Chapter Twenty-NineA Chapter by ScottWinchester Somewhere, in the valleys of
her mind, she remembered that song. The soft piano, the slow melody, the peaceful melody. Where had she heard
that song before…? It brought images to her: a bridge at night, and the sound
of water, that piano, the keys played so beautifully, and his voice… Outside the window from where she laid she could see the
sky, a crystalline blue; the leaves danced in the breeze, causing the sunlight
to flicker in her sight. If this was a dream… it was a good dream… “This isn’t a dream,” she heard. Then, with a chuckle:
“Rise and shine, Darling.” Only then did she register the feeling of a hand
interlaced with hers, a strong hand. She turned her head to the sound of the
voice, her eyes squinting from the brightness of the sunlit room. Eyes of the most gorgeous colors looked back at her. Soft
grey, sharp sapphire, and easy emerald. Elijah gave her hand a squeeze. The look he gave her was
one she knew well; she’d worn it herself as she stared at him from long
distances. It was a look of yearning, a desire to touch, to be a part of. Being
looked at that way by him was like being born again. No one spoke yet everyone smiled down on her, giving her
time to breath, to think. But she didn’t know what to think. “What…?” she asked. “How…?” “Never mind that right now,” Eli said. He lifted her hand
to his lips and planted a kiss on the tender place in the dead center of her
palm. “Later…” How were they all even alive? None of it made sense to her, but the answers would come in
time. For now… The soft piano played on. Her eyes began to close;
Dominic chuckled, Vee smiled, and Eli never let go; and she slept.
And so the story went: The fire climbed and the building died. Nicolle took Elijah’s wound on herself, not healing him completely
but enough. Enough for him to be back
in the game. He went to Nicolle first, pouring within her the cooling touch of
his White Artistry; he felt the urge to move quickly, frantically, knowing that
the school was almost done. Once he got Nicolle out of the red, he went to Vee
and Dominic; never before, he later said, had he worked on two people simultaneously,
much less two people with gunshot wounds. “You’re a Beaumont,” Natalia said, puffin on her cigar
nonchalantly. Vee came around first, with barely the strength to move; Dominic
came second. And then, as the flames poured through the doorway, using the very
last strength in his being, Dominic teleported them all away. For a few days the Beaumont home was their hospital, and Elijah
worked his magic. He healed faster than the others, and ate nothing but the
most nutritious foods to supplement the work he was doing on the others.
Natalia and Ian both knew some first aid as well; they helped Eli where they
could, removing the slugs from their bodies, finding medications to help with
the healing process; they also acted as security, just in case, and Natalia’s
hand almost never left the gun at her side. Peter’s family, it was confirmed, had moved, and taken Peter with
them. Nicolle understood why; after what had happened to Elyse, and then the
school itself, the love of a family brought out the need to protect. Or
embrace. One evening a woman came into Elijah’s room " the room where
Nicolle had been set into; she could smell Elijah on his pillow as she rested "
and identified herself as LeeAnn. She never gave her last name but Nicolle
didn’t need it; her hair was Elijah’s, as was the shape of her eyes, the
kindness of her features. It was his mother. She looked into Nicolle’s Black Eyes, the same color as her
husband, seven years gone. Nicolle wondered if she was mad, mad at the
remembrance those eyes brought, mad at the fact that Artists had taken over her
home, made that Nicolle’s ex-friend Timmy had put a bullet in both of her sons. She knelt beside the bed, as in to pray, and wept. She’d heard the
story from someone, the story of how Nicolle did not know she was going to live
as she gave her life to save Elijah. Therefore, not ten minutes from seeing
each other for the very first time, LeeAnn told Nicolle that she loved her.
They cried together, and LeeAnn thanked her for saving her son. All the while, Nicolle thought about a napkin, a promise to live,
inside Eli’s glovebox. There was a word printed on it, the name of the
restaurant. DESTINY. And Nicolle gave thought to her future.
In the week that followed the day of the lights, the news stations
were alive with coverage of “The Massacre of Maple Hill”. Forty-seven hearts
stopped beating that day as a result of gunfire or flame; forty-three students
and five faculty members. Timmy Stoker was included among the dead, identified
by several as the lone gunman. His picture was constantly up; none of them
depicted him at his later, angrier stages. Instead, each picture showed him
grinning, or waving, or laughing; there was a picture of him dressed as an ogre
for some convention, and a picture of him provided by the school from when he
was in the math club, and even a picture of him and Nicolle, taken by his
mother years ago, Nicolle looking politely uncomfortable, Timmy looking
euphoric. Timmy’s mom was interviewed eventually. She was overcome with
shock and dismay, nearly unable to talk from it. News analyst talked about
Timmy as if they knew him, talking about his “violent video games” and “dark,
hateful personality”; students told stories on air that were surely made up,
stories of Timmy chasing them with his car or spying on them through their
windows. Or were those stories true? She had to admit, she didn’t know him
anymore. She wasn’t even convinced he was dead; neither Elijah, Vee, or Dom
said they saw his body outside the door once they regained consciousness, and
rescue crews never found his remains among the wreckage. She was included among the dead as well, as was Elijah Beaumont,
Dominic Beaumont, and Ashley van Valen “known to her classmates and friends as
‘Vee’,” a news anchor sadly opined. Their pictures, along with the others
included in the forty-seven dead, showed in montages constantly, complete with
sad music playing in the background. Natalia and Ian went with Vee to her home
to see her parents before the story broke, and at long, long last, they were
told the truth about everything, about Artists, about the Chess Club, and about
Kincaid Gardens. Nicolle never heard how Cora and Edward took the news, but Vee
continued to come around and looked happy. LeeAnn, of course, needed to be told
nothing, knowing already that her sons were alive and well. Nicolle opted to
not tell her mother that she’d survived; she couldn’t place a reason on why, but it certainly wasn’t cruelty.
