Chapter 5 #2
“Oh, good, then you’ll love our asparagus festival.”
“Asparagus festival.” I point at him and his smiling face. He’s far too charming when he smiles, and it disarms me. “Let’s get back to that. I need proper work, a career.”
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the tenses there, mister.” He holds his hands up in defeat, busted. Biting my lip to hide my smile, I think back to when I was Lark’s age and everything I wanted to be. “I don’t know. Honestly, I just wanted to be happy.”
“And are you?” He glances down at the countertop, a flush rising to his face before he stammers on. “Sorry, I’m sure that was out of place.”
“No, you’re right. Sometimes happiness is where we figure out where we belong career wise.” He looks up at me, those baby blue eyes of his ensnaring me. “I always wanted to write.”
“Yeah?” One word, a response that seems innocuous, simple, meaningless. But from Arlo? His eyes light up as he looks at me, and he tilts his head to the side, wearing that disarming smile on his lips. “What kind of writer?”
“I don’t know.” It’s a lie because I know exactly what I want to write, I just don’t think I can admit it to him out loud.
“Well, I just so happen to have the perfect job for you that may just allow you to accomplish your dreams.” He pops up, grabs a card from beneath his desk, and writes a number on it.
“Is that what you are now?”
“What’s that?” he asks, distracted.
“The sandman.”
His head shoots up, and his face is slack as he processes my words. “I see what you did there. The sandman for dreams.”
“It amused me.”
He steps around the counter and hands me a card. “The library is on the other side of the school. It’s probably closed because Ms. Aberdeen is over a hundred, and she often forgets to open it or she falls asleep in one of the leather chairs.”
“You’re serious?” I take the card with a number on it.
“That’s her number. Leave a message. She’s pretty good about calling people back.”
“When she’s awake?” I tuck the card into a pocket as Arlo backs away. “Thanks.”
“Yep.” He nods, rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands in his pockets.
An awkward silence settles over us, and I’m not sure how to handle it. “Right, so I’m going to go.”
“Oh!” He jumps out of his skin. “Of course.”
I stand as he backs toward the door, feelings strange at leaving this man, but that makes no sense.
“Birdie.” The nickname sends a thrill of warmth through my body, and on autopilot, I turn around. “Ah, your number?”
“Are you asking me for my phone number, Arlo?” I can feel my lips stretching across my face.
“For the car. For updates, you know?” He scratches his neck as a flush blooms on his cheeks right above the line of his beard. “So I can reach you and let you know what’s going on.”
“All right, Mr. Grumpy.” I reach for a rogue pen on the counter and scribble my number across another card, one for his garage.
“I’m not grumpy.” That snaps him out of his soft, empathetic mood. “I just understand what it feels like when plans go awry.”
I tap the card on the desk, humming under my breath.
“See ya around, Arlo.” With a teasing smile, I head out into the cold, pulling my phone from my pocket then hitting the little icon with my brother’s smiling face.
Red hair curls around his head like a halo, and a neatly trimmed beard highlights his jaw.
Although he has ski goggles on, I know beneath those lenses his eyes are a brilliant green, like freshly cut grass.
I always despised those eyes. I wanted green eyes and red hair.
Instead, I got brown curls, freckles, and brown eyes.
Lark is a perfect blend of our family. Though I’m supposed to give credit to her biological father, I like the idea that I can see my brother in her as well.
I press the receiver to my ear, and the phone rings a few times before he picks up. “Yo, Wren, you got lost, didn’t you?”
“Of course not.” Looking both ways, I cross the street, heading toward the school. Most of the people who live here walk, so there are few cars that rumble down the streets.
“Oh, you did. How bad is it? Where are you?” I hear him moving around, probably already preparing for the worst. I can picture him packing his bags, ready to come to my rescue.
“I’m in a little town called Silent Springs.”
“Sounds like it belongs in a Hallmark movie.”
“No, it’s totally a Lifetime town.” I can just make out an old-school sign down the street that says, “Doctor’s Office.”
“Oh, do tell.” My brother’s love for sappy romantic comedies is on par with my love of all things spooky.
“Well, the backdrop is a mountain.”
“Pin your location so I can visit you.”
A surprised laugh burbles out of me. Leave it to my brother to be ready to rush off into the unknown. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good adventure—mostly because I get lost more often than not—but another part of me longs for a place to call home. “There’s a roundabout with a park in the center.”
“That seems dangerous.”
“Well, I’ve been standing in the middle of the road this entire time and not one car has passed me. Everyone walks.” I hop onto the white sidewalk, noticing an apple tree shifting in the warm wind.
“Really?” I can hear the awe in his voice. “It’s sucking you in already. I’m on my way.”
With a laugh, I decide it’s best to fill him in on our predicament.
I run through every little moment, leaving nothing out as I sit on the chilly steps of the school.
People gradually begin to mill about, store signs drift upward, and stalls are rolled out onto the street.
The deeper and deeper I get into my tale, the more I spill my personal feelings to Robin.
My thoughts and impressions about our situation pour from me as I share everything I felt this morning and last night.
All the while, the town wakes and comes alive in a way that only occurs in a storybook.
“Wren?” Robin’s voice turns soft. “You there?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you go?”
“This place…it’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before.” It’s as though I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole. Only in this story, I dove after a skunk and almost got hit by a tow truck.
“Ah, that’s the power of a small town and a tight-knit community.
There’s magic there that you wouldn’t anticipate.
We always want to dream of magic in a fairy-tale sense, but sometimes when we find where we belong, that magic unravels.
” His voice, with his deeper timbre and complete understanding, eases the tension inside of me.
Not quite ready to deal with that situation, I ask, “All right, what’s the game plan?”
“It’s simple, really.”
“Nothing is ever simple with you.”
“Pin your location, and I’ll see you for Thanksgiving.”
“I look forward to it.” I miss my little brother so much that it’s like a deep ache inside of me.
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” I exhale on a sigh.