Chapter 14 #2
“The thing is,” I say, “we kind of have a new problem.”
“You mean besides the flooding?” Rose asks.
“Well, remember how I said I thought I saw something in the water last night?”
“Yeah. Yep. Hard to forget that.”
“Soooo, it’s back. And it’s kind of got its tentacles wrapped around the lighthouse right now. Anyway, we’re baking that bread.”
“What do you mean it has its tentacles wrapped around the lighthouse?” Posey’s voice crackles over the speaker and I wince at the sheer volume of it.
“Yeah, you’re on speakerphone,” Rose says. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know how else to explain it,” I say. “It’s got tentacles, it’s wrapped around the lighthouse, its eye is glowing. It’s freaking us out. Well—”
Caleb shakes his head.
“Not Caleb. It’s freaking me out a little bit,” I say and Gunner barks. “It’s not freaking Gunner out either.”
“I’m not freaked out at all,” Gunner yells.
The phone goes quiet.
“Did Gunner just talk?”
“Is Caleb there?” Rose whispers, sounding absolutely scandalized.
“OK, so the thing is—”
“Uh, you told him?” Hazel interrupts. “Good for you, Ivy. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“A bit rude,” I tell her. “Can we concentrate?”
“There’s a kraken. Or is it an octopus?” Posey says, the voice of reason as always.
“It’s a kraken,” I tell her. “Right, there’s a kraken around the lighthouse and y’all are worried about Gunner talking? Priorities, ladies.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Hazel says.
“We baked the bread,” I say, hoping they understand it. “Well, let me clarify. The bread is in the oven baking.”
“You think that the kraken wants bread?” Hazel says. “They eat fish.”
“Did you guys not tell her anything?” I ask.
“Well, excuse us for being very concerned about the fact that her ankle is swollen up like a purple grapefruit and that you didn’t return any of our phone calls during a massive surprise storm and flood,” Posey snips.
“What does the bread have to do with anything?” Hazel asks, sounding both perplexed and let down.
“We found a scrapbook in the attic late last night, Hazel, and we were going to ask you about it and show it to you when you got home, and then this whole mess happened. OK? Honestly, please take a look at it and see if you can find anything about what’s going on in the town.
Everything’s been weird. Can y’all catch her up…
please,” I tack on the politeness, trying and failing to hide how exasperated I am with both Posey and Rose.
“The three of you could have figured something out by now.”
“Be nice,” Gunner snaps at me. “Turn up the volume so I can hear them!”
I give Gunner a warning look, push the speakerphone button, then pinch the bridge of my nose, frustrated and trying to ignore the fact that there’s a sucker-lined tentacle sliding across the window and that Caleb seems torn between laughter and complete exasperation.
“Fine,” I tell them, trying to modulate my tone and ending up sounding as perky as a Muppets character.
“I’m just slightly concerned about the fact that there is a kraken with tentacles around the lighthouse.
We have flooded streets and apparently there’s some sort of magical ward that we need to repair. ”
The sound of a scuffle comes over the speakerphone, and I hear my sisters squabbling before Hazel’s voice comes over the phone.
“If you would have listened to me then, you would have heard me say that I picked up a book on runes. And most of those runes are guess what for? Wards. Huh. Maybe you should actually listen to your baby sister for once instead of ignoring her.”
Posey’s voice comes over the speakerphone, but it sounds further away. “You need to get off your ankle, Hazel,” she shouts.
Hazel hustles to the phone, and I pinch the bridge of my nose even harder, like that’s going to stop the chaos from happening. It never has before, but maybe it will today.
“All right. A book on runes,” I repeat, sounding like an overworked kindergarten teacher. “And wards. That’s fabulous. There is a picture of the rune we saw in the scrapbook next to the bread recipe. Do you think you could look at—”
“Of course I can,” Hazel interrupts me. “I have the book right here. I just got it from my backpack and I’m coming back downstairs to do it with the scrapbook.”
“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” I hear, and this time it’s Rose yelling at her, Fig chittering in the background, and I get the distinct impression that Posey’s ferret is also angry from the squeaking noises that are coming and barely audible.
Gunner covers his eyes with his paws and I let out a slow breath, trying very hard not to sound as frustrated as I am with Hazel.
“OK, that is so helpful, Hazel, and I missed you so much. I’m so sorry that I ended up stuck at the lighthouse.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m glad that you’re with Caleb. We’re all sick of tiptoeing around the fact that you’ve been in love with him your entire life and never did anything about it.”
“Oh God,” I murmur. “You’re on speakerphone, Hazel.”
The phone goes quiet, save for the sounds of Fig and Oatmeal bickering in the background.
“Oh,” says Hazel. “Hi, Caleb. Uh, forget I said any of that. I was just teasing her, you know. Just sister stuff.”
“Hi again, Hazel,” Caleb says, and I can’t decide if I’m going to laugh or scream, but maybe both. Maybe both would be good in this instance. I’m not really sure.
“Hazel, does your book say anything about resetting runes and wards?” I interrupt.
“I think it does, but I didn’t get that far in it. I was really just trying to learn about how to do some cool things with my car. Um, and then, you know, I was going to come home and talk to you guys about it because I think maybe this is something that I could be really good at.”
“That is honestly fantastic news, and I could hug you for the rest of my life.”
“I might have a problem with that,” Caleb interrupts.
I purse my lips and I cannot deny that there is heat rising all the way up my chest to my face. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the roots of my hair were smoking slightly at this point.
“OK, well it sounds like we have a plan,” I say, steering the conversation back on track. “I’m gonna finish baking the bread. I have a slight idea of what to do with it now and then I think maybe we need to get that rune back up. Shit, what time is it? I don’t even know.”
