Chapter 17
James stayed up late after Mariah fell asleep.
He took time to study her, to try to confirm if she was Anastasia. He knew now that her birthmark was exactly like Anastasia’s and in the same location. She had been scared before she had fallen asleep and he remembered that Anastasia had been scared on stormy nights when there were no lights.
It had been a phobia she had developed after she had spent a night alone in the woods running from his brother. The phobia had been especially bad when she was in an unfamiliar place. Mariah even slept like Anastasia, curled up in a ball.
But he couldn’t just tell Mariah about his hunch, that she was Anastasia Chandler, his childhood best friend. She might just find him obsessed and run out of his life. He didn’t want that, because whether she was Anastasia or not, he was falling hard for her.
After studying her for some time, he searched the property for more petrol, but couldn’t find any. He added more wood to the fire. He went to Edgar’s cottage, deep in the property, hoping the man would have returned from wherever he had gone, but no such luck.
The cottage was still locked and looked sad in the rain. He returned to the manor and checked for a signal on his phone again, but he had no luck there either. Tired and cold, he had fallen asleep next to Mariah by the warmth of the fire.
When he woke, he noticed that their flashlights were off—their phones had died overnight—and Mariah was awake. She was standing by the large windows of the living room. Her red curls were loose and tumbled down her shoulders. He thanked God for such a beautiful morning view and then asked what time it was. She couldn’t answer so he went to the car and turned on the engine.
From the dashboard, it read 10:23 AM. He marveled at how he had woken up so late. He seldom woke up later than 8 AM. Immediately he jumped into the business of the day. After a quick breakfast of more scones, he checked if there was running water in the house.
To his relief, water flowed freely from a tap by the shed. He found a bucket and handed it over to Mariah, telling her to freshen up while he went in search of help. When she said she wanted to go with him, he told her it was going to be a long walk and begged her to wait for him instead.
She protested and he gave her the keys to his car and his cell phone, telling her to plug it into his car. Her job, while she waited, was to try calling for help and ensure their phones had a little battery, in case they had to spend another night in the manor.
He only had one spare tire and two of his tires had been damaged by the bears. Attempting to drive any distance of the roads which were likely flooded in parts and slippery in other parts, was a bad idea.
He left Mariah and made a long lonely trek to the McCarthys, their next-door neighbors. Their property was as empty as his grandparents’ manor. He had found the cast iron gate locked. He had called and called but no response had come.
When it became clear he had to walk for hours to get help, he groaned and thought about going back to get his car, then he remembered his flat tires and continued on his trek.
He walked around in the blistering afternoon sun and went to two more properties, leaving a note in one, before realizing that not many people lived in this rural area anymore. Most of the manors were relics or served as summer homes to those who owned them—and this was spring.
If he wanted help, he might have to walk to town, but that was going to be a trek he would do after he had rested and had something to eat, so he turned back and made his way back to the Sorenson manor.
He didn’t expect Mariah to be up and about, but seeing her gave him a sense of fulfillment. It felt like being stuck at the manor wasn’t that bad as long as it was with her.
At a distance, he saw her pacing the front steps. She looked cute walking up and down the steps—cute yet frustrated. He knew the feeling. He felt like he had used all his energy, but there was no solution to their situation.
She stopped her pacing when he emerged from the cover of the trees. She ran down the stairs and met him halfway across the driveway, right by the fountain. Her red curls framed her heart-shaped face and her glasses sat on her button nose. Her brown eyes shone golden in the sunlight, full of worry and questions, and her pink lips gleamed as she spoke.
“Any success?” she asked him, reminding him of his fruitless trek.
He shook his head and walked towards the front steps. She followed him. “You?” he asked her as they reached the steps.
“Still no signal,” she answered, placing her hands on her hips. He was drawn to them instantly. He couldn’t help but notice how curvy she was, and he stifled a laugh when he thought how skinny little Anastasia had become this curvy. “But I did manage to get our phones powered,” she continued forcing him to focus on the present.
“We might have to risk it and drive the car to—” he began.
“With the busted tires?!” Mariah protested. Some people were cautious of potential danger, Mariah was one of them. But they couldn’t waste time sitting down on their butts.
No serious search would start until forty-eight hours passed and with no signals on their phones, he wondered how anyone would find them.
“You are right, Driving wouldn’t work,” he sighed, “the road is littered with debris the storm worked up. Driving on it with busted tires would be an invitation for something bad to happen.”
“So, what do we do now?” Mariah said, sitting down on the edge of the fountain beside him.
There was only one thing to do, sit and wait. Either someone would notice that he hadn’t returned or Edgar would return. The man probably got stuck somewhere due to the storm.
James flashed Mariah a smug smirk and said, “There is only one thing left to do. I still have two jars of honey the bears did not get inside my car. How about we each chug down a jar, get sugar high, and burn off the sugar by running back home.”
The purpose of his statement was fulfilled when Mariah cracked a smile, and then laughter bubbled from her lips. His smile widened and he teased, “What? It’s a solid plan, and it would work.”
“Yeah,” Mariah nodded between fits of laughter. “Sure, it would.”
