Castle of Sand

By:

LucianaMalfoy

Chapter One

“Just Another Day”

          The jarring sound of the alarm clock was enough to make anyone jump out of bed, but for Amanda Stevens it was simply a dull, dreaded noise disturbing her few hours of peace. A noise which let her know that it was time to wake up and begin another tiresome day of dealing with life’s little imperfections. Her pale hand reached out from her covers, groping for the annoying little machine and when she found it she was quite tempted to toss it across the room so that it would ring no more. But she didn’t. And her decision not to merely meant that this morning was probably going to be just like every other morning in the past six months. Everyday it was the same thing. Wake up, shower, get the kids ready for school, get ready for work, drop the kids off, deal with customers, come home, cook dinner, get the kids to bed, watch television, and then go to bed herself. With no escape route to run to, she often found herself running to and fro with no spare time on her hands. While other folks her age were busy getting married or living a life of continuous parties, Amanda found that neither lifestyle was an option for her. Taking care of her brother and sister was a full time job in itself and combined with holding down a paying job, dead ended though it was, she simply did not have time for anything else. So, realizing that she had to pull herself out of bed sometime in the next century, she switched off the ringing clock and sat up.

            Feeling as if she needed an entire pot of coffee to officially be considered awake, she rubbed her eyes with both hands and looked around the bedroom glumly, wishing that the morning had never come. Knowing full well that her wish was impossible, she threw off the satin comforter and swung her feet over the side of the bed. The feel of the cold ground against her bare toes sent shivers through her and she wanted nothing more than to climb back into the warm bed and immerse herself under its blue sheets, locking out the dread deep within her petite bones that came with the rising sun each morning. Nevertheless, she rose and walked lazily around her bed, grabbing her robe as she went that she always kept on the bottom right corner. She grabbed a pair of socks from her nightstand drawer as well since the hard wood below was such an unwelcome feeling first thing in the morning. She cursed silently as she wished her parents would have put in carpet like she had wanted them to when she was a teenager. But, if she wanted carpet then she would have to be the one to get it now since there was no longer anyone else to pay for it. Exiting her bedroom, she crept along the darkened hallway as she tried not to wake the sleeping occupants in the other two bedrooms, which were located next to each other on her left. She had a full forty-five minutes before she had to wake her sister and that gave her enough time to get that pot of coffee made as well as hop in the shower.

            Several minutes later, after turning the coffee pot on she headed for the bathroom. Switching the light on, she found herself nearly blinded by it and had to blink several times before getting used to the yellowish glare that the bulbs gave off. She stripped off her robe and nightgown, set them down on the top of the toilet lid since she considered the floor to be too dirty to place her clothes on, and turned on the shower. It took her several minutes to get the temperature right after the freezing cold water shot out of the head, but eventually she was satisfied with the lukewarm feeling on her hand and stepped into the tub, sliding the glass door shut behind her. Spending several moments with the water hitting her face, she allowed herself to relax and relish the feel. Relaxation was a rare feeling for her these days and though it was short-lived she was grateful for it. After her daily shampoo and body wash, she stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in one of the lush black towels hanging on the rail. Wiping the steam off the mirror above the sink, she studied her wet image. Not too joyous about the dark circles beneath her light hued eyes, she made an unsatisfied face and turned from the looking glass, rubbing her dripping golden blonde locks briskly with another towel. Replacing her floor-length robe, which was of lavender silk, she grabbed the blow-dryer in the cabinet under the sink and finished her duties in the bathroom.

            Fifteen minutes later she emerged with her hair dried and curled under just below her shoulders and freshly applied makeup. Although she felt physically refreshed, she still couldn’t shake the slight feeling of depression that lingered inside her like some form of decay. Trying her best to cast off the mood, she picked out her clothes from the closet, which consisted of blue jeans, a white tank top and a pair of white sneakers with blue trim that looked as if they should have been tossed away years ago. Amanda didn’t pay that detail much mind though. She was just going to work, after all. No use getting all dolled up if one were just going to spend their day behind a cash register in a grocery store. It’s not as if Prince Charming is going to come in the store to buy some milk and bread, she thought as she laced her shoe.

