Simply ignore the spoiler. It is a relic of the past.
Spoiler
3. Hunters In the Snow
The safety of the tress was only a few foot falls away. The burning trees posed no real threat to him since this was a dream. At least that was what Daniel hoped. He hunched his shoulders and sprinted to the trees like a football player going for the touchdown. When Daniel was at last running under the trees he did not slow his pace. Daniel chopped through the wilderness until the battle in the field faded into nothing, and kept on going. The tree canopy above him was not burning like the ones he had past in a blur, although quite a few had leaves that were slightly blackened.
Far up ahead, he could see the ground turn white. The trees at that point were snow capped like in winter. Snow flakes fell like rain, and were scattered around by howling wind. Something cooed in the wilderness and he stopped. The cooing continued. Daniel followed the sound of it feeling compelled to find the little bird making that noise. Daniel knew the cooing sound was meant for him, like destiny.
The bird call was leading him toward the snowy part of the wilderness. The lively harmonious bird call continued to call him fourth. Another bird somewhere far off to his right was making the same sound. "That one is not for me," he said.
Twigs snapped and crackled in the same direction from where the other bird was chirping from. He turned his head slightly in that direction while still running to the first bird. A vague human profile wearing a coat was running through the woods in the same direction as him. Daniel squinted at the person and saw a long mane of dark brown hair flow majestically from around the hood of its coat. It was the brown haired girl.
She turned to face him and quickly turned away, continuing to move forward.
I'll go see her after I get to the bird. The cooing became less and less urging the closer he got to the snow. Finely Daniel spotted the little bird that had been making the noise on the forest floor beside a tree trunk. He bent down next to it and scooped up the grayish tan dove. Daniel noticed that the girl in the distance was also picking a dove up off the ground.
A flurry of activity came from his left. He turned and saw a number of kids and adults running toward the snowy part of the forest. Daniel walked to the snow with the dove cupped in his palms. The closer he got to the snow the colder it got. At one point it got so cold he could see his breath. The dove in his hands shook its delicate wings from the cold.
Reaching the break in the trees where the snow began uncontrollable tremors of cold shook his body. Further up in front of him he saw a break in the trees and into another open field, this one covered in snow.
****************************
Stacey held the little bird in her hands. She was an animal lover who adored all of God's creations, and birds were her favorite. Their very nature seemed to be one of freedom, able to fly through the skies whenever they desired. They were truly free, for them the sky was the limit. Unlike humans like her they were not bound by the rules of the world. A world whose society that was reaching the pinnacle of its vile and evil existence.
Stacey took another look at the boy who had looked at her. He was also carrying a dove. The boy definitely seemed familiar. In her Physical Education class she had seen a boy that looked like he could be this one’s twin. A lot of things about this dream had her thinking. If it wasn't for the fantastical nature of her dream she could swear that this was all real.
She could still feel where the eagle’s claws had dug into her shoulders. And how could she forget all the animals. That bear. She could still see the power drunk look on its face as it was rushing in to kill the gazelle and bird with its followers as fire and hail descended on them. A storm of hail and ice that she could feel.
But, most of all she remembered the lion. Stacey felt so warm and carefree when the lion was around. Even when it was so far away she could see it as clearly as if she had perfect vision, which she hadn't had in forever. Could this dream be something more? Stacey didn't know much about the animal symbols that countries used apart from the bald eagle. But she had a hunch that the gazelle and bird were standing in for Israel. She wished she had paid more attention in World Progression during her previous sophomore year of high school.
She had learned from a Bible that she would read when her father wasn't around to take it, that a country from the north would attack Israel with the help of several others from today’s Middle Eastern region because of its greed over Israel’s riches, or over a similar motive. If all the platinum wasn't riches, then she didn't know what was. The big thing though, was that the attackers were to be destroyed by fire and hail. There would be an earthquake and the topography would be manipulated in incredible ways. And then there were the birds, and animals that were to feed on the dead, and the burying. That was exactly what she saw happen.
Stacey stared at the boy one last time. She was amazed to see more people further out. At least they looked like people. It wouldn't be the first time her vision distorted distant images. She squeezed her eyes together, studying the figures. Of course they're people. I saw them back in the field. But she was still apprehensive. For all she knew, they could be faceless abominations.
