CHAPTER 3
Sitting in the backseat of Grandma Bea’s car felt weird. Alina hardly knew her. The fact that her grandma had tried to kill her earlier also had a chilling effect. Though it had only been a test, visions of Grandma Bea aiming a sword at her refused to budge. As unassuming as her grandma looked, she had a feeling the woman could be frightening if need be.
Hopefully, Grandma Bea wouldn’t need to today. Just how awful was Uncle Raynor? The nervous chatter coming from the passenger seat made it clear her mom could not stand him.
Glancing to her right, she checked on her brother, Trace. His honey hair was still matted from sleep. Poor kid. He looked shell-shocked. Being woken up and told you’re going to see the uncle you never knew with the grandma you never knew could do that to a person.
“Hey,” she half-whispered to him. “Want to thumb wrestle?”
It sounded stupid but always worked. When Trace was little, she thought nothing of holding his hand or letting him sit on her lap when he needed a little extra reassurance, but the kid was twelve now. Hand-holding and lap-sitting went out a long time ago. So when she sensed he needed comfort, they thumb wrestled.
Trace slapped his palm to hers. He had quite a grip thanks to all his video gaming. “I don’t get what’s going on,” he whispered. “Do they think you’re some kind of superhero?”
“I don’t know. They haven’t told me much.”
“Well if you are a superhero, I want to be your sidekick. Not forever, of course. Once I get my black belt or powers of my own, I’m gonna do my own thing.”
“Understood. I’ll make sure to put a special release clause in your contract.”
He smiled. Good. What about her mom, though? Her voice sounded so strained as she spoke with Grandma Bea.
“If he says anything mean or condescending…”
“Then you’ll deal with it, Sharon.” Her grandma let out a sigh. “I know you two don’t get along but try for Alina’s sake. He’s the only one who can help her.”
“You mean the way he helped us before?” her mom said. “That didn’t end so well.”
“It wasn’t Raynor’s fault. He did everything he could.”
“And he failed. He can’t fail this time.”
“He won’t. He’s stronger. One of the strongest.”
“And meanest.”
“The two go hand in hand. You know that.”
Strong and mean? That didn’t bode well for Alina. She had always been nice -- maybe too nice. Perhaps that’s why she always stayed at the bottom of the social pyramid. Not that social standing mattered to her. She didn’t want to be mean.
Would she have to be mean?
Trace pressed down on her thumb. “Victory!” He leaned back in his seat. “So much for being a superhero, sis.”
That would suit her fine. Whipping the sword out of Grandma Bea’s hands had been cool. As for what her grandma and her mom were talking about now? It didn’t sound too appealing. It also didn’t sound like her. Danger wasn’t her middle name. It was Louise. She couldn’t help but feel this was all one big misunderstanding.
Settling back into her seat, she looked out the window. They had only been traveling fifteen minutes. Yet she didn’t recognize where they were at all. It looked nothing like Hopehill, Illinois. The covered bridge they went through just a few minutes beforehand -- the one that looked like a long, red barn? She’d never seen it before and it was way too long and dark for her to have forgotten it. The thick woods filling in most of the landscape made her wonder if they were near some sort of forest preserve. With all of the dizzying forks and crazy turn offs along the road, it was no wonder they’d never driven around there.
As for the houses, themselves, they were too far apart to be considered a neighborhood. Big but unkempt, it looked as if no one lived in them at all. The lawns weren’t mowed. There were even rusty junk piles in the yards. Take the house coming up on the left-hand side, was that a broken down horse carriage by the garage? The whole place needed a major paint job. It looked brown, not…whatever color it was supposed to be. As for those shutters on the third story? They would look a lot better if half of them weren’t hanging askew. Thank goodness they weren’t stopping there.
The car slowed down. Oh, man. They were stopping there. How great.
Pebbles crunched beneath their tires as they drove onto the driveway. Grandma Bea parked the car. As if on cue, a gray emu came out from behind the house, loping forward on long, skinny legs. It had crazy red eyes straight out of a horror film and was heading straight toward them.
“Do I have to go in?” Trace asked, wide-eyed.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Grandma Bea said. “That’s Eloise. She just wants you to pet her.”
“And I just want to go home.”
“Come on, Trace,” her mom said. “We have to stick together. Grandma Bea’s right. Eloise is harmless.”
Eloise was also six feet tall with eyes like the devil. Harmless? Maybe. Freaky? Absolutely. Alina would have preferred to stay in the car, too, but she couldn’t. They had come here because of her. She had to put on her brave face.
“Let’s go, Trace. Bet I can pet it first.”
Trace broke into a smile. “You’re on!”