“It’s just after 1:00 AM,” Posey shouts, the phone’s speaker crackling at her volume. I wince. “But that’s fine. We’re all awake. We love this. We’re night owls.”
“No, we don’t,” Rose says. “I’m tired. You worked me to the bone today, Ivy.”
“I did not,” I say, and then I swallow another exasperated sigh. At this point I’m not sure how I’m even breathing anymore because all I seem to be doing with my sisters on the phone is sighing.
“Fine. Make more bread. Research the ward. We will try to keep the kraken from tearing the lighthouse off the rock.”
“It’s not going to tear the lighthouse off the rock,” Caleb interrupts again. “That’s physically impossible.”
I hold up a hand before he can start a TEDTalk on turn of the century lighthouse construction. Which, while interesting, and maybe even sexy under different circumstances, is decidedly unhelpful.
“Right. Call me back when you’re done,” I say, and then I close the call before anyone can say anything else. I throw my phone into my purse then toss it back onto the floor. I kick it once for good measure.
“Did that help?” Caleb asks, sounding genuinely amused.
“No. And now I’m annoyed.”
I stomp over to where my purse landed, pick up the tube of lip gloss that had the audacity to roll across the floor when I kicked it, and grab my phone.
“I need to charge this,” I say, “and I’m sorry it’s so late.”
“Are you seriously apologizing for a freak storm and a freak magical kraken?”
“Yeah, I sure am,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I have a feeling that I have something to do with this and that I probably could have prevented it from happening. I don’t know how.
And I have no idea how I could have prevented it, but I have a feeling this has something to do with me and my family. In fact I’m sure it does.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s your fault, Ivy,” Caleb says. “You have to stop doing this. You’ve always done this. And I have always wondered if that’s why you wouldn’t let me get close to you.”
I pause.
Caleb goes silent.
Gunner refuses to look at either one of us.
A tentacle slaps the window wetly.
“Um, how’s the bread?” I manage.
“Ivy, we have to talk about this sooner or later.”
“I think probably later as we’re — and I’d like to schedule it. I can put it, you know, in my calendar. I can pencil you in. I can make an Apple event, whatever you need. Maybe Google. Maybe we can Zoom.”
“We’re not Zooming. You can’t unsay what we said earlier. You’re gonna have to deal with it.”
“I’m dealing with it,” I say.
“You’re shutting down just like you did before. I’m not gonna let you shut down, Ivy. Not after what you told me and not after that kiss. So if you need to shut down right now to get through whatever—”
He motions to the tentacles sloppily sliding across the glass and the behemoth glowing eye in the bay in a vague, unconcerned way that frankly is totally bizarre considering what he’s already digested tonight.
“Whatever this is,” he continues, “then I understand that. But this conversation is not done, and you better believe that now that I know how you feel and that you’ve apparently been in love with me this whole time that I will crack that hard little shell around your heart.”
“Oh, is that right?” I say, sounding totally ridiculous like an angry teenager.
“Oh, that’s right,” he responds, and for a second I wonder if we’re going to start poking each other in the chest.
“Fine,” I say.
“Fine,” he agrees. “You’re adorable when you’re mad.”
Then he grins. And just like that, it’s fine. Truly. Not just in the way that you say fine when you’re still mad at somebody, but fine in the way that means maybe I’m OK with somebody finally cracking the shell of ice around me. Maybe this is what Noona meant when she said the storm starts inside.
“Do you think this is my fault?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” he says.
“The storm.”
“Is that how magic works?”
“It’s never worked like that before.”
“Have you considered therapy?” he says.
“What?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“Yeah. Have you considered talking to somebody about how you can blame yourself for everything from a freak storm to a giant, massive magical kraken? Is there like a witchy therapist you could go see?”
“Are you trying to say you think I’m mentally unstable?”
“Therapy is not just for anyone who’s mentally unstable, although I think most people are. Therapy is for anybody who needs to talk about how they feel and is afraid to do that.”
“Do you see a therapist?” I ask, genuinely intrigued.
“Yeah, I absolutely do. And I’ve seen Dr. Avedas for the past seven years.”
“Helps a lot, huh?” I say.
“It does. Imagine that. If you can.” He winks at me, and I cannot believe he’s baiting me about therapy and it’s working.
Another tentacle slaps the wall, and this time the very skinny end of it taps on the windowpane like someone’s knocking.
“Do you think it wants to talk?” I ask, tilting my head at it.
“How am I supposed to know?” Caleb spreads his hands wide in confusion.
“You do coastal conservation,” I say. “You said you could solve problems. It’s knocking on the window. What if it doesn’t want to pull us into the ocean? What if it just wants, like, to hang out?”
“You think a giant kraken wants to hang out?”
“Well, I don’t know,” I say. “I’ve never hung out with a kraken, giant or otherwise.”
“Are you trying to say you want to go outside in the storm and talk to a giant kraken whose tentacles are wrapped around the lighthouse?”
“I mean, I don’t want to do that,” I tell him. “That’s not something that I’m eagerly signing up to do. It’s not like something that I’ve dreamed about doing. ‘Oh yes please, I’d like to discuss my car’s extended warranty with a kraken during a freak thunderstorm.’”
He laughs, and I scowl at him before continuing.
“But I’m trying to figure out what the heck is going on here. And we’ve got an animal that seems to be trying to get our attention outside with a giant eyeball. And I don’t know about you, but if I think there’s a giant brain in there to match that giant eyeball, doesn’t that just make sense?”
Caleb looks at me for a long beat. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yeah, it might make a strange, weird kind of sense. But you have to consider that I just found out that dogs can talk and magic is real, so my barometer for what makes sense might not be completely on track tonight.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “All right. Where’s that heinous fashion crime of a yellow raincoat?”