2 Deja Blue (2 page)

Jeremy grabbed my arm as we cautiously peered into the small, dark space. I
squinted
my eyes as they adjusted to the darkness, leaning forward for a better view and wishing there was a light in there. Well, nothing seemed to move. That was a good sign, right? It was completely quiet and still.
(Other than Jeremy breathing down my neck.)

“
Shoulda
brought a flashl
ight,
”
he whispered
, as he moved
closer
behind me and leaned forward, squinting into the dark closet.

“Well, at least nothing jumped out at us,” I nervously laughed. I slowly moved forward, putting my hands out to feel around the dark, small space. I felt them brush up against something. “Here, I think I’ve found something.” I groped around the object and instantly realized what it was. I wrapped my hand around it and tugged. It was heavy!

“Hang on,” I said as I blew a breath out, wrapped both hands around it
,
and heaved back with all my might.

I stumbled backward a bit into Jeremy while
pulling
the large, old brown leather suitcase out of the closet. Jeremy kind of tripped backwards with me as we came spilling out on
to
our butts into the bright light of my bedroom.

“A stinky
old suitcase?!
That’s
what was so secret and had to stay hidden under lock and key?” Jeremy shook his head as we sat back on our hands, staring at the ancient suitcase.

“A
heavy
, stinky old suitcase,
” I corrected him, blowing the wisps of hair out of my
eyes again
. I looked at the weathered suitcase and thought it must be about fifty years old.

“C’mon, help me lift it onto my bed,” I said, standing up and brushing my hands off on my cutoffs.  Jeremy stood and we both reached down to pick up the old suitcase.

“
Holy
MotherHUBBARD
!”
Jeremy gasped, “What the hell’s he got in here?
Rocks?”

“I have no idea, but we’re about to find out.”

We placed the heavy suitcase gently down onto my bed, and I began to fiddle with the clasp and buckles locking it shut. It kind of looked like an old-fashioned doctor’s medical bag, like the kind I saw on reruns of “
Little House on t
he Prairie
,” except this one was brown. I pressed my lips together
in concentration
,
as sweat continued to bead on my face
,
and
used my hands to pry the case
open
.
I fidgeted with the buckles and clasps, and finally managed to get it open.

“What the hell?!” exclaimed Jeremy as we looke
d into the musty old suitcase. We
couldn’t believe what we saw.

Chapter 2

Jerem
y and I stood over the ancient
case and stared inside it.
“Seriously?!!
ROCKS?!
There
are
rocks in there!” Jeremy shouted in annoyance throwing up his hands. He stomp
ed away from me in a tizzy. Oh
g
eesh
. I hope he wasn’t about to have another one of his temper tantrums. That boy could flip out worse than a Jersey housewife.

I shook my head, interrupting his
hissy fit before he went into full-blown freak-out mode.
“Wait a minute,
Jer
,
I don’t think they’re regular old rocks.” I picked up one of the heavy, jagged rocks. It was about the size of a small watermelon, and looked something like quartz. It glittered in the sunlight, and bluish-green chunks sparkled throughout the jagged, rough stone. The other rocks were slightly smaller, and some of them reflected different shades of sparkling coppers and
golds
. I inspected the one I held carefully as
I slowly turned it in my hands and continued,
“You know what I think this is?  I think it’s one of those Isle Royale Greenstones that Brennan told me about when
we
w
ere
in Traverse City at the Cherry Festival!”

Jeremy nodded, “Right, right…I remember. But that sucker’s huge! It’s
gotta
be wo
rth a small fortune! No wonder Brennan
wanted to keep it locked up. You had your very own
treasure tucked away in your room, Ruby!
Heyyy
!
Ruby.
Treasure.
Gemstones.
That’s funny. Get it?”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at Jeremy’s lame attempt at humor. Jeremy was
much
funnier when he wasn’t intending to be. “I wonder what we’re supposed to do with it now. How are these supposed to help us?”

He answered,
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough. We’re supposed to meet Anya and Brennan down by the lake in about an hour, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, might as well get
movin
’. We should split up the rocks into some backpacks so we can haul ‘
em
down to the beach. Do you think they are going to use these to solve your creepy-stalker problem?”

I sighed, “I don’t know, Jer.
Plus,
there’s the whole issue with Celestine.”

Jeremy nodded with sympathy.

The lake was only about a ten
minute walk from my house. Our little bungalow backed up to a large (
Fairy
-filled) forest, with a well-worn dirt path winding down to the lake.
Brennan had given us instructions
to get what was being kept hidden in my closet and meet
him
and
Anya
at our usual spot on the beach, near the old driftwood tree by the deserted lifeguard tower.
That’s all we knew.
  I grabbed two backpacks and we stuffed the rocks into the bags. I
thought back to how this whole mess started just over a month ago and how I came to meet Celestine, the
Mermaid
.

Yep. You heard me right, a
freakin
’
Mermaid
.