Scrambling out of the car, she watched as her brother trotted over to the animal. He stroked its back. Grandma Bea was right. The bird was harmless, plus it seemed to have a crush on Trace by the way it was nuzzling his neck. Walking over to the emu she petted it, too. It was funny how some things looked scary but ended up being okay. Perhaps the same would be true of the house, as well as her Uncle Raynor.
Grandma Bea called them over to the side of the driveway. Wait a minute. Where did her sedan go?
“Grandma, where’s your car?”
“It’s here.” Her grandma said, nonchalantly. “It has a cloaking device. The covered bridge triggered it. You can’t see it if you’re more than thirty feet away.”
But, of course. What a simple explanation from a woman who’s just recently pulled a five foot sword from her purse.
Grandma Bea led the way toward the house’s front door. There didn’t seem to be a walkway, just an occasional flat stone that broke up the nine inch high grass. Once the four of them made it to the stoop, her grandma rang the door bell. Surprisingly, it worked. Instead of going ding dong it chimed like a grandfather clock. Pretty classy. If the double doors hadn’t been rotting at the hinges she might have even been impressed.
They stood there and waited for a couple of minutes but no one came to the door. Grandma Bea rang again. “Come on, Raynor. It’s us.”
Still nothing. Then a full minute later she heard the click of a dead bolt at the door. Make that five deadbolts. Alina took a step back right as the door creaked opened.
If a hobo ever fell into a vat of growth hormones, Alina now knew what he’d look like. The man at the door was gigantic -- at least 6’8” -- with scraggly brown hair. He had a beard like steel wool and a body as wide as a raft. He also had no fashion sense. His eyes, though? They took her breath away. A deep blue, they were as brilliant as sapphires. Only these sapphires glowed, plus they seemed to have a red tinge around the irises. She had never seen anything like them -- anything like him. He terrified her.
Heart racing, she watched as he gave everyone the once over. She feared meeting his gaze. Passing over her grandma quickly, he moved past her mom with a sneer, then eyed Trace curiously. He didn’t look long. Before she knew it, his eyes shifted to her. Her knees almost buckled as he studied her top to bottom. If looks could burn, she’d have been crispy. She had no idea what to do or say so she chose to stay silent. Moving closer, he stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity.
When she didn’t think she could take it any more, he stopped and took a small step back. Alina held her breath. What would her uncle say? What would he do next?
She got her answer quickly. Raynor took another two steps back and re-entered his house. Then he turned to Grandma Bea, spat out, “No!” and slammed the door in their faces.
(Go back to Chapter 2)
(Wait. That's it?! Get me back to the main page with links to where to buy this. I have to have it!!)
Hopefully, Grandma Bea wouldn’t need to today. Just how awful was Uncle Raynor? The nervous chatter coming from the passenger seat made it clear her mom could not stand him.
Glancing to her right, she checked on her brother, Trace. His honey hair was still matted from sleep. Poor kid. He looked shell-shocked. Being woken up and told you’re going to see the uncle you never knew with the grandma you never knew could do that to a person.
“Hey,” she half-whispered to him. “Want to thumb wrestle?”
It sounded stupid but always worked. When Trace was little, she thought nothing of holding his hand or letting him sit on her lap when he needed a little extra reassurance, but the kid was twelve now. Hand-holding and lap-sitting went out a long time ago. So when she sensed he needed comfort, they thumb wrestled.
Trace slapped his palm to hers. He had quite a grip thanks to all his video gaming. “I don’t get what’s going on,” he whispered. “Do they think you’re some kind of superhero?”
“I don’t know. They haven’t told me much.”
“Well if you are a superhero, I want to be your sidekick. Not forever, of course. Once I get my black belt or powers of my own, I’m gonna do my own thing.”
“Understood. I’ll make sure to put a special release clause in your contract.”
He smiled. Good. What about her mom, though? Her voice sounded so strained as she spoke with Grandma Bea.
“If he says anything mean or condescending…”
“Then you’ll deal with it, Sharon.” Her grandma let out a sigh. “I know you two don’t get along but try for Alina’s sake. He’s the only one who can help her.”
“You mean the way he helped us before?” her mom said. “That didn’t end so well.”
“It wasn’t Raynor’s fault. He did everything he could.”
“And he failed. He can’t fail this time.”
“He won’t. He’s stronger. One of the strongest.”
“And meanest.”
“The two go hand in hand. You know that.”
Strong and mean? That didn’t bode well for Alina. She had always been nice -- maybe too nice. Perhaps that’s why she always stayed at the bottom of the social pyramid. Not that social standing mattered to her. She didn’t want to be mean.
Would she have to be mean?
Trace pressed down on her thumb. “Victory!” He leaned back in his seat. “So much for being a superhero, sis.”
