Chapter 6
Thunder rumbled, shaking the walls of the room as raindrops pelted down the windows. The storm raged outside, rattling the furniture of the small room. A wardrobe and matching dresser were on the west wall. Cosmetics were arranged on top of the dresser, and a mirror hung behind it. Next to the dresser, a door stood slightly ajar. A pink bathtub could be seen gleaming through the opening.
On the east wall were two windows. Between the windows stood a large, study table covered with folders, from which papers with sketches of buildings peeked out. The low shelves next to the table were lined with books: novels, comics, textbooks, and magazines. At the edge of the room, wedged against a wall, was a narrow bed. Underneath the rumpled purple sheets was Mariah.
Next to her bed was a bedside table with a lamp on it that was turned on. Her hair was done in a braid, and the few strands that escaped stuck to her wet skin. She tossed underneath the sheets, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest. Thunder cracked through the sky again, and she muttered in her sleep--a low, scared cry.
Her eyes squeezed shut tighter, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her fists gripped the pillow with all her strength. Lightning flashed, shining its silver light across her face, and she squirmed. Thunder followed the lightning, and she shot up from sleep.
“Jamie!” she screamed as her eyes opened. “Jamie…” her breathing slowed, and her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, darting around to realize she was in bed, in her room. She fell back with a sigh.
It was just a bad dream, Mariah. Just a bad dream.
And it was fading rapidly from her mind. She ran a hand over her hair and sat back up again, trying to recall what the dream had been about.
Bits and pieces flashed through her mind: a thunderstorm–she quickly realized she might have dreamt it because it was raining outside. She had also dreamt about a pink backpack smeared with mud and voices calling out for her.
She hadn”t seen the faces of most the people calling. She could only see a boy with green eyes running towards her. She didn”t remember why people were looking for her, but she did remember crying out to the boy softly. She had called him ‘Jamie’.
But what had happened to me?
She tried to remember, but a searing pain shot across her temples. Wincing, she rolled off the bed and made for the door opposite the bed. She caught her reflection in the mirror on the dresser and yawned. Although she had just woken up from sleep, she felt tired and stressed out.
Her Minnie Mouse pajama shorts were wrinkled, and her camisole stuck uncomfortably to her skin. She turned the knob of the door and walked into a narrow hallway with two openings at each end. One led to the tiny kitchen. The other led to the living room.
She walked to the kitchen and was welcomed by slippery orange tiles. She held herself up by the sink and helped herself to a glass of water.
From her kitchen window, she saw the horizon. Regardless of the rain, the sun bloomed like a flower, painting the dawn sky with orange and yellow.
Morning already? She sighed before remembering it was Saturday.
She didn”t have to go to work, but she still had to finish up her floor-by-floor sketches of the inside of the house. Stifling another yawn, she deposited the empty cup on the table and exited the kitchen.
Back in her room, she walked into the pink bathroom and splashed water on her face. The water was cool on her skin, like the storm that had raged in her dream. The dream had felt so real. She shivered and wiped her face dry with a towel. She returned to her bed, hoping to catch a little more sleep. She stretched like a cat underneath the blanket and listened to the storm outside her window until her eyelids grew heavy again. Finally, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, sunlight streamed through the windows. Turning to the clock by her bed stand, she read the time. It was 10:17. She groaned and rolled out of bed. She went through her day with a certain grogginess that she didn’t understand the source of.
Nevertheless, she pushed through. By 3 pm, she was halfway through the sketches and had finished up a presentation she had for the upcoming week. She was sitting at the drawing table in her living room, dressed in light jeans and a purple shirt.
Her phone beeped on the coffee table. She stood up from the drawing table, which was by the window, and crossed the room to grab it. She smiled as she read James’s text that he was outside her house. Her face heated up as memories of their last meeting flooded her mind.
After their surprise trip to the mall for a fashion makeover, and his bizarre comment about her reminding him of Anastasia, they had had lunch together. As they ate, James had talked more about the orphanage.
He had told her that he wanted a large playground on the property. As her company representative on the job, she was obligated to get as much information about what he wanted as she could to eventually leave him a satisfied customer.
When she had asked if he had any particular design in mind for the playground, he had asked her what her Saturday afternoon was like. She had answered him honestly that she had nothing planned other than catching up on work. He had offered to show her what he had in mind for the playground.
After lunch, James had dropped her off at her office, still dressed like a supermodel. He had promised to pick her up on Saturday, and she had accepted the offer gratefully. Her car was still at the repair shop, waiting on parts the mechanic had ordered.
Now, just after getting his text, she looked out her window. She spotted a familiar brown-haired man stepping out of a baby-blue… Lamborghini?!
She grabbed her satchel and hurried to meet him. She flew down the stairs and met James by the door to her apartment building. He flashed her a smile when she emerged, and she admired his sense of fashion. He dressed casually for the occasion, in black jeans, black shoes, a black tee shirt, and a tan jacket.
