Guardians Awakening/Chapter One/New Beginnings

Verlaine glares out the window of her mother’s Chevy Jeep at the thicket of trees rolling by. Though she’s usually all for nature she hates the trees right now and her mother. Then again, what fifteen year-old girl doesn’t? Verlaine was usually fine with moving, but she didn’t know she’d be moving from New York City to Haven Sound, Maine, a small, cold, city-town by the ocean. So okay, she was a trouble child, she understood that. But she couldn’t help being curious of things. Although she wasn’t that curious to see the inside of a police precinct jail cell. “I miscalculated,” she thinks with a sigh. “I didn’t think I’d get caught so soon.”

She got busted for selling cigarettes to the kids in her school and the dean called the cops because the old woman thought it was marijuana or something. Verlaine got to spend three hours in a jail cell with school ditchers, drug dealers, and the people they held temporarily after interrogation. She would’ve been happier moving to the Bronx, or even Staten Island, at least she could still go to her school. Winston Academy was the best all girl’s school in Manhattan, Verlaine was the top student. She excelled in everything, at least that’s what all her teachers said. They also said it was a shame she could never keep out of trouble. Too bad too, she was going to run for student body president again.

If it wasn’t for those few fights in school and her actions outside of school she would’ve won during the first elections, 75% of the student body voted for her. Only 25% didn’t, and the teachers all agreed that despite her amazing academic and physical skills, she was too much of a rebel to be the president. “I would’ve convinced them if it wasn’t for that prissy Penelope Vogue, and who knows, being student body president could’ve turned my whole life around,” she mumbles to herself. “Then again, Dean Morgan would’ve probably expelled me if Mom hadn’t told her we were moving; at least I don’t have that on my record among other things.”

Her mother, Danielle Hedgerow, sat beside her in the driver’s seat. They’d been driving for seven hours and thirty-three minutes exactly, Verlaine was counting. They’d have to take a ferry out to one of the islands that Haven Sound was on, and Verlaine’s dad, Ichiro Ishida, would be meeting them the day after Thanksgiving. Verlaine felt that they had planned the move even before she got arrested because Ichiro already had a job at a law firm in Haven Sound and Danielle a hospital. Danielle glances at her daughter, reminding herself that she had been a teenager once too and she had also spent hours in a car not speaking to her mother. She sighs, “What goes around comes around,” she mutters.

“Verlaine dear you have to speak to me sometime, I am your mother after all,” she says, still staring straight ahead.

Verlaine huffs, “I can play this game all day,” she thinks. “Silence is the easy part.”

“Verlaine, come on. Look, I know you’re bummed about leaving your amazing school that you don’t even need to go to and all your friends but you’ll make new friends at the Institute. It’s a great school too, and I went there. Of course, its co-ed, so now your father and I will have to worry about you bringing home boys,” she chuckles.

Rolling her eyes, Verlaine crosses her arms and slides down in her seat, the seat belt cutting into her breast.

“And you’ll get to see your grandmother more often; after all we’ll be living with her. I just don’t know the state of the house. God knows Mother would just let it get run down.”

Verlaine keeps quiet.

“Please say something, this silence is killing me.”

Verlaine scowls. “Something,” she says.

“Alright, I guess you did do what I asked. Would you like to hear about the house?”

No answer, not even a groan.

“Okay then, I’ll talk and you’ll listen for a change. You’re going to be staying in my old room, it has a bay window and cushioned window seats. Your grandmother’s home is a Victorian, a classic, I’m sure you’ll love it. She’s got a cat, a white Persian named Freya. She can be very stuck up for a cat, but maybe you’ll like her. You always did beg for a pet, well now you have one. Oh, and the house is near a cliff, it’s sort of isolated from the rest of the town, and doesn’t have much plants. But we can plant more and it’ll be full of beautiful, growing things, won’t that be nice?”

Verlaine glances at her and sighs. She hates watching people struggle, even if she does love to mess with them. “Yes, it will be. What’s the town like?”

Danielle brightens up with a she smile, glad to know she can still break through. “It’s lovely, everyone there is really friendly, but not that many people leave, or come in. Haven Sound isn’t a tourist attraction like NYC but it’s a great place in the summer, especially with all the beaches. And you can join tons of different clubs at the school to keep you busy; they’ve got volley ball, soccer, swimming, a newspaper, cheerleading, and a lot of other stuff I can’t remember right now.”

