Authors: Lawna Mackie
Enchan
t
m
e
nt
Lawna
Mackie
Copyright ©2013 Lawna Mackie
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
www.lawnamackie.ca
Enchantment 2
nd
edition
A
c
k
no
w
ledge
m
en
t
s
Thank
y
ou
to
my
wonderful
friends
w
ho
have
alwa
y
s
believed
in
m
e.
M
y
r
iah
and
Ja
m
es,
I will
forever
be
indebted
to
y
o
u
.
Sand
y
,
y
ou
inspire
m
e
to
w
rite
and
to my
husband…well
I
don’t have
enough
w
ords
in
my head
to
describe how
m
uch
y
ou
m
e
an to
m
e. I
love
y
o
u
all.
Chapter
One
Distant thunder rumbled through the darkened sky. The black clouds churned and rolled across the horizon Meeka searched for a recognizable landmark. A momentary shiver of panic skittered down her spine. She recognized none of the trees on the riverbank. She’d gone past her usual turn-around point.
Meeka
glanced
at
the
dial
on
her
watch.
“
D
a
m
n,
it’s
way
past
noon.”
Ann
o
y
e
d,
she
glanced around.
“
Where
did
the
time
go
?
”
Exhaling
sharpl
y
,
she
scolded
herself
for
forgetting
to
stay focused.
Fr
u
stration
boiled
like
the
storm
that
gathered
above
her.
The
wind
howled,
for
m
ing
white
-
capped
wav
e
s.
Hungri
l
y
,
they
lapped
at
the
sides
of
her
w
ooden canoe.
Com
m
o
n sense
dictated
a
quick return
to
shore; it
was too
dangerous to be out
on the
water.
Still,
Meeka
couldn’t
help
the
ti
n
y
wish
that
the
water
w
ould
take
her
so
m
epla
c
e
far away
from
all
her
worries.
At
the
age
of
twent
y
-
five,
s
he
still
loved
fairy
tales.
Perhaps
the
soft
green
m
oss,
sweeping cedar
evergreens,
and
rainbow
-
hued
wildflowers
were
clever
l
y
concealing
homes
of
fairies
and
s
prites.
Peacefulness
seeped
into
her
soul.
Hidden
far
within
the
m
ountains,
the
winding
stream
remained
secluded.
It
was
her
place, the
one
refuge
in
her
dreary
life.
The
air
was
infused
with
j
oy
e
m
bodied
in
the
s
m
ell
of
warm Earth
and
soft
leaves,
a
welcome
reprieve
from
the
stench
of
stale
alcohol and
ashtra
y
s.
Her
sto
m
ach
twisted
at
the
m
e
m
or
y
of
the
ear
l
y
-
m
orning
phone
call
from
her
parents.
Their slurred
wor
d
s
m
a
d
e
it
apparent
th
e
y
w
ere
drunk, again.
U
nable
to
stop
her
thoughts,
s
he
continued
to
let
her
canoe
drift
farther
d
o
wn
the
stream
w
hile
she
reflected
on
her
ear
l
y
m
orning
m
ishap
—
in
particular,
the
screeching
ring
of
the telephone
ruining
what
had
appeared
to
be
a
ve
r
y
relaxing
m
orning.
In
an
instant,
her
thoughts cascaded
back
in
ti
m
e.
For
a
s
plit
second,
her
eyes
closed.
Anger
and
r
e
sentment
clawed
at
her
stomach.
Her beautiful
world
disappeared,
r
eplaced
by
the
smell
of
cigarettes
and
h
a
rsh
wor
d
s.
The
scenario played
out
the
s
a
me
way
every
time,
but
s
o
metimes
it
was
w
o
rse
than
othe
r
s—especially
if
her p
a
rents
had
been
fighting.
H
eeding
their
calls
led
her
h
o
me
to
a
cluttered
space
filled
with empty
bottles,
full
ashtrays,
and
hatred.
Each
time,
she
lost
a
piece of
her
s
oul.
Meeka
g
roaned
in
fr
u
stration,
opening
her
eyes.
She
picked
up
the
receiver
with
a
happy
“
Hello”.
H
e
r
heart
stuttered
at
the
faint
hiccup
before
a
familiar
voice filled
her
ear.
“
Hello,
daughter,”
her
father
sl
u
rred.
“I
hope
I
haven’t
caught
you
at
a
bad
time.”
H
e hiccupped.
Meeka
swallowed
against
the
cotton
in
her
m
outh,
her
han
d
s
trembling.
She
wished
her han
d
s
could
slide
through
the
telephone
line
s
o
she
could
w
rap
them
a
round
her
father’s
neck. She
knew
the
sound
of
those
words
all
to
well.
Sad
m
e
mories
washed
over
her.
He’d
been
d
rinking
again,
and
s
he
w
a
s
certain
her
m
o
m
had
followed along.
It
didn’t
m
a
t
ter
h
o
w
m
a
n
y t
i
m
es th
e
y drank
th
e
m
selves
into oblivion,
M
eeka could
never rid herself
of
the
painful
m
emo
r
ies.
The
cu
r
sing,
hurtful
words
never
went
a
w
a
y
.
It
alw
a
y
s
left
her
w
ondering
how
they
didn’t
kill
one
another.
M
ost
t
i
m
es,
he
s
ounded
s
o
sweet
t
r
y
i
ng
to
coerce
her
to
co
m
e
to
th
e
m
,
but
not
this
t
i
m
e.
A
fter
the
drunken
binge,
it
see
m
ed
to
be
a
form
of
rede
m
p
tion
for
the
m
.
She’d
clean
the
m
ess, tend
to
her
m
other’s
cuts
and
bruises,
and
agree
with
eve
r
y
t
h
i
ng
her
father
s
aid.