The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves (5 page)

The sisters stared from
Nixy to each other, mutual expressions of “
what was that all about?”
etched
upon their young faces.

After an awkward second or
two, “Were you praying?” asked Elena.

“
Of a sort,” answered
Nixy.

“
Of a what?” inquired
Mikalah, a bit confused.

“
Oh,” said Nixy, chuckling
behind her hand. “I forget the way I am used to talking is much
different here in this country. I meant to say, ‘yes, I was’. I
guess, you could call it praying, but it is a little not like
praying. Do you understand?” Her eyes boring into Elena’s with such
intensity, her gaze was borderline ferocious.

Elena almost moved back a
bit, but caught herself. “I guess…,” she began, “like praying and
giving thanks? Is that it?”

She’s just different
that’s all.

“
It is more like asking
for a warding…,” began the pale little girl. Upon seeing the
confusion in eyes of her companions, she added, “You know, a
warding - a thing of protection?”

The sisters glanced at
each other, as though their mutual stare could bring some sort of
comprehension.

Then, “Oh, like when we
asked God to protect us from temptation?” ventured
Elena.

“
Yes, like that,” smiled
Nixy somewhat broadly for the first time that day. She bit into her
muffin and took a small pull from her milk container, gulping it
down as quickly as she could manage.

The sisters seemed quite
pleased at being able to communicate with someone who had come from
so far away and had a new, but interesting way of speaking and such
unexpected ways about her.

Even Mikalah had to admit
it.

This was why Mr. Henderson
and Mrs. Smith were so pleased to have
them
show Nixy around. She and her
sister were polite and naturally inquisitive; thus, they were the
best suited to handle situations just like this.

All the other kids were
too into themselves and, as their father would have said,
never paid attention to detail
. They would have made fun of Nixy, eventually, and the poor
little girl would’ve come to hate her new school, and quite
possibly her new home as well. Both were so far and so different
from her homeland, she needed someone to reassure her, to let her
know everything was going to be fine.

Rather quickly, a brown,
long-haired girl from their class named, Laylanie, came up to their
table, breaking the reverie. “Hey, are you guys going to play on
the bars today?” she asked out of breath.

“
Naw,” answered Elena.
“We’re still talking with Nixy and showing her how we do
things.”

Laylanie gave the new girl
a cursory look-over.

Nixy returned it with a
blank stare. Her eyes were suddenly glossy.

Laylanie turned on her
heel, saying, “Okay, I guess it’s ‘stay with the weirdo’s day’
today.” She laughed so loud, it was most likely heard half way
across the playground as she galloped away.

I knew it, nothing but a
bunch of retards!
concluded Mikalah to
herself.

The sisters both shook
their heads, half-closing their eyelids in disgust.

“
Don’t worry about her,
Nixy. She’s always been a little mean,” offered Mikalah,
“especially to girls she’s just met.”

Nixy just shrugged and
kept on eating her muffin, drinking her milk in regular intervals,
her eyes staring after the girl named Laylanie.

“
So, where do you live,
Nixy?” asked Elena, trying to lighten the mood darkened by her
thickheaded friend.

“
Not far, atop that hill
over there,” she answered, pointing to the only natural feature
visible from the schoolyard.

“
Heeeey, we live about
half way up that hill too on Milbur Drive. Do you live on Milbur?”
asked Elena, taking a big bite of her buttered muffin, talking
through her food.

Gross!
Mikalah grimaced at her sister’s lapse in manners.

“
No, I live on the top of
the hill,” replied the little girl.

“
Yeah, but on what street
do you live, Nixy? There are like three streets that go up the hill
from three different ways. There are roads and houses on all of
them.” Mikalah implored, shrugging her shoulders palms up and
outward from her body. “So, which one do you live on?”

“
I just live at the top,”
was the answer, short and final.

“
Okaaay,” was Mikalah’s
reply, giving her sister the “Oh well” shoulder-bunch and raised
eyebrows.

Elena stayed quiet, not
quite sure what to say, feeling uneasy all over again. Nixy
continued to peer across the playground at Laylanie as she
scampered about the jungle gym at the far end of the school’s
property.

By chance, another, much
smaller girl walked across Laylanie path. Each made way so the
other could pass. It was common occurrence on a playground as small
as the one at Yorkdale Elementary, but its’ effect on Nixy was
immediate. She stiffened, stifling a gasp.

Mikalah wasn’t sure if the
girl was choking on her muffin, glancing at her sister with concern
upon her face.

Elena was about to ask if
Nixy was alright when she spoke.

“
Who is that girl?” she
asked through clenched teeth, pointing directly at the
newcomer.

Mikalah felt her eyes
widen when she looked upon Nixy’s face and saw what seemed to be
unbridled fury boiling in the others’ eyes. She brought a hand to
her mouth. It was her turn to be shocked.

“
That’s Marissa, Marissa
Avalon. She’s a good friend of ours, but she isn’t in the same
class with us this year, which is sort of blows… Why do you ask?”
wondered Elena, caution in her tone.

Nixy was quiet for a time.
She seemed preoccupied with steadying her breathing, stood there,
clenching and unclenching her fists.

To the sisters, the tiny
Scandinavian was confounding to watch. It seemed like a thousand
emotions were playing across her visage – all of them distinct,
some of them direct contradictions to others. It was beyond
strange. It was unnerving.

