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Chapter Six - Megan
Seven days and eight nights. That is all the time we have spent in this world. It’s not long, not long at all. It’s a short period of time. A week is how long I’d wait for my favorite prime time show to air its new episode. I used to be paid once a week, every Friday. A week used to be the standard waiting time for something to ship, three to five business days. It usually equates to a week from when placing the order—unless you’re ordering from Amazon. Most things in life take longer than a week, especially the things in life you want the most.
Most people spend their whole lives waiting for the exact moment when they achieve their goals and clutch their desires. How can I think I’d get the thing I want the most in a week’s time? Did I seriously think my life would go back to normal, that I could ever have anything rudimentary be my worry or concern?
What I would give to have average people problems. The car broke down, the dishwasher stopped working, a stubbed toe, a broken nail, or a late bill—the daily problems that bombard the average person. For some reason, I was never upset when any of those average issues occurred. No, I didn’t call them dilemmas—I called them blessings. It used to comfort me to know that there were problems I could easily solve. It made me feel like I could do something, even if it wasn’t much. I learned how to fix my dishwasher and car, or hire the right people. I could put a Band-Aid on the stubbed toe and file the broken nail. The late fee for that bill, it wouldn’t break the bank. I could solve those problems.
I have no fucking clue how to get home.
I’m glad to say I haven’t broken down—yet. In the week’s time, I’m still holding strong, though the constant nightmares don’t help. Every night, flames engulf me, or that’s at least how it feels. I wake screaming, crying from being burned alive in my dreams. When I wake, there isn’t the faintest clue what they were about, only that they leave me with the sensation of being seared like a steak.
Poor Dana has been sharing a bed with me since Kevin took us in; I don’t think she has slept more than a couple of hours since. I’m up all night tossing and turning, screaming, and crying, she can’t possibly get any rest. Two nights ago, I slept because I drank myself into a stupor. I don’t remember going to sleep that night— someone must have helped me to bed—but I woke up the next morning without the painful sensation of my skin ablaze. My head throbbed and I wanted to throw up, but my skin didn’t feel burnt.
I didn’t drink last night. I don’t want to start a habit and end up like Kevin, or worse, my mom. No, I have to be stronger. Eventually, I will fall asleep again. At some point, I’ll pass out and get a few precious hours.
It’s not as if anyone else has gotten much shut-eye. Ciara’s gray eyes rest on dark, puffy pillows. Her thick red curly hair is a tangled mess—it’s gone completely wild. She cracks her knuckles as soon as the joint allows. Cooking keeps her calm. She has always been an excellent chef, and now she is our taste tester.
Sarah is resilient and has been known to work off little to no sleep. She doesn’t give any hints as to how she feels about our predicament, she only questions and studies. If Sarah gambled, she would win millions in poker. She cleans the house and washes all our clothes, a daily chore since we only have two work outfits and one for out in public. Any other free time Sarah has is spent with Ciara in the kitchen, canning and prepping for the winter.
Dana and I have worked on the barn house with Tristan when he and his cousin haven’t gone hunting. They have been sleeping at the house, which isn’t their normal routine. Tristan said they rent from Kevin in the winter months and hunt during the good months. I would still consider the weather we are having good, so they should still be out hunting.
I can think of a couple possibilities influencing the cousins to stay, but I’d like to think they are mainly here to support Kevin. Xander has been helping him work in the smithy, completing orders. From what they’ve said, the cousins have known Kevin for roughly seven years. They might be his only true friends in Capo.
I haven’t heard him talk about anyone else except Brynjar. He’s a veteran, and a retired blacksmith. Brynjar left Kevin the property when he retired to live in the woods. From what the men have told us, he isn’t too friendly.
I’m not thrilled to meet him today. Not only is today our seventh day here, but it’s the first day we aren’t working. We are waiting for Kevin and Dana to return from the market. They went to get last-minute supplies for Brynjar that we had forgotten yesterday. To say the market is chaotic would be an understatement. It’s pure insanity. Vendors from all over sell their wares before moving south for the winter. They sell everything at the market. Cloth, cosmetics, food, spices, containers, furniture—everything and anything can be found there.
