The Evensong (3 page)

“Where do you think you’re going to go?” I asked, sitting up.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, leaning against the wall. “I thought California might be nice. I’ve never been to the beach, not since I came here.”

I wrapped my arms around my knees, sighing. “Are you going to look for your parents?”

She scoffed. “No, I’m on my own there. I just want to go to school, look into being a botanist.”

“You don’t need to look into that, that’s your gift,” I said. “Isn’t that cheating?”

“Okay, maybe I’ll
minor
in botany. I like animals, too.”

I nodded, smiling a little. I really had no reason to be mad—I was just being selfish.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Alysana asked, suddenly looking excited. “We could get an apartment on the beach, get jobs in Hollywood. It would be sweet.”

I laughed. “Hollywood?”

“It’s just a thought,” she shrugged. “Will you think about it?”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it.” A lie. I needed time to think on other things.

She left, saying she had some research to do. I let her go, deciding I should finish what little homework I had.

Outside, the rain had almost stopped, and I couldn’t wait until morning. The swamps would bring out some answers.

THE
SWAMPS

I woke up early the next morning, finding the sky was still gray. Mouse had fallen asleep next to me, huddled in a ball under the covers. It was still chilly, enough that goosebumps rose on my arms.

I changed quickly, taking a hoodie from my closet after I’d slipped on my shoes. It was slightly warmer than the air, and I rubbed my arms as I stepped into the hall. I closed my door slightly and tiptoed past Alysana’s room, down the stairs to the first floor. It was even too early for Rene to be up; the kitchen was empty. I glanced into the living room before I reached the front door and I noticed a blanket spread over the couch. A figure lay under it, the head covered with the blanket. Judging by the drawings on the coffee table, it was Omar.

There was a basket of extra blankets next to the TV, and I took a second to grab a few and drape them over him before I left. He was so immersed in his work, he sometimes forgot to really take care of himself.

Outside, the air was even colder than the house. I pulled my hood over my head and stuffed my hands into the hoodie pockets. I didn’t have to take a car with me since the swamp was so close.

Halfway up the road, I wished I
had
taken a car. The wind wasn’t particularly fierce, but it was cold enough that my nose started to run and my cheeks were losing feeling. I jogged the last few minutes, hands over my nose and mouth for warmth. The wall of the swamp trees was close enough that I could see the dark scars on the bleached trunks. The dank smell was strong now, and I could almost taste it when I slowed to a walk at the path.

I stood still for a moment, taking time to catch my breath. The ends of my jeans were wet and stained with mud, which would only get worse the second I walked into the swamp. I could hear a woodpecker hammering at a tree and a warbler chirped further inside. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the trees, immediately walking off the path, taking my own way.

Soon, the open road I had taken disappeared behind the trees and the ground became increasingly unstable and soggy. I almost tripped once since my foot landed in a particularly soft spot, and my ankle nearly twisted. I quickly moved on, ducking under some of the moss hanging from low branches. There was a specific place I liked to sit, and I hoped it would be a little dryer than the rest of the swamp. The chances of that were slim, but I still tried to think positive.

The fallen tree that I called mine was unoccupied, as usual, and a darker color since it was wet. There was no way to fix that, so I just sat down in the center, keeping my hands in my sleeves. The log overlooked the area where the ground disappeared, replaced by murky water. The trees shot out of these waters, rimmed with algae and draped in moss. You could hardly see the other side of the swamp since the trees were so dense. This was my spot of meditation, totally immersed in nature of the wildest kind.

The water stirred a few feet out, making me jump a little. I knew it was probably a caiman or a turtle, which made me smile a little. Something moved out of the corner of my eye, and I turned to look, barely spotting a newt before it disappeared under my log. This was an ideal day to be here; just after the rain, life was teeming.

I rested my head in my hands, closing my eyes. Just having my eyes closed made my other senses peak. The almost-still water seemed to be louder as it shifted subtly; the birds that still slept were waking slowly, just ruffling their feathers. Concentrating on these sounds, I breathed evenly, letting myself detach from my physical body.

I drifted through the treetops first, feeling how the moss moved gently in the slight breeze, and grazed past the trees. I paused by a warbler, probably the one I had heard earlier. Carefully, I just touched its being and momentarily felt the clear chirp in my own throat.

I slipped into the water next, one of my favorite things about the swamps. It was full of life of all kinds. It was thick with algae and different mosses, and the tree roots twisted and spiraled out from the trunks. I was just following one of the many fish, when I happened to branch out to something else on shore.

I jolted back into my body with an unnerving force. I looked up, trying to catch my breath. There seemed to be a lump in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I’d never been forced back like that . . . I must have just been surprised at feeling a person nearby.

After a second of breathing hard, I spotted it—the person I had felt. He was standing on the opposite side of the wide swamp, perched on one of the thick tree roots sticking out of the water. I’d never seen him before, not here and not in town. His hair was long, just touching his shoulders, falling into his eyes in jagged pieces. But it was his eyes that really held me; almond-shaped, cat eyes that were more impish than anything. He stared at me looking just as surprised as I felt. He adjusted his hand on the tree for balance, and I stood, turning away fast and going back the way I came.

When I was sure he couldn’t see me, I ran the rest of the way, the swamp splashing up and soaking my jeans to my knees. I could still feel his presence back there, and I found myself still running after I left the swamp, and I continued all the way down the road and back up the porch of the house.

