Extraordinary (10 page)

“The words are only visible when one of us open it,” I said.

“Damn.”

“I have visions and Sadie hypnotizes bugs.”

“Not just bugs! I’m sure it works on other animals and probably people!”

“Regardless, it’s all new to us,” I said. “We have been trying to experiment. Just wave your hands around until something happens.”

He smiled at the sarcasm but I was half serious.

“That’s how I found mine,” Sadie said, never one to think anything is impossible.

“Maybe later,” Blaze said.

"Why aren't you more interested in this?" Sadie prodded.

I was curious about that too. Though I may have been distrusting and alarmed by it at first, I was still engrossed by the idea of magic.

"I just got home," he said. "Knowing that this information separated us, that my mother is dead and my dad is so distraught I'm not even sure where he is takes time. I’ve been through a lot and I can deal with a lot but even I can only take so much at once…don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Curiosity really did kill the cat. Smothered him with his own nosiness.

The rest of the conversation centered on our lives thus far. Sadie and I shared stories of our childhoods—embarrassing, happy, and otherwise. As I spoke of Mom, the two of them listened, alternating smiles and subtle frowns of what might have been. Occasionally, Blaze would divulge a story or two of his own but never asked any questions.

He could run straight to Aunt Leah without hesitation but asking Sadie or me personal questions was unthinkable. I took no offense. We had our whole lives to learn about one another. If he did not care to pry, I did not care to be offended.

Growing up, he followed a strict routine. From an early age Dad expected Blaze to perform a list of daily chores, in addition to his homework. He was never allowed to sleep-in and bedtime was promptly at 10:00 p.m. There were very few celebrations of birthdays or holidays in their home, at least at the caliber of Mom and Aunt Leah’s. I never recognized the blessing of such moments until I no longer had the chance to experience them. Blaze never once appeared resentful. I supposed he couldn’t miss what he never had.

From the ages of five to nine, Blaze played on a Little League team. He said his participation was limited because he was smaller than most of the boys. Still, he and Dad showed up for every practice and every game just the same. I tried to imagine Blaze as a child, suited up in his uniform, throwing around a baseball with teammates twice his size. Although I had seen a photograph of him at age two, I still couldn’t picture him as anything but enormous and intimidating.

When Sadie inquired about high school, Blaze shocked neither of us by declaring football his sport of choice. The summer before ninth grade he went from an average size five-foot-seven to a whopping six-foot-one in a matter of months. By tenth grade he towered above everyone at six-foot-four making him a shoe-in for varsity football. This story I had no trouble believing.

As the clock struck 2:00 a.m, a collective yawn swept through the room. Time had slipped away unbeknownst to any of us. Bit by bit, Blaze had slid further down on his portion of the couch. His head rested against the back of the couch while Sadie had stretched out across the two unoccupied cushions next to him. My legs were thrown over one armrest and the rest of my body was scrunched into the chair.

“So what are your plans?” I asked. “Can you stay awhile or do you have…Marine things to do?”

“No Marine things for a little while,” he laughed.

Sadie yawned; incapable of holding her eyes open she struggled to appear alert and conscious. Her eyelids fluttered as she fought against their desire to close for the night. Sadie’s head bobbed forward and back in subtle nods, growing heavier each time she lifted it from the couch. The fight was for naught. After the battle had raged for several minutes, her eyes closed, neck angled, and neither faced any further resistance from Sadie.

“Stay,” she mumbled. And with that she fell into a deep sleep.

“I guess I can stick around. You two don’t seem totally crazy.”

“Give it time,” I said.

Blaze scooped Sadie up, his biceps unresponsive to her weight. Sadie’s sleepy head fit comfortably in the nook of his chest and shoulder. Her dainty body cradled between Blaze’s sturdy arms like he was built to support her.

“Where’s her room?” he whispered.

My index finger pointed toward the staircase. Blaze took a step then paused, contemplating.

Duh, he doesn’t live here.

My fatigued body stretched from its reclined position and led Blaze to my room—her room now. Carefully, he placed a lethargic Sadie onto the bed, covering her with a blanket. The day, though not particularly hectic, had exhausted us all. Blaze’s eyes scanned the room, examining its contents while intermittently trailing back to Sadie. A smile formed on my sleepy face.

“It’s weird isn’t it?” I asked.

“What is?”

“This. Us.”

Blaze’s answering nod was almost imperceptible. He exited into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. The two of us lingered at the top of the stairs. I offered him Mom’s room, since the guest room had no bed. He declined stating the couch was far better than some of the places he had slept. I dared not open that line of questioning.

“I know,” I blurted as he descended the stairs. “I know that my life is supposed to evolve and change but I never predicted this.”

“I was never sure of what I was searching for until I knew you existed.”

And with that he disappeared into the darkness of the living room.

****

Chapter Eight

Had to run. See you soon, Blaze.

I had found his note on the kitchen counter with my favorite coffee mug pinning down the top left corner of the paper. Considering we had no food left, only coffee, it was quite perceptive of him to think that’d be the first place I would look.

For someone who had been dreading a boring, emotional summer at home, I had sure found myself anything but bored. This proved humorous considering I had not actually done anything; instead the weird situations found me.

“Maybe next I will sprout wings and fly off this porch,” I mumbled to myself.

Trying to imagine what else could happen was impossible. In this short time, I had managed to stumble upon secrets, siblings, and tales of a magic world, so psychic powers didn’t seem farfetched.

“So I take it you had a rough night too,” said an unexpected voice.