Chapter 3

This all started in July.
The second week of July, to be specific.
I was sitting next to my boyfriend, Nick
(a.k.a. Mr. Hotness)
in the backseat of his dad’s forest g
reen Ford Explorer while
his
parents chatted away in the front seat. Mr. Martino was about Nick’s height and build, but that’s where the resemblance between father and son ended.
Mr. Martino
had olive skin, dark hair graying at the temples, and thick black eyebrows that fr
amed his twinkling hazel eyes.
Mrs. Martino was a short, trim woman in her forties. I s
ee
her jogging around town in her running outfit almost every day. She ha
s
blonde hair and green eyes
,
and I could see where Nick got his gorgeous, golden looks. Not that his dad wasn’t okay-looking…for an old guy. He definitely had a charming way about him. He was always smiling and talking to all of the customers who came into their pizza place. It was hard not to like Mr. Martino.
I guess that’s where Nick gets his charm.

We were on our way to a destination even farther up north
than our home town
. We were headed to the C
herry Festival in Traverse City, Michigan.
It was only ab
out an hour drive from my town but,
Nick’s
family
had
a
tradition of staying at some fancy resort for a couple of nights during the festival. The Traverse City Cherry Festival attracts tons of tourists. The quaint, little town
features several streets lined with
boutiques,
pubs, galleries, restaurants,
coffee shops
and bakeries and sits right on the Grand Traverse Bay. The beautiful, sparkling blue water has shorelines of sandy beaches and dunes and opens into Lake Michigan.

I was actually a little shocked that my parents let me tag along with Nick and his family on this little get
-
a
-
way. After all, I was only 17, and a
girl
. My parents usually treat me like I
am
still six years old. But since Nick’s family owned the local pizza place in town and were pretty well-known and well-respected in our little community, my parents felt okay about me joining them on
this trip.

Nick and I had been dating ever since
June. He is 5’10”
of pure hotness. Shoulder-length golden blonde locks matched hi
s golden-tanned muscular frame.
He looked more like a cool Ca
lifornia surfer-dude than an up-
north hick-town kid from Michigan. His sparking, emerald green eyes lit up every time he showed off his dazzling smile. I couldn’t believe the hottest guy in our school actually liked
regular old
me. And the best part – he really was a
nice
guy. I had to pinch myself when he invited me to come along on his family’s annual trip to the Cherry Festival. As I sat in the backseat holding
his
hand, (with my freshly polished
purple
finger nails) staring out the window, I thought
back when
to
I first told my friend, Anya I was
going on this little excursion.

*******

“I still cannot believe it, Anya!” I exclaimed as I packed my duffel bag full of shorts, tank tops
,
swim
suits and Converse tennis shoes (m
y favorite footwear…I own them
in just about every color made
)
.
Anya sat daintily on the bed while I continued to shove clothes into the bag. Anya was beautiful. About five feet tall,
with
jet-black hair that curled ever so slightly around her face and shoulders, clear blue eyes and pale-white skin, she alwa
ys seem
s
to be glowing. She has
the poise and glamour of an old Hollywood movie star, even though she
’s
only eighteen years old. My mom always call
s
her an old soul
,
and my dad refer
s
to her as a Southern belle. They
have no clue
that
she’s
a
Fairy
…and a
Fairy
princess at that! Either way, she always seem
s
so much
more mature than any of the other kids
that
I kn
o
w.

“Aren’t those all going to wrinkle if you just stuff them in there like that?” Anya scrunched up her nose and eyed my bag with uncertainty.

“Eh,” I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s mostly denim cutoffs and cotton tank tops. I don’t care about my swimsuits. They don’t wrinkle, do they? Besides, I’ll make sure I put this sundress on top,
folded nicely
, so it
doesn’t
wrinkle.” Anya insisted
that
I take at least one sundress and a pair of nice flip flops in case we went somewhere
fancy
for dinner or something. I’m not really a dress-wearing kind of girl, but I gave in to her request since Nick’s parents would be with us, and I wanted to make a good impression.
I glanced at my hands…I’d have to make sure to polish up my finger nails right before we left too. I love nail polish. I have just about every shade that exists…between the polish, my Converse and my ice cream addi
c
tion, I found lots of things to spend my hard-earned money on.

“Well, I’m sure Brennan and I will run into you up there,” Anya winked. “We’ll be checking out the festival too, you know!” I smiled. Anya and Brennan always went to the Cherry Festival
.
She was excited because this year I would be there to
o, and she was going to get to
spy on me and my new boyfriend.
She loved having a front-row seat to the “dreamy-
googly
-eye-fest,” as she liked to tease.

And now, here I was, sitting
next to him in the backseat of
his parents’ car,
holding hands with Mr. Hotness
himself. I glanced over at his golden face
,
and he caught my eye. He smiled and squeezed my hand.
At least my
fingernails looked
cool
,
sport
ing
Purple Passion nail color
,
and
I returned his smile and sighed as I sunk back
into the seat
. I longed to lean against his shoulder, but with his parents in the front seat, holding hands was about all I could manage in the way of PDA.