August (The Year of The Change Book 2) (2 page)

The morning of the last day of the year, which happened to be my sixteenth
birthday, Gram wanted to talk with me alone. Alone was difficult in our small house with the twins bounding in and out of every room, wanting to know everything that went on. Gram suggested we bundled up and go outside. I led her across our winter browned lawn, in Midwest City, Oklahoma, to the backyard where I’d sat two white plastic lawn chairs in the full sun away from the house.

Gram wouldn’t say it, but the real reason she didn’t want to talk inside, where we would’ve been warm, was because she didn’t want Sue, my stepmother, to hear our conversation. Gram had some big secret to tell me. Being Gram’s co-conspirator always made me feel special.

As she sat I pulled the other chair up close to her so I could hold her hand. We leaned into each other to keep warm in the weak sun. This close I could almost feel the love radiating from this special person.

She took a deep breath. “I didn’t have anyone to tell me this in time to help.  My father didn’t believe the family stories.  Superstitions and old wives tales he called them.”

Her sharp inner vision wandered away to a much earlier time. I knew that look well. Gram drifted there more and more since Gramps died two years ago. She was so lonely without her one and only companion. They had a true love that most people could only dream about. Her face saddened. I waited patiently, but my heart ached to take away her grief.

She cleared her throat and continued.
 
“Well now, there is a family story … perhaps it is better called a legend … that says ‘handed down through time are special gifts unique to each girl that succeeds. These gifts are handed down from eldest son to eldest daughter."

"
My grandmother told me the family legend began with three beautiful and righteous sisters.”

"Are they related to the Righteous Brothers?" I giggled, being a smart-alec, but Gram smiled anyway as I squeezed her shoulders.

"No, now listen." She frowned while she gathered her train of thought. “This is important.”

Each sister was kind and virtuous.

"Virtuous?"

"Yes, it means morally good."

I knew that, but didn't interrupt her to tell her I knew that.

An immortal was so impressed with the three sisters he looked into their souls where he found hidden talents. Because they were mortal these talents would never fully bloom. He wanted to give them a gift to show his love for them and the virtue they possessed.

She talked as though she were reciting a fairy tale.

"Is virtue another word for plain? You know …" I used my best nasal voice. "She has such a good personality."

Gram chuckled. "No, now would you please listen?"

"Okay."

"Where was I?"

"He wanted to give them a gift."

"Oh right."

One night as they lay sleeping, he touched each one with a spell that would awaken their talents. Because he so loved their kind and beautiful spirits he didn’t want to stop the music of their beating hearts for that would make them immortal. He thought and decided he would slow their hearts instead. This would cause them to live longer and allow the talents to bloom. He added just enough immortality for their hearing, eyesight, smell and strength to become 10 times stronger.

"Biologically speaking that's impossible."

"Sylvia Anne there is more to this world than what they teach you in Science class."

"I wouldn't say that to Mrs. Wells she would pitch a fit."

"I'm not going to say anything to Mrs. Wells. Can I go on?"

"Sure."

They arose and beheld the sunrise with new eyes. They looked about their gardens and saw the beautiful blossoms as though for the first time.

The first sister gasped and proclaimed how beautiful everything was. Her voice, sharper and clearer than they remembered, chimed melodically. The three listened and noticed the sound of the birds, so crisp and clear, as though the avian were sitting on the sister's shoulders and not in a far off tree.

The aroma of the flowers floated on the wind and the sisters delighted in the smell.

They were glorying in their new senses when the immortal came to call. He watched their joy and derived satisfaction in his handy work.

"Did they look any different? Did he make them beautiful?"

"No, they were already beautiful and that wasn't the point of his gift."

"Oh."

Gram shook her head. I might’ve been over doing the teasing a little, but I was too old for fairy tales.

The immortal told them what he had done. They were grateful to him for their gifts and knew this would mean they could do even more good. The sisters thanked him over and over again.

The third sister went into a deep thought, for a long moment.  When she looked up at the immortal she asked, “Will this be passed to our children? If they are not ready, they could do great harm.

