Authors: Amanda McGee
“If she ever cried, I never saw it,” I said. “I knew it had to be painful but she never showed it. It’s easier in hindsight to see things a certain way but at the time I never saw blatant sadness from her.”
Talking about my mother
was easier than predicted. Perhaps my trouble in talking about her stemmed less from grief and more from not having the appropriate audience. With Sadie, the thoughts and memories rolled off my tongue as if I were reading them from a book.
Ahh, the book.
We had ignored the magical and potentially dangerous elephant in the room for as long as possible. I held up my index finger, signaling that I would return. My haste to recover the journal and discover Sadie’s reaction involved two very graceless stumbles up the stairs and one slide toward the front door.
“Open this,” I said, panting harder than I should have been.
Without hesitation she flipped it open to the first page. I held my breath, nervous for what was to come despite knowing the answer. I was dizzy, craving validation and oxygen. Just like when I opened it, the words revealed themselves page by page.
“Whoa, what is this?” she asked.
“Mom wrote in this journal up until the day she died,” I answered. “The words are visible if you or I open it. I tested it with my friend, Kate. She can see the words once they are there but I have to make them appear.”
“I guess this magic stuff isn’t so farfetched after all,” Sadie said with great conviction. “It’s fascinating, don’t you think? Not only do we have family but we have magic, too.”
Sadie never suffered a moment of doubt. Her belief in our supernatural tale was instantaneous.
Her optimism was contagious yet again. Although it was clear that we operated with opposite sides of our brains, her point of view was refreshing. My overdrawn, often cynical viewpoints rarely led to anything helpful or entertaining.
“I can’t imagine your reaction the first time you opened this,” she laughed.
“It was unexpected,” I said. “A lot to process. Thank God you showed up.”
The two of us giggled like it was something we had done our whole lives. I had worried our first meeting would be awkward; little did I know we would be immediate friends. Not since Kate had I bonded with someone instantly. I cared for Sadie a great deal already.
“Judging by the fact that you are here, I assume you aren’t concerned about ‘the danger’ either,” I said.
“What’s the deal with that anyway?” Sadie asked while flipping through the journal. “Danger! Danger! It keeps being said but no one can explain what it is.”
“From what I can figure, our powers are dangerous, like, not to us necessarily but maybe to others? Ohmygah, we’re gonna be accidental terrorists or something.”
“Wow, dramatic much? Take a look at this woman.”
Sadie had discovered a photograph tucked in the back pocket of the journal. The snapshot was old and tattered. The edges were worn and the rest was faded. Yet, the face of the woman was visible.
Her hair was long and black and pulled into a tight, yet stylish, ponytail. There was no smile on her face. There was no life in her eyes. Darkness was all that seeped through.
“She tried to steal my life, don’t let her steal yours,” Sadie read aloud from the back of the picture.
“Well, hello danger.”
“How did you miss this?” Sadie asked. “Wait, there’s more.”
Sadie reached back into the pocket and retrieved three more photographs. One photograph was of Sadie, aged ten, grinning as she displayed her ribbon for winning “Camper of the Summer.” The second photograph was of Blaze, aged eighteen, standing tall and stern in his dress blues. The last was of my Dad, smiling, holding Blaze with one arm and the other wrapped around my visibly pregnant mother.
“Man, blonde is popular in our genetic code,” Sadie said, noticing that everyone but Mom and I were blonde.
“That was probably the last time they were together,” I said.
“You mean…that y’all were together,” Sadie said. “There’s a little baby Alex cooking in that belly.”
“Sadie she’s not an oven,” I said, appreciating the humor. “Wait, I’ve seen him before. I’ve seen you before!”
“In pictures?”
“In a dream! What does this mean?”
“Adventure, baby!” Sadie shouted.
Regardless of the so-called danger that lurked, waited, or was no longer a threat at all, it was a small price to pay for what we would gain in the end. For once, I would not overanalyze. Sure, the situation warranted contemplation but to sacrifice the only relatives I had left was not an option.
I was no longer frightened or anxious. I had purpose. I had direction just by being unintentionally tangled in this bizarre situation. I had family and the potential to possess undisclosed magic abilities. Dangerous or not, this was the most interesting thing to happen to me..
.ever.
****
Chapter Five
The morning sun, hidden by the trees that surrounded us, had become a warm afternoon glow.
Sadie’s temperament was soothing, a possible antidote to my obsessive mind wanderings. No subject seemed in need of psychoanalyzing, yet all topics, big or small, vital or irrelevant, could be discussed without fear that my brain would journey off into the land of unnecessary ramblings. I was safe with her, able to be myself, or at least this new version I had become since her arrival. With a childlike aura and an enlightenment that extended well beyond her years, Sadie had enraptured me and for a piece of time I loved being lost.
“Shoot, the day sure got away from us, huh? I’m starved, how do you feel about Mexican food?”
“Oh, I feel great about it! Plus, you can give me a tour.”
Running inside for a quick change of clothes, I caught sight of myself in the mirror again. My skin was still pale and I was still thinner than usual. My hairstyle had improved. By improved, I mean clean and not in a ponytail. There was clarity in my eyes that I had never seen before. The bags hadn’t quite faded but the sadness that once dimmed them had begun to fade.
I suspected Sadie had something to do with that.
“Ready?” I said, catching myself off-guard with my happier-than-normal tone.
Sadie nodded with more animation than was required. Crossing her too-large bag over her chest, Sadie then slipped on her sunglasses and even bigger grin. I wondered if everything she owned was oversized or if she was just that tiny.
“Another beautiful day in Knox,” I said, gazing up at the sky. “I love days like this.”
