this forever with him.
“Do you mind if we stay here for a little while longer?” she asked.
He squeezed her hand again and answered, “As long as you’d like.”
She smiled at him and then rested her head on his shoulder. He dropped his head to lean it on her head just like in her dream.
He spoke to her without words. “It’s just like sitting on that cliff in the dream.” Her breath caught as the realization of what he’d said gripped her. Not only did they dream about each other, but they dreamed the same dreams too.
Sketch of Secrets (The Garnet Trilogy - Book 1) Page 3