"So the sisters were married?"

"No, why would you ask that?"

"You said they had children."

She frowned. "I did?"

"Yeah, the second sister was talking -"

"Third sister."

"Okay, the third sister was worried about their children."

"Oh, no she was worried about the children they hoped to have. Can I go on now?"

I had more questions, but figured they would keep. "Yes Gram, please continue."

The wise immortal looked at the third sister and saw one of her talents already blooming. He smiled, touched that this sister could have such forethought and love to look ahead to the next generations. He pondered and pondered until he came upon an idea.

“I will cause that the eldest child only will receive the gifts of strength, sight, hearing, smell and thought.”

The first sister worried that a male child might not be able to resist using his gifts for war.  The immortal chuckled and grinned as her words rang true.

"Yeah she sure got that one right."

Gram weakly smiled as she took a deep breath to continue.

After some thought he suggested, “Perhaps then these gifts would be passed down through the eldest son to his eldest daughter. The eldest son would merely pass on the gifts, but not partake of any of them.

I took a breath and opened my mouth to make a snide remark, but thought better of it.

Gram paused. "Yes, Sylvia?"

"Nothing, go ahead."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The second sister worried about how the daughter would know if she was worthy of the gifts.

“Ah … yes … how will she earn them?” The immortal had to make this good because the ill effects could cause serious problems for many generations.

He turned to the third sister and asked, “How old are you?”

She answered, “Seventeen.”

This answer surprised the immortal, for in those days a beautiful or even plain girl, would marry by fourteen, fifteen at the oldest.

"Fourteen? Boy I wish I lived then. Maybe even I would be married already." Plus, I wouldn’t have to live here anymore.

"Sylvia, you are a beautiful young woman, you would’ve been snatched up first."

"No, I wouldn't." I shook my head until Gram found my face and stopped me.

"Yes you would’ve. Now, no more arguing and listen, this is important."

"Okay."

She was wrong about my looks, but I would never tell her so. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t see what I really looked like.

He smiled, of course that would be the test. If she could reach her seventeenth
birthday still virtuous, then she would be strong enough to be changed and receive the gifts the three sisters received, as well as experience the awakening of her hidden talents.

“So, every other generation, the eldest daughter of the eldest son has a chance to prove herself worthy of the gifts.”  Gram concluded and paused for my reaction.

I didn’t know what to say. It was a nice fairy tale, but what did it have to do with me?

"What no twenty questions?"

“It’s a nice story.”

"Aren't you curious how this all connects to you?"

"The fairy tale connects to me?"

"The legend, and yes it does."

“What are you trying to tell me Gram?”

Gram produced her wrinkled smile, with that little dash of pixie that always made me wonder what else she had hidden up her sleeve.

She pointed at me. “You are the eldest daughter of the eldest son of the eldest daughter” She pointed to herself. “And so on and so on and so forth all the way back to the three sisters. It is your turn to earn the special gifts.”

I looked over my glasses at Gram and my mouth opened with a pop. "Huh?" I sat there in stunned silence.

Was Gram just telling a fairy tale and would she laugh when she knew she had me? Was she showing signs of senility? Or could this far-fetched tale be true?

“Gram you
can't
be serious?” The question came out sounding too condescending. I didn’t want her to think I thought she was lying. Gram never lies, but really …?

"I'm very serious."

Deep in the recesses of my mind where fantasy runs rampant there was a part of me that wanted to believe this incredible story and that somehow I really was special. Another part of me knew the story had to be a fairy tale, because there wasn’t an inch of me that was special.

Gram stiffened, perhaps not sure how to go on. She squeezed my tense hand with her aged fingers as she smiled up at me.

With a cock of her head she spoke. “I had my chance, but I didn’t make it. My father wouldn’t believe the family legend and forbid my grandmother from telling me what I needed to know to succeed. He didn't want my head filled with 'hog wash'. Grandmother watched out for me, but I was so overwhelmed by what happened, that when I met Gramps I failed. My father didn’t believe soon enough so he was too late to protect me when the time came. To be honest I didn't fully believe when Grandmother was finally allowed to tell me what was going on." She shook her head at the memory. "I want you to know what to expect so you can succeed. If you do make it, you will be the first in over a century to do so.”