“Uh, I’ve never been in a Jeep before,” Sadie said. “Is it safe to ride with no doors or...um...walls?”
My head whipped around expecting to see a less enthusiastic side of Sadie. Her words were spoken with a tinge of anxiety that had yet to be revealed but alas her demeanor remained unchanged. Sadie climbed into the passenger seat with ease, bouncing with anticipation.
The wind twirled our hair into frenzied disarray as we cruised into town. Through my favorite pair of five-dollar sunglasses, I watched Sadie attempt to enjoy my taste in music. According to her, she preferred “hippy-dippy, acoustic-y music.” I was not, and would probably never be, sure what that meant. I was sure, though, that I would hate it.
“How do you not know No Doubt?” I asked. “Everyone knows No Doubt.”
“I like their vibe,” she answered. “I’m not very hip, they sound hip.”
“Gwen Stefani?” I snorted. “Yeah, she’s about as ‘hip’ as they come.”
I was not ready to admit to my love of country music just yet. There was no sound more uplifting one minute and depression inducing the next like country music. Though I would not describe myself as outdoorsy or particularly southern in nature, my existence was a country-western song. Single mother, no father, orphaned, lost, cynical towards love, had big dreams but was afraid to stand out.
That is depressing
.
“I don’t picture you as a Jeep driving gal,” Sadie said. “No offense but this is a free-spirit, country girl vehicle and you don’t strike me as either.”
She wasn’t wrong. I chose this particular mode of transportation in an attempt to integrate a bit of adventure into my life. The majority of my days were spent studying and jogging every morning and afternoon. So a car that screamed fun and relaxation seemed like an illogical choice and that was my favorite part.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said. “I’m all about freedom and running around looking for something that I will probably run from when I find it.”
“Well, good thing you can run fast,” she laughed. Sadie lifted her arms out the top of the Jeep. The wind pushed her scrawny arms back but she resisted with little effort. “I wonder when we will meet Blaze? I’m excited to know what he’s like.”
My anticipation to meet Blaze resembled more of a nervous sensation. After the instant connection with Sadie I was optimistic, but then again, lightning never struck twice.
I tried to stay positive that he would find us. He could have been a million miles away, and with the fun facts we had learned over the past few days that could have been taken literally. All we could do was be patient. A virtue I, unlike this town, did not possess.
“If I can have your attention please,” I said. “We will now begin our tour. Welcome to Knox, Georgia. Population: 8,749. Home of really mediocre high school football, the Annual Seaboard Festival, and a hotel that is famous for having Tom Cruise stay in it.”
“Really? Tom Cruise?”
“When I was young he allegedly filmed a movie nearby. The story varies depending on your source but it’s safe to say he was in the vicinity.”
“Gosh,” Sadie gasped. “I can’t say I blame him. It’s beautiful here.”
Sadie’s attention became focused on the view outside the car.
Stone buildings lined the streets like they did in Paris, or so I imagined. The large glass windows in the front of every store illuminated each gray or beige structure, adding friendliness to an otherwise monotonous historical façade.
“Atlanta is so crowded and stuffy, this is much more my style.”
“We’ll go to Mike’s and sit on the patio. You can get a better feel for Knox there.”
A simple drive-thru of downtown would be sufficient but the outskirts required a more personal approach.
“Well, it’s not called Mike’s anymore,” I said, parking the car. “But life-long residents still call it that since it was Mike’s Seafood Shack for years.”
Near the beach there was a seafood restaurant on every corner so guacamole and quesadillas were a welcomed break. Plus, Mike’s patio area was right on the sidewalk and I wanted Sadie to take in the scenery.
“Despite living here my whole life I always find myself in awe.”
On the outskirts of downtown, the streets were lined with a picturesque rainbow of whimsical two-story structures. Every home boasted a different color, always bright and cheerful, yet each somehow managed to appear unique despite their structural similarities.
The sidewalks were brick-lain with strategically placed wooden benches and distinctive dark brown lampposts along the way.
“I always figured the sidewalks served a more aesthetic purpose since you can pretty much just walk into the street with little to no fear of danger.”
“Uh oh, danger!” Sadie chuckled.
Roads were never crowded and people never seemed to be in a hurry to meet deadlines or attend meetings. But, one should never be fooled by Knox’s small town appearance. There was no lack of modern amenities; they were just neatly wrapped in small town charm.
“How sweet,” Sadie said, noticing a family shuffling down the sidewalk. “How is this town not overrun with people? I know I’m sold, I would live here in a heartbeat.”
“Just lucky I guess,” I said. “That’s always been a fear of mine…that one day we would be discovered by the masses.”
College students and suburban families with their camera phones should have overrun Knox years ago but we managed to stay hidden away. I prayed that would never change and that the unwelcome trampling of unwanted guests would remain nothing more than a worry. However, the realist in me knew it was only a matter of time.
“This is how life should be,” I said. “A person deserves room to move, room to breathe. A home they feel safe in and proud of. I’m glad I get to share this with you.”
“It feels like I have always been here.”
“Speaking of, how long do you plan to stay?”
“As long as you and Mom-slash-Aunt Leah will let me.”
“You are welcome to never leave,” I said as the waiter refilled my drink.
The thought of having her go home was impossible to consider much less carry out. I cannot say if it was having a sister or having a sister like Sadie that made me feel as if a weight had been lifted. My broken heart had found a missing piece. And it only took eighteen years of suffering and few hours of conversation to repair it.
“We talked the afternoon away, too,” Sadie said. “I could sit here forever, just watching.”
We had found ourselves once again lost in conversation. Knox occupied the majority of our chatter, further proving that it was a storybook town.