Awaken

Copyright © 2011 Rachel Humphrey – D’aigle No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form without written consent from the author and publisher. For additional information please

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Cover Photograph by Danielle Page Photography

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1

Colin Jacoby did not hear the morning birds chirping.

He did not feel the black fly tickling his arm, or the cool morning breeze blowing through his wavy, bowl-cut hair.

More importantly, however, is what he did not hear approaching.

A fallen tree branch, just a few feet away, snapped under stalking footsteps.

Colin’s head jerked up. His book slipped from his hands, falling onto the muddy ground, as the color drained from his face.

There was no escape.

Toady number one blocked him from the right, while toady number two blocked the left, leaving the head bully blocking the pathway in front.

A sheer granite rock towered behind Colin.

“Hi –hi guys,” he stammered, putting on a fake smile. “I see you’re all camping here again this summer, too.”

“Lucky us,” snarled the head bully bitterly. “Only thing good about it, is gettin’ to pound on little kids like you.” Colin could not decide if he should be more upset over the impending humiliation, or at being called a little kid.

“If you recall,” he began, hoping to distract them, “I believe I am actually older than the three of you.” He laughed nervously after he had said it.

1

The head bully was easily a foot taller and wider than Colin was. The bullies face boiled with rage as he furiously strode toward Colin, pushing him to the muddy ground.

His two toadies pointed and shrieked with laughter.

Colin, defeated, prepared for whatever was to come next: a mouthful of mud, a wedgie, or maybe this time, a black eye.

Then he saw it!

The thing Colin Jacoby dreaded the most.

The silhouette of a girl dressed in black.

“Not her too!” he uttered, letting his face fall into the mud.

The girl’s voice rang out tauntingly.

“I thought I made it clear that only I get to bully my little brother?” She stood atop a nearby tree stump, her flame-red hair blowing in the breeze.

The head bully jumped back, startled, dropping his smug grin.

“Meghan Jacoby. H-hey. We weren’t doin’ notin’.” He backed up a few steps and then added, “He fell on his own!” The bully then scurried off, his two toadies at his heels.

Meghan jumped off her perch with a satisfied smirk.

“I should have just given him two more black eyes,” she boasted. She held out her hand, offering to help her brother off the ground. “You can thank me any time, Little Bro.”

Colin stubbornly ignored the offer and dragged himself out of the mud. He collected his mud-ruined book and walked toward home. Meghan’s longer stride easily allowed her to catch up and she sauntered along side him.

“Okay. Fine. Don’t thank me.”

2

Colin still did not answer.

“Nice move by the way,” she continued, ignoring his brooding demeanor. Mockingly she repeated, “I think I am actually older than you… good way to get your head bit off, Little Bro.”

Colin stopped abruptly.

“I tried to block you,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, I sensed that. Why?”

“Maybe I am tired of having someone in my head all the time!”

“You think you’re tired of it! Your head is exhausting.”

“Then why don’t you stay out?”

“So you would rather have your face full of mud and your underwear pulled up over your head right now, then?”

Colin, now fuming, stormed away as fast as his short legs would allow him.

Could there be anything worse than his sister coming to his rescue? The fact that she was his younger sister (yes, by only two minutes, but still younger), would always make it worse!

“Ah! Will I ever grow?” he screamed silently, successfully blocking the thought from her.

As they neared the campsite, Meghan, sensing his irritation, attempted to smooth things over.

“Colin, we can’t help that we hear each other’s thoughts.

Just try a little harder to block me out if you don’t want me to hear.” It did not have the helpful effect that she had hoped it would.

Colin pushed past her and into their uncle’s travel trailer. Their uncle, Arnon Jacoby, sat inside, tinkering on 3

a toaster. His eyes widened at the sight of Colin, covered in mud, but before he could ask what had happened, Colin spat out, “Don’t ask!” and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Don’t tell me those same bullies are back again?” Arnon asked Meghan, when she entered a moment later. She nodded yes and sat down, helping herself to a glass of juice.

“I wonder if I should have a talk with their parents.”

“Yeah! If you wanna get him killed!” she scolded her uncle.

“You’re probably right,” he agreed after a moment.

“Oh, almost forgot,” said Meghan, as she uncovered a slow cooker and stirred the contents inside, “I ran into Kanda on my way to find Colin. She’s coming for breakfast.”

Meghan dropped the spoon into the slow cooker as a loud buzzer went off, startling her.

