Read The Moonstone (Enchantment Book 1) Online
Authors: Evelyne Contant
The Moonstone (Enchantment Book 1) (2 page)
A racket on the main floor wakes me from my short night sleep. They’re early birds this morning, seven o’clock! I would have liked to sleep in on my first morning of vacation. Two weeks! Two weeks alone at home. My parents are leaving for an Alaskan cruise. I know… why are they going in the middle of summer? But they’re like that, always going counter-current and that’s why I love them so much. I hurriedly put on my favorite worn jeans- what’s better for feeling relaxed than a pair of worn jeans- and my “God’s girl” sweatshirt. I had this shirt made to order on a mythological fan site; it’s my geeky side.
To tame my rebellious locks I tie up my hair in a loose bun before going downstairs. When I was little, my father used to call it my lion’s mane and I always shot back that lions have red manes, not blond. That always made him laugh and then he would say I was too clever for him. He would laugh and tap me on the head; his smile always made me feel better, no matter the situation…
I am ready to go down and join them, but it feels like I’m forgetting something. I turn around and see Nyx sitting on the window ledge, ready to head out on other adventures. I love to imagine that she goes far from here, into her own imaginary realm. Queen Nyx, that name suits her well. I certainly don’t want my mother to find her, so I better open the window quickly. Nyx doesn’t need to be asked twice and is down the tree in a flash, disappearing into the nearby forest. As I go down I can hear my parents fighting. They’re not doing it out of malice; they just love to argue about everything and nothing. What could be the subject this morning?
“Sweetheart, how are you going to take a break from work if you bring your cellphone with you on vacation, not to mention it’ll cost you a fortune in roaming charges,” says my father while wrapping his arms around her.
“Marc, I’m all for putting my work aside, but what if Lou needs to reach us?” she answers, a cup of coffee in her hand.
“I’m here, mom, I can hear you…don’t worry about me, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I am an adult after all! You’re going to have to cut the cord eventually!”
“You see, Lise, she can take care of herself. Leave your cellphone at home, it’s non-negotiable,” he orders, tickling my mother until she spills half her coffee on the parquet flooring.
“Fine, you both win, but Lou, promise me that you will keep your cellphone with you just in case I want to reach you, and Marc, let me go, I need to go and finish my packing. The taxi will be here in five minutes”. She bends down to clean up the mess, and even that she manages to do gracefully. Honestly, who else can brag about being elegant wiping up coffee in the morning? Even in her bathrobe she manages to be completely chic…I love to watch her do her thing. She kisses me on the cheek and goes upstairs to finish getting ready.
My father sits down at the table in front of me and with a wicked grin, whispers: “You know she can’t live without me. By the way, I left a debit card for you in the desk drawer of the front hallway. You can use it for emergencies, but don’t even think about buying a new wardrobe.”
I can’t help but stare at him and point at my outfit. I would have thought that after all these years he would know that the greater risk is that rather than rushing off to the change-rooms, I would spend it all on books. I know that I’m the black sheep of the family; my mother is always perfectly put-together, chic and wearing the latest fashions. My father, on the other hand, is more relaxed, but still fashionable, always wearing brand names and looking young for his age. I am the complete opposite. My only nod to fashion is my leather jacket, which never goes out of style. I bought it five years ago at a consignment shop and never leave home without it; it’s sort of my lucky charm. Even if I lack their fashion-sense, I do manage to share a few traits with them. I would say that I am an optimist like my Dad and as hardheaded as my mom; when I latch onto an idea, nobody can convince me otherwise. As I was adopted, I didn’t inherit these traits, but they were acquired along the way. My parents couldn’t conceive, so they found me instead. My mother always tells me that she chose me among the stars, and she couldn’t imagine having any other child than me.
I feel privileged that they wanted me so badly, but there is still a part of me that wonders where I came from…if I knew more, then maybe I wouldn’t feel so strange? The only thing I know is that my biological parents left me with a note that said: “This is a small, precious gem. Take care of her.”
