Young Writers Society

When the man with gray skin disappeared behind the tree, she thought it was her mind abusing her pills again.

Rayne sat underneath her palm tree with a sketchbook, like she did every day, and was people-watching. She knew it was strange, while most teenagers were out partying about in St. Augustine, but she took pleasure in the quiet solitude of the Matanzas Bay dabbling in other people’s lives.

She let her pencil softly stroke the paper as she drew them, eternally engraved into the books’ cream colored paper. Her eyes wandered from person to person, her ears picking up loose conversations; a business man talking to his wife, an elderly couple talking about brunch at the Ole’ Mill, and then the two men whose conversation lay too far for her ears to hear but their body language clear as today’s sky.

The boy looked calm, despite the man’s indignant flailing of the arms. Rayne thought he looked like a seagull trying to claim a stray piece of food from his friends. Maybe the boy, who looked close to her own age, was dating the man’s daughter. Or possibly, the man was chasing after the stolen goods that the boy had stolen. Whatever it was they were fighting about it was enough to make the man spit in the boy’s face.

Rayne opened her mouth in astonishment, eager to see what the boy would do next. She found herself leaning forward mouthing the words “punch him” under her breath. But the boy did nothing of the sort. Instead he kept his calm and strode towards the lone oak tree that grew on the hill of the fortress of San Marcos, the man hot on his heels. And then what she thought was the shadows cast by his petticoat, an odd choice of wardrobe for the summer days, turned out to be his actual skin color. Rayne looked around, sure that she was not the only one seeing this man’s odd skin coloration.

She was.

The boy leaned against the tree his, his dark head looking down. Was he bored with the man? The man certainly wasn’t. Rayne saw him take something out of his petticoat pocket and moved in front of the boy, obscuring her view of what it was. But whatever it was it had glinted sharply, like the metal of a knife.

Suddenly realizing that there could possibly be a murder, Rayne began to search the site for a guard, but unable to stop watching the argument she stayed put, paralyzed in her feet.

The man was walking away now, visibly calmer. The boy probably talked his way out of it. But to Rayne’s surprise the boy pushed himself away from the tree and tapped the man on the shoulder and something in his ear. The gray man looked around and for a split second Rayne thought he was staring straight at her but the man walked hastily back to the oak tree and disappeared.

Rayne made herself not blink, afraid that if she did she would miss the man walk out from behind the tree, but he didn’t. He was a burly man and she was sure he couldn’t be hiding behind it. She then looked around for the boy but he had vanished just like the man, as if nothing had happened, as if, like she had suspected, her anti-depressant pills were making her see things again.

Clumsily, Rayne picked up her rucksack and sketchbook, the graded pencils fumbling through her fingers. She had to inspect the tree, even though the voice in the back of her head viscously reminded her of the proverbial cat. But she couldn’t let what had happened slip from her mind. There was something about, something tangible, not like the mirages that leaked from her imagination. There was also the fact that it was the same boy who was there every day, just like her. She had formed an un-mutual bond with him and she couldn’t let it wither away. What if he didn’t come back? Who would she draw then; the couple staying at St. George’s Inn?

She trekked over the tree and as soon as she reached it she ran her hands over every nook and cranny of it. Rayne wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. A secret hatch? A clubhouse hidden in the branches? A magical portal?

She pushed the last thought away adamantly. Her father had warned her not to look to fiction for answers as it worked against her medicine. But stubborn and willful, she went against his wishes and devoured anything fiction as an escape from her non-fiction life, especially movies.

“Are you looking for something?”

Rayne screamed, unable to stop herself. Her reaction startled herself as well as the boy. The same boy, she realized, who had vanished along with the gray man.

“No,” Rayne said sharply. She tried to collect her cool, the only sign of nerves in her trembling fingers.

“Oh,” the boy said. “I just saw you mauling this tree so I thought I’d better see if you needed help.”

“Well, no,” Rayne said. She was naturally shy and talking to people made her a wreck, especially with boys. “I-I was actually look for my pencil, but I just found it, so no trouble, I’ll just go-”

“Is that you’re sketchbook,” the boy asked. “I always thought artists were amazing, ably to capture people like a camera- could I see it?”

Before Rayne could say no, the boy had slipped her sketchbook from her hands and was thumbing through the pages. His face, however, wasn’t the typical amazed face that people had when looking at her work, but determined, as if he was looking for something.

“These are really good” he said finally. “You’ve even managed to capture my nose which is pretty hard to do.”

Rayne furrowed her brows. His nose had been a struggle, with its narrow and slightly upturned angle at the tip, much like an elf’s, but that was beside the point. He had looked into her innermost thoughts, her diary nonetheless. She found her cheeks pulsing with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” She said. “I people watch. It’s just something I do.”

“Well just be careful who you watch,”

His words, despite his calm delivery, were threatening.

“I will,” Rayne said, eyeing her sketchbook in his hands. “I actually have to go home, so…”

The boy, whom she was aware was staring at her, closed the book and handed it back to her with an impish grin. “Have a nice night.”