            Slightly more prepared to start her day, she went on to the next task. Making her way to her sister’s bedroom, shoes squeaking on the floor as she went, she opened the white door with the crudely written sign “No Boys Allowed” taped in the middle of it and walked in. The room was dark as the blinds were shut but Amanda knew her way around well enough to not trip over the half a dozen dolls that were no doubt scattered about the floor. Standing next to her sister’s bed, she grabbed cord to the blinds and, smiling wickedly as older siblings tend to do, yanked the chord down, simultaneously pulled the blinds up. As the room was instantly bathed in sunlight she said loudly,

“Rise and shine!”

The eight year old jolted upright from her sleeping position and looked around wildly, trying to figure out what had startled her out of a dead sleep, before realizing the reality of the situation as she sleepily closed her eyes and collapsed back onto her bed, pulling the covers over her head.

“Time to get up, Maddy,” Amanda said from her position, still standing next to Madison’s bed.

She watched as the little girl tightened her grip on the comforter that was on top of her and could see her body turn away towards the wall as if to say, “No, I’m not getting up and there’s nothing you can do to make me.”

Amanda put her hands on her hips and let out a weary sigh but tried talking to her sister one more time.

“Come on, Maddy. You gotta get ready for school,” she said in an authoritative tone.

When Madison merely groaned, Amanda grabbed the pink and white floral comforter and pulled it off of her sister, who was curled in a ball at the middle of the mattress. Amanda shook her head and smiled a bit at her sister’s unwillingness to get up. Realizing they had much in common, she picked her sister up, who was getting heavier each year with her unexpected growth spurts, and carried her into the bathroom, setting her down by the sink so Maddy could wash her face. The girl sat with her shoulders slumped and her dark blonde hair shading most of her face, but Amanda knew that within a few minutes Maddy would be her spunky self so she let her be and walked down the hall to her brother, Robert’s bedroom. Adopting a different routine with her five year old brother, Amanda walked into the room, switched on the light and made her way over to her brother’s bed. Sitting down on it she noticed he had managed to kick off both the comforter and the sheets sometime in the night and he was asleep on his stomach, his full lips slightly parted and a small trickle of drool was beginning to soak the pillow his head was resting on.

“Sweetie, it’s time to wake up,” she whispered as she gently shook his shoulder. He didn’t move though. She was experienced enough with this to realize that she’d need to carry him out into the living room to let him wake up slowly. So, doing this she gently set him down on the couch and went to pour a cup of coffee for herself in the kitchen.

            When she returned to the living room, she found Madison had joined her brother on the couch and she was sitting there, clicking the buttons on the remote control, attempting to find a program on the television that suited her. Madison Stevens was a rather unusual eight year old girl. Forced into independence early in life due to the fact that not many adults had constant influence on her because of her mother going to school in the mornings and work at night and having no father to cling to during these times, she had learned to take care of herself. Well, as much as an eight year old girl can take care of herself. Her sole influence as a small child had been Amanda who, at the time of Madison’s birth, was seventeen. Amanda had acted as her babysitter whenever their mother had to attend to duties outside the home and the two girls would sit and watch horror movies, much to their mother’s chagrin, and wrestle about in the living room, refusing to act like proper little ladies. So Madison began to grow up tough and although she loved to play with makeup and dolls, she also developed a rebellious streak which made her difficult to control at times, even at her young age. Amanda had always been more equipped to deal with this particular defiance than their mother and had often been the disciplinarian even back when their mother had still been alive. And now, she was glad that she was naturally stricter with rules than their mother was, since it was solely Amanda’s responsibility now to keep Madison in line.

