Crimson Echo (5 page)

“The time isn’t right yet. She’s not ready.”
He answered mysteriously.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head and ignored my question.

             The car idled in my driveway, but he didn’t get out. He glared intently at the f
ront of my house. It made me nervous the way he could change from one mood to another so quickly.
It has to be the drugs,
I thought to myself again, remembering an earlier conversation I had with myself.
The silence was deafening. A feather dropping to the ground would have broken the sound barrier— it was too quiet, like the calm before the storm. I waited for it but it didn’t come.

“Do you want to come inside?” I asked cutting through the stillness.

“No, I can’t stay. I’ve got to get home.”

“Oh, okay.” I felt rejected. “
How will you get there?” I added remembering he had driven me.

“Don’
t worry about that, I have my ways.” He smiled and handed me the keys to my car.

             He pulled a shiny black cell phone from his pocket and waved at me as he walked to the end of the driveway. I waved back and started up the steps
to the porch. I paused on the top step and turned.

“You can come in and wait for your ri
de if you wan…”  I stopped myself as I stared at an empty driveway.

           
Kane was gone, vanished into thin air. He must have run back to the main road to catch his ride. I stood there on the porch frozen with confusion. Why couldn’t he have just waited inside? My parents aren’t that bad. It wasn’t like we were on a date or anything, they wouldn’t have grilled him. I shook it off when my mom opened the door.

“Tristan honey, get inside, it’s cold out here.” She
insisted.

           
I agreed and followed her to the kitchen where she had a cup of hot chocolate waiting. She flicked a handful of tiny marshmallows into my mug and handed it to me. She hummed along as she finished cleaning up the kitchen. She hates crumbs and she always seems to find them all over the counter, which irritates her. We moved to the couch and pulled a blanket over ourselves.

“
How was your day?” She immediately started in with the questions.

“
It was long and boring. I got lost three times.” I sighed louder than necessary.

Mom giggled and then rubbed my shoulder.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, baby. You couldn’t find your way out of a paper bag.”

“You should have seen Faith. S
he was dressed as a catholic school girl. Everyone stared at her.”

“That poor girl, h
er mother must have fits with her. I’m glad you don’t give me trouble like that. Surely Cynthia didn’t let her out of the house like that though?” She mumbled to herself.

“I don’t think so.
Oh by the way Mrs. Ragsdale still wants my English paper, she’s not giving us an extension.”

“What? That’s ridiculous
! Did you explain to her that it was in your locker?”

“I tried
, but she wouldn’t listen.” I shrugged.

“I’ll call your principal
first thing in the morning and see what I can do.”

“No mom, you don’t have to do that. I started re-writing it today. I’ve decided I don’t want any special treatment.”

“Are you sure?” Her eyes narrowed speculatively toward me.

I nodded my head.
“How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I think. I delivered the bouquets for the Silverman wedding today and
feng shuied the shop. It needed it. It felt stuffy.”

               
My mom opened up her flower shop six years ago, appropriately named The Purple Orchid. It was the only one in a fifty mile radius. Needless to say I spent a lot time in that shop. It was her baby and she was very proud of it and I was proud of her for branching out and trying something new.

          
Business had been great until recently, the economy took its toll—as it did with everyone and I could tell she was worried about making the rent on her little ‘nest egg,’ as she liked to call it. She would never let me know about her problems, but I could see it in her eyes when the monthly bills came in. I worried about her and my dad too.

“Did you stay for the wedding? I know you can’t resist a good cry-fest.” I joked.

“Watch it,” she warned playfully. “I only stayed long enough to see the bride walk down the aisle and then I left.”

“Sure you did.” I laughed.

            I fought against the urge to tell her every part of my day. The old woman, Kane, my returned memories, but I knew better— it would all be too much for her. My mom’s not as strong as I am. Her first instinct would be to panic and then send me to the nut house. I wouldn’t let that happen, so I would have to keep it locked inside the four walls of my mind.

She shrugged her shoulders and gave me a sideways smile. “I’m going to start supper
soon, you should probably get that essay finished before Mrs. Ragsdale has a stroke.”

          
          I nodded, giving her a smile and grabbed my bag from where I had left it at the door. I handed her my empty cup and made my way up the stairs to my room. I placed my book bag on the old antique secretary desk that I had inherited from my grandmother and pulled my books out.

           
The weather had me in a melancholy mood— I could see the sky turning gray and the mist rolling in from my bedroom window. I longed for summer— for the sun to kiss my skin, to lie in the grass and feel the blades curve around me, the pool parties with friends and the cookouts with my family. I’m always happier in the summer months— I think it has something to do with the vitamin D.

                I started on the essay
reluctantly, looking for any excuse to stop. My mom calls me her ‘little procrastinator,’ it’s true, I guess. I find myself waiting until the last minute to do most things. I had written a total of two lousy pages by the time mom called me down for dinner. That should be enough to suffice her and Mrs. Ragsdale, I thought to myself.

