Chapter Four: Home Sweet Unknown
Somehow, I found myself wandering the fast-food smelling halls of the airport, my hand clasped around Ben’s. He stumbled along behind me while I robotically dragged him to the baggage claim. I stared off into the hazy distance, not really seeing anything. New Jersey, I fought against the haze long enough to remember. I’m in New Jersey. With Ben. And we’re meeting Aunt Maggie today.
I blinked thousands of times before finally returning to the present. Ben swung our entwined hands multiple times to ask me why we stopped. I merely shook my head, grabbing our bags. As we wheeled our suitcases towards the exit, a stout but young woman stepped into our path. Her poufy, mouse-colored hair was styled to stand up like a fresh-baked cake. A grim frown, similar to an upside down crescent moon, flipped at the sight of us. Her yellowish, cracked teeth lightly sparkled in the early morning light coming through the glass windows. Obviously, her Facebook profile was a hoax. There’s no way she was 40. She was probably closer to 60 or so.
In three surprisingly large strides, Aunt Maggie was out the door, pulling on my hand, and forcing me inside the car. I got in without a word, but Ben wouldn’t cooperate. He flung his arms around her neck, as she swung him around in a loving embrace. Okay, maybe 60 was pushing it. But there’s no way she’s 40.
His eyes sparkled-Dad nor Mom had ever done that before-as Maggie and I caught up.
“So, Lex,” Maggie started. “You uh got any friends that are going to visit you?”
I instantly thought of Harley; surely she would visit me, right?
“Well, yeah I think,” I told her. “My best friend Harley is studying in Trenton at the university for a couple days.”
Maggie nodded. “Have you decided where you will be attending next year?”
I shook my head. “It’s kind of hard to know at this point. Depending on where I’ll be living and who will take care of Ben, I’m thinking I’m going to need to be close to home.”
“Well, what if you stay with me and so does Ben?”
“Then perhaps I could attend the university. At least, for a little while. But of course I’d need to get a job to pay for the classes and possibly a scholarship…”
“Nonsense,” Maggie stated, the tires on the car screeching as we came to a stop in front of a roman style mansion. “I will pay your tuition, even if only for a semester.”
My jaw nearly dropped out of my skull. Holy crap! “No way,” I told her, getting out of the car. Again, my mouth opened at the sight before me.
Four tall, handcrafted pillars held the frame of the majestic building. The front porch-stood under a miniature roof the color of cream-had a withered rocking chair, filled to the top with needle-pointed pillows, all in the shapes of doves.
The grassy lawn gleamed with light dew that rolled off the blades. A small, white picket fence-like the type that less fortunate girls in chick flicks always dream of; “all I want is a nice home with a family, with a white picket fence surrounding everything”-that led to a magnificent garden lined with roses, daisies, tulips, and many other flowers. An oak tree, the same height as the house, stood almost in the very center of the inter-joined yard of the garden.
The young woman lightly punched my shoulder jokingly, saying, “Darlin’, are you just going to stand there all day? Please, come inside, unpack, and get settled.”
There was something about this woman I haven’t seen since I was six. Even with the help of my semi-vague “flashbacks” of her from when I was younger, I could automatically tell that she had changed over the past ten years. She spoke and acted in a way that put me on edge. She was perfect, almost too perfect. As if she were barely real, an illusion to some. She was friendly, welcoming, and as far as I could tell, very well-liked by her neighbors. Maggie was so unlike the woman I had been raised by, including my mother.
Sure, my mother was kind and was generally well liked, but that didn’t mean she was “the ideal mother” as many of her close friends often told me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother.
Loved, I corrected myself, as in past tense.
I got the feeling, the kind of uneasy feeling that you get in the very pit of your stomach when you feel exposed, that’s the way I was feeling right then. Maggie was rich, attractive (which obviously hasn’t attracted very many men, as far as I’m concerned), easy-going, and pretty smart (or dumb, in this scenario, seeing that she took me and Ben in, no questions asked. You have to be pretty dim to let two children that you barely know live with you until the eldest graduates.)
But seeing that I couldn’t do anything about my carnival ride paranoia feeling at the moment, I simply shrugged and tried to push my thoughts aside as I descended the smooth, wooden stairs. Kicking off my ragged Converse once I reached the top, I turned around to take in my surroundings.
To my right was the kitchen. It looked exactly like the one in that episode of Seinfeld when the room renovator screwed up Jerry’s order. The smooth cupboards held champagne glasses, as well as a few shot glasses. My eyes widened. Obviously, this woman was a drinker. And probably, most of her friends are too.