“Reasons why I don’t share my plans with the world,” he shrugged. “They never believe me. Fine, forget my plan. Now go show me where you dropped the bucket, I gave you. I think I need to wash away the sting of a rejected plan.”
“Sure thing,” Mariah said still trying to stifle laughter.
She rose to her feet and James followed suit. She led him to the shed—laughing and teasing him about his plan all the way—and showed him the bucket. James shooed her away once the bucket was in his possession and took a quick shower behind the shed.
It was not the best or cleanest shower he had taken but it was better than keeping all the sweat and dust of the past hours on his skin. He changed into a spare shirt and pants he always kept in the trunk of his car in the event something spilled on his clothes before a meeting.
By the time he returned to the front steps, Mariah had spread out a makeshift meal, scones, apples, and surprise, honey! They ate the meal together regaling each other with their craziest college encounters with drunk people. James won with the craziest story involving him and a drunk professor.
After the meal, they went about the property searching for spare tires. They found some, but none would fit his car. Exhausted, they gave up and watched the sunset before retreating into the house. James lit the fireplace and they sat by the warmth of the fire until the night fell.
James took his phone out and tried to make a call, but there was still no signal. He returned to the room and turned on the flashlight of his phone—which was now, the only thing that the phone seemed to be good for. Mariah’s flashlight was on already. She curled up on the armchair, wrapped in his coat.
He lay on the marble floor by the fire, his hands behind his head for support. “I’ve got a good feeling about tomorrow,” he said with a yawn.
“You think so?” Mariah’s voice was small and doubtful.
“Yeah,” he assured her, “it would be our third day here, and three’s the charm. We’ll definitely find a way back tomorrow,” his words were to encourage him as much as they were for Mariah.
He was tired and hungry for something aside from apples. He felt grimy in his clothes and needed a hot shower. Tomorrow had to be the day for their rescue. He fell asleep holding onto that word.
James woke up to the warm rays of the sun on his face. The fire he slept beside had burnt down to ashes. It was radiating very little heat and Mariah was still asleep, curled up on the armchair.
He studied her sleeping face. She had a small smile on her lips and her eyelashes seemed long enough to almost kiss her cheeks. Her glasses lay on the floor by the phones which were still on.
James stretched and sat up, reaching for the phones. He switched them off and rose to his feet. Bright sunlight streamed from the tall windows in the room and he was transported back to the past when he spent holidays at the manor.
His grandmother, Evelyn Sorenson, would sit in the chair Mariah was curled up in and pull him onto her lap. He was only three years old then and was easy to hold. His mother would take a lower stool and sit by his grandmother’s side and they would talk about God while sipping sweet tea. Sometimes they would even sing.
Their voices echoed through his mind, and it was as if they were there again, sitting by the fireplace. However, when he turned, it was Mariah who was rousing from her sleep.
“What time is it?” she groaned, stretching like a cat.
James glanced at his phone and read the time. “9:14 AM.”
“Okay, there’s just something about this house that makes me sleep in,” Mariah yawned and rose to her feet. She picked up her glasses and put them on.
“You can say that again,” James laughed and walked over to her.
“What’s the plan for today?” she asked.
“The plan is we eat our last apples, lock up, and walk till we find another human being.”
“Sounds like a solid plan,” Mariah nodded. “I’ll carry the last of our food for the road. We might need that sugar rush after all. And what about a cellphone signal?”
“Nothing yet,” he sighed. “Shall we?”
“We shall,” Mariah beamed and followed him through the door to the antechamber.
They emerged to meet the bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds. The grass in the front yard gleamed bright green, and the branches of the trees swayed with a lazy breeze.
Birds chirped and the statue in the fountain glimmered in the sunlight. It was a beautiful day. Too bad James would be leading Mariah on a trek, instead of taking her on a picnic to enjoy the day.
They made quick work of the apples, closed the front door, and began their walk. As they walked, he showed her the different houses and told her stories of the people who lived on the street.
In no time, they were at a T-junction. Winded, they paused a bit.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Mariah said. Taking deep breaths. She dropped to the grass by the road. Her hair was up in a ponytail again and her sleeveless black dress was a bit dusty from their stay at the manor and their trek.
His trench coat was no longer in her possession. He had tied it around his waist instead.
“We still have, give or take two miles—hey,” he paused walking to stand in the middle of the road. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Mariah asked, rising to her feet.
James listened intently to the sound the lazy breeze brought him. It sounded like a vehicle off in the distance. The topography of the area was flat—so he should be able to spot it soon. They walked on the road towards it, but there was a sharp bend down the road that obscured the vehicle until it rounded the bend.
“A truck!” Mariah cheered, finally seeing the car from her angle. “Yes!” she laughed and rushed towards him in a hug. He hadn’t known she could exert such a quick and forceful action and had to dig in his heel to avoid toppling over. “That was some prediction you made yesterday,” she muttered, still hugging him.
“Yeah, it was,” he laughed and waved his hand that was not held in Mariah’s hug. He waved it high for the driver to see. The car slowed and James smiled.
“We get to go home,” Mariah said breaking the hug.
“And a certain groundskeeper is about to get fired. I’m curious to see what excuse Edgar would give,” James laughed as the truck rolled to a stop by their side of the road. “It had better be good.”