No… it was a bid for freedom. “You’ll need new identities,” Natalia said once. “You can’t run
around as dead people… someone will notice.” “Thank God!” Vee said, throwing her hands up. “I can finally get
rid of carrying Ashley around all the
time! It’s official! My name’s now Vivian!” Nicolle had a name picked out already. It had a particular dark
edge to it, a brooding... something... that suggested Nicolle was more
dangerous than she actually was. Or was she dangerous now? Had she grown into
it? Salem worked just fine.
Nicolle hadn’t intended on going to her own funeral, but somehow
she did. They stood on a hill in the distance, looking down on the small
group that met to pay their last respects. More people showed up than Nicolle
ever would have expected, even Timmy’s mom. She was buried next to Adam, though
she never got close enough to see what the tombstone read. She watched as the
funeral goers slowly walked away; her eyes found her mother, the last one to
leave the grave, and she was astonished to see her mother wipe her eyes with a
cloth. Then " causing her heart to lurch " her mother sank to her knees and
cried. She would never, ever see her mother again… and yet, suddenly… she
wished that she would. Had that desire been there all along, a desire for
catharsis, for reconciliation? She supposed it didn’t matter now. She hadn’t expected Granddaddy Longlegs to come, walking up slowly
from thin air once everyone else was gone. His glow was the same as Adam’s, and
his white garments blew from the same unseen wind. She longed to go down to
him, to see him one last time… The air filled with the scent of raspberry candles and cigars; a
hand emerged from nowhere, the hand of a woman an angel reaching out to him. She thought she heard a voice; she strained
her ears to hear. “I’ve missed you, old gal,” she thought she heard Granddaddy Longlegs say before, just as Adam
had once done, his appearance changed. Standing before her grave down there was
a man of about twenty-five, handsome and strong. He took the hand offered to
him, he was enveloped in a blinding light, and he was gone.
Eventually they found their way back to Riverlove Run. Standing
alone out by the water shortly after, she heard someone say Nicky; Adam and Isley had come to visit.
It didn’t escape her how closely the spirit girl clung to her brother, and
Nicolle felt that odd jab of jealously again. But she was happy for them; she
intended to ask him if spirits could date. “Will you be moving on now?” She asked. “Moving on?” His voice echoed. “Like Granddaddy did,” Nicolle said, pointing up, for some reason.
“On.” Adam smiled and shook his head. “You’ve displayed just how reckless a life you intend to lead, Miss
Salem. Wolf-Boy needs to be nearby, to protect you.” She almost told him no, to forget about that, to take Isley and
find rest on the other side. But she remembered looking down Hugo Reid’s gun
barrel, feeling that fear, and then remembered the hope she felt when Adam
emerged to stand between her and danger once again. Natalia and Ian did not
mince words; the Unseen Society was out there, and it danger existed still.
They never found the getaway car used by the Evil Three, seeming to suggest
that they’d properly escaped and joined that revolutionary movement. What did
her future hold? She couldn’t bring herself to lose Adam just yet… … besides, she told
herself, I’d miss him. Her future was uncertain. Everyone talked of Kincaid Gardens, of
those beautiful ivy-covered buildings, of the bell towers, of the life beyond
Savannah. Nicolle talked along with them, but beneath, something was missing.
She’d catch Elijah staring at her during these discussions and she’d stare
back, and though they never actually said it, the words were there. I vow to begin living, it was as if Nicolle said with her Black Eyes. As do I, Eli’s White Eyes replied.
“Is everyone ready?” Natalia asked. Dom’s Cherokee was loaded down
with things; it looked as if he were preparing to go to college. He kind of
was, Vee thought. And she was too; all of her crap was stuffed up in there was
well. Natalia’s super-car (Vee never had been good with makes and models) was
parked in front of the Cherokee in the Riverlove Run driveway. They were going
to drive through the night. It was time. Vee had a nostalgic burn in her chest. This was goodbye to
Savannah… the end of an era. Memories came to her and went as they loaded up
their things; memories of meeting Dom and Eli, memories of seeing Nicolle step
into Room 44, memories of bon fires, and sleep overs, and times long past. The end of one era. The beginning of another. She wondered what it would be like, enrolled in an Artist academy,
learning about Artistries. It sounded like a hoot. And Dom was excited.
Excited? No, Dom was about to wet himself.
“It’s like I’m following in dad’s footsteps,” he said, tossing his
duffel bag into the