Verlaine smiles, a small smile. She had to give her mother credit for the very subtle hint that she should join a club that would take up all her free time, but Verlaine didn’t do the whole club thing. “No, I’ll be looking for a job; Lord knows they won’t raise my allowance back to $60 a week right away. I’ll have to work for that,” she thinks, hoping that Haven Sound has some expensive restaurants and fast food places that would let her work part time. Or, if possible, she could get a job at the mall, a cashier maybe, a waitress, even folding sweaters at wherever. Although Macy’s was not an option, they didn’t hire anyone under eighteen. As soon as they got to her grandmother’s house she’d get on the computer and print out her resume, assuming her grandmother has a printer. For the rest of the ride she sits and listens to her mother go on and on about Haven Sound, how Grandma Yvette has let the house fall apart, and Verlaine’s new high school. There are only two high schools in the entire town; actually there are only two schools for elementary; and middle as well.

“And you call it a city,” Verlaine says, after hearing this. “What’s the school called anyway?”

“Rill Institute for Gifted Young Minds, you’ll love it. It’s a very specialized school that you have to be really smart to get into. It’s like college but without the grants and loans since it’s a public school. They mark you not just on academic skills but physical and artistic as well, perfect for you.”

“And why doesn’t it cost a fortune?”

“The school is privately owned and was founded by Elias Rill in ‘97 as a school that accepts everyone and gives kids a chance. Now its run by Eugenia Rill, Elias’s daughter and supported by donations and the Rill fortune. Back when I went there it had dorms for the kids who were sent abroad, you have to pay rent of course. Lucky for you the Institute allows students to work.” Danielle smiles, thinking she’s being funny.

“That’s cold mom.”

Inside the Silver Linings Boutique the forty-ish woman behind the register flinches. She keeps her eyes closed, and expression calm. However, her hands are clasped tightly together, so tight that the blood drains slowly from them. A bead of sweat runs down the left side of her face and she takes a sharp intake of breath. Stumbling back, she reaches out a hand and steadies herself on the side counter. Her eyes pop open, fixed on the clear crystal ball dangling like a dream catcher from her ceiling above the counter, just a foot from the register. The ball is glowing and colors swirl through it, as if spring is in full bloom inside of it. The woman narrows her eyes, for she has never seen the crystal ball react like that before, then her eyes widen in realization.

“Our mistress is close, isn’t she?”

In response the ball glows brighter and starts making a noise like metal clashing against metal.

The woman nods, strands of her black hair falling gracelessly out of her usually perfect bun. “Then I must prepare for their awakening, a centuries old plan will soon be set in motion,” she says to herself. Pulling the silver comb/hair pin from her hair, she lets all her wavy locks tumble down her shoulders and fixes her one gray streak beside her eyes. She grips the comb tightly, tight enough that if the comb wasn’t made from metal the dragon sculpted into it would break. “The time has come.”

Verlaine gets out of the car, accidently letting the door slam behind her, and looks up at the house. With just one look at the house it dawns on her that Haven Sound is a colonial era town, she begins to think her grandmother’s house looks like a Victorian mansion reminding her of the one from Coraline. “Welcome to Pink Palace Apartments,” she says dramatically, like a ringleader at a circus. Danielle gives her a look before opening the trunk and telling her to come and get her bags. Verlaine ignores her and instead she turns slowly to look around. The house is on a cliff side, well a mile from it; she wondered how steep it was but decided to save her investigation for later. The house is painted a pale cream that has chipped away a lot in some spaces; the banister surrounding the porch looks rotten. There is a gate surrounding the front of the house, rusted and adding to the dreary affect.

Two dead trees stand in the brown grass filled yard with all the weeds, one tree is a weeping willow, the other a maple. Dead ivy climbs up the side of the house, clinging to the banisters and the balcony of what, Verlaine guesses, is her room. She smiles; the house looks perfect to her. Ignoring Danielle’s calls she runs around back, silver hair billowing in the wind, to see a few more scattered trees, a living birch tree, a sycamore already taken over by autumn, and another willow tree. There’s a big stone well that’s dried up and filled with soil, someone must’ve wanted to get down there before because a stone staircase was built into the wall of the well, gray, cracked, and moss covered. She stops short of running down the steps and turns to view the back of the house. More ivy is there, and the shutters are broken, the circle window for the attic looks grimy even from the ground. Most of the shingles on the roofs are broken, and the rectangular cellar windows are dirtier than the attic window.

“This place needs a lot of work,” Verlaine says, holding her chin and scrutinizing the house. “It looks kind of haunted.”

“Verlaine,” Danielle calls from the front of the house.

