Awakenings (Elemental Series - Book 1) (18 page)

“Did Eve tell you I saw her where I see Mom?” I asked.

“She just turned her hand to me and I saw she was injured, so I helped her,” Aunt Grace said. She looked down at her own hand.

“I asked her not to say anything. I didn’t want you guys worrying while I was, you know, doing my own thing.”

“We’re always going to worry about you, Jacey, no matter what.”

Hudson and Jen had been dragging behind us pretty much the whole way back home. I figured they needed a little private time.

When we came upon Eve and Bronson’s house, my heart started to work overtime. Something was going on; my ears felt like they were going to burn off of the side of my head and my mouth got dry.
What’s going on? What are these feelings and why can’t I stop them? Do other people feel this way? Why am I feeling this way?

Aunt Grace put her arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. It was as if she read my thoughts and she smiled. “You’re a
very
normal 16 year old girl.”

“How can you do that?” I asked.

“What?” Aunt Grace asked.

“You know, read my mind like that. You know what I’m thinking and what I need to hear to make things feel…right.”

“Oh, no, Jacey. If I had the answers before anyone questioned anything, I can tell you without hesitation, things would definitely be different,” Aunt Grace replied. She looked up into the late afternoon sky, as though she were looking for some kind of answer herself.

“I only meant in reference to me,” I said. “I’m not saying I think you always know the right answers. You seem to know when to say the right things to me and when I need to hear them.”

“One of my abilities is to read thoughts. I can’t read anyone’s mind in its
entirety.
It does matters if they are Nemelite or not. The ones who are and don’t put up any defenses, I can read most of their thoughts and feelings. For ones who aren’t Nemelite, there are only a few I can read, and then I can only read them partially. But you, Jacey, you are Nemelite. I have no doubts about that.”

It was a relief to know my feelings were validated as normal. However, I couldn’t wait to meet this ‘Vincent’ guy tomorrow at school.

My thoughts were twisted as if they had been tossed into a blender. The moment a thought entered my mind, another was right behind it, pushing the first one out. I was relieved when we got home. The comfortable walk chased much of the chaos out of my mind. There was only one thought present when we walked up the front steps.
How am I going to handle tomorrow and what should I expect? N
ew beginnings, yet again.

Hudson interrupted my thoughts. “Jen and I are going to take some of the trails off the backyard to see where they go. Anyone interested in coming with us?”

“No, thanks. I think I’ll stay here and catch up on what I’ve missed over the last few weeks,” Aunt Grace said, opening the front door.

“I second the no thanks part. I don’t want to be alone in the bush with the two of you anywhere,” I said, smirking.

“We’re out of here,” Hudson said, taking Jen’s hand. I watched as they walked around the side of the house and disappeared.

Aunt Grace and I went into the house and sat in the kitchen.

“Is there anything you want to talk about or see?” Aunt Grace asked.

“I was wondering if there are any pictures or things that Mom left here when she went away. I know it’s painful for you and causing you any kind of pain is the last thing I would ever want to do, but Mom never spoke of Nevaeh. I’m learning that my parents had a life here before they had us and I just want to feel closer to them.” I looked down at my intertwined hands in my lap.

“Follow me,” Aunt Grace said. We went upstairs to the end of the hallway. She reached into the closet and pulled out a long metal rod with a hook at the end of it. She used it to grab a small rope which was hanging from the ceiling and pulled. A set of stairs unfolded, leading up into the attic. “Ready?” she asked.

“Always,” I said.

I followed her up into the attic via the hidden stairway. Aunt Grace reached up and pulled a long metal chain and the lights turned on. Every corner of the room became visible. The spectacle before me left me utterly speechless.

The entire space was filled with more boxes than I could count. All of them were stacked neatly and appeared to have been there for years. In between the stacks was a walkway to three large windows. I was drawn to the windows and saw each had a seat within its frame looking out over the front yard.

“Are all of these yours and Mom’s?”

“Not all, but most of them are. There are boxes filled with memories of you and Hudson as small children. This is where she’s been able to store the photographs and videos that she and Hearte took of the two of you. This was a safe place.” She swept both of her hands out from her sides.