Startled, I swiveled left to investigate the source. Sadie and her knotted mess of hair peered around the screen door through squinty eyes, outwardly annoyed at the sun for shining so brightly.

“Night? Sadie you slept all day.”

“Wow, well I guess that explains why I’m so hungry,” she said, joining in on my laughter.

“We should probably buy more groceries so we don’t starve. Kate only bought enough for me for a day or two. First you might want to fix yourself a little.”

Sadie delicate hands skimmed her clothes and face searching for whatever it was that I found so amusing. Once her hand located the snarled wad of blonde hair piled atop her head it too became entangled in the mess. With her back to me, struggling to hide what I had already seen, Sadie ran her fingers through her rat’s nest, while I worked on containing my giggle-fit.

“Can we practice our powers today?” she asked. “Maybe we can find out what Blaze can do. I’ll bet he has a really great power. He’d have to. A big, strong guy like him can’t have some girly super power.”

“You’d think. He’s not here though. Left a note in the kitchen.”

The words had barely left my lips before Sadie charged back through the screen door like she had been set on fire. Her footsteps thudded across the living room floor, fading in volume as she neared the kitchen. Silence reigned for several seconds, I wondered if she’d finally combusted. Uncrossing my legs, I placed one foot on the porch and winced at the pins-and-needles assault on my unsuspecting size nines. This happened to me often. I found it difficult being comfortable with my feet firmly planted on the floor.

Yes, I understand irony
.

The thud of Sadie’s footsteps resumed. She was coming back to the porch and sounded more distraught than before. I leaned back into my chair, ready for the fireworks.

“He’s gone!” Sadie yelled from inside the house. “He said he would stay!”

The screen door flung open, slamming into the arm of my rocker, and ricocheting off. 

“Dang, Sadie. Calm down.”

“But he left!”

“And he said he’d come back. He has life you know.”

Was it naive to believe that sibling solidarity could be instantaneous? Maybe it was too much too fast for him.

It was too much too fast for us all. Immediate unity was a pipedream that Sadie cooked up while I stirred the pot. Shared genetics or not, we were strangers and comfort was not often produced overnight. Without knowing why, I had begun to mirror Sadie's distress. Blaze's departure had caused me little worry up until this point.

“He probably just has errands to run,” I said, shaking off my own doubts. “He has been overseas for awhile.”

Sadie’s vibrancy had vanished. She slumped into a hunched-over position, choosing not to accept what I believed to be a rather logical conclusion. Searching her face, I hoped for a sign that I was reading too much into her mood change or that she was overreacting.

She’s overreacting
.

She lifted her head enough to flash her heartbreaking puppy-dog eyes. I, too, was disappointed in Blaze’s exit but Sadie’s dejection far surpassed my own. It was my turn to do the uplifting for once.

“He will come back, Sade. Do you want to go to town with me?”

“I like that you called me ‘Sade’.”

“A nickname from me is sure sign that I intend to keep you around for awhile.”

The ever-evolving, nerve-racking situation that had become our lives needed to be put on hold for a spell. No pun intended. It was time for a bit of normalcy.

“Do you want to drive?” I asked.

“Your Jeep? Absolutely!”

To cheer Sadie up and disguise my post-traumatic stress developed as a result of our last trip to town, I was more than prepared to hand over my keys. Sadie beamed. I said a silent prayer for a safe trip with no ominous visions.

“You might want to change first.”

Having apparently changed in her pajamas overnight, Sadie stood barefoot wearing an old concert tee that swallowed her whole. The shirt skimmed the top of her kneecaps making the presence of pants a mystery. As I would expect, she wore the t-shirt like an elegant evening gown but barefoot and pant-less could cause a stir in town.

Minutes later, she returned to the porch. Sadie surprised me yet again. She was now wearing an outfit strikingly similar to something I might consider. We both wore jeans—tattered with a few holes, but in a stylish way, not frumpy. When I say ‘stylish’ I mean I paid thirty-five-dollars, with a coupon, for denim fabric with holes and scratches.

Don’t get me started on that.

“We sure like white and gray,” I quipped.

Sadie’s faded jeans slumped over most of her shoes, making only the toe visible. Gray suede flats replaced her girly sandals. Sadie wore a cropped gray vest over a simple white tank top that clung to her narrow hips and shiny, beaded bracelets jingled on her wrist. I sported a thin, gray cardigan and plain white t-shirt that I had worn so often it was only a matter of time before it disintegrated.

“Wow, what are the chances?”

The grocery store was minutes away, yet I held my breath most of the drive. Our previous automobile experience had left me traumatized. Sadie, on the other hand, seemed to be back to her usual perkiness. Lucky for us both that she couldn’t see the video in my head of what could have happened that night or we would be walking.

After several grueling minutes of my lump-in-throat, lungs-in-a-vice-grip anxiety, the car came to a stop in front of the grocery store. I swung open the door and leapt out. Squatting between my car and the truck in the neighboring parking spot, I tried to pull myself together before could Sadie notice the state I was in.

“Alex?”

“What? Yeah. I had to tie my shoe.”

I flashed a smile and led the way into the store before she had time to notice I was faking it. I strolled up and down each aisle, taking much longer than necessary. My nervousness dwindled but I felt no need to rush. Sadie pranced from one end of the store to the other in search of sodas and some type of fruit whose name I couldn’t repeat if my life depended on it.

“That guy was checking you out,” Sadie said, startling me.

“What? Who?”

“Over there by the milk and eggs. He’s cute, you should go talk to him.”

“Oh, no. I don’t think so. Plus, I’m starving.”

“Fine, well I found everything I needed,” she said. “How about you?”