            Robert, on the other hand, was much more dependant than his older sister. He was the baby of the family, therefore it was only natural for him to be a “mommy’s boy”. He was spoiled and if things didn’t go his way, he was most certainly not above doing a tantrum to get what he wanted. Amanda didn’t even want to think about the stacks of toy boxes in his closet and over by the living room wall containing all his worldly possessions that he had acquired over the past couple of years. He also took their mother’s death harder than any of them, she suspected. He would still wake up in the middle of the night calling for “mom” and although Amanda was always right there next to him when he needed her, she could still see the disappointment in his sapphire eyes when it was her that came through the bedroom door and not their mother. Amanda wasn’t exactly sure whether he understood the meaning of death or not, she suspected he didn’t but she did her best to soothe him. She was attached to him emotionally, just as she was to Madison, and she had a sinking feeling that she needed them more than they needed her.

            “When do I have to get ready?” Madison asked without turning away from the television.

“In…twenty minutes,” Amanda answered, looking up at the clock.

Madison nodded slightly but didn’t say anything else. Amanda took a sip of her hazelnut coffee and arched her eyebrows.

“Breakfast?” she asked.

“Hot chocolate,” Madison answered, her high-pitched voice squeaking a bit.

“Does Robby want anything?” Amanda inquired as she watched Madison turn to her brother ask if he wanted anything to eat. Amanda heard him mumble something and then Madison turned to her and replied,

“He says he wants coke.”

Amanda’s head tilted to the side as she rolled her eyes at her brother’s unique version of breakfast.

“No, Robby, you cannot have soda in the morning,” she answered as she heard him make a pitiful noise and kick his legs straight out in frustration on the couch.

Amanda just turned on her heel and went into the kitchen to make the hot chocolate and decide what to substitute soda for so that her brother would be satisfied. She settled on a bowl of cereal with no milk and brought the food out to him on his little table.

“Madison, your hot chocolate is up on the kitchen table,” she said, nodding her head in its direction, “try not to spill it.”

Madison scooted off the couch and went to fetch her drink. Attempting to bring it into the living room, she marched back into the kitchen when she got a stern look from Amanda.

“Why can’t I have it in there?” she whined, pointing to the living room.

Amanda walked past her into the kitchen to begin loading the dishwasher.

“Because it’s milk, Maddy. If it spills on the couch it will stain the beige material. You know that,” Amanda answered, trying not to sound tired since she had told Madison that a million times. Does everything I say go in one ear and out the other? She wondered as she poured the detergent into the washer.

“You have to make my lunch,” Madison said from her chair as she slowly swung her feet in the air.

“I know, give me a minute, would you? I can’t do a million things at once Maddy,” Amanda voiced as she moved about the kitchen.

After a few minutes, she noticed Madison had disappeared from her chair and she peeked around the corner to see if she had gone back to the couch. Finding only Robert on the couch, who was now chewing his cereal while glued to cartoons on the television, she dried her hands on the dish towel and went about making their lunches.

Soon it was time to drop the children off at school and after getting them dressed, Amanda hurried them into her car as she locked up the house. Buckling Robert into his booster seat, for although he was tall he was a thin little thing and didn’t yet meet the weight requirements to sit in a regular seat, she gave him his water bottle and kissed his cheek before getting into the driver’s seat. Within minutes the black SUV was on its way with the trio inside.

“I want you two to have a good day at school, okay,” Amanda said, looking at them in her rearview mirror.

“Okay,” Madison said timidly.

“I will,” Robert said cheerily. His smile was enough to light up Broadway and showed a missing front tooth. If Amanda was glad about anything, it was that Robert thoroughly enjoyed going to school. She just wished she could’ve loved it as much as her brother.

School for Amanda had been frightfully boring, which constituted her reasons for staying away from college. She was a tad regretful about that now, if only for the fact that a college degree could have ensured her a higher paying job, of which she desperately needed. But, Amanda knew that life doesn’t always work out the way you planned it to. If someone had told her five years ago that she would be taking care of her brother and sister for the rest of her life and working paycheck to paycheck as a cashier, she would have scoffed and waved off that silly notion. But that’s exactly how life turned out for her and at the moment, she didn’t see anything up ahead that signified improvement. So she contented herself with the current lifestyle she led because she couldn’t see any way to fix it.

