Divine Mortals (2 page)

My Pop has a thing for pickups, he always has to have them new and top of the range, he treats them like they’re his children, polishing and waxing them every other day and never letting them get older than a couple of years before updating to the latest shiny object of his total devotion. I wondered briefly what I would drive, I doubted it would be this.

With a strength that went against his years Pop swung both cases easily into the bed of the pickup, before giving me a quick smile and jumping into the drivers’ seat.

So far so good, they were treating me normally, maybe the sympathy was best left in Chicago, that way we could all get on with our lives, even if our lives were totally different to what they had been just two weeks ago.

We drove through the main street of town, it was wide and looked almost deserted with only one set of traffic lights at the main intersection.

Pop waved to a number of people he knew, calling greetings to them through the open window.

It was already like a bad country film, I wouldn’t have been surprised if banjo music started to play.

There were only a few shops scattered along the main street, a bank, the grocery store, a few diners and cafes and the token hardware store. Nan was chatting away easily in the front seat, never needing acknowledgement or answer, she was just chatting to make noise as we moved from the towns limits onto the open road.

The turnoff to my grandparent’s ranch was only a few miles out of town, however the track to the house was about five miles long, unsealed and bumpy, it lead us towards the hills and mountains that lined the valley Huntington was home to.

As we turned onto the track we passed under a large wooden sign that swung gently above the road.

‘River Stone’

My grandparents had named the ranch for the huge river that runs its length. It was beautiful from what I could remember, great for swimming in the summer with huge Willow trees lining its banks, their low hanging branches trailing the water below and creating a green curtain on either side, blocking the view of the meadows beyond.

Grans voice broke through my thoughts,

“We’ve given you the room with the en-suite love, thought you would prefer that, the other guest rooms are bigger but they don’t have their own bathroom.”

“Oh that’s fine.” I answered, I hadn’t even considered which room might be mine, actually I had tried not to think about this move at all.

“Got you a horse too love,” Pops voice chimed in, I saw him glance at me in the rear vision mirror, ready to judge my reaction.

“You what!” my voice broke slightly, I fought the urge to panic.

“He’s a good boy Ava, he’ll be a great one to learn on.”

“Oh, ah…” I didn’t know what else to say, a large rock shifted into the pit of my stomach and my palms started to sweat, I rubbed them off on my shorts.

So they wouldn’t kill me with sympathy after all, they would do it more quickly and painfully via falling to my death and being trampled under iron shod hooves.

I, like most girls, loved horses as a child until the last fateful trip I had made to the ranch when I was twelve.

Showing off to one of the farm hands I had taken a fall and broken my arm. Since then I had never been on a horse again and never wanted to.

I decided to keep quiet on the horse subject, I didn’t want to hurt Pops feelings, he was obviously very proud of his gift and from the self-congratulatory look he wore he had mistaken my terror for wordless amazement.

I turned my attention to the ranch again, either side of us as far as I could see were fields, long grass rippled in the wind making the landscape move like waves on the ocean. In the distance I could make out the shapes of hundreds of grazing cattle, cattle I wasn’t so afraid of, much, perhaps because I knew they were even more scared of me then I was of them, unlike horses.

It was late afternoon and the sun was high in the sky and moving steadily towards the mountains, I was looking forward to bed.

Pop slowed a bit and I noticed we were approaching three small log cabins set just off the track.

“Workers huts.” Pop explained simply as we drove past, these were new since I was last here.

The three huts looked small, no more than one bedroom in each judging by the size of them and they were identical, windows and doors all in the same places with a dainty chimney poking through the top left hand side of each of the three iron roofs.

A minute later we approached the back of two large sheds set on either side of the track. I turned to look back at them as we drove between the two buildings, remembering that these were the machinery shed and stables.

The stables was a huge timber building, its large double doors thrown open, with horses grazing in small pens set to the right of it. I shuddered, wondering which one of these were mine.

Directly ahead of us was the homestead. The six bedroom giant had whitewashed timber walls with an iron roof that hung over all sides forming a huge porch. I guess you would call it colonial.

A hammock, swaying gently in the breeze, was set at one end of the porch and just outside the back door a wooden outdoor setting stood next to a portable barbeque.

Very country.

I hadn’t visited the ranch in over five years, but the house never changed, it stood now looking the same as it always had.

“Home sweet home,” Nan smiled, turning in her seat to look at me as Pop bought the vehicle to a stop. I wasn’t sure what to say so I gave her the best smile I could conjure, even as I felt my lips wobble.

“Here we are.” Pops words echoed my thoughts, and I took a deep shaky breath before stepping out of the pickup.

Home sweet home.

T
he rest of the afternoon passed quickly, it was almost dinner when we arrived and my grandparents, thankfully, had left me alone in my new room to ‘unpack and get comfortable’.

I didn’t unpack any more than the fresh set of clothes I needed after taking a long hot shower. The en-suite had been refurbished since I had last visited, it was by far the most modern room in the house with its bronze taps and shiny tiles.

Nan had made a lovely home style roast beef for my first night and her and Pop proceeded to distract me with inane chatter and town gossip until it was suitably late enough for me to make my excuses and go to bed.

I lay still, listening; it was so quiet here, and dark. There were none of the usual sounds I was used to at night, no noise from the street outside or soft glow of street lights through my curtains.

Just silence.

In truth it was a little scary, that silence, another facet to this unfamiliar new life.

Sleep over the last two weeks had consisted of a black nothingness, a dark void so deep that I woke feeling numb. But tonight the colors and sounds of sleep were back again, although the dream itself was unsettling.

The field was huge, trees lined the outer perimeter, like distant shadowy guards, I could only just make out their silhouettes in the dark. Rain ran down my neck, and I could hear the drops splashing loudly as they hit the ground around me.

