Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Frozen in fear, I watch in horror, unable to look away. Smoke billows up from the ground. The wail of emergency vehicles snaps me out of my stupor.
No, I take control of the dream. I won’t relive this again. The thought frees me from the imagery playing on a loop. Swimming to the surface of consciousness, I feel the lingering remnants of guilt and sorrow. Sweat-soaked and breathing fast, I hear Jared’s voice echoing in my mind.
Korren, what did you do?
Rolling onto my back, I struggle to calm my rapid breathing. The emotional hangover zaps the rest I’d gotten. Running a hand down my face, I slow my breathing. I’m here in Chance Falls.
I inhale the clean linen scent of the candle on my nightstand. The gray t-shirt material of the sheets is soft against my skin. I allow the sensation to ground me in my body. The red digital numbers read 4:30. Peering out the window, I make out the edge of the woods in the pre-dawn light.
The night sky is lightening, slowly yielding to the day. Finding a steady breathing pattern, I focus on the birds’ chittering and singing melodies. The trees rustle as branches shake beneath small animals, probably squirrels.
Nature brings me deep, instant peace. It’s the furthest away from the hustle and bustle of the airport that was once my life.
More relaxed, I sit up and throw off the blankets.
This room feels tainted by the memories that cling to me like cobwebs.
Impossible to see, they leave a sticky residue that makes my flesh pebble with goosebumps.
Sleep’s over, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, standing. I walk over to the window, careful to stay on the rug to avoid the cool wooden planks. At the window, I lift the latch and push it open, allowing the air to blow on my heated face. Taking lungfuls of fresh air, I clear my mind.
An unexplainable urge to be surrounded by the outdoors hit. Hurrying to the closet, I grab my black hoodie from the back of the chair in front of the oak desk and slip it over my head.
Away from the town, the two-bedroom cabin is an oasis. A bachelor’s pad decorated in warm wood, navy, and green walls and furniture, it’s got everything a single man needs. Beer, meat, and enough fruit and vegetables to maintain good health stock the fridge.
Stepping into my gym shoes, I make my way outside through the front door. Shutting it quietly behind me, I use the natural light to guide me down the stairs onto the well-kept dirt path through the woods. A powerful scent of pine sap and damp earth surrounds me.
Under the trees that tower over me, I realize I’m a small part of a whole.
Titling my face up toward the sunlight, which pierces the canopy above me, I bask in the long-sought-after peace.
The trail opens up to the lake, and I admire the pastel sky left in the wake of the bright orange orb ascending.
Sunlight dances off the water. Shiny spots draw my attention.
Narrowing my gaze, I try to discern the source.
Are there minerals in the water? Moving closer, I squat down.
Why do the glimmers look alive? Remembering my grandparent’s belief that deals were made with land spirits seems more plausible out here in nature.
“You’re up early.”
Startled, I jerk my head to the right. I glance over and spot a dark-haired man with icy blue eyes. He has the odd characteristic of agelessness. With his sharp features, unblemished skin, and odd accent, he could be in his late twenties or ancient. Odd thought.
“I could say the same for you.” Where did he come from? Craning my neck, I try to figure out a path that was out of my line of vision. “I didn’t think my uncle had neighbors nearby.”
The man laughs. The sound echoes in the surrounding space.
“My home is a fair distance away, but I like to come here from time to time. Change of scenery and all that.”
“Huh. I don’t think I’ve seen you in town.”
“No,” he agrees. Amused, he doesn’t offer more information. Tilting his head, he studies me. “You came here looking for a new start,” he mumbles.
I frown. Who is this man? “How did you know that?”
“Chance Falls has a way of helping people heal and start over.”
“Is that what happened for you?”
His lips quirk up. “Not exactly. My family goes back a long way. We keep to ourselves and live on the far side of the forest.”
Words scratch at my brain. There’s something about that side of the forest. My family told me about it when I was a child. Unable to put my finger on it, I let it go. I need to look into old-growth.
“So, I’m talking to Chance Falls royalty?”
He throws his head back and gives a deep belly laugh that sounds strangely musical. “My brother would say yes.”
His joy is infectious. My spirits lift instantly. “Any tips for someone new to town?”
“Know you’ve come here for a reason. Trust your gut, and remember, here anything is possible.
Chance Falls is a place of endless possibilities.
The only limitations are the ones you place on yourself.
If you trust in the Falls, you’ll be shocked by what can happen.
This town needs new life to continue to flourish.
It picked you for a reason.” I think of the waterfall I hadn’t visited in some time. Maybe it’s time for a hike.
“Picked me?”
“Some say this town chooses its stewards.” He makes the place sound alive. There’s a strangeness to him. He feels more like a guardian of the forest than a townsman.
“In life it’s important to speak your mind.”
My phone rings, distracting me. My father’s name appears on the screen.
“Hey. How did you?” I turn and find emptiness where the man once stood. Slowly spinning in a circle, I bring the phone to my ear. “Hey, Dad.”
“Morning. Sounds like you’re already up and about.”
“Yeah. I was admiring the sunrise by the lake.”
“It’s beautiful out by the cabin.”
“It is.” I scan the area for signs of the stranger.
“You sound”—Dad hesitates—“better.”
“Being here’s been good for me.”
He exhales. “I’m glad to hear that. You don’t have to keep hiding away up there. Things have died down. Three months is plenty of time. I know you just started helping Ralph at the shop, but he’d understand.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Picking up a smooth stone, I skip it across the lake.
“Aren’t you?”
I watch the water ripple and reign in the ire my father stirred. “No. I’m creating a new life. One that moves slower and revolves around what’s important.”