          
I marched down the stairs and helped take the garlic bread out of the oven and set the table as dad walked through the door. For as long as I can remember he’s always kicked his work boots off at the door, greeted my mom and I with a kiss on the forehead and then disappears to his room to shower and change for dinner. It was then that I noticed how fantastically repetitive and predictable my life was. It was also then when I realized I was horribly sick of the monotony of life here in Echo Oregon.

                Dad came down just as mom sat the dish of spaghetti on the table. We each helped ourselves and dug in.
Dad watched a ball game from the dining room and cheered when his favorite team hit a homerun. Mom didn’t approve of watching TV while we ate, but dad did it anyway.

“Kurt,” she said in an annoyed tone. “Today was Tristan’s first day at Emporia. Did you know that?”

“Sure, sure,” he answered, never looking away from the ball game.

“She
made friends with flying monkeys and robbed a bank on her way home.” She smiled at me.

“That’s great, I’m so proud of you…” He stopped himself. “She did what? Flying
monkeys in a bank? That’s ridiculous.”

              
I laughed at the bewildered look on his face. He shook his head in embarrassment and turned back to the television and his eyes returned to their normal size. I twirled a mouthful of noodles around my fork and ended up slinging tomato sauce in every direction. I caught myself repeatedly staring at the clock. I was uneasy. I couldn’t wait to go to bed. Tomorrow would come much quicker if I could get to sleep soon.

           
I knew why I wanted the time to pass so quickly, it was Kane. Instantaneously I rebuked those kinds of thoughts. Within minutes my attention refocused on him, recalling with perfect clarity the way his husky voice sounded, the way his teeth glinted in the sunlight when he smiled and the way he pushed his midnight hair back— almost as though it were a nervous habit.  

             That night, the night I had been yearning for since I walked through the door was in all reality a nightmare. Counting sheep was supposed to put you to sleep, weren’t they? That’s what my mother always said to do. The truth was, I was too restless to sleep— feverishly anticipating waking up to a new horizon. It was much too dark outside, too quite.

            Charcoal gray clouds lingered above the night sky, I took it as an omen— though I’m not superstitious by nature. Being around Faith as long as I had now, really put a warped spin on everything. She was always looking for signs in the air, in talismans, in nature and even in piles of trash. She thought she saw a message for her in every inconsequential object— now she had me seeing things that weren’t really there.

              The television in the living room
turned on and blared where my dad was. He stayed up late most nights watching the news then switched to late night talk shows, I’m a lot like him in that way— we’re both night owls. The audience on the TV laughed at some comedian they thought was funny and I contemplated joining him, but instead I tossed and turned most of the night. A little after three I buried my head under the heavy quilt and turned my IPod to shuffle and at last fell asleep.

                                                            Chapter Three

                                                             
  Adopted

            The sun cast a yellow beam across my bed and inevitably over my face. I blinked letting my eyes re-adjust to the brilliant stream of light that lit up the room. I realized then that it was morning. I jumped out of bed with a start. Adrenaline coursed through me, revving my heart. I was wound up immediately. I went through my usual morning routine, only
more rapidly then was normal. I brushed my teeth and straightened my hair simultaneously and took a fraction longer to dress. I took the stairs two at a time now, nearly incapacitating myself in the process. My father looked startled as he stared at me and then he smirked.

“So, what’s his name?” He peek
ed at me over his cup of coffee, giving me a knowing smile.

“
What? Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My lips pursed.

“Sure you don’
t. Believe it or not, I was your age once. If there is a boy, I want you to be very…careful.”

“Ugh, dad,” I groaned. “
There’s no boy, you have nothing to worry about.”

Just then my mom walked in carrying a basket full of clean clothes, ready to be folded. “What’s this I hear about a boy?” She asked, eyeing me.

“You didn’t hear anything about a boy, dad is just teasing me.”

“You know when your father and I
first started going steady…” I cut her off.

“I’ve got to get to school
— I think I’ll skip breakfast today. I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Well, have a good day sweetheart.” She smiled from the kitchen.

“You too,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.”

           
And then I made my way out into the freezing rain. Pulling my hood over my head I groaned in disappointment. Not rain. I hate the rain. My lilac sweater immediately turned dark purple as the rain bombarded me. I slumped into the Spider and turned the heat on, letting it dry out my top.

           
The wiper blades swiped quickly across the windshield and I squinted to see through the downpour. Cautiously, I drove down as many back roads as possible, avoiding the highway entirely until I reached Emporia. There weren’t many cars in the flooded parking lot, so I sat and waited until it began to fill up. 

            Two thing
s happened at once. One, the pelting rain diminished against the metal roof of my car. And two, a rainbow appeared like a mirage.
We have to endure the storm so we can enjoy the beauty of a rainbow
, I remembered my mom telling me once. It
was
beautiful, so vivid against the back drop of the gray sky. I hadn’t taken much time to stop and smell the proverbial flowers lately, but who does at my age?

           
All of this was forgotten as I watched Kane pull into his usual parking spot.  The black Range Rover seemed out of place here. Most of the cars in the lot belonging to the students who were originally from Emporia were tiny sports cars. Everything belonging to Echo High students was a jumbled assortment of previously owned lower end vehicles.