My feet took me through an indoor tunnel connected to the kitchen; at the end was a dining room. Well, it wasn’t what I would call a dining room but it had a marble table with a few leather chairs around it.
Another tunnel and I was in the living room. A long, leather couch sat in the center, with a coffee table filled with Home Living catalogs. Jesus, I thought, this woman is really into leather. A huge plasma screen TV took up most of the room, but then again it wasn’t a very large room.
I hesitantly sank into the cold couch, a soft brown blanket draped across. The inviting leather enclosed around me as I peacefully made myself comfortable. Footsteps, the soft click-clacking of heels-that reminded me strongly of my farewell with Harley-sounded throughout the long hall, but still my lids closed. I was fading fast. The footsteps seemed to slow, and the lower my lids drooped, the more distant the sound became. A door softly clicked shut, and I was gone.
♦ ♦ ♦
My breath swirled around me in a gray puff. Tall oak trees (man, there was a lot of them) flew by as my feet pounded on the earth floor. The sun was almost half hidden behind the rocky ledge that stood before me. Sunset. I pushed on, my heart racing like a horse in a derby. Within seconds, I found myself in a meadow, lit only by the glimmer of sunlight that still hung in the air. The grass blades curled over each other, concealing themselves, coiling around another as if they were snakes.
Looking around me, I noticed I wasn’t the only wanderer who happened to stumble upon the meadow. My meadow now. Deer stood huddled against one another, chewing the blades of the freshly grown grass. Twigs lied on the overgrowth below me, surrounding my feet. I carefully dodged a full set, only to step upon another that ended with a loud CRACCCKKK. A single buck, the leader I assumed, raised its ears in response to the noise. Gusts of air swirled out of its nostrils, the buck’s legs tensed for battle.
The buck stamped its hooves in a warning to the others. A swarm of deer erupted from all sides of the meadow, all trying to reach home as soon as their legs could carry them. But still, one was curious. My vampire senses instantly told me that this would be my only chance for fresh blood, my craving for the rest of eternity. I shrank back, envisioning the taste of the blood on my tongue. A part of me became impatient with the part that was afraid, and began screaming, it’s now or never! A vulture above my head seconded the motion, I assumed, that my mind was making. That’s all it took for me to let myself go. Can’t you just taste it, taste it evaporating within your mouth, gliding down your throat. And I was off.
The chase only lasted about a second; my new speed finally kicking into full gear. I wrapped my long arms around its neck, feeling the pulsing veins, and swung my legs over. The doe’s eyes widened, her expression wild. The balls of my feet found a hoof as I rode, and lashed out. She stumbled and fell to the ground. Quickly, in a single fluid motion, I lashed out once more with my claw-like nails, and scraped against it’s her velvety face. Now I could feel her heart stopped beating under my fingertips, her face torn and caked with blood. More blood spilled, and I-not wanting to waste such fine blood-hungrily bit in as the rest of the doe’s blood pulsed out of its head.
I rose from the ground in a swift motion, leaves gushing around me. The moon had risen, taking the place of the long ago setting sun, a light gloom hanging in the starlit sky. Blood stained my white teeth, trickling down illuminated face. I smiled to the trees, my eyes wild and uncontrolled. I lifted off and ran into the night.
“Aaaaggghhh,” the loud scream burst from my diaphragm, my bloodshot eyes wrenching themselves open.
“What happened,” my aunt came rushing out from the doorway to her room. Her cake-like hair was in rollers (hot ones!) and she wore only a long silky robe and slippers, the color of light pink. I would have gagged on the spot at the sight of her if it hadn’t been for the DREAM. Holy crap, thank the lord Jesus it was only a dream.
Rasping gasps poured out of my mouth; my breathing becoming rather shallow. Once again, I felt cold arms go around me, but this time it wasn’t Ben that the arms belonged to. Aunt Maggie sat perched on the arm of the couch, patting my back awkwardly, but still I felt a slight bit reassured.
I tentatively laid my head against her shoulder, trying to calm myself. Just a dream, I chanted, just a dream. Or was it? I shuddered, repulsed that I’d even thought that way for even a moment.
My aunt suddenly stood up, rousing my senses. “How ‘bout I make us some hot chocolate?”
I nodded. “Yes, please.” I only hoped that I could scarf it down without convulsing again. “That sounds great.” Little did I know that I was also answering the question in her aging eyes, do you want to talk?