Verlaine sighs and reluctantly goes back to the car to grab her two suitcases and shrug on her backpack. She walks through the front door, rolling her suitcases behind her and then lifting them up the steps as if they weighed nothing. She is stronger than she looks. That doesn’t stop her from hitting her suitcases against the wall and banister. She finds her room on the second floor and tosses her suitcases on the bare mattress. Turning slowly, she studies the room, one hand on her hip. Her bed sports a four-poster metal frame. A vanity stands to her right, an armoire left of the door, a closet across from the vanity, one oval full length mirror and a trunk at the foot of her bed. There is also a bookshelf beside the closet door. “Wow, really looks like I stepped into the past,” she says, eyeing the chandelier above her with fake candles and fake flames. “It’s cute though and I’ve got my own bathroom.” She walks across the hall and opens the bathroom door and pops her head in, grinning at the clawfoot bath tub. “Sweet, I’m going to have some great R&R moments in here.”

“Uh, Verlaine what are you doing,” asks Danielle from behind her.

“Just taking inventory,” she pauses. “So, do I have this whole floor to myself?”

Danielle shakes her head. “No Verlaine, your grandmother’s room is at the front and your father and I sleep in the room downstairs. This bathroom is yours though.”

“Awesome. What about Uncle Rune’s old room?” Verlaine says arms folded behind her back.

“That’s on the first floor too. Sure helped him sneak out a lot. Anyways, go say hi to your grandma, but make sure you unpack. Also, if you want anything from the attic it’s yours, just be careful up there. Your father and I will have a contractor here tomorrow.”

“Kay, so Nona’s where exactly?”

“The parlor, be good.”

“I’m always good.”

Verlaine laughs at Danielle’s dubious frown and arched brow. “Well I’m sort of good,” she says before running off towards the steps. She finds Nona in the parlor with the fluffy white Persian cat on her lap, flicking its tail back and forth. Grinning, Verlaine walks in the room and lifts the cat up, acting like a mischievous child again. Freya hisses at her, glaring at Verlaine with one brown eye and the other green. “Hey you’re pretty, Nona how come you haven’t brought her over on your visits?” She smiles down at the old woman who is staring gingerly at the untouched chess game on the table in front of her.

“Hello Verlaine, is it your birthday already?” she says, voice still laced with a Swedish accent.

“No Nona, but I’d still appreciate the hundred dollars, Mom and Dad are being stingy. Besides, you always visit us for my birthday, this is my first time here remember?” She sits in the armchair across from Yvette and sets Freya down.

“Oh yes, I forgot. Your mother tells me they cut your allowance because you’ve been misbehaving, is that true?”

“Nobody is perfect Nona, but don’t worry, Haven Sound will be a fresh start for me. I’m just sad I didn’t get to live in the Bronx yet, or Staten Island. Can I play with you?”

“Sure, if you win I’ll give you that hundred.”

“Deal, I’ll definitely win.” She sets her left hand down on one of her pawns and moves it. “So Nona, why’d you let the house fall into ruin?”

“You’re welcome to fix it. But I’m just a little old lady; you can’t expect me to take care of this house by myself. I’m glad you’ve moved here, Freya and I were getting lonely.” She moves her pawn one space forward. She has all the white pieces.

“I see,” she says seriously and then perks up. “So does that mean I can paint my room any color I want?” She moves another pawn.

“Sure, I don’t see why not. By the way, do you have your license yet?” She moves another pawn.

Verlaine chuckles. “Nona, I don’t even have a permit, in New York you have to be eighteen, I’m still fifteen remember.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Well you can get your permit here, maybe I’ll get you a car for your next birthday, or maybe you can have mine.”

“Oh really, I’d like a Bentley.”

“I knew you had good taste. What color are you going to paint your room?”

“Well, I’m thinking cream, with lavender curtains, and the shutters can be navy, no midnight blue. Or I paint my room Columbia blue; get gray curtains and a black comforter with purple or red sheets. We can repaint the house cream or maybe another shade of blue.”

“That’s sounds lovely dear, do you like your room?”

“Yeah, it’s so cool. I’m gonna spend the entire weekend decorating it. By the way Nona, are we having a Thanksgiving dinner today or not?”

“Nah, I don’t need a day to give thanks, I can do that any time.”

“Kay, but are any stores in town open, do you think.”

“Well, I know the Silver Lining is open, and the thrift shop, and the mall, but you’d have to drive there and I don’t think your mother wants to get back on the road so soon.”

“Mm, okay.”

They fall silent and all that can be heard is the clack of each chess piece hitting the board. Freya watches each of their moves, curiously. She doesn’t quite understand her human’s interest in the game or who the girl is, so she settles down and begins to groom herself, bored now. After a few more moments the conversation picks up again.

