UNHEEDED: Undone Realms Book 2

Ch. 4 - The Days of Unbroken Sky

Oliver should be sleeping.  It's the middle of the night, and come dawn he'll be expected back at the orchard to relive yesterday all over again.  Each night, he sleeps through the dread of that repetition, letting his dreams handle the dismay his waking mind cannot.  Now though, he feels anticipation rather than dread, and this keeps him awake.  Maybe tomorrow will be like the day before. That's what he wants (though he has never wanted such a thing before) because if it is like the day before, it means he'll get to see Avie again.

What is it about this girl?  She can't be older than thirteen or fourteen, yet she's so much more grown up acting than he is... so sophisticated.  She must be from a big city, he thinks. 

That's it.  That's why she seems so out-of-place here.  Oliver has never met anyone from a big city before.

Oliver turns on his side, trying to wriggle into a cool spot on the mess of blankets underneath him.  His little sister Marylou sighs gently in her sleep, stretches, and then flops her arm down on top of his shoulder.  He'll never get comfortable with the weight of her arm across his own, but he doesn't move her.  Marylou works the fields as well, and she's only ten.  He won't do anything that might disturb her.

The air in his family's tent is close with a smell of cooked onions.  Too many sweaty bodies crammed into far too small of a space.  This government-issued shelter is far better than what they had before, though—just some random rags and a few sheets of rotting board slapped together into a portable hovel.  Everything at this camp is better in a marginal kind of way.  The latrines are kept up, and so are the people.  The blankets given to them by the camp attendants are scratchy but clean and are most welcome on some of the colder nights.  

From the cot just above Oliver's head, Raymond lets out a sharp snort.  Oliver's eyes fly open.  His last thought before drifting off had been that he couldn't sleep, but now that he's truly awake his mind has become dreamlike.  His imaginings fill the dark tent with apple blossoms and spikey blue hair.

This is what Avie has done to him.  After she disappears her hold on him only grows.  That night as families gather to cook their dinners and eat at the communal tables set up in a long row between a stretch of uniformly-placed tents, Oliver asks several people if they'd seen her.  Everyone shakes their heads.  Mrs. Miller raises her eyebrows as Oliver describes Avie's shiny jacket; he's careful to describe the lavender fading to white, white shimmering into a silver that mirrors the sun.  When he finishes, she shakes her head and laughs.

"Ain't no clothing on Earth like that, son."  Her eyes narrow.  "You ain't the only one who starts to see funny things when they been out in the fields too long.  Just pay it no mind."

Oliver can't do that, of course.  He knows Avie isn't the product of a fatigued mind.  She said she'd come back.  When she does, he'll prove to the whole camp that he didn't make her up. 

Oliver finally falls asleep with thoughts of the sun reflected like a kaleidoscope on the broken surface of a lake.

He searches the orchard for Avie the next day, then the day after that.  He walks down extra rows with his heavy burden hoping that she'll appear in front of him just like she did before.  He looks for a flash of silver light on the crest of the hill.  There is nothing to see but an unbroken line where the crowns of trees meet the never-ending sky.

The days pass.  Soon there are no more apples to pick.  His family packs their belongings into the back of a work truck.  They're heading south for the next harvest.  Oliver's mother tucks him to her side as they squat amongst their bundles of clothes.  He knows he is getting too old for such an embrace.  Normally, he would resist it, but not today.  She knows there's something bothering him and while he hasn't told her what it is exactly, she doesn't prod him for information.  There's comfort in her wordless desire to heal all of his pains.

As the truck rolls out of camp, his mother grasps his hand as well as Marylou's.  She says a prayer for the next year's apple harvest.  She asks that the souls of her loved ones be kept. 

Oliver huddles against her and squeezes her hand, but his thoughts are on the horizon rather than her words. He squints his eyes at the never-ending sky under which the whole world lives and dies.  

He decides then to follow Mrs. Miller's advice.  Avie is just one more thing he will have to leave behind in a life where the left-behinds comprise just about everything. 

The less he thinks of her the better.

A/N: Oh no! It looks like Oliver has left the orchard without seeing Avie again. Is this it for them? Do you think he really will follow Mrs. Miller's advice and forget about her?

A big thank you to everyone who is following along with the story so far. It's been wonderful to read all of your comments.  The interactions I get to have with readers really is one of the best things about Wattpad!

Two of this week's dedications are for readers who answered a question I sent out a while back in which I asked people to speculate about the direction Unseen's sequels would take (last week's dedications were also for people who answered this question). First up is  @Jane_Conquest.  It's been a pleasure to get to know Jane as a reader. I often tell people that if you want to be a good writer, be a good reader. Well, Jane is an excellent reader and I have no doubt this contributes immensely to her writing skills!  In fact, I know it does: Jane's entry won runner-up in my October Unseen Flash Fiction contest (link in the comments).