“Can I please go through some of them?” I asked.

“Of course. This is your history as much as it is mine. If you have any questions about anything, I’ll be downstairs in the sunroom.” Aunt Grace headed down the steps. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will, thank you.” Finally, I was completely alone. I stood there, amazed at it all, and walked through the aisles of boxes, running my fingers along each one until a small box in particular stood out. I pulled it down from its pile and brought it over to the center window seat. I blew the dust from the top and watched as the dust motes danced in the sunlight. It kept me entertained for a couple of seconds and then I turned my full attention to the box balanced on my lap.

I slowly unfolded the top of the box and looked inside. There were folders and loose papers piled inside. As I took them out, I noticed some photo albums underneath. I put all the paper on the floor and went back for the albums. There were five in total. I was taken aback by how intricate each cover was. All five had been decorated by hand. I placed all of them on the floor in the order they came out of the box. These albums may be the treasures I’d been hoping to find since Mom and Dad had died. The days since they’d been taken from me had been so bleak, here was a link… a bright spot of remembrance.

The first cover had pink butterflies and blue tulips pasted on the front. Big cut out letters spelled ‘US,’ with a happy face beside it. I traced my fingers over the happy face. I knew this was Mom’s book. When she’d leave us letters at home or put them in our lunches, she’d sign off with a happy face. I opened the album, and as I did, Mom appeared beside me.

“Hey, look what I found,” I said, looking down at the first picture. It was two little girls playing on a tree swing.

“I completely forgot these even existed,” Mom said, trying to place her hand on top of it. She couldn’t and her hand went right through the book. The disappointment in her eyes was evident.

“Here,” I said. I sat cross-legged, placing the book on my lap wide open so she could see everything I was seeing.

“That’s Grace and me in the backyard. It was our favorite place to play. There are so many memories here, Jacey. Things I wanted to share with you. Most of the memories you’ll see here are mine, but some are ours.” Mom smiled, putting her hand upon my face. Her touch was as soft as feather swirling around my cheek.

“Mom, I want to share them with you now. Can you stay?” I asked. She nodded, and together, we went through the five albums.

Mom was finally able to share the memories, dreams, heartbreaks and future dreams she’d never been able to do when while she was alive. Today was the first day in my entire life where Mom was able to reveal her true self to me. It was mind-blowing to relive her life through her eyes. As I turned the pages, Mom was more vibrant and alive to me than ever before. I sat quietly, watching how fluid her movements were and how animated her speech was while talking about growing up here with Aunt Grace.

When she spoke about her teachers in school, she described them in a reverent way. Mom explained they had inspired her with the ideals which were the ultimate factors in the choices she and Aunt Grace had made in their lives.

“Mom, did you graduate from high school?” I asked.

“Of course I did.”

“I’m only asking because it looks like the photos only go up to grade eleven. I don’t see any prom pictures or any pictures of—”
I stopped and looked around the room, making sure we were alone.

“Who are you looking for and what are you trying to ask me?” she said, floating up to the ceiling and back down to an almost seated position beside me.

“I was looking for Dad. I didn’t want to make either of you uncomfortable when I asked why I haven’t seen you with anyone
.
In all of the pictures I’ve seen, there’s not one of you and a
boyfriend
. I was wondering why.”

“Dad isn’t hiding behind any of these boxes waiting to hear about my
secret
life before him.” Mom chuckled and flew over to a stack of boxes which were placed against the far right wall. She pointed to a large box. I pulled it down from the top of the pile and dragged it to my window seat. She was already there waiting.

“The reason you didn’t see any of those pictures, is because this box,” she pointed to the one we had just gone through, “is a box of Grace and I. Now, this one—this box is
my
box of memories from high school. They don’t necessarily include my memories of Grace.” Mom waited for me to open it.

I cleared the small layer of dust off the top then opened it. The contents were somewhat similar to the previous box. There were binders and loose paper. When I removed them, the photo albums underneath were decorated quite differently than the others.

There were four in total. Before opening the first album, I slid my fingers over the hand decorated cover. The themes on the jackets of these albums were very different than the jovial young covers from Mom’s memory box with Aunt Grace.