That would suit her fine. Whipping the sword out of Grandma Bea’s hands had been cool. As for what her grandma and her mom were talking about now? It didn’t sound too appealing. It also didn’t sound like her. Danger wasn’t her middle name. It was Louise. She couldn’t help but feel this was all one big misunderstanding.
Settling back into her seat, she looked out the window. They had only been traveling fifteen minutes. Yet she didn’t recognize where they were at all. It looked nothing like Hopehill, Illinois. The covered bridge they went through just a few minutes beforehand -- the one that looked like a long, red barn? She’d never seen it before and it was way too long and dark for her to have forgotten it. The thick woods filling in most of the landscape made her wonder if they were near some sort of forest preserve. With all of the dizzying forks and crazy turn offs along the road, it was no wonder they’d never driven around there.
As for the houses, themselves, they were too far apart to be considered a neighborhood. Big but unkempt, it looked as if no one lived in them at all. The lawns weren’t mowed. There were even rusty junk piles in the yards. Take the house coming up on the left-hand side, was that a broken down horse carriage by the garage? The whole place needed a major paint job. It looked brown, not…whatever color it was supposed to be. As for those shutters on the third story? They would look a lot better if half of them weren’t hanging askew. Thank goodness they weren’t stopping there.
The car slowed down. Oh, man. They were stopping there. How great.
Pebbles crunched beneath their tires as they drove onto the driveway. Grandma Bea parked the car. As if on cue, a gray emu came out from behind the house, loping forward on long, skinny legs. It had crazy red eyes straight out of a horror film and was heading straight toward them.
“Do I have to go in?” Trace asked, wide-eyed.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Grandma Bea said. “That’s Eloise. She just wants you to pet her.”
“And I just want to go home.”
“Come on, Trace,” her mom said. “We have to stick together. Grandma Bea’s right. Eloise is harmless.”
Eloise was also six feet tall with eyes like the devil. Harmless? Maybe. Freaky? Absolutely. Alina would have preferred to stay in the car, too, but she couldn’t. They had come here because of her. She had to put on her brave face.
“Let’s go, Trace. Bet I can pet it first.”
Trace broke into a smile. “You’re on!”
Scrambling out of the car, she watched as her brother trotted over to the animal. He stroked its back. Grandma Bea was right. The bird was harmless, plus it seemed to have a crush on Trace by the way it was nuzzling his neck. Walking over to the emu she petted it, too. It was funny how some things looked scary but ended up being okay. Perhaps the same would be true of the house, as well as her Uncle Raynor.
Grandma Bea called them over to the side of the driveway. Wait a minute. Where did her sedan go?
“Grandma, where’s your car?”
“It’s here.” Her grandma said, nonchalantly. “It has a cloaking device. The covered bridge triggered it. You can’t see it if you’re more than thirty feet away.”
But, of course. What a simple explanation from a woman who’s just recently pulled a five foot sword from her purse.
Grandma Bea led the way toward the house’s front door. There didn’t seem to be a walkway, just an occasional flat stone that broke up the nine inch high grass. Once the four of them made it to the stoop, her grandma rang the door bell. Surprisingly, it worked. Instead of going ding dong it chimed like a grandfather clock. Pretty classy. If the double doors hadn’t been rotting at the hinges she might have even been impressed.
They stood there and waited for a couple of minutes but no one came to the door. Grandma Bea rang again. “Come on, Raynor. It’s us.”
Still nothing. Then a full minute later she heard the click of a dead bolt at the door. Make that five deadbolts. Alina took a step back right as the door creaked opened.
If a hobo ever fell into a vat of growth hormones, Alina now knew what he’d look like. The man at the door was gigantic -- at least 6’8” -- with scraggly brown hair. He had a beard like steel wool and a body as wide as a raft. He also had no fashion sense. His eyes, though? They took her breath away. A deep blue, they were as brilliant as sapphires. Only these sapphires glowed, plus they seemed to have a red tinge around the irises. She had never seen anything like them -- anything like him. He terrified her.
Heart racing, she watched as he gave everyone the once over. She feared meeting his gaze. Passing over her grandma quickly, he moved past her mom with a sneer, then eyed Trace curiously. He didn’t look long. Before she knew it, his eyes shifted to her. Her knees almost buckled as he studied her top to bottom. If looks could burn, she’d have been crispy. She had no idea what to do or say so she chose to stay silent. Moving closer, he stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity.
When she didn’t think she could take it any more, he stopped and took a small step back. Alina held her breath. What would her uncle say? What would he do next?
She got her answer quickly. Raynor took another two steps back and re-entered his house. Then he turned to Grandma Bea, spat out, “No!” and slammed the door in their faces.
(Go back to Chapter 2)
(Wait. That's it?! Get me back to the main page with links to where to buy this. I have to have it!!)
