Chapter Five

My headache all but disappeared as the day wore on, although would become irritated once again if I bumped the lump protruding from my skull. Randi and Gina remained with me the rest of the day, able to keep their peace for a few more hours while we played a few board games. We were immersed in a game of Settlers of Catan when Uncle James arrived home from his job.

He walked in right after Randi snatched a plot I had been trying to nab, and heard me creatively curse. "I see you're feeling better Darien," he greeted, amusement in his smile. "Hello Gina, Randi. Long time since I've seen you two at the same time."

"Hello Mr. Mitchell," Gina returned politely.

"Hey," Randi added after being elbowed in the side. "Darien, roll."

"You already stole my land," I pouted. "I just needed you to trade me your wheat and I could have built a settlement."

"Then I would’ve not got the land," she replied, flicking the dice at me. I stuck my tongue out at her.

"What's this game?" Uncle James asked, peering over my shoulder.

"It's Randi's," I pointed out. "It's like the perverted offspring of Monopoly and Risk."

"Sounds entertaining." He gently tilted my head back and inspected the egg that attached itself to my forehead. "How are you feeling, sport?"

"Fine," I replied honestly.

He frowned slightly and released his tender hold. "I still want to take you in to make sure-"

I rapidly declined, repeating I was okay. He chuckled, but didn't press the issue further. "I don't see why you won't go to the hospital," Gina started as I drank from my glass of orange juice. I shrugged in reply as she continued on. "The doctors only want to help you."

"I hate medicine," I retorted. "Period."

"Why? It's not like it's going to melt your brain or something," Randi pointed out.

"You never know..." I counted up the points, and discovered with the last settlement she had placed she had won. "Randi took the game. Again."

She smiled, tugging at her shirt that once again slipped off the shoulder of her small frame. "I'm just a better strategist than you." I rolled my eyes, and starting stacking the pieces.

"Well then..." Gina stood and gathered the empty glasses from the table. "What shall we play next?"

I shrugged, flicking my finger at the figure borrowed from Candy Land. “Ima rean?” Randi questioned in our language, with a frown.

I sighed and rested my head on my arm. “Dunno. Restless, I guess.”

She looked to where Gina had disappeared into the kitchen, before leaning on the table so far her legs were straight behind her like she was lying down. “What did ya wanna to talk about yesterday?”

“A weird dream I had.” I reminded myself I had two other dreams in the meantime, both during the day. “Never mind now.”

“Dream?” her nose wrinkled, as her brown eyes pressed me for details.

“It’s nothing.”

“Wasn’t nothin’ yesterday,” she interjected.

“I’m serious. Really.”

“Uh-huh.”

Gina entered the room again, and Randi quickly slid off the table and into her seat. Gina looked at us expectantly. “What were you talking about?”

“Nuthing,” Randi quickly retorted. I winced at her harsh tone, and knew the unsteady truce they had called for the day finally broke as Gina’s face fell before becoming a fake smile.

“Well, since your uncle is home now I guess I’m going to go home,” she stated.

I groped for a reason to stop her, hopeful to mend the truce and keep both my friends happy. “You can stay if you want. I mean, he’s probably going to be working in his office anyways.”

“It’s okay Darien,” she replied, waving her hand in a pushing aside motion. “I’m sure you and Randi need to talk, anyways.”

“What’s that supposed ta mean?” Randi retorted hotly, rising from her seat. I groaned and rested my chin on one hand as the two girls started to face off.

“Well obviously,” Gina started, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Darien wanted to speak to you yesterday but I came by and interrupted, so you two must want to continue your conversation today. It must be terribly important.”

“He just wanted to talk about a stupid dream, okay?” Randi shot back. “Can’t talk around you ‘cause you flip out over anything occult or plain weird!”

I think my headache is returning, I thought to myself sarcastically.

I saw a momentary spark of curiosity and excitement in Gina’s eyes, but when she looked at me it faded to disappointment. “I’m going home,” she announced, and turned on her heel towards the front room.

I quickly stood, moving to follow her and hopefully stop her exit. “Gina-“

“Let her go, Darien,” Randi ordered. “She acts like such a prick.”

“Gina!” I called, but she had already reached the door and slammed it shut behind her. I winced as a small picture frame fell from the wall.

“She’s different from the Gina I used to know,” Randi huffed, propping her fists on her hips clad in her brother’s faded and tattered jeans. “She used to be cool. She liked our games. Now she turns her nose up at them.”

“Randi, don’t talk about someone when they’re not here,” I asked quietly, picking the picture up from where it fell and noticing the glass had cracked and the frame had split. “And she does not.”

“Well…she just acts funny about them! Remember, we used to see ghosts and monsters and would scare ourselves silly? What did we call it?”

“Creepers, after that one movie,” I replied. “And we didn’t see things, Randi. We pretended.” I looked at the picture inside the frame, a ‘family’ portrait from several years ago. My red-blonde locks stuck out like a sore thumb.

“I’m tired, Randi,” I mumbled. “I’m going to go lie down.”