“You spent over fifteen years building your career. I know what you went through was traumatic.”
I give a short laugh that shatters the stillness. “You have no idea what this year did for me. My life fell apart, Dad, when someone pulled one thread. You don’t see a problem with that?”
“No one can plan for a situation like that—”
“No. But I’d wrapped my entire identity into one thing. It’s not who I want to be anymore.”
“And a video clerk is?”
“A business manager on the road to be a co-owner,” I correct him.
“You have so much more potential than that, Korren.”
“I’m sorry if the decisions I’m making disappoint you, Dad. But I’m doing what’s best for me.”
“People know the truth now. It’ll be different,” my father insists.
“I am where I want to be. It’s you who needs you to respect the boundaries I’ve set in place.” I hold my space.
“Maybe one last interview to clear the air.”
“No. No more TV footage. People will believe what they want.” I never thought of myself as a people-pleaser. But it’s always been different with my father. As the only child, all my expectations were placed firmly on my shoulders. I’m done twisting myself up to be what he wants me to be.
He releases a deep breath. “I’ll drop it for now.”
“That’s all I ask. How are you and Mom doing?” I switched the topic to a less volatile one.
He answers begrudgingly, and we muddle through a conversation. I hate how clunky things have become. I keep waiting for him to accept that things have changed, but he remains firmly rooted in the past.
Ending the conversation, I leave the shore behind, ready to show him my new vision for the small family business.
Instead of discouraging me, his doubt stokes the fire under me.
Slowly retracing my steps, I continue to glance over my shoulder, wondering about the mysterious man with an otherworldly aura and strangely accurate advice.
The place has more layers than a seven-layer bean dip, and I plan to spend the rest of my life exploring them. Eventually, I’ll come face-to-face with my past again, but that time is not today.
A few hours later, I’m in Reel Haven taking measurements and sifting through color squares. Overhead lights flicker, and I stop scribbling. The bell rings as Phil enters, hefting a forest-green gumball machine. The Reel Haven logo scrawled down the side of the machine.
Grinning, I set down the samples and rush over. “What is this?”
Hooking her thumbs in the pockets of her strawberry-themed overalls, she watches me run my hand over the machine. I smirk at the pink combat boots peeking out from the wide-legged pants.
“I have a bunch of capsules you can fill with movie genres, too. People can turn the handle, and one will drop. Maybe you can give them a discount or a free movie?” She ducks her head. “Whatever you think works best.” Her gruff tone is at odds with the excitement I see bubbling beneath the surface.
“This is incredible.”
“Yeah?” She angles her head to look at me. “You like it?”
“I do. It’s going to bring people in for sure. How did you get this done in such a short time?”
She furrows her brow. “It took a week; that’s not that quick.”
“Maybe not to you. Even with a month, I couldn’t get this up and running.”
Her lips twitch.
“It’s going to bring in a lot of customers.”
“Good. I need to get back to my shop. I’m still working on end-cap ideas.”
She’s all business with her aloof mannerisms and cool tones. It makes me itch. I want to see the fire I know lives at her core.
Hurrying away from the gumball machine after her, I stretched out the conversation. “Remember, you owe me a membership.”
“Pretty sure I politely declined. Should I do it rudely this time?” She moves toward the door.
“Hard pass. Do you need any more info about the updates here?” I ask.
Opening the door, she speaks softly, “No. I have my notes from our last conversation.”
I search my brain for a way to make her linger.
“If it isn’t the two people I’ve been searching for,” the mayor calls from ten feet away.
Her sleek black pantsuit and high heels don’t fit with the small-town vibe.
After years in a high-level position, I know designer clothing when I see it.
The bronze-skinned woman with a low bun has a look of fierce determination on her heart-shaped face.
We both return her wave.
Phil grimaces.
Is there something wrong with this woman?
“Should I be worried?” I ask the mayor as she arrives in front of us.
“No, not at all.” She places a hand out in front of her. “We want our newest member of town and our returned creator to open the Lantern Festival.”
“I don’t think—” Phil begins.
“It’s perfect. The ultimate show of forgiveness. This will certainly put the unfortunate rumors to rest. I know business has slowed because of it.”
Phil’s shoulders slump, and her cheeks pinken.
“It’s a win-win. Seeing you two involved will show the younger generation that not all traditions are lame.” Mayor Branch’s enthusiasm wanes briefly. “The attendance has been low in recent years.” Sadness turns the corners of her lips down.
Phil’s demeanor softens. “I don’t know how much my presence will help.”
Mayor Branch perks up. “Our best and brightest returning to us is a good thing. It shows the younger ones there’s a future to be had here.” The mayor lifts her chin stubbornly.
“I’m sorry,” I interrupt. “What’s the Lantern Lighting Festival?”
“I’ll leave Phil to explain everything. I’m still completing some last-minute details. We’ll see both of you at the committee tonight. Seven p.m. sharp.”
She exists in a cloud of white diamonds that reminds me of my Nan. Do they even still sell that? Groaning, Phil rubbed her temples.
“Chance Fall’s black hole strikes again,” she mutters.
“Is this event strenuous?” I imagine back-breaking work, heat from the lanterns, and peopling galore.
“You have no clue what you’re in for, newbie.” She snickers.
“Is that a threat or a promise, Pepper?” I smile. Entranced by her burst of joy I tilt my head to admire her.
“Ready or not, we’ll find out in a few hours.” She points at me. “The committee meets in the town hall. I’ll swing by and grab you at six-thirty.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” Her voice drips with sarcasm, but I meant it.