Foliage ruffled to her right. She reeled her head toward the sound. Another couple of shadowy shapes ran out, into the snow covered field. They were people. She sighed in relief, and gagged, feeling as if her saliva had frozen. When her mouth warmed up again she squinted, straining her eyes, and saw that there were both kids and adults.
Stacey exhaled, vapor forming in the air. The temperature was extremely cold. And it was getting colder. The clearing was seconds away. The trees around her were grotesquely contorted. The leafless branches were glazed over with snow. Icicles weighed down the branches.
The dove in her arms was cooing, and ruffling its feathers, matching her shivers. "It's going to be OK little one," Stacey said, shielding the animal from the worst of the stabbing cold by clutching it close to her chest, and covering it with the long sleeves of her coat. Even then, the bird still trembled in-synch with her.
****************************
The field of snow was so close Chloe could dive into the snow that covered the ground like cotton. Then she saw the dark gray sinister clouds, painting the sky with bleakness. The savagely brutalized dove on her shoulder that she had identified as the species Streptopelia turtur, chirped weakly in her ear. Its tan feathers were torn in some places, and its naked bleeding pink flesh showed. A black scab of blood was caked around its beak. Why is it so hurt? It's almost like it's in as much pain as I am... inside.
The clouds above her head were not the ones that she was accustomed to seeing snow fall from. They were storm clouds. As Chloe burst out of the trees and into the vast field the falling of snow became a blizzard, her feet sunk a couple of inches into the snow. All the other people that had been around in the field stepped into the field with her.
She alternated from looking left to right. On both sides the other kids mouths opened into O's, fuming vapor. She couldn't see where the line ended because the snow was falling with such ferocity, and being whipped around by the wind that it was almost a fog.
Chloe felt scared and nervous with all the kids around her. Back in the first field she was separated from them by the animals. No longer, it was all white open space. She shivered. The frigid cold got her thinking of her pet arctic hare, which she named Snowey. Chloe stumbled in surprise when something was thumped against her calves. She turned and looked down at the ground beside her feet.
A large rabbit standing up on its hind legs looked up at her. "Snowey!" she said excitedly and gathered the animal in her arms. She coughed, the cold biting at her exposed tongue. She clamped her mouth shut, and pressed animal against her coat. The female Tundra Hare bent its black tipped ears back and snuggled against her chest. "I was just thinking of you and viola here you are my little furry companion." Every word hurt her lungs.
Chloe was so enthralled by the appearance of her Tundra hare that she didn't see the lion watching from the shadows of the trees on the other end of the field. When it roared its terrifying backwards thundering roar she instinctively broke into a run. The dove flew off her shoulder at the exact moment she picked up speed. The blizzard ended as suddenly as someone flipping off a light switch.
Chloe felt tears pour from her eyes. They froze instantly in the cold. Why did it roar like that? That's not how lions roar is supposed to sound. Snowey barked as Chloe ran with him toward the trees, where the multitude of people were running to.
**********************************
The dove in Daniels hands fluttered its wings repeatedly. He knew it wanted to be released. Funny, Daniel wanted to be released too, from the dream. Daniel raised his hands above his head and opened his palms. The bird flew straight up into the sky. He could see another dove doing the same. The mysterious girl was looking at the sky after the birds like him. Daniel watched as the two doves flew beside each other. Daniel rubbed his hands together trying to create heat. He squinted against the snow that stung his eyes.
Daniels heart skipped a beat when a savage roar that shook the snow echoed from the distant trees. For a moment it seemed that time itself had been reversed, and then the snowed stopped. Daniel wished that it hadn't, because it would have hid from sight the animal behind the roar. Everyone screamed and scattered as a monstrous lion stalked out of the trees. It was not the beautiful golden furred lion. This lion’s eyes were red with hunger. It lifted its head toward the sky watching the doves flying closely beside each other.
There were now three doves. Where did the third come from? At least I think it's a dove. It looks like it's almost dead, and yet it's still flying. The lion bared its teeth and launched itself into the air toward the birds. The doves that had been flying to meet each other in the air were forced to scatter. The lion’s mouth clamped down on empty air. How can it jump so high? Daniel turned to run back into the wilderness he had come.