"So you're telling me you and Gramps -?"

"It was the sixties -"

I quickly stopped her and threw my hands over my ears. "No! That's not information I want at this time."
At any time.

My mind took off in a whirl and none of the synapses were firing … backfiring maybe.

Gram? Serious?

I sat with my mouth open with nothing but a buzzing sound flapping around in my head. Slowly I heard a light footfall and then another coming from the far recesses of my skull. I think my brain had begun to creep back in.

I blinked.

I blinked again.

I was barely able to close my mouth as a flood of questions exploded into my brain at a force I couldn’t process.

“Wh ... what? …" What in the world was she really saying?

Gram merely sat quietly.

"H-h-how? …" How could this be?

She patted my hand.

"Wha-what?” If it were true what was I supposed to do about it?

Yep the brain connection to my lips was definitely intermittent. I couldn't get one full question verbalized.

Gram shifted and put her arm tenderly around my shoulders and smiled broadly. She must’ve thought I believed her. But I didn't believe her … I didn't think. Definitely couldn't think.

I curled up a little and put my head on her shoulder.  I wished to be eight and back in her rocking chair in Houston, Texas, where everything she said made perfect sense. Even if it hadn't made sense it would still have been the best place to be.

Everything and Nothing

The crisp night air ruffled through my hair as I looked out across the wide expanse that flowed away from the mountaintop where I stood. From my high vantage point the grandeur of the mountain range stood sentinel in every direction. The dark sky was clear of clouds. A lone eagle floated on the wind currents. In the distance a bank of clouds climbed forever and assembled over the purple western ridge. At first glance they looked harmless, but in the back the black broiling clouds gathered density. An angry zap in the atmosphere foretold of a tumultuous storm brewing.

Down the path I’d ascended, a horde of boys called my name as they climbed toward me. Their eyes were glazed and their mouths gaped open with silly smiles. They were
affected
, a sight I’d come to recognize and fear.

This was the worst year of my already pitiful existence. Because our family fairy tale had come to life I was going through a weird change that started last December, on my sixteenth birthday. I wouldn't be rid of the awful side effects until my next birthday which wasn't for five more months. Being sixteen and old enough to date, but unable to, was the pits. And get this, I can’t date because every boy who gets close to me loses his mind and thinks he’s in love with me. It was like being handed a million dollars and told to spend it on anything in the world I wanted, but not being allowed in any of the stores and having no internet connection.

The Affecteds were closer. Backing away from the trail, I looked around for an escape and found none. I walked the semicircle that made the top of the mountain. Back and forth, back and forth, nothing. The west side was a sheer drop into a darkening abyss. The distance alone made my head spin and I backed away, literally shaking in my boots … well, er …. slippers. On the north side, the overhanging cliff converged with a ragged peak shrouded in shadow. Only half as far down. Still, not an option. Maybe the east side would give me the escape I sought. No, only sharp pointed boulders like the maw of a giant beast.

With all the sides abrupt drop-offs, and my fear of heights, climbing down was out of the question. The only escape was blocked by all those affected guys. The muffled calls drew nearer. I was trapped and shivered in the cold night air which gusted with the wrathful, brewing storm.

Panicked, I looked again hoping I’d missed some small goat path. On the north side, away from the affected boys, a man stood alone at the bottom of the mountain, looking up at me. I couldn't see him clearly since he stood in the darkening shadows. As I studied his obscure features there was a crack of lightening that brightened his face for a second. He was handsome with short black hair and dark brooding eyes. I knew him, but I didn't.

The thunder boomed nearby. I looked up. The first of the raindrops hit my face. The storm swept in. The mountains all around were overwhelmed. Wind buffeted me from all sides as it swirled around the mountain top. Icy rain trickled down my back. From over my shoulder I saw the first of the male horde as a blonde head marched into view. Maybe the man knew a way down.