But honestly, if I was such a precious gem, then why abandon me?
I serve myself a bowl of my favorite cereal, the one with the marshmallows, and over it I pour chocolate milk, a real treat. I’ll take advantage of my Dad still being here and ask him the question that’s been bugging me since last night.
“Dad, do you know if someone recently bought the old witch’s house?” I say, while shoveling a spoonful of cereal into my mouth.
“Lou, don’t call her that, that’s not nice and, no, nobody… I think she’s still there. Why do you ask, my little toad?”
I may be a black sheep, but certainly not a toad. I don’t know why he always compares me to animals, but I have to say, I do like when he says things to make me feel special. Taking another mouthful, I ask another question, trying to speak and chew at once.
“Yesterday I saw lights and I heard a few people laughing.”
“Love! Even if she’s past her youth, she’s certainly allowed to have people over and even to laugh with them. Do you think that when I’m old, I’ll stop laughing? If I ever get grumpy and cynical, lock me up in a senior’s home and don’t bother visiting, I’ll deserve it.”
“I’ll remember you said that!”
My mother comes down the stairs in fourth gear.
“Sweetie, the taxi is here. Lou, don’t forget, keep your cellphone on you, ok?”
I rush through our goodbyes, because even though I adore them, I’m anxious to have some alone time. I can’t wait to have the place to myself; three adults under one roof can sometimes be rough. I tried to move out more than once, but they kept insisting that I stay at home until my departure for Greece. They said it was to help me, but I know they wanted to make sure I saved up more quickly so the trip would happen sooner, and that my doing so would hurry up my entrance to university.
Going to Greece for six months is expensive enough, but going to Greece for intensive cultural studies of the native population is even more so. The school provides lodging and food, but the total cost will be thirty thousand dollars and my pitiful librarian’s salary won’t raise that amount quickly. That’s why it’s taken me five years to raise it, plus a little more for my return. My parents will pay for school after that, but as for Greece, that was my idea.
After a few more quick hugs, my parents finally leave. I close the door and start a dance of joy around the living room. I spot my mother’s magnificent Louis XV style settee, her favorite piece of furniture in the whole house. My father and I have to share the small loveseat because she doesn’t trust us with hers. To be fair, my father and I are a bit clumsy, but my mother’s gone, so… I throw myself onto the magnificent settee and stretch out, socked feet of course, no need to go crazy. If my mother saw me like this she would probably have a heart attack, but she’s not here, so I’ll take advantage.
I look around my silent, empty kingdom, there are no parents arguing over the choice for supper or which movie to watch. What am I going to do with two whole weeks to myself? Any other girl my age would have taken the opportunity to organize an evening get-together filled with short skirts and the cutest neighborhood boys to flirt with. That’s certainly something I would like to do, but I know that I have no luck with men. I am pretty, at least, I think I am, guys hit on me…sometimes. But as soon as I open my mouth and say the words mythology and books in the same sentence, they look at me as if I’m from another planet and they always find an excuse to leave as soon as possible.
I’m not totally clueless in the love department, I have had one long-term relationship in my short life, and his name was Joemy. The first time I met him was in the school library and I was fifteen years old. Joemy was the singer in an indie rock group and was seventeen at the time. I don’t know what he saw in me, because we were from different worlds. He was popular and charming, while I was reserved and solitary. Maybe he was intrigued by the fact that I seemed inaccessible and different from the usual easy groupies who hung around him. To be fair, I didn’t make life easy for him. I rebuffed his advances for six months before finally succumbing to his charm after a concert that he had invited me to. We went out together for four years, which is long for a teenage relationship. We talked about getting engaged and a wedding in Greece, a dream of mine.