“Well,” says Yvette. “You’ve really improved since New Year’s. By the way, will you be spending this New Year’s with me or with Sumiko?”

Sumiko is Verlaine’s other grandmother; she lives in Kyoto, Japan. “Mom and Dad haven’t decided yet, but we’ll probably be going there, but the plan for summer is still the same.”

“I see that’s good. It’s been so long since I last visited my homeland.”

“You just went to Sweden in May, you sent me postcards.”

Yvette chuckles, as she moves her king to the edge of Verlaine’s territory and knocks over the black king. “Check — mate.”

“Aw man and I needed that money too.”

“Ah don’t worry, your efforts were honorable so I’ll give you half of what we bet, you can make it up in chores.”

“Really, thanks Nona, you’re the best. Wait, what chores?”

“You didn’t think you’d be freeloading did you? Oh no, it’ll be the same as when Rune and Danielle were young, everyone has a job. I even made a schedule, it’s on the fridge.” She pulls her wallet from her skirt pocket, opens it, and hands Verlaine a fifty.

Verlaine takes it, eyeing the money dubiously. “Does that mean Mom and Dad have chores too?”

“That’s right, but you’re the first one on laundry duty. Don’t worry, my washer and dryer is brand new.”

“That’s fine by me,” Verlaine says, holding the fifty up to the light and scrutinizing it. Accepting that it’s real she pockets it. “Thanks Nona, I’m gonna go unpack.”

“Alright, thanks for the game.”

Verlaine dashes out the room as Yvette sets the chess pieces back into place. In her room, Verlaine opens one of the draws to the vanity and coughs as a cloud of dust rises out. “Looks like I’ll have to clean,” she mutters, groaning. Putting off the unpacking she runs back downstairs to ask Yvette where the cleaning supplies is and then heads to the kitchen to get them, and a garbage bag. For an hour and a half Verlaine sweeps, mops, and wipes down her room until it is spotless, then she pulls her hair out of the ponytail she put it in and opens the windows. She packs the drawers of the vanity and places her hair care products on top, so they are nice and neat. Her boots are lined on the floor of the wardrobe and she hangs up the rest of her clothes on the back rod with metal hangers. Finding a good use for the trunk, she packs all her books in it then, remembering she forgot something, goes back downstairs and outside, swiping her mom’s car keys on the way.

“I almost forgot,” she says, pulling her laptop bag from the backseat. “Hm, I don’t have a desk. Guess I’ll order one, or I can look for one tomorrow.”

Back inside she sets her laptop down on the trunk and makes her bed, tucking her gray sheets around the mattress and the heavy mauve comforter on top. Once that’s done she throws the two suitcases in the closet, plops down on the bed, and unzips her bag, dumping all the trinkets and other things inside, beside her. She picks up her dreams catcher and hangs it on the bedframe, right over her pillows, grinning. “Tomorrow I’ll look through the attic and if I can’t find anything there then I’ll see what I can find in town before I go online,” she says, picking up her stuffed bunny with its big floppy ears. “How’s that sound to you Hina?”

She makes the bunny nod, “Yes,” she says, making her voice softer. “That sounds like a lovely idea Verlaine.”

“Aw, how sweet, you still talk to Hina,” says Danielle, from the doorway.

Cheeks reddening, Verlaine shoots her mother a glare. “Mom, I know I left the door open but you could’ve knocked.”

“Oh I know I just didn’t want to disturb you.” She walks in and looks around. “Wow, you’ve really cleaned the place up; it looks almost as good as your six old bedrooms.”

“That reminds me, tomorrow will you drive me into town to buy paint and I need a desk and,” she looks around “some chairs and or a couch, something that fits the room.”

“Again I say look in the attic, there’s tons of stuff up there. But I don’t think the lights work so take your flashlight. If you can’t find anything you like your father will pay for what you need.”

“Does he know that?”

“No, but he expects it.” Danielle laughs and Verlaine shakes her head.

“Wow Mom, think I can get him to hang up my curtains too, and buy new rods, those look awful.” She jabs her thumb at the rusted metal rods for the curtains and Danielle nods.

“Alright, I guess I can pitch in too, after all this was my room. Oh yeah, don’t try and hide anything from me in here because I know this place like the back of my hand, and if you find anything beneath the floorboards it’s mine so don’t touch it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going to make a list of all the things I need, starting with a bookcase and a shelf. I’ve still got stuff in boxes. Anyways, what color should we repaint the house?”

“Why don’t you decide that dear, I’ll go make us lunch,” Danielle says from the door way.

“Alright, later,” Verlaine says, sifting through the stuff she just spilled out of her backpack and grabbing her notepad and a pen.