Why is she mad at
Marissa?
questioned Mikalah to herself,
unsure where the query originated. Maybe it was a feeling, a sense
that something was wrong.

“
I… I was just curious,”
replied Nixy, belatedly, watching the tiny form of Marissa Avalon
half-walking, half-skipping across the yard toward the handball
courts.

The pale-skinned girl
seemed much more than curious.

Another silence befell
them.

“
Well, maybe one day we
could go and spend time at your new house up on the top of the
hill,” blurted Elena, trying to say something to fill the anxious
moment.

“
Hopefully,” the pale
Scandinavian uttered. “That would be quite expedient.” Her pale,
blue eyes were glued to Marissa as she struck up a conversation
with some of her other girlfriends.

Well, this was all turning
out to be hugely unfunny
, thought Mikalah,
finishing her milk with a big gulp, wanting to rid herself of the
situation.

The bell rang. Rather
timely, in her opinion. She was already gathering what was left of
her “school” breakfast.

All at once, the
playground was suddenly a cacophony of howling children and
pounding feet, as kids everywhere, scrambled back to
class.

~~~~~~~~<<<<<<{ ☼
}>>>>>>~~~~~~~~

Sonny

Thursday, November
18
^th
,
3:33 pm…

Kimberly Madison waited
beside the parking lot at the back of Eagle Rock Junior/Senior High
School. She held her Physics book against her breasts, backpack
slung over one shoulder, with a look on her face that seemed to
melt from anxiety one minute to irritation the next.

She was a pretty,
fifteen-year-old girl, despite the black lipstick and overzealous
use of black eyeliner and sky-blue eyeshadow. She had a typical
complexion for a Caucasian with a narrow, bird-like face, an
aquiline nose and prominent cheekbones. To any stranger, it looked
as though she powdered her face with white cover-up to extenuate
the contrast between her black lips and eyes with her complexion,
but she hadn’t. She was naturally pale, porcelain-white skin that
never ceased to burn, even from the weakest rays of the sun. She
was always working some sort of moisturizing lotion or sun
screening oil into her face to avoid it. Because of this contrast,
her blue eyes stood out moreso, especially when framed against the
blackness of her hair. Those orbs were the only color amidst the
absence of color, black and white, with two luminous pools of
crystalline blue in the middle.

She wore a black pair of
torn up jeans, the brand long scratched away by her own hand to
give them a look onto themselves - unique, hers. She had cut all of
the holes and placed the metal studding. She’d even sewn the
patches and etched the various drawings in permanent marker. About
the upper portion of her person, she wore a clinging t-shirt, plain
white, under a form fitting leather jacket, a pair of broad
reflective sunglasses covering her eyes. Her ever-present
fifteen-holed, Dock Martins encased her feet, laced up to the
eighth hole and tied there, to let the topmost portion of her shoes
fold back down onto themselves. They bounced and flopped with every
step.

Not walking now, Kimberly
was leaning against the railing on one side of the narrow walkway
running adjacent to the parking lot itself. It was constructed
bordering what had once been called, the Boy’s Gymnasium, but, for
reason’s Kimberly deemed idiotic, was now termed – The South
Gym.
More ridiculous politically correct
bullshit to keep the parents of all the rich kids happy,
she was fond of saying regarding the
matter.

Her eyes, hidden behind
the sunglasses, flicked about her surroundings with a kind of antsy
twitch, as if she were late for a meeting or an event of some type,
though there was no such pressing engagement. She shook her head in
frustration, glancing over her shoulder to her left, stink-eyeing a
couple of preppie cheerleaders as they scampered their way down to
the football field. They walked behind Kimberly’s position, on the
lower terrace, lying directly before the broad stairs and multiple
doorways leading to the aforementioned gym. They yelled and laughed
with so much enthusiasm, it made Kimberly want to puke.
God damned cheerleaders can suck
balls
, she thought, uncrossing her arms,
now holding her textbook with her right hand cupping the
spine.

Matter of Fact, she wasn’t
the slightest bit late. It was her boyfriend, Sonny, who was tardy.
This upset her more than a little, because he was never late.
Usually, he was the one bitching and complaining about how long it
took her to get out of her final period and meet him here in the
parking lot. He would rant and rave for a few minutes and would
then switch gears when she’d glare at him. He’s say something lame
like he was only anxious to see her, to have her in his arms.
Though, she’d roll her eyes, she actually didn’t mind hearing those
words from him and usually favored him with the smile he deserved.
That would be that, and he would zoom out of the parking lot,
nearly hitting her fellow students as he did so. It was so much of
a routine, she’d grown used to it.

On the other hand, when
Sonny
was
late
that could only mean a few things, none of them were good. None of
them spelled a comfortable afternoon for Kimberly. This is what
bothered her at the moment.

Only a few things would
make Sonny late – an argument with his father, which would mean he
would be in a horrible mood and, sometimes, in so much of a funk,
Kimberly would have to lay low until some of the storm from his
brow dissipated. Another possible reason was car trouble, which
could set him off even worse than a little tiff with his father.
The third cause, the one Kimberly never really liked to think
about, was another girl. After which, he would mark his arrival
with a flourish. He’d be in a wonderfully good mood that could turn
into a Mount Saint Helen’s blowout if she so much as asked what
kept him from being on time. There’d been more than a few of each
over the course of the past few months. She really didn’t know what
to expect today…