These covers gave off a feeling of adventure, youth, and vulnerability. The first one was covered in deep purple velour and pasted to it were my Mom’s name and the crest of St. Nemele High School. Covering the vast majority of the top were beaded flowers.

“These covers are beautiful, Mom,” I said while gently caressing them.

“I always liked to document everything. If I was experiencing it, I wrote it down somewhere,” Mom said.

I opened the album and became engulfed in Mom’s high school experience. There were pictures of her as a teenager sitting in class, running track, and quietly reading in the library. There were pictures of people I’d never seen before. Mom explained who each one was and what position in her life they held. As the photos went on, I started to notice one person whose presence was repeated.

“Mom, there seems to be one guy who keeps popping up in these pictures.”

“Don’t you recognize him?” Mom asked, sounding surprised.

“No,” I said, puzzled.

“Jacey, from the beginning, there’s always been only one person. When I met him, he made my heart feel like it as going to jump out of my chest. A million butterflies appeared in my stomach, my heart would skip a beat, and my breath would catch. Every time he’d come into the conversation, I felt like I was going to hyperventilate. I can’t believe you don’t recognize him,” she said, genuinely surprised.

“Of course, it’s Dad.”

“Jacey, from the beginning there has always only been one for me and it’s been your father. He came to me in my dreams and never left,” Mom finished with a whimsical look.

“Mom,” I gasped, “you can’t blame me for not recognizing him. He’s soooo young here. He looks like someone with no doubts or worries about anything.”

“Why do you think I fell in love with him? He’s always been sure of himself. He’s never doubted any decisions he’s made in his life. For me, Jacey, he always seemed to have the right answers to my questions. He always knew what needed to be done and how to do it. When I was your age, I was very much like you. I was so unsure of myself and never felt like I was where I was supposed to be, which was the opposite of your father. He was always sure of where he needed to be.”

“You knew from the beginning, Mom?” I asked.

“There was never any kind of hesitation.”

“I can’t believe this is Dad. It doesn’t look like him. He was pretty cute.” Weird, I know, a kid saying their dad looks cute, but hey, the picture was more than thirty years old, and the guy in it looked nothing like the dad I knew.

“He was and still is the cutest man I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Mom stated matter of factly.

“Okay, now that I feel completely uncomfortable, can we move on?” I said.

“Are these your grad pictures?” I asked as we went through the last album. “In this one it looks like you two are at the maze in the middle of town. This picture looks totally fake. The way it’s lit up by the moon makes the picture look like someone did some photoshopping—it looks too perfect to be real,” I said, with an image of
Alice in Wonderland
’s courtyard dancing around in the back of my mind.

“It was a magical night. It was the first night your Dad told me he loved me and wanted to spend the rest of eternity with me.”

I looked away from the album and caught Mom looking off through the window. Her thoughts were somewhere else. Instead of interrupting her moment, I went back through the box and came upon the final album.

The symbols carved into the cover were the symbols I’d woken up to and gone to bed with for the last year.

“These are familiar,” I said sweeping my fingers over the cover.

“By now, my daughter, they should be,” Mom said, her attention now back with me.

“They’re the beginning of a new and adventurous life for you, Jacey. Normally, this life introduces itself through your dreams or you’re born into it. Both Nemelite and Yietimpi have been introducing themselves through our unconscious since we began.” Mom stopped and thought for a moment. “Except for you—when it came to you, that wasn’t the case. You may have been born into it, but everything around you has been a new experience for everyone. In your energy, you are the author of how your experience unfolds.”

I turned my attention back to the symbols, expecting some kind of connection to them, but I had no overwhelming ‘aha’ moment. I only recognized each of them because they’d been painted in my room.

While concentrating on the symbols, without warning I was pulled into a trance. The usual sensations I’d experienced hadn’t precipitated this one. Each of my senses became numb. I couldn’t feel, smell, see, taste or hear a thing. Seconds passed. My vision began to come back. My right hand felt as though it were on fire. I looked at my palm and the burning red symbol that had been seared there had returned.