Parking the car at the curb, she turned back towards the kids and reached a hand to unbuckle Robert, who managed the rest of the way on his own. They each grabbed their backpacks and headed out the door, Madison leading the way. They each waved a quick goodbye and then turned and walked through the iron gates. Amanda watched them go, Madison in her jean shorts and navy blue babydoll top, Robert in a t-shirt and jeans as well. Madison walked her brother to his kindergarten class and then went on her way to her second grade room, bouncing along.

            After making sure they got in, Amanda took off towards her work which was fairly close to the school, only about five miles. Pulling into the parking lot, she noticed that very few cars were present which only meant that this would be a slow morning. In a way she didn’t mind, for it meant that she could take her time fulfilling her duties. But it also meant that time most certainly wouldn’t fly by and that meant she would either have to listen to her coworkers talk about their lives, which they deemed problematic, or listen to the jumble of thoughts that were going around in her own head all day. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to either option. Looking in her mirror, she smoothed out her deep mauve lipstick with an index finger along her rounded upper lip and sprayed some perfume on her neck. Smelling nice was an important quality to her, and she never left the house without a bottle of spicy perfume. Checking her eyes, which were of an unusual shade of bluish green, she smudged a bit of charcoal eyeliner along the lower lashes just to give her eyes more depth and finished off by applying some much needed powder to her shiny nose. She knew she wore more makeup on a daily basis than a lot of women but she didn’t care. She succumbed to the vanity which she was sometimes guilty of, although if one were to assess her deadly sin, it would most likely be pride. That was something that was very difficult for her to let go of, no matter how hard she tried. Her pride got in the way of many things and though it made her life a bit harder at times, it was never stronger than when faced with the desire for affection and companionship. Yes, it had most certainly more than once gotten in the way of love.

            About an hour after Amanda had arrived at work, a black Mercedes limousine glided gracefully along the uneven roads of the countryside. It looked as if it had been recently washed and waxed and the sunlight gleamed off of its slick surface as it drove along like a black bullet. Within its confines sat three men, each one dressed elegantly and handsomely, all of them sharing a familiar quality of superiority as they chatted upon the leather seats of the fine automobile. The driver, who went by the name of Bill Jenkins, was dressed as any proper chauffeur would be. With his black blazer and slacks, leather gloves and white button down shirt he suited his job perfectly while still possessing a rather friendly air. A humble man, Jenkins usually found something good in everyone and everything, even his boss whom some might see as a rather dislikeable fellow. His boss, Samuel Ryan, sat in the back with his legs crossed at the knee having a formal chat with the third man about a business deal. Ryan was a shrewd man complete with a trust fund the size of Nebraska. His hair, once black, now housed more than a few gray strands, was slicked back and short. His tanned face possessed more than a few frown lines and his dark eyes hid within remnants of a life lived too quickly and without much enjoyment and seemed far too old for his forty-five years.

            The man sitting beside him was a younger gentleman by the name of Richard Barron. He was not as uptight as Ryan but he was just as arrogant, or at least many people seem to think so. And the haughty way in which he looked down at everything only magnified this less-than-pleasing effect. Barron held a few redeeming qualities though. For one, he was a handsome fellow, more than capable of turning a few heads as he waltzed by. And although he tried to act as if he paid no mind to the attention he got, he secretly gloated over it. With sky blue eyes in perfect almond shapes, his gaze was captivating and intimidating at the same time. He had a strong nose as well as a masculine chin, almost square in its shape, and a come-hither smile that showcased his perfectly straight upper teeth. They were capped, of course, but you wouldn’t catch him revealing that to anyone outside his dentist’s office. The bottom row of his teeth were less than perfect as they were slightly crooked but he left them be since no one really saw them anyway, and he mostly concerned himself with the parts that were readily visible to the eye on a daily basis. He was an accomplished womanizer and prided himself on being able to have any woman that he set his sights on. For, if she wasn’t attracted to his looks, she’d certainly be attracted to his money. Either way, he always got what he wanted and he seldom had to look hard for company. Charming though he was at times, he could also be a bit selfish and had a tendency to put his needs before anyone else’s. That was, after all, how he became the successful businessman that he was in the first place.