“A Lambo?” she scoffed in response to his smile. “Really? What happened to keep it casual?”
“The day started with a storm,” he defended, opening the door for her. “Just wanted to brighten up my surroundings. Besides, a Lambo is casual.”
“Whatever you say,” Mariah laughed. “So where is this amazing playground? Where are we going?” she asked as James slid into the driver’s seat.
“Patience, young pup,” his eyes twinkled with mischief. “The first step in creativity is building anticipation of what the day holds.”
“Sure,” Mariah chuckled, putting on her seat belt. “Says the one who has a daily itinerary read to him every morning by his assistant.”
“It’s difficult being me, Mariah,” James shrugged, his lips widening in a smile. “Now sit back and enjoy the ride,” he ordered and started the engine.
As they drove, she leaned her head on the glass and watched the city go by. She didn”t have much of a social life outside work or church. She rarely got to enjoy Washington, DC, and just take in the fact that she lived in the nation’s capital. They drove past the lights and sounds of the city into the quiet suburbs and entered a neighborhood of large, elegant family homes. The sounds of children playing and riding bikes filled the air. James stopped at a park near a wooded area and killed the engine.
When she glanced at the park and the woods behind it, a shiver ran down Mariah’s spine. She didn”t like how thick the wood looked but quelched her thoughts when James exited the car with a smile. He opened the door for her, and she stepped out. “So where is this playground?” she asked.
“Patience, Mariah,” he said and offered her his arm. She took it, letting out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding. Then he took her in the opposite direction of the park, towards a high brownstone fence and a large gate. “This was the prison I spent my childhood and teens at.”
“Prison? But it says Ashton McKellen Academy,” she said, studying the crest that decorated the two doors of the gate.
“That’s what they want you to think,” James leaned closer to her ear to whisper. “Take it from me–it’s a prison. But it has the most eccentric playground in the state. Come.”
They walked the length of the fence until they came to where a large willow tree was growing inside the fence. One of its large branches hung over the fence, nearly obscuring it. “Here we are,” James said, leading her around the thick branch to reveal a crack in the wall. It was wide enough to let a person her size slip through. She looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. “Go on,” he urged. “I’ll meet you inside.”
Mariah shook her head furiously. “No way! We would be trespassing.”
James only smiled and eyed the wall. In one fluid motion, he raised himself onto it and was smiling at her from his seat on top of the wall. “No, we would be sightseeing. Now c’mon,” he motioned and disappeared over the wall with a leap onto the property.
Mariah snorted in disbelief and slipped through the crack. She found James waiting for her at the other side, with an impish grin on his face. “Now was that so hard?”
“I could lose my job if I get caught trespassing,” she whisper-yelled.
“You won”t get caught,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Now, look.” He tilted his head away from the willow tree. Mariah turned her gaze and let out a small gasp. They stood on a large green lawn, sparsely decorated with trees at intervals–Mariah counted five large trees. In the direct line of sight from the willow tree was a circular area that shone with sand.
Within this area sat, like an abandoned castle, a playground with wonderful structures big enough that even adults could play with them. Colorful swings, see-saws, merry-go-rounds, slides, trampolines, and a metal jungle gym with padded bars surrounded a large skateboarding rink. At the far side of the playground stood a real-life playhouse.
“Is that?” Mariah started running towards it automatically before she knew what she was doing. Something about the playground was eerily familiar to her. She was drawn to it like a magnet.
When she stopped in front of it, she realized that James was right beside her at the entrance of the playhouse.
“Whoa,” she breathed, ignoring the buzzing that now started in her head, as her brain raked around trying to figure out why the playground was familiar. “These kids are lucky,” she said, and she took a step inside.
It felt like the school had ordered a toy company to construct a life-size Barbie”s dream house for them for the kids to play in. It was a lot of pink and there was a lot of miniature furniture. She entered a room with a small round table and chair around it.
“Oh! I think this is where they have tea,” she giggled as the buzzing became louder. She ignored it.
Another room was empty save for two throne-like seats at one end. “I bet this is where they hold court,” she said, gripping the frame of the door as her vision blurred and the pain moved from the left side of her head to the front.
She paused, catching her breath as James walked to stand behind her. She schooled her features to not show that she was in distress. She had embarrassed herself in front of him enough. She didn’t want to do it again.
“When I went to school here, I had told the headmistress that this should be converted into a piano room. Care to know what she told me?”
“Normal people don”t have an entire room for a piano,” Mariah said, trying to sound cheerful. As she said it, she felt all her blood rushing to her head. “You could have been happy at court in this room. You could have played King James the Fifth, or Sir Jamie Sorenson, the valiant knight of Ashton land.”
James stiffened at her words, and her face blanched.
“What?” she asked, pushing herself from where she leaned by the door. “Is anything wrong?” She took a step towards him, and a searing pain pierced the back of her head. Her feet swayed, and she saw James reach for her just before the world went dark.