Rayne clutched her sketchbook to her chest and backed away from him a few feet before turning completely around. She was half way from the tree to the street when she looked back. He was gone.

~

“Dad, I’m home,” Rayne yelled, her voice ringing out through the manor’s empty, dark space.

Suddenly a woman dressed in a gray pantsuit, obviously two sizes too small, stepped out into the foyer. Mrs. Ackers, Rayne’s home school tutor, looked annoyed, no, furious.

“Miss Bellerose,” Mrs. Ackers snapped. “I told you that you had your test today and what do you do? You skip out. I’m not being paid to do your homework for you, nor am I your mother.”

At the mention of her mother Rayne glared at Mrs. Ackers. She could never express her dislike for this woman in enough words.

“Maybe if you’d actually teach me instead of yell at me I would come to take your stupid tests,” Rayne snapped back.

“What would your mother think of you? I knew her, you know. She was such a kind woman as well as your brothers. If she looked at what you’ve become…well, let’s just say she’s probably rolling in her grave.”

Rayne felt the familiar sting of trying to hold back tears. She had made a promise to herself she would never cry in front of anyone about her mother but Mrs. Ackers had always stretched it.

“Mrs. Ackers, what in the hell do you think you’re doing, talking to my daughter like that? I would think twice as I do have the ability of disabling you from any future jobs. Yes, Mrs. Ackers, future jobs because your help here is obviously not helping. If you would kindly escort yourself out before I break hell on your pompous lazy ass, it would be without a doubt appreciated.”

Rayne looked up at her father who stood at the top of the foyer stairs, his hair disheveled and his glasses perched crookedly about his nose. Sebastian Bellerose looked almost feral, the knuckles of his right hand turning white as he clutched his cane.

Mrs. Ackers, who hadn’t said another word after Mr. Bellerose’s insult made a indignant huffing noise and stuck up her middle digit. “And that’s what I think of your family. You should all go to hell.”

And with that she spun on her heel and marched out of the Bellerose Manor.

Rayne only took a second to compose herself before she thudded up the foyer stairs past her father and to her bedroom. Tossing her rucksack to the side she ran to her bed and flopped down onto the mass of pillows, an exhausted sigh escaping her lips. The wooden floor creaked to let her know her father had stepped into her room.

“Rayne, I told you to be home earlier,” he said. “It’s an hour past noon and you didn’t check in.”

“Sorry,” she said mockingly. “I forgot my glass slipper.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian said, waving a hand as if to wipe away her sarcasm. “I’m not going to do this with you right now. You’re new tutor will be here any moment so clean up.”

“You knew she was going to quit?”

“Yes,” he said. “I could tell your wit was too strong for her. Honey, you forget it’s an acquired taste.”

“No, she’s just an idiot,” Rayne huffed. “I was basically teaching myself for the past two years.”

“Well you’ll be happy to know the tutor I found goes to the same school you used to attend,” Sebastian paused, picking the right words as to not diffuse a bomb. “He’s eighteen, like you. I thought that a similarity in age might give you something to work with so we don’t have another Mrs. Ackers incident. ”

Rayne sprang into sitting position. “Dad, are you insane? I though you knew I can’t talk to anyone without making myself look like a complete and utter moron.”

“And that was the other part,” her father said. “You’re lacking in social graces, as you admit to, and being with someone your own age will hopefully help prepare you for the real world.”

“The real world,” Rayne echoed. “I’m attending a college that just across the river. Face it Dad, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re missing the point,” Sebastian had offered her a hand which she ignored.

“I’ll clean up,” she said. “But I promise you, this nerdy zit face kid isn’t going to last a minute with me.”

“I’ll take that,” he said smiling.

Defeated, Rayne wriggled free of her pillow mass just as the doorbell reverberated throughout the manor.

~

Rayne nearly fainted. Was it a cruel joke on the part of her father? Did he know what had happened at Matanzas Bay?

The boy from the fortress stood at the doorway, a backpack slung casually over his shoulder.

“Am I late,” was all he said, possibly reacting, Rayne thought, to her shocked face.

“No, in fact you’re early,” Sebastian said. He had opened the door and was now letting the boy inside. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he added. “Rayne appreciates it.”

“Of course Sir,” the boy said. Rayne realized she didn’t know his name. Of course she didn’t, she hadn’t accounted him ever talking to her. But here he was, coincidentally her tutor.

“Well it’s pretty late,” Rayne said. “I guess we should get the lessons over with you can get back to your family.”

“He’s staying for dinner Rayne.” Sebastian said. “That way you can finish whatever lesson you started. He’ll be home in enough time to get rested.”

Rayne just stared blankly at her father, not fully registering at first what he had said. This boy who she saw taking to a mysterious gray man earlier today was going to be teaching her trigonometry? She wondered if she should tell her father about the incident.

“Dad, I have to tell you some-”

“Well we don’t want to run him too late,” Sebastian said and ushered the two of them to the right of the stairway and into the grand dining hall.