Hundreds of stalls line the streets in an open bazaar that consumes a sixth of the town. Rows and rows of brightly colored tents or flags fill the area. Each color symbolizes what items are for sale. Stripes indicate they sell multiple items. Orange for vegetables and fruits, red for meats, dark blue for cloth, light blue for clothing, yellow for spices, green for furniture, white for beauty products—which also includes personal hygiene. Many other flags flutter in the breeze, so many, it’s hard to remember them all, and it’s even more confusing when you’re trying to figure out what all the stripes represent. Throughout the area, people sell food on foot or they have booths where you can buy something quick to eat. Most involve eating off a wooden skewer.
Kevin said it would be faster for just Dana and him to go, but I think he wanted to spend some alone time with her. They’ve been flirting since our first day in town. I’m happy for him. It’s been years since he’s had anyone to confide in who grew up with similar life experiences. She is the only person besides me who knows him from home, plus she had a crush on him when we were kids.
I feel bad. I still don’t know if I made the right choice telling him about his son. I think I hurt him, but I honestly didn’t know what to say. I wish I could go back and not say a word. Only tell him that his family is well and they miss him.
“You all right?” Ciara, holding two cups of tea, startles me. Her eyes look like big gray marbles drowning in bloodshot white. Her curls match the red. “I haven’t slept either. I think the fresh air and a walk might do us some good.”
After placing our cups on the kitchen table, she tucks her locks behind her ears before sitting down. She zones out into her cup of tea, cracking her knuckles. It’s clear she wants to talk but can’t speak. We take sips of the hot tea. It’s the closest Ciara could find to regular black tea, but without the tea bags. Most of the leaves are large and rarely break apart when boiled. However, occasionally a piece will find its way up the skinny kettle neck and get stuck between my teeth. We need to ask Kevin to make us a strainer.
Ciara clears her throat and looks up from her tea. “Since, um, since Brynjar’s cabin is near where the guys found us, maybe we should check if there’s a portal—just to make sure.”
“Ciara, you know Tristan and Xander found nothing. They grew up in these woods, they know it better than anyone else does, and they say they found nothing weird. We can look, but I don’t think we’ll find anything.”
“I know, I know, but I don’t want to give up,” she says, her eyes pleading. “It’s my parents. They could be dead. What if no one picked up their medications? Who’s taking care of them? I don’t even care about going home for my sake. I just want to know that they’re okay.” After wiping tears from her eyes, she cracks her knuckles. Her voice trembles, each word louder than the last. “Are we supposed to give up? Sarah keeps talking about finding a way home. You and Dana are building one! I can’t do it!” She slams her palms onto the table, closes her eyes tight, and takes a deep breath in. “Maybe the cousins don’t know what to look for, but maybe we’ll find something,” she says with her eyes clenched shut.
“We’ll ask Kevin and Dana when they get back. I don’t know what good it will do, but we can try,” I say.
 
; She opens her eyes and deflates into her chair like a popped red balloon.
I reach for her hand and muster a smile to comfort her. “Listen, I haven’t given up hope. I’m just not sure we will find hope there. There’s a way to travel back and forth to Earth, we just have to discover it. We don’t know what or who brought us here. It could have been the forest or someone. If it was the forest, do you think it will happen in the same spot twice? Kevin came from the Pine Barrens to a different area south of the town, nowhere near where we arrived. Nothing makes sense. Until we figure it out, we need somewhere to stay, so the barn is necessary. But don’t think it doesn’t hurt me to build a house somewhere that isn’t home.”
She nods. Sipping tea calmed my nerves somewhat. I wish it would do the same for her. She looks horrible, in need of a distraction just as badly as I do.
I ask, “Where’s Sarah, Tristan, and Xander?”