I was ridiculously out of breath when I stopped just inside the door. I was also very cold. Rene was just standing between the living room and the kitchen, her favorite mug in her hands. She stared at me with a slight frown, a thick shawl draping around her shoulders.

“Riley, what are you doing?” she asked.

Leaning against the door, my jeans covered in mud, I must have looked crazy.

“I—I was at—the swamp,” I gasped.

“Did you run home?”

I nodded, pushing my bangs away from my face as I removed my damp hoodie. I was shivering hard, and Rene looked impatient as she walked into the living room and came back with a blanket.

“Here, you’ll get sick if you do this so much,” she said, putting it around my shoulders. It was long enough that it dragged along the wood floor, and she looked at my pants. “Come on, drop them, I’m doing the wash now.”

I turned away and peeled my jeans off, keeping the blanket tight around me. I handed over the soaked denim, doing as she asked when she told me to wait in the living room. Omar was still on the couch, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.

“Hey,” he said as I sat in the armchair, keeping my legs covered. “Where’d you go?”

“The swamp,” I replied, huddling into the blanket.

“This early?”

I shrugged. “I wanted some alone time.”

“To project?”

I nodded, thinking about the nice projection I was having before
he
interrupted . . . whoever he was.

Rene brought me a cup of coffee, complete with sugar and cream as I liked it. I sipped it carefully, letting her question me as much as she wanted. She worried about me too much sometimes, and especially now since Omar was leaving; she knew we were close.

“What brought you to the swamps so early?” Rene asked, pushing Omar’s feet out of the way so she could sit.

“I just wanted some time to think things over,” I said, “and to project.”

Rene nodded, letting her mug float just next to her hand. “You know I don’t like it when you do that alone. I don’t mean going to the swamps, but projecting there. You’re very vulnerable when you do that.”

“I know.” I tried to hide my annoyance. I’d heard this millions of times. “There’s no one out there anyway, just today.”

She looked at me sharply. “There was someone there?”

“Yeah. I’d never seen him before, not in town, I mean,” I replied.

She looked thoughtful, and her mug shook a little, giving away her unease. “Hm. Him . . . was he older?”

“No—I mean, definitely older than me, younger than you.”

“Aha. I can only think he might be the heir to that home—the big house on the other side of town closer to the swamps. Sharon was just telling me about that.”

“What house?” I asked, trying to think of it.

“The gentleman who lived there was never really around; he traveled a lot, but he just died a few weeks ago. Sharon wanted to sell the place to locals, but then they found the will. I guess the guys name was on it.”

“Why would he be in the swamp?” Omar asked. “Only freaks like Riley hang there.”

I rolled my eyes at him, then listened to Rene again.

“If he lives nearby, he was probably curious. I don’t know if that was him for sure, but it’s possible if Riley didn’t recognize him.”

I shrugged slightly, the guys face coming up in my mind. Again I thought of his eyes, somewhat shielded by his hair. They could be pretty up close . . .

I shook my head slightly. What was I thinking? He had intruded on my turf,
my
projecting. He was a stranger in the town, and I bet everyone was talking about him.

“Were you feeling any better today?” Rene asked, moving on.

“Sort of . . . I was just planning on staying home though.”

She nodded in understanding, standing when she heard Hank coming down the stairs. He appeared with his hair tousled, one of his cats cradled in his arms.

“Is there anymore cat food? They’re all complaining,” he asked Rene as she passed him. They went back into the kitchen, and I was left to finish my coffee and think about the swamp.

“Why didn’t you wake me up before you left?” Omar asked, sitting up and leaning against the arm of the couch.

“Like I said, I wanted to be alone,” I replied. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he shrugged and yawned, smacking the empty space on the couch. “You’re probably still cold, huddle over here.”

I smiled slightly and waddled over, keeping the blanket secure around my waist. I sat next to him and brought my legs up onto the couch with me. I thought we were going to watch TV, but Omar turned towards me, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“So, what’s wrong?” he asked.

I shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said, what’s bothering you?”

I sighed, reaching for the remote. “Lots of things, don’t worry about it.”

“Seriously—”

“Seriously, I have to worry about my ceremony and homework, it’s no big deal. I just have to get it over with,” I said, clicking on the TV, my sign that we were finished. Omar let it drop, instead shoving my shoulder and calling me stubborn. He was right, and I knew he knew what was really wrong; it would just take a lot to get me to admit it to his face.

I tried to concentrate on the TV while I flipped channels, but my mind was elsewhere. It was still in the swamps, still staring out at the wet trees and the stranger standing on the root. Looking out the window, I almost wanted to go back, but I knew he wouldn’t be there. He was long gone by now.

I finally got enough sleep that night since there was no storm to keep me up. Unfortunately, that meant I was going to work, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. I asked Omar to come in early if he could to possibly save me from Lisa’s death glares and generally negative vibes. He laughed, but said he’d try to get on his lunch break a little early.

“Maybe I’ll even stand there with you, make you feel better about being a lowly cashier,” he joked before I was out the door.

He claimed the Beetle that morning, so I drove the old blue Jeep to the market, getting a parking place near the door. The sky was pretty clear, and the sun shone brightly across the town. It made me feel a little better about the day, though that almost died out when I walked through the door. It wasn’t particularly crowded, but Lisa stood behind the cash register, looking very pleased with herself. I wasn’t even that late, and I wondered if Meryl was angry with me for not showing up the day before, even though I called. She was currently in a deep conversation with Sharon, the realtor Rene knew.