“Okay. I’ll just watch-“

“Actually, since Uncle James is home, you can go home too,” I stated, prying the cardboard back off the frame.

“Uh…sure…” She went to pick up her board game as I moved into the kitchen to throw away the broken glass and cheap wooden frame. “I’ll call you later then?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Thank you for coming over.” I looked at the picture in my hand.

“No problem.” She opened the door but paused. “Are you okay, Darien?”

“I’m fine,” I gave her a smile, feeling worn out behind it.

“Okay…later then.” She shut the door behind her. I released a heavy sigh, and fingered the picture.

Guess I better keep this in my room until I find another frame, I thought to myself. Aunt Rachel probably wouldn’t notice it missing off the wall. I headed upstairs, but as I passed Uncle James’ office he called through the open door, “Darien. Would you come here for a second?”

I slipped the picture into my back pocket of my baggy pants and stepped into the room he had converted into an office. He looked at me curiously from where he sat at his desk. “I heard shouting. What’s going on?”

I shrugged. “Gina and Randi.” The two names explained everything.

“Going at it again?” he asked.

“Yeah. They can’t get along for more than a few hours or the universe comes undone.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, champ. Girls are pretty confusing, aren’t they?” I nodded in reply. “Growing up changes a lot.”

“I wish it didn’t,” I mumbled. “I wish we didn’t have to grow up. Then we could all still be friends.”

He smiled at me sympathetically. “I know Darien. We all want to stay kids forever. But being older brings some positive things too.” I nodded miserably. He reached out and lightly punched my arm. “Just keep your chin up. Everything will turn out fine.”

I hope, I added silently. “Thanks Jim. I’m going to go vanish for a few hours.”

“Alright. I’ll call you for dinner.”

I exited his office as he turned back to his computer. I sighed as I entered my room, shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the door for a moment, staring at the ceiling above me. I wish school would start. Then at least I have something to do during the day.

I turned my attention to the quilt spread on my bed courtesy of Randi. The ordinary, every day object looked like nothing spectacular, but the strange dreams still hung about me. I wasn’t sure what to call them yet, except definitely weird.

I wrapped my fist around a corner of the quilt and pulled it down from the loft bed, letting it drop to the floor beside me. I sat beside the strange black and red stitched blanket, cross-legged and frowning slightly.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with the quilt, other than the unique colors and stitching. I recalled that Aunt Rachel proclaimed the stitches were by hand. I carefully pulled the quilt to me so I could inspect the thread woven throughout the fabric.

I can’t tell if it’s hand made or not, I thought, running my fingers about the pattern. It’s really…different, though.

I rested my chin on my hand, my arm propped on my leg as I rubbed the fabric between my fingers on my other hand. It feels old. That’s all. I dropped the quilt, letting it fall to the floor. “Then what’s going on?” I questioned no one in particular.

I sat up straight and folded my arms, trying to think. My eyes fell on my bookshelf, bending with the weight of the written word. This seemed like something from one of the stories. So I had to figure it out, just like the plot in a good book.

“Alright, let’s think,” I said aloud, finding that speaking my thoughts helped keep them straight. “First dream I got from sleeping under the quilt. The second dream I fell down the stairs. I wasn’t asleep, but I was lying on top of the quilt.” I thought for a moment. “The third…the quilt fell over me.”

That old woman was in all three, I mentally added.

I sat on the soft carpet a moment longer, as the urge to voluntarily enter a ‘dream’ came over me and wrestled against common sense and superstition to leave this whole situation well enough alone. I released a breath of air, aiming it up at my bangs as I reached for the quilt again.

“What am I doing…” I mumbled, looking down at the quilt in my hands. “I should just toss it in a box and never touch it again.”

Then the faint aroma oranges and bananas tingled my sense of smell. I remembered back to when I first caught the scent, wrapped with and almost smothered by the thick, suffocating odor of smoke and ash. The strange smell that clung to me for weeks after, which no one else could sense. My aunt reassured me that I had only imagined the sickening stench from the charred remnants of my home.

I recalled telling Randi and Gina about the citrus tinted odor, and they were instructed by worried parents to play along. At some point, they had forgotten the purpose to amuse me and we all believed, because it was never a game to me.

“It’ll only be for a moment,” I finally decided, stuffing my feet into tired sneakers ready to collapse in their line of duty. “Anything weird or creepy, and all I have to do is cover myself with the quilt again and I’m back.”

Remembering how cold it was, I fetched a worn bomber jacket from my closet and slipped the old leather about my shoulders. I found the borrowed flashlight under my pillow from a late night reading session and checked that it had batteries.

Then with a deep breath, I whisked the quilt from off the floor and wrapped it about me.

Beyond the smell of banana and oranges that clung to the blanket, I could detect pine. The blanket slipped from about my head to fall around my shoulders, as I blinked at the bleak and bleary daylight weakly making it’s way down through the tree branches. I smiled slightly, staring at the forest about me.

“Magic,” I laughed softly. “I just stepped into a fairy tale.”