One day I came back from the library to the most horrible cliché. I went to surprise him at his place and I caught them together. That nasty cow, Marie, my one and only friend at the time was naked and straddling him; they were in the middle of a scene straight out of a porn film. I will never forget their insane laughter over my sobbing when they discovered me watching them. I never figured out why the two of them did that to me, and honestly, I never want to know. One thing is for sure though; I instantly cut those ties of friendship and love. Neither of them ever tried to contact me to apologize, not even by email…nothing. All I know is that they took off together to… wait for it…Greece. Yes, truly! It was as if to rub it in even more. I know that Joemy shared my passion for that country, but honestly, it was our dream. I won’t be going there looking for him, though. Anyways, I know they came back a few months ago. Marie was pregnant and they headed to Chicago to be closer to her family. I console myself with the thought that they are still together and that he didn’t give up everything we had together over a one-night-stand. Like I said, I’m a lot like my Dad, “Don’t worry, be happy”. So I took back my life, but only now with a slight scar on my heart.
Life is wonderful though, and I still hold out hope that there is a young God out there for me who will know me better than I know myself. But, I live in a tiny village and the chances of finding that special someone here are slim.
Either the settee is more comfortable than I thought it was, or I’m exhausted, because I fall asleep almost instantly. I wake up after what seems like only a minute. I don’t know what happened during my nap because I find myself with my head on the floor, and my feet on the settee. Without getting up, I turn my head to look behind me and can’t believe my eyes, Nyx is there, sitting on the Persian rug and watching me intently. How did she get in here? It’s impossible. Maybe I left my bedroom window open; I’ll need to be more vigilant from now on. In the moment it takes me to roll over, she is gone. I look for her, call her, no sign of her anywhere. I go to look in my room and notice that the window is fully closed and latched. There must be another way to get in and I’ll have to find it. I look down at my watch and notice that it’s 3 p.m. Amazing, I slept all day! I’ll deal with the case of the missing Miss Nyx later! Anyways, it’s no big deal if she’s inside as I’m mistress of the house for the next little while.
I must, however, head over to the library as we are receiving a book this morning that has been on order for months and I want to read it during my vacation. I will probably do so in a violet-scented bubble bath while eating chocolate caramels from
Ghirardelli
. My father gets them for me by mail order and they are the best in the world. He hides them from me and gives me one whenever he has a favor to ask of me, or if he wants me on his side when he’s in negotiations with my mother. What he doesn’t know is that I know his hiding place and I certainly won’t deprive myself. I should leave, though, or else I won’t be able to read my book tonight. I grab my leather jacket and cellphone and head out the door. I love to walk to work; at my pace, the trip takes me forty-five minutes, which means slow, very slow. I love to listen to music and get into my own little world while getting some fresh air. Woodstock is a small town, not the better-known Woodstock of concert fame, but simply Woodstock, Vermont. The contrast between the forests that surround us and the heritage homes gives the area a pastoral look. It’s magical during the Holiday Season with its Christmas lights in the town center; fall is wonderful with its colorful leaves; but nothing beats summer here. The scent of the summer foliage is intoxicating and the roads are all lined with leafy trees that create an intimate ambiance.
If I had only one song that I could play in a continuous loop during my walks, and the one that always sticks in my head, it’s Radiohead’s “Creep”. I have always felt as if I were on the margins of society, as if I didn’t belong and I couldn’t be categorized; I feel as if the song were written for me.
I put on my headset and start off for the library. After quite a few songs, I finally arrive at my destination. I feel so lucky to work in such a lovely place. The library is quite simply magnificent. It was built in 1800 and looks somewhat like an old Norman style church. In fact, this building has a special cachet. When you push open the great big glass entrance doors and spot the wooden vaulted ceiling, the crisscrossing arches and the wooden bookshelves…it never gets old. The thing that pleases me most though is the scent of the books. It is a smell that automatically transports me to a world that is better than reality, one of tales and stories, each one better than the next. In the absolute silence I can almost hear the whispering of the pages.