“I thought for sure I had fixed that,” exclaimed Arnon.

Meghan raced into the hallway opening the door to the dryer, instantly returning quiet to the trailer.

“Well, it’s at least drying now,” she yelled, grabbing the clothes. She threw the laundry on the kitchen table and deftly folded each item, except for her own. She put away her uncle’s and her brother’s, but when it came to her own she simply threw them on the floor, on top of another pile from a previous load.

Colin, fresh from showering, appeared in their shared room. He ignored Meghan, sulking his way to his dresser.

Each twin had a tall bunk bed with a desk, chair and dresser underneath. At the foot of each bed, shoved into a small shelf, was a TV and DVD player. Colin had added 4

another shelf, along side the trailer’s wall, for his many books.

Colin unhooked a curtain, which dropped and divided the room, allowing him privacy while dressing. A few minutes later, he pulled the curtain back, hooking it to the wall, and started up his laptop. While waiting, he plugged in his ear buds. Before he could hit play on his I-pod, his sister inhaled in a deep gasp, holding her breath.

“What?” he asked, annoyed and not yet in the mood to speak to her. He heard the thought before she could say it.

“Did you lose the locket?” he prompted. His mood changed immediately to concern.

Meghan felt through her sweater, exhaling in relief.

“Still there,” she breathed. Meghan always wore the locket, for safekeeping. However, neither twin would have wanted to lose it, as it had once belonged to their mother. The locket was the only possession of hers that they still owned.

Two vines, one colored black and the other gold, covered the outside of the locket, twisting around each other like a snake. The most confusing part, though, was that the vines had actual sharp, piercing thorns, which if Meghan bent or moved just right would pinch her skin.

Over time, the occasional prick of the thorns had become a comfort to her, a positive affirmation that it was still securely hanging around her neck.

Colin turned his attention back to his laptop and I-pod, but again, found his thoughts interrupted.

“What now?” he grumbled.

“Can’t find my black jacket. Need to sew a button back on.”

5

“How can you find anything? It’s all in a pile, and everything in that pile is black. Even the carpet it’s piled on is black.” He turned on his I-pod, trying to block out the moans of disgust seeping into his own thoughts. After a few minutes of tearing through her side of the room, she gave up, leaving.

A moment later, she yelled that breakfast was ready. As Colin entered the kitchen, Meghan gently pulled the ear buds out of his ears and ordered him to set the outside table.

“Why are there four plates on the counter?” he asked, instantly suspect.

Meghan smiled, blocking her thoughts, but it took him only a second to guess.

“Kanda’s coming. Yes!”

Meghan knew how much Colin loved Kanda Macawi, especially the stories she told around the campfire.

Meghan knew this would also brighten Colin’s mood.

Uncle Arnon grabbed the coffee and juice, while Meghan brought two slow cookers full of food out to the table. An enclosed screened room protected them from the thousands of newly born mosquitoes whose only purpose was to find their next blood-filled meal.

Footsteps approached the Jacoby campsite. Meghan, Colin and Arnon watched eagerly as an attractive Native American woman strode closer. She wore a thin, full-length sweater to stave off the chilly morning air. When she arrived, Uncle Arnon held open the screen door, allowing her entrance to the mosquito-free zone; he zipped it up hastily after she stepped inside.

“My dearest friends,” she said. “Back at my campground again.” After hugs all around, she demanded, “What have 6

you done with the real Meghan Jacoby? Look at you! On the corner of thirteen and growing like a vine.” She gazed closely at Meghan’s face, zoning in on an ocean blue gem in her nose.

“Awesome, isn’t it? Uncle Arnon got it for me as an early birthday present.”

“I thought,” started Kanda, in an I-told-you-so tone,

“you were going to make her wait another year?”

“You know Meghan,” replied Arnon. “She can be very…

persuasive.”

Meghan curtsied knowingly.

“You will visit me later, Meghan,” ordered Kanda, as Meghan rounded the table, serving breakfast. “I’ve got something that will help the infection.” Meghan unconsciously touched the blue gem. It did hurt a little. How did Kanda always know?

“I have to agree on the awesome part,” Kanda continued.

“It matches perfectly with your eyes.” She winked mischievously and then swept her attention to Colin. The boy whom would also be turning thirteen soon, but, who had not grown a single inch during the last year.

“My, what a good looking young man you are turning into. Is it possible that you look even smarter than you did last summer?” She worded her compliment carefully.