“Sarah and Xander are going over the inventory. The guys are staying for the winter. They’re checking the food supply. Sarah and I have never gone grocery shopping for seven people to last potentially four months, but Xander has. We’re making progress on fruits and vegetables, but we need more dried beans, among other staples. We will probably go at the end of next week to get flour, cornmeal, salt, and wheat just in case it snows early. I don’t want to get meat too soon. The men can hunt if needed, and they know how to prepare what they catch. Tristan is around here somewhere. I don’t know what he’s up to. I’m surprised he isn’t hungry and pestering me to cook him something. He has one hell of an appetite.”
“I’m not sure he’s after the food.” I wink at her and a sliver of light pierces her eyes. Like sunlight steaming through gray clouds, it makes them shine, if only for a brief second before more storm clouds roll in.
“Shut up! Stop it!” She blushes. Her cheeks get rosy when she talks about someone she has a crush on. “I barely know him.” Her peach lips pucker as she leans in to whisper, “He is cute, with those chocolate puppy dog eyes… but I have too much on my mind to flirt.” She shakes her head, a sly smile glides across her face. “He makes me laugh, though, and takes my mind off things. His personality is infectious. So happy. Nothing seems to bother him. I think I like that the most.”
“Plus he has a cute butt.”
“Megan!” Ciara swats my arm, glowing, looking much better than she did before.
***
It gives me chills to stand in front of the forest that morphed in front of my very eyes. I’m hesitant to walk through the tree line and down the path. The last time I walked down a path for leisure was a week ago. We had planned a picnic. Something simple, always easy to organize and do. It wasn’t hard planning our walk to Brynjar’s cabin today. What could go wrong?
I try hard not to think of all the possible outcomes—from returning to Earth to traveling to a completely new world.
Sarah and Dana were able to walk by without stopping to take notice or reflect. Ciara paused for a moment and then smiled gleefully, saying she had a good feeling.
I don’t. I feel dizzy, angry, and like I need to vomit. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to go into the woods that changed my life, I don’t want to meet Brynjar, and I don’t want to go back where it all started.
I don’t.
Dana turns around and shrugs, jogging to the spot where my feet have rooted themselves.
“Come on. We are all together. If it happens again, we’ll go together,” Dana says, grabbing my hand to pull me along.
All I can do is nod.
My mind keeps playing tricks on me. Every few steps, I catch glimpses of oaks and pines, the kind I would find in Pennsylvania, only to turn my head and see more jade bark. No brown bark with branches holding tiny green needles, no soft brown oak trees with big green leaves changing color for the fall.
Kevin points to a symbol carved into a tree. It’s about the size of my fist and almost looks like the Olympic symbol with five rings intertwined, but in a circular shape. “If you ever get lost trying to find Brynjar’s cabin, just stay on the path and follow these markers. It should take an hour from here.”
On our way, Kevin fills us in about Brynjar, the man he says has been a father to him since he arrived. Brynjar fought in the last Fae war, returned to Capo, and never married. From what the cousins have said, he was always a loner. He wanted seclusion after the war and never spoke why. In general, from what they have described, the man doesn’t speak too much and has little to no personality.
Out of nowhere, Kevin announces we are on the property. It takes a moment to tell someone even lives in the vicinity. Brynjar built his cabin out of a single huge jade tree. It blends seamlessly into the forest, perfectly camouflaged. Nestled into an alcove, the cabin backs against a steep incline. Two windows and a door mark the cabin as a livable place; without them, I’d think it was a huge old tree covered in spiderwebs. The garden and well are the only other signs someone lives in the area.
“Brynjar! I’ve come with supplies and some friends and family I want you to meet!” Kevin yells.
He doesn’t respond, at least not politely. A string of what I can only assume is cursing comes from inside the cabin, along with grunts and bangs.
Kevin shrugs. “He’s probably just waking up, though he normally doesn’t sleep in this late. He sounds grouchy today.”
With my hands on my hips, I ask, “How can you tell?”
“Wait!” Brynjar shouts through a window.
