Chapter 53: Red Feather. Earring of Gold.

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Chapter 53: Red Feather. Earring of Gold.

Wendy figured it out in the shower.

"Oh. Wendy." Closing her eyes, she murmured. "Of course."

Washing, drying, and dressing, Wendy donned John's pajamas and climbed into bed. Sitting quietly at the edge, she fingered the dreamcatcher. Her thumb grazed the willow hoop,  webbing, blue, pink, and white beads, and the single red feather.

"Of course." she repeated, rising from bed and walking to Jim's room. "Peter. Why didn't you tell me?"

The hallway was dim, save for the white light spilling beneath Jim's door. Wendy glance cautiously to Sarah's bedroom; Sarah had reprimanded her six ways to Sunday for breaking curfew. After a round of "I'm sorry's" she bade Wendy goodnight, and promised further discussion in the morning.

Wendy didn't blame Sarah. She was being a good mother, that was all. Wendy knew she would have acted similarly, and she was sure her own mother would have reacted much worse.

Carefully, Wendy raised a fist to Jim's door. She didn't want to provoke Sarah's anger. "Go straight to bed" meant 'go straight to bed,' – not 'go straight to bed after confronting Jim.' Sarah's orders were not designed for interpretation. 

Wendy knew she had best be quiet.

Softly Wendy knocked. There was no response.

"Jim?" she breathed, eyes on Sarah's bedroom.

Nothing. Wendy knocked again, just a little louder. "Jim?"

Again nothing.

Wendy bit her lip. Was he asleep?

She double-checked under the door. Yes. The light was on. Was Jim ignoring her? Or had he just forgotten to turn the light off?

Indecisively, Wendy turned the doorknob. After calling Jim's name without receiving a response, she slowly opened the door. Eyes averted (in case Ariel was inside) she slid through the crack.

"Jim? Jim are you..."

Again Jim did not answer, but Wendy heard rap music. The rapping was thin and distant, as if through headphones.

Wendy looked. Jim was lying in bed, feet at the head and head by the foot. Bulky headphones were blaring rap music into his ears. Wendy mused: No wonder he hadn't heard her.

It was impossible to tell if Jim was asleep or awake; a book covered his eyes, and an arm was slung over the book. Side-stepping for an improved view, Wendy silently read the title. 'Photoelectric Effect: Mechanics of Solar Suffering.' 

Reminiscently, Wendy smiled. He must have read that book a dozen times.

As she assessed Jim neither noticed or budged. He was stagnant, but Wendy read his body language clearly.

Rap music: he's frustrated.

Reading: he's trying to calm down.

Not reading: he can't.

Resisting the urge to comfort him, Wendy approached the bed. Gently touching his shoulder, she whispered.

"Jim – "

Jim jerked, inhaling sharply. Removing the book, he blinked groggily before focusing on Wendy.

"Wen." Jim lowered his headphones. He seemed surprised to see her. "Hey."

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