The safety of the tress was only a few foot falls away. The burning trees posed no real threat to him since this was a dream. At least that was what Daniel hoped. He hunched his shoulders and sprinted to the trees like a football player going for the touchdown. When Daniel was at last running under the trees he did not slow his pace. Daniel chopped through the wilderness until the battle in the field faded into nothing, and kept on going. The tree canopy above him was not burning like the ones he had past in a blur, although quite a few had leaves that were slightly blackened.
Far up ahead, he could see the ground turn white. The trees at that point were snow capped like in winter. Snow flakes fell like rain, and were scattered around by howling wind. Something cooed in the wilderness and he stopped. The cooing continued. Daniel followed the sound of it feeling compelled to find the little bird making that noise. Daniel knew the cooing sound was meant for him, like destiny.
The bird call was leading him toward the snowy part of the wilderness. The lively harmonious bird call continued to call him fourth. Another bird somewhere far off to his right was making the same sound. "That one is not for me," he said.
Twigs snapped and crackled in the same direction from where the other bird was chirping from. He turned his head slightly in that direction while still running to the first bird. A vague human profile wearing a coat was running through the woods in the same direction as him. Daniel squinted at the person and saw a long mane of dark brown hair flow majestically from around the hood of its coat. It was the brown haired girl.
She turned to face him and quickly turned away, continuing to move forward.
I'll go see her after I get to the bird. The cooing became less and less urging the closer he got to the snow. Finely Daniel spotted the little bird that had been making the noise on the forest floor beside a tree trunk. He bent down next to it and scooped up the grayish tan dove. Daniel noticed that the girl in the distance was also picking a dove up off the ground.
A flurry of activity came from his left. He turned and saw a number of kids and adults running toward the snowy part of the forest. Daniel walked to the snow with the dove cupped in his palms. The closer he got to the snow the colder it got. At one point it got so cold he could see his breath. The dove in his hands shook its delicate wings from the cold.
Reaching the break in the trees where the snow began uncontrollable tremors of cold shook his body. Further up in front of him he saw a break in the trees and into another open field, this one covered in snow.
****************************
Stacey held the little bird in her hands. She was an animal lover who adored all of God's creations, and birds were her favorite. Their very nature seemed to be one of freedom, able to fly through the skies whenever they desired. They were truly free, for them the sky was the limit. Unlike humans like her they were not bound by the rules of the world. A world whose society that was reaching the pinnacle of its vile and evil existence.
Stacey took another look at the boy who had looked at her. He was also carrying a dove. The boy definitely seemed familiar. In her Physical Education class she had seen a boy that looked like he could be this one’s twin. A lot of things about this dream had her thinking. If it wasn't for the fantastical nature of her dream she could swear that this was all real.
She could still feel where the eagle’s claws had dug into her shoulders. And how could she forget all the animals. That bear. She could still see the power drunk look on its face as it was rushing in to kill the gazelle and bird with its followers as fire and hail descended on them. A storm of hail and ice that she could feel.
But, most of all she remembered the lion. Stacey felt so warm and carefree when the lion was around. Even when it was so far away she could see it as clearly as if she had perfect vision, which she hadn't had in forever. Could this dream be something more? Stacey didn't know much about the animal symbols that countries used apart from the bald eagle. But she had a hunch that the gazelle and bird were standing in for Israel. She wished she had paid more attention in World Progression during her previous sophomore year of high school.
She had learned from a Bible that she would read when her father wasn't around to take it, that a country from the north would attack Israel with the help of several others from today’s Middle Eastern region because of its greed over Israel’s riches, or over a similar motive. If all the platinum wasn't riches, then she didn't know what was. The big thing though, was that the attackers were to be destroyed by fire and hail. There would be an earthquake and the topography would be manipulated in incredible ways. And then there were the birds, and animals that were to feed on the dead, and the burying. That was exactly what she saw happen.
Stacey stared at the boy one last time. She was amazed to see more people further out. At least they looked like people. It wouldn't be the first time her vision distorted distant images. She squeezed her eyes together, studying the figures. Of course they're people. I saw them back in the field. But she was still apprehensive. For all she knew, they could be faceless abominations.
Foliage ruffled to her right. She reeled her head toward the sound. Another couple of shadowy shapes ran out, into the snow covered field. They were people. She sighed in relief, and gagged, feeling as if her saliva had frozen. When her mouth warmed up again she squinted, straining her eyes, and saw that there were both kids and adults.