            Now as they drove along towards their destination to a private business meeting, Richard talked with Ryan about the section of real estate that he was interested in purchasing in the city of Corona.

“Ryan, the deal will be sealed by the end of July. That gives you roughly a month to get your men ready to work,” Richard informed him, matter-of-factly.

“I just hope you can negotiate this one, Barron,” Ryan returned.  He glanced up over at Richard with a less-than-hopeful look on his mature face.

“Everything will be fine,” Richard assured him, “we shouldn’t have any problems. In fact, I’d worry more about your lazy workers getting the construction started than my sharp business skills.”

He smiled slightly and took a sip of his brandy that he held in his left hand.

“Those lazy workers get your dream houses built, don’t they?” Ryan replied, sarcastically. Turning his head, he looked out the window at the scenery. Sighing, he asked,

“Are you sure you want to build here?”

Richard leaned back in his seat and unbuttoned his double-breasted tailor made jacket, “Yes, of course I’m sure. You have hundreds of people in this state looking to relocate to some lesser populated areas, areas like this,” he pointed quickly out the window.

Ryan looked back at him with an arched brow.

“This town has great potential. Once we put up some town-homes and some gated communities, who knows, maybe this place will begin to look a bit more civilized,” Richard commented, his accent a bit more prominent.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Ryan said, scratching his temple.

“I do,” Richard confirmed. “I’ve already got-,” he began but was cut off abruptly when the limo hit a bump in the road causing him to spill his drink onto his white shirt.

“Damn it!” was the first thing that came out of his mouth as he sat the glass down in the cup holder. “Get a napkin, will you?” he exclaimed impatiently at Ryan, who gave the cursing man a near sympathetic look. He pulled a handkerchief from his inside pocket and handed it to Richard, who began wiping the amber colored stain on his shirt. Unfortunately, it did no good. The brandy had soaked through and was a large brownish spot about three inches long that covered part of his chest.

“Here, let me see,” Ryan said as he pulled Richard’s jacket open a bit to get a look at the stain. He winced when he saw how apparent it was and tried to wipe the shirt down with the cloth after dipping it in water but Richard all but swatted his hand away.

“That doesn’t do any good, Ryan! Christ, I can’t go to the meeting like this,” he said, gesturing at his attire. He leaned back in his seat angrily and puffed hot air out of his mouth with a sneer worn upon his face.

“We’ll find a way to fix it Richard, calm down,” Ryan warned him.

They both heard a voice coming from the front of the car and looked up at it. Jenkins had heard the commotion and turned back to see what was wrong.

“Club soda should get that out sir,” he offered. “Just a dash of that and things come right out.”

“Club soda?” Richard asked loudly, looking around the mini bar for a bottle of the bubbly liquid.

“Yes, sir,” Jenkins replied.

Richard’s search came up empty though and he sat back silently, tapping his foot on the floor with the speed of a jackhammer.

“Well,” he said, sighing, “you seem to have the only limo without a bottle of club soda, Sam.”

He spoke in a clipped manner and looked over at Ryan as he said this before turning to rest his cheek on his thumb and index finger, as he tried not to lose his temper any more than he already had.

“Jenkins, pull in the nearest store,” Ryan instructed the driver. “We’ll buy a damn bottle of club soda, Richard.”

Within minutes the limo had come to a stop in the parking lot of Fred’s Market.

“This is the nearest store?” Richard asked skeptically, making a disgusted face in the direction of the building, which looked to be about one third of the size of a large franchise grocery store.

“Just go, Richard,” Ryan replied, getting impatient himself.

Richard opened the door and began to climb out, mumbling miserably as he went. Buttoning his pinstriped black jacket back up as he attempted to cover the stain, he glanced up at the sign with a disdainful look upon his handsome face, closing the car door behind him.

“They’ve probably never even heard of club soda,” he said to himself as he began walking towards the front door.