I searched the dark north side again. Who was that man? He was a word on the tip of my tongue I couldn't quite speak. Lightening lit the side of the mountain. The man was gone. In his place was a beautiful, large, white wolf. Its deep brown eyes looked balefully up at me. The handsome beast’s howl sent shivers down my spine.

The wind churned harder and blew hair into my eyes. The lightening crackled all around. My skin prickled. The storm frightened me. There had to be a way down from this great height. I didn't want to be up here when the boys and the storm collided.

I paced the crescent again. The south side definitely was the only way up or down. The Affected were at the summit. I needed to get down now, but couldn't find a way that wasn't blocked by adoring boys. The north side drew me. The wolf was gone. The man was back.

He held his arms out and yelled up to me. "Jump, I'll catch you!"

Was he crazy?! There was no way I was going to jump off a mountain. I didn't even like jumping off my bed.

The sky crackled with lightening, cloud to cloud.

His eyes beseeched me. "Trust me!" His voice and the storm thundered.

The sounds vibrated through me. I wanted to trust him. I was too afraid and trust wasn’t one of my strengths.

I looked over my shoulder, back to the only trail down. The boys gathered and the mob grew. The horde undulated as it watched me. One by one they stepped from the muttering mass. My own personal nightmare. There were hundreds of them calling my name. I knew I couldn't get past all of them. I was trapped like the lone survivor of a zombie movie.

Down below I heard the man call to me. "Sylvia, jump before it's too late! Trust me! I'll catch you!"

There was something about him that made me yearn to trust and jump fifteen stories to the bottom of the mountain. Deep inside a still small voice told me he was the one. My fear was my only obstacle.

A hand clamped on my shoulder. I turned with a start to see Calvin. His bright glazed eyes fixed on me and my knees weaken. I remembered the warm embrace we shared the day I left Oklahoma. Did his hair still smell like strawberries?

"Sylvia, I love you."

My heart melted into Calvin’s eyes. These were the words of my most pleasant of dreams.

Lightning struck nearby and I jumped.

Behind my childhood crush stood the Beck boys from Nebraska, and Rob from Oregon. What were they doing in Alaska? I thought I’d never see them again after my father took the stupid job in Talkeetna last month. Kevin, who had me convinced I should move to Nebraska, was tall and strong. Rob, who taught me to look past his bad boy exterior, frowned. His tattoo glowed on his bare chest. Drew stepped up beside them, but no one saw him. I didn’t know whether to smile or run.

Calvin wrapped both his arms around me. Rob pulled him off and knocked him to the ground. I wanted to kneel beside Calvin to make sure he was okay. Kevin wouldn't let me. He put me behind him as though the comparatively weak Calvin could get through them and hurt me. But it wasn't Calvin he was protecting me from.

When I looked up I screamed. Adrenalin coursed through my veins. The other boys -- many of whom I recognized – pushed forward. All tried to get to me. Rob and the Beck boys fought them off valiantly. Drew sneered and made snide remarks. There were too many. It was only a matter of time before the horde broke through. Donny, my best friend in Oklahoma, emerged from the crowd and fought to keep the others back. I should’ve known he, too, would show up to protect me.

In all the excitement and noise I heard the man. "Quick! Jump, Sylvia, jump!"

On my knees I crawled to the edge and looked over. The man still stood there with his arms held up to me. I could see no other way out of this and swallowed my fear.

Before I could jump, someone grabbed me around the waist. "
Mi bonita Chiquita
, I love you." It was Shalem.

Crete, Nebraska and the spicy aromas of the Mexican restaurant swam in my head. I yearned to give myself to him. Shalem bent to kiss me.

The man below growled. "Let go of her! Sylvia, jump!"

I struggled from Shalem's eager arms. No hesitation this time. As the cool air raced past, my scream was whipped from my throat. Above, the boys stared down, some reaching for me, though I was long gone.

Below, the man had disappeared. The wolf was back.

As I neared the bottom, where I supposed I would land on the canine, killing us both, the gigantic wolf opened its mouth, revealing huge razor sharp teeth. He was going to eat me!