Stacey exhaled, vapor forming in the air. The temperature was extremely cold. And it was getting colder. The clearing was seconds away. The trees around her were grotesquely contorted. The leafless branches were glazed over with snow. Icicles weighed down the branches.
The dove in her arms was cooing, and ruffling its feathers, matching her shivers. "It's going to be OK little one," Stacey said, shielding the animal from the worst of the stabbing cold by clutching it close to her chest, and covering it with the long sleeves of her coat. Even then, the bird still trembled in-synch with her.
****************************
The field of snow was so close Chloe could dive into the snow that covered the ground like cotton. Then she saw the dark gray sinister clouds, painting the sky with bleakness. The savagely brutalized dove on her shoulder that she had identified as the species Streptopelia turtur, chirped weakly in her ear. Its tan feathers were torn in some places, and its naked bleeding pink flesh showed. A black scab of blood was caked around its beak. Why is it so hurt? It's almost like it's in as much pain as I am... inside.
The clouds above her head were not the ones that she was accustomed to seeing snow fall from. They were storm clouds. As Chloe burst out of the trees and into the vast field the falling of snow became a blizzard, her feet sunk a couple of inches into the snow. All the other people that had been around in the field stepped into the field with her.
She alternated from looking left to right. On both sides the other kids mouths opened into O's, fuming vapor. She couldn't see where the line ended because the snow was falling with such ferocity, and being whipped around by the wind that it was almost a fog.
Chloe felt scared and nervous with all the kids around her. Back in the first field she was separated from them by the animals. No longer, it was all white open space. She shivered. The frigid cold got her thinking of her pet arctic hare, which she named Snowey. Chloe stumbled in surprise when something was thumped against her calves. She turned and looked down at the ground beside her feet.
A large rabbit standing up on its hind legs looked up at her. "Snowey!" she said excitedly and gathered the animal in her arms. She coughed, the cold biting at her exposed tongue. She clamped her mouth shut, and pressed animal against her coat. The female Tundra Hare bent its black tipped ears back and snuggled against her chest. "I was just thinking of you and viola here you are my little furry companion." Every word hurt her lungs.
Chloe was so enthralled by the appearance of her Tundra hare that she didn't see the lion watching from the shadows of the trees on the other end of the field. When it roared its terrifying backwards thundering roar she instinctively broke into a run. The dove flew off her shoulder at the exact moment she picked up speed. The blizzard ended as suddenly as someone flipping off a light switch.
Chloe felt tears pour from her eyes. They froze instantly in the cold. Why did it roar like that? That's not how lions roar is supposed to sound. Snowey barked as Chloe ran with him toward the trees, where the multitude of people were running to.
**********************************
The dove in Daniels hands fluttered its wings repeatedly. He knew it wanted to be released. Funny, Daniel wanted to be released too, from the dream. Daniel raised his hands above his head and opened his palms. The bird flew straight up into the sky. He could see another dove doing the same. The mysterious girl was looking at the sky after the birds like him. Daniel watched as the two doves flew beside each other. Daniel rubbed his hands together trying to create heat. He squinted against the snow that stung his eyes.
Daniels heart skipped a beat when a savage roar that shook the snow echoed from the distant trees. For a moment it seemed that time itself had been reversed, and then the snowed stopped. Daniel wished that it hadn't, because it would have hid from sight the animal behind the roar. Everyone screamed and scattered as a monstrous lion stalked out of the trees. It was not the beautiful golden furred lion. This lion’s eyes were red with hunger. It lifted its head toward the sky watching the doves flying closely beside each other.
There were now three doves. Where did the third come from? At least I think it's a dove. It looks like it's almost dead, and yet it's still flying. The lion bared its teeth and launched itself into the air toward the birds. The doves that had been flying to meet each other in the air were forced to scatter. The lion’s mouth clamped down on empty air. How can it jump so high? Daniel turned to run back into the wilderness he had come.
Eitan's eyelids fluttered open. The moonlight that streamed in through the window panes cast prison bar shadows on the walls. Eitan's top lip was trembling. The nightmare had seemed so real.
He was no stranger to having bad dreams. The worst had him reliving the tragedy that made him the bad person that he was now. At the age of ten, Eitan and his friend Habil had been playing soccer outside, and then he was gone, faster than the kick of a ball. He died in a suicide bombing by a Palestinian terrorist.
Eitan had witnessed it. From the moment the man pressed the button. That explosion. The cloud of smoke and dirt that rushed toward him. His eyes were blackened with it, and it had entered his mouth and lungs. It may have been induced by breathing in all those fumes, but Eitan faintly recalled hearing a wolf’s howl mingle with the explosion, and recalled feeling cold. No, not cold, frozen.
But that was impossible. There were no wolves in the city, and it wasn't the time of year for cold fronts. He wasn’t even sure if Israel had wolves at all. But the cold was still possible, weather was unpredictable.
His parents had found him sitting against a wall, rocking back and forth. For weeks Eitan feared just leaving his house. And day by day, he felt a rage building inside of him toward the Palestinian people. But even as horrific as that recurring nightmare was, this one ranked with it.
Eitan noticed that his mouth was dry and tasted foul. He needed a glass of water. Eitan cast his bed cover aside and left his room to step into the darkened house. The room light of his little sister, Jonina, shined through the top and bottom cracks of her door. What was she doing awake at this hour? He had just begun to her door when the knob turned; his sister rushed past him and ran to her parent’s room.
Her face was shrouded in shadow, but from her erratic breathing he knew that something had her frightened. Eitan stood next to Jonina's room, peeking inside. Along the far wall, next to her bed was a cabinet filled with dolls and toys. They were the only friends Jonina had ever known.
His poor sister. So loved, and yet, so lonely. He remembered how she could spend hours talking to them, as if they were a family. Jonina's banging on her parents room made turn away from the glassy, lifeless eyes of the toys.
The door slowly opened and his mom peeked around it. “What's wrong?”
"I had a bad dream," Jonina whispered.
Whatever dream she had it couldn't have compared to his. Eitan would have expected his mom to tell Jonina that there was nothing to worry about and should just go back to sleep, but she didn't. In fact, she looked worried as she brushed away moist, black hair from her cheeks.
"What did you dream about, Jonina?" his mom asked.
"Lots of fire," his sister said, “and animals fighting.”
Eitan pushed himself off the wall, surprised. Had he and his sister had the same dream?
"Was there a gazelle in your dream?" Eitan said.
His mother looked at him, her eyes squinting in the dimness. "I hadn't seen you there, Eitan."
"What's a gazelle?" his sister said.
"It looks kind of like a deer, except-" Eitan had begun to say before his sister cut him off.
"Mom, I saw a deer in my dream. His branches were on fire!" Jonina said, tugging at her mother's night gown.
That was all the confirmation Eitan needed.
"Love," his mom said.
Namir, his father, a tall muscular man, appeared in the doorway.
"Yes, dear?" Namir said.
"Jonina had the same dream me and you had.”
Namir's face flushed. Eitan stared at the brown carpet. It was all too much for him to take in. First his sister, and then both of his parents had had the same dream. Did his brother Zeev also dream it? A light in the hall turned on and his brother approached, his long hair a mess.
“Don't mind me,” Zeev said. “I'm just going to the restroom. But oh, man, I had such a nightmare.”
***************************
The second Chloe awoke at 5:24 ante meridiem; she rushed over to her pets, ignoring the cold sweat on her forehead and under her yellow pajamas. She flipped on the light switch. The sudden brightness irritated her eyes.
Chile, her chinchilla, reared up on his hind legs and pressed his tiny forepaws against the cage bars.
"Hey, Chile," Chloe said, tickling the animals chubby stomach. His bushy squirrel tail curled up behind him. She pulled her fingers out from the bars and plopped down on her bed, savoring the feeling of calmness that being half-conscious gave her.
Chloe’s room was almost entirely white. From the walls, desk, bed, pillows, television, movie player, and many other miscellaneous objects. The carpet of the floor, however, was green, the color of her eyes. She was one of only about four hundred thousand people in the world who had that color.
Her dad often teased her, calling her foliage because of their leaf like luster. She and her family didn't talk much. Mostly her mother just told her how much she loved her, and Chloe would merely nod. It was annoying, really, how her mother showed that she was adored, but never listened to anything she had to say. Her father, on the other hand, was always busy, so they didn't talk much either. And when they did it was usually greetings, sarcasm and goodbyes.
The whole reason for Chloe’s room being almost exclusively white was because she hoped that in doing so, it would ensure that Snowey's coat would stay white year round. So far it hadn't been put to the test since the time of year that was formally known as summer, hadn't arrived yet. But Chloe doubted that she was a match for the laws of nature. While she was a bright girl, her goofy side still showed. She sighed, knowing that her bad side also manifested. It was like a symbiote.
She had found the Lepus othus leveret in the wild when she had gone with her parents to Alaska. The mother had just been killed by an arctic fox, along with the rest of the offspring in the nest. As much as her parents argued about her interfering with nature, Chloe could not leave the tiny snowball of a animal to die.
She scared the predator away. That was the easy part. It was a nightmare getting the young hare through customs. The reason for the trip was that her parents had been there on assignment. They were to check if the rumors of the locals that the permafrost of tundra regions was thawing at the wrong time of the year were true.
Chloe ran a hand through her moist hair. She smiled, remembering how she had found it so repulsive compared to the lion's luscious gold fur. Chloe stopped stroking her hair and clamped her fingers around a clump. Her parent's environmental philosophy was wide spread. They were television icons.
Even a number of the kids from her school watched The End of Nature, Extinct Habitats, Expedition Blunders, and Global Exploration. All of them were among the highest rated nature shows. Of those shows, her personal favorite was Expedition Blunders, her father was pretty funny in the episode he appeared in. Laughter was a rare luxury.
Feeling a sharp pain on her scalp, Chloe gritted her teeth and loosened the grip on her hair. Opening her eyes she turned her neck to the right, resting the side of her face on the bed. A picture of she and her family hung on the wall. In it they were all wearing Hazmat suits, grotesque trees, and a gritty skyline behind them.
Some of her fondest memories were there, in Chernobyl. She giggled, remembering that her father had whispered to her, "Those aliens following us are giving me the creeps." He had been referring to the documentary crew who shuffled after them, carrying equipment. Their erratic breathing making sucking sounds the entire time. He didn't know until later that their highly sensitive sound equipment had been recording the entire time.
Pressing her palms over the bed, Chloe pushed herself off. The Chernobyl trip was interesting, but what it really was, was an eye opener. A nuclear disaster had snuffed out all forms of life, hundreds of miles around the disaster site. And prior to the trip all animal life just died around the site where the nuclear meltdown took place.
Nobody knew why, and they still didn't. Some speculated that secret tests for nuclear weapons had taken place there. Perhaps dirty bombs that spread something like fallout that could actually kill people, rather than just be a weapon of mass disruption. Like the ones that were recently used in Ashdod and Tel Aviv.
But then why had they been allowed to film in Chernobyl? Maybe they didn't care about their safety. They probably counted on them dropping dead from radiation sickness sometime soon. She certainly wouldn't mind.
Who, "they" were, if anybody, was unknown. However, the horror of nuclear destruction remained. Chloe could only begin to imagine what a nuclear war could do to the natural world she had grown to love. Just thinking about it broke her heart.
Why are we humans so destructive? We live a parasitic lifestyle slaughtering each other for our own benefit. We may primarily live a commensalistic relationship, but that is still a form of living only for ourselves. Rarely do we live in mutualism in which we can help each other grow and come closer together.
Chloe crouched down in front of Snowey's cage and looked in at her. She was stretched out in the middle.
“Hey, you little spoiled princess, “she said, opening the cage. Snowey's ears perked up and turned to Chloe like antennas.
She smiled. “You're so adorable,” Chloe said, reaching in the cage and pulling Snowey out. It was time for her exercise in the backyard of her Omaha, Nebraska home. She slipped on a pair of slippers and snatched her electronic field journal, which was also a diary full of dark memories. The ravaged touch screen was evidence of it, and the tear stains eternally glazed over it.
*************************
Stacey awoke with her chest heaving up and down. She brushed her hair away from her eyes and got out of bed. It was short, just like it should be. The old clock hanging from a rusty nail against the wall read, 6:48. Used to waking up earlier than other kids, she never needed to set an alarm.
She woke up early because she walked to school. Her dad didn't own a car, but wouldn't have taken her if he had one anyway. Shuddering, she thought about how riding the bus was a dreadful experience she did not want to repeat. She walked barefoot over the cold wooden floor to the window. Pushing the baby blue shades aside, she gazed at the sky. It was a dark, bluish gray. The banana shaped, crescent moon was still visible. Looking at the street, she saw the paper boy activating the morning news on peoples' mail boxes with a key card, skipping her house.
No blue light ever appeared on her mail box; It was always a life-less gray box, unless her father was in trouble with the city, then it would blink red. Sighing, Stacey looked at the blue green, dew moistened grass. A few years back, it had been left to grow wild. Only when the city people sent in letters, did her father get around to cutting it. Stacey now took the ordeal of cutting it herself with a heavy rusty old lawn mower that only worked half the time.
She rubbed a finger along her left palm. Blisters creased below her fingers like mountain ranges. Hard labor was her way of life. She closed the shade and got dressed, choosing generic clothes on purpose.
In one of her clothes drawers she kept a Bible that she had to hide from her anti-religion father. Stacey pushed it further back and covered it lightly so she wouldn't leave an obvious bulge to where it was. It was easy to tell that father often raided her room for beer money.
Stacey dug out her work uniform and stuffed it in her backpack. She went straight to work as a waitress as soon as school ended. The customers usually gave her hefty tips. It was like they knew she needed it. The faded red and khaki uniform in her backpack was the only one she owned. She washed it every two nights. Her work shoes, were both her school and casual shoes.
The sky blue, gray tint walls of Stacey's room were oppressing in the twilight. It was like she was surrounded by a fathomless, stormy ocean. The rest of the house was the same color. Stacey had not only bought the paint for the house, but also did all the painting herself. The paint had cost a fortune considering she was on a budget. Her father hadn't worked ever since he had been layed off from his job in a factory.
Stacey's room was originally the living room, but years ago, when her mother still lived there and before her father had become a drunk, he had built a wall and door to isolate a large portion of it from the rest of the house. It made the single bedroom home into one with two. In a way, it became her parent’s master bedroom when they were together.
Her dad now had his sleeping quarters in what used to be Stacey's room as a child. Her father never told her why he insisted on trading rooms with her when her mother left. She assumed it gave him bad memories being in the room where he and her mother used to spend their time together.
Stacey grabbed her backpack and crept toward her door and cautiously opened it, wincing as it creaked. The house was quiet, which was a good thing. Stacey did not want to have her morning begin with verbal abuse from her father. She tiptoed through her small house, toward the bath room. Once there, she brushed her teeth and stepped out of the puny room. She headed for the front door, taking baby steps, wishing a back door existed.
Her tiny home was vibrant because of her hard work around the house. Her dusting and cleaning of windows until they sparkled like crystal in the sunlight more than made up for the short comings of the rotting floorboards and the deteriorating walls and roof. She even cleaned the dust off of all the ceiling fans, which no longer worked.
Her father, on the other hand, had never done anything around the house but make a mess, which she would promptly clean up. She smiled at her work. Her hardships had transformed an indoor landfill into a liveable household.
Stacey jumped when she heard someone say, "Goodbye, sweetie." The floor boards strained under her sudden movement. The voice was that of her father, not of a burglar.
She turned to the kitchen and saw her father sitting in an old wooden chair, smiling at her. He looked ten years younger his actual age. She couldn't recall any time she had seen him so happy. Even Stacey’s mother said the happiest she had ever seen him was when he held her in his arms after she was born. The sight of him without a beer can in his grip also didn't register.
Stacey thought her dad was just trying to be funny. She waved at him and said, "Bye dad," as she headed out the door. Before the door closed Stacey heard her dad say, "I love you."
She stopped and whispered, “I do too.” I just wish you really did. You haven't called me Sweetie since when? Six, seven years ago?
She wondered if he was just acting nice because he was about to ask her to cook him some breakfast. A meal he never ate. He would skip right to drinking a beer.
“Dad, that's just not healthy,” she whispered to the empty street. A dove perched on a wire, chirped at her. Stacey smiled up at it, but her smile became a grimace as a hawk swept down on it like a scythe.
Because, yeah, I see what you mean, it's starting to feel like a Modern Lord of The Rings.