Five minutes later, he opens the door, letting us inside his cramped cabin. The inside has rustic charm. The carved jade wood walls and furniture add simple beauty to the cabin. A rocking chair, table, and bench are on the right, a bed is to the left. The back wall has a small wooden shelf with a pot and pan, a couple plates and bowls, and various eating utensils. Beside the shelf is a small fireplace. Flowers and various herbs hang from the rafters, drying. Tiny purple flowers that remind me of miniature lilacs hang over the table, and dangling above the makeshift kitchen are different plants that remind me of basil, rosemary, and thyme.
I slide onto a bench first. Dana, Ciara, and Sarah follow, squeezing in, causing my right leg and Sarah’s left to hang off the side. The cousins find a space by each windowsill on either side of the door. Kevin stands behind us girls while Brynjar plops down on an old creaky rocking chair across the table from us. The whole time, Brynjar grumbles under his breath about too many people, not enough coffee, doing his utmost best to make us all feel unwelcome.
Finally, with his pipe in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, Brynjar sits back on his creaky chair and eyes our group—but mostly me.
“You’re cousins… humph, family resemblance,” Brynjar says. He then takes a long drag off his pipe, blowing smoke circles at the ceiling toward the mini lilacs. His sad gray eyes narrow in on me. “How’d you get here?”
“What do you know?” I don’t want to give Brynjar more information than needed. Kevin said he trusts him like a father, and he knows Kevin is from Earth, but I feel uneasy. He’s too guarded, and I think he’s judging me.
“Enough.” He places his mug on the uneven jade table and scratches his unkempt ashy beard; it matches his unruly peppered hair.
“Tristan and Xander rescued us from the nunda and brought us into town. We were lucky they brought us to the forge, to Kevin. I haven’t seen him in eight years. Our family didn’t know what happened to him.”
“How?” Brynjar stretches his broad back against the chair. It whines under his weight, threatening to break.
Dana responds, “One minute we were walking through the woods behind my house, and the next minute the forest changed, tree by tree. We don’t know what happened.”
Brynjar doesn’t look at Dana, he stares directly at me, making my skin crawl. Not sexual or threatening, I don’t know how to describe it besides wrong. I don’t enjoy being interrogated by a man I’ve never met. It’s making me uncomfortable.
“Dana, Megan, and Tristan are rebuilding the bar
n. They’re making it into a large house and already built a new shed. Come by and check it out,” Kevin says.
Brynjar grunts.
“I packed you meals, a loaf of bread, and some different canned sauces. You should visit. The barn house should be ready in another two weeks. I’ll cook a nice dinner to celebrate. What’s your favorite meal?” Ciara tries to break the ice, but it is super thick.
“Edible.” Wow. He can’t get any more simplistic than that. Ciara looks taken back, shocked someone doesn’t care about what they eat or how it tastes. After a moment of dead silence, he takes his eyes off me. “Chops, sweet roots, anything home cooked by a woman tastes good. I’d appreciate a pie, any kind.” Winking, he adds what I would call an ugly smile instead of his resting scowl.
“I’ll think of a good pie filling.” Ciara nods as the wheels begin to turn behind her eyes. She’s surely thinking about pies, keeping her mind occupied.
“Business good?” Brynjar turns to Kevin, done interrogating me.
“Yeah, was busy, normal flow. It should slow down soon.”
“Humph.” He turns, back to studying me. Smokey eyes stare as if deciphering a riddle. He looks at Kevin and then does the most unexpected thing: He laughs. It’s hard to make it out at first, the gruff, harsh sound, almost like a wheeze. We all glance around, trying to figure out what is making this old, bitter man laugh. He grins. “Life’s a strange mystery.”
“That’s for sure. We didn’t expect this,” Sarah says, rolling her brown eyes. “It was a one in a million chance that we came to the same town as Kevin. If you ask me, it’s more than coincidental, and nothing happens by coincidence.”
“Hmm. Wise words,” Brynjar states, shifting his focus from Kevin to me.
Kevin gets up and walks around the table, then reaches for Brynjar’s hand. “We’re going to check where Tristan and Xander found the girls. We want to get back before it gets dark. Good seeing you. Come down soon.” They shake hands and Brynjar gives us a nod of approval as we all say our goodbyes.