Turning from left to right I tried to recognize my surroundings.

A man stood before me, startling me, his face hidden in shadows, his identity secret. It didn’t matter what angle I tried to see him from, I couldn’t make out his features. He didn’t unnerve me, quite the opposite actually, I felt safe in his presence, I trusted him instantly and completely.

I tried to stand, everything would be okay now that he was with me. But I couldn’t move, I could only sit there looking up at him, unable to get any closer even though my entire being ached to be near him.

He was afraid of something, and that knowledge made my blood run cold until I no longer felt the icy rain running down my back.

His face jerked up, focusing somewhere over my shoulder, past where I was huddled in the wet slippery grass. His focus fixed on something behind me, his fear turning instantly to anger at what he saw, anger that radiated from him with so much intensity that I could almost feel the vibration of it. I turned my head slowly to look over my shoulder, following the line of his gaze. Another man stood in the distance behind me, masked completely in black. There was no color to him, no defining features, he was a dark figure, someone that I feared, someone black to their very soul, except for his eyes which shone a brilliant emerald green.

In that instant the man in front of me leapt at the black figure in a movement so swift, so fast that my eyes couldn’t follow it, I ducked screaming in fear for him.

My scream woke me.

I clasped my hands over my mouth, humiliated. I had never dreamed so vividly before, I waited a full minute for my breathing to return to normal, straining my ears the entire time to see if either of my grandparents had heard me or if they were coming to investigate.

The house remained silent, the creaking boards of the ancient structure the only sound I could hear. A breeze came through my window carrying the whiney of a horse on it, but no footfalls, no human noise, apparently I had to be thankful for the hearing loss that came with age. I hadn’t woken them.

I moved my hand slowly from my mouth, breathing deeply, trying to remember what had happened in my dream to make me scream. I had the vague memory of a field and rain but that was all, like most dreams I was unable to recall the details upon waking. Although I couldn’t shake the feeling of terror, not fear for myself, I was terrified beyond imagination for someone else, I just wasn’t sure who.

I ran my hands through my hair trying to clear my thoughts, to think of something else, anything to shake the unease of my nightmare.

I glanced at my clock, it was just after five, this instantly lifted my mood. I had managed to sleep most of the night, without a pill, that hadn’t happened in a while.

A soft clanging noise carried to me though the open window, stepping gently from my bed I made my way silently across the soft carpet, pulling back the curtains.

The sky had lightened from the pitch black of night to the deep blue of pre-dawn, I looked towards the machinery shed where I could still hear noises. Murmured voices carried occasionally on the wind to me, the ranch hands, already up and preparing for the day. I rested my chin on my hands watching their indistinct shapes move through the dark. A light switched on inside the stable, gently glowing out across the yard from beneath the large doors and within a couple of minutes one of the hands led three horses into the early morning light. He was quickly joined by two others and I listened to their hoof beats fade into the distance as they galloped off towards paddocks still enveloped in darkness.

I walked slowly back towards my bed, far too awake now to sleep again. Flicking on my lamp I took in my new room.

It was very plainly decorated, a guest room before my arrival, the walls were a pale cream and completely void of any pictures or paintings, the large double windows I had been standing at were surrounded by soft yellow drapes. On the opposite side of my room was the door to my bathroom, next to this was the only thing that hung on the wall, a full length mirror.

My eyes moved back to my suitcases, sitting where I had left them, neatly next to the wardrobe.

Swinging my legs out of bed once more I crossed the room slowly towards my luggage, now or never, it was time to unpack.

By the time my unpacking was done and I had showered and arranged my toiletries in the bathroom it was just after seven. I could hear Nan banging around in the kitchen, it seemed that ranch life meant early starts, I sighed inwardly. I had never traditionally been an early riser, and once my sleep patterns got back to normal, if they ever did, I would hate that. I hoped they didn’t expect me up at the crack of dawn every morning.

I stretched, reaching my arms high above my head feeling my muscles spark and pull along their lengths.

Wandering down the long hallway to the kitchen was like taking a trip down memory lane, a very painful trip. Numerous family photos hung on the walls its entire length and I tried not to look at them, not yet. This hallway had always scared me as a child, it was so long and dimly lit, like a room from out of a nightmare with six doors leading off of it, three each side. It was even more frightening now with its images of happy memories and snapshots from the past.

Leaving behind the darkness of the hallway I hustled into Nans old kitchen, the sun was streaming in through the large windows above the sink, the kitchen was painted a pale cream that kept it bright and airy looking, despite its aged décor.

Nans back was to me as she stirred something in a pot on the stove top.

“Good Morning love, sleep well?” her grey eyebrows arched to emphasize the question.

I sidled up next to her, peeking over her shoulder into the saucepan.

“Wow, is that porridge?” I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten porridge and definitely not porridge made on the stove top, I was more of a microwave guru.

“Sure is dear, it’s ready if you’d like some?”

Nan dished me up a large helping which I preceded to cover in milk and brown sugar. It was delicious and I burnt my mouth more times than I could count as I wolfed it down far too quickly. Pop came in as I was scraping my plate clean, his clothes already dirty from jobs outdoors.

“Hungry?” he joked,

“Apparently,” I laughed out loud, startling myself, it seemed like forever since I had laughed, and the sound of it surprised me, something about this place was making me feel lighter than I had in weeks and I clung to that, desperate not to let it fade.

Perhaps it had been the great sleep, I wasn’t sure, but the survival part of my subconscious had reared its head again this morning, stronger than it had been in days.

After I cleared my plate and excused myself I grabbed my iPod and headed towards the hammock I had seen hanging on the porch last night. It was still early and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with the day, let alone the seven weeks remaining until school went back.