Rayne was a mess. She felt her hands slippery with sweat and the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She felt sick.

“Here you go,” Sebastian said. “You guys don’t have too much fun and behave in here.”

The boy made a short choking noise before Sebastian vanished from the room.

It was just the two of them and the awkwardness was suffocating. Rayne led them over to the end of the table where she sat at the head and the boy to her right.

“Is your father always like that,” the boy said, breaking the loud silence.

“Uh, yeah,” Rayne said quietly. She was studying the boy now taking in the features of his face. She hadn’t realized how attractive he was. The way his strong jaw defined his thin neck, his lips permanently curled into a satisfied grin that showed his dimples. And his eyes, just visible through the waves of his dark hair, a mesmerizing blend of ember hues like a warm fire that she knew would flare intensely when angered.

“Do you want to tell me where you left off last?”

Now that she was so close to the boy whom she had chosen as her subject, all she wanted to do was draw him, feeling her sketches from afar didn’t do him justice any longer. Rayne blushed slightly, tearing her eyes away from his high cheekbones.

“Before we start-” She began.

“My names Cael,” the boy said suddenly. “You must have been wondering for some time now and I apologize for keeping you in the dark. I was going to introduce myself at the tree but you had to go home in such a rush.”

Rayne looked at Cael. It was true she wanted to know his name, but she also wanted to ask him what happened to the gray man. She bit her tongue however. Her mother had always told her prodding into someone else’s affairs was rude. Instead she offered her name.

“I know who you are,” he said, not in a condescending tone but a friendly one. “So how about analysis of functions? Does that sound about right to you?”

~

Basile, their only help that was left, set dinner at the other end of the table as to not disturb Rayne and Cael. She almost wished he had disturbed them, anything to stop the choking feeling in her throat and the fog that seemed to cloud her vision of all the functions that lay before her.

“So this is the asymptote,” Rayne said, her lack of confidence making the statement into more of a question.

“No, that is the equation to get the y-intercept,” Cael said. He reached over her arm that lay on the textbook and moved it carefully aside to point at a jumble of words. “This is how you find the asymptote.”

His touch was electric, blowing the clouds away from her vision. She was now awake and aware that Cael was looking at her grinning slightly.

“Do you want to take a break,” he asked. “I can tell I’ve lost you.”

Rayne smiled feebly. “Yeah,” she said and got up to walk to other end of the table.

She stopped short when she noticed there were only two places set for dinner. It was just like her father to do something like this.

“Basile,” she said. “Is Dad not coming to dinner again?”

“No Miss Rayne,” he said. “He has suggested it would be easier to eat in his study in order to finish his map.”

“Map of what,” Cael has appeared right behind her. She hadn’t even felt his presence. Perhaps he was ghost? That would explain the gray man, but not the fact that her father would hire a ghost as her tutor.

“My dad owns the forest behind our home,” Rayne said, pointing out the wall of windows that overlooked the vast sea of trees. “He’s been obsessed ever since-”He’s been obsessed ever since Mom was killed. “He’s been obsessed ever since I could remember.”

“That’s cool,” Cael said. “What, is he trying to find the last unicorn or something?”

That made Rayne laugh. The thought of her father even mentioning the word magic was far beyond the fallacies of a dream. “No, he’s just a filthy rich philanthropist with nothing better to do,” Rayne retorted.

“So does that make you a filthy rich philanthropist too?”

“It’s his money, not mine,”

Cael nodded in approval making Rayne’s pride beam. She moved to take her seat facing the forest, Cael taking the seat opposite her. Basile had done another one of his garbage soups this evening and the comforting smells of tomato and cheddar soothed Rayne, making her relax. At least when they had been learning Cael had been at her side, now he had nowhere to look but at her and it made her throat run dry.

“Cael,” she said, saying his name for the first time. “I have to talk to you about today. You were talking to this man. He was gray all over and he looked angry. At one point I thought he was going to stab you.”

She felt ashamed for bringing it up, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. The entire thing had been weird, and how he had suspiciously become her tutor in the same day. The odds were impractical.

“What are you talking about,” he said dumping his spoonful of garbage soup back into its bowl.

Rayne furrowed her brows. He was going to deny it? “I saw you talking to a man and- Never mind it’s none of my business.”

“What did you hear?”

“Nothing,” she said. So she wasn’t crazy. She couldn’t tell if she was happy about that or the fact that her therapist didn’t have to change her dosage amount.

“Good,” Cael said and ate a spoonful of soup. He swallowed harshly and looked at her sternly. “because it didn’t happen.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” he put his spoon down with a sharp clatter and got up. “I’ve got to go. No need to follow me out.”

Was this the same Cael that her father had invited into their home or had he somehow been kidnapped between the intervals of moving from studying to dinner. Rayne felt terrible and regretted disobeying her mother’s advice as she watched Cael bullet out of the dining hall.

Basile suddenly entered carrying two Coca-colas. He frowned at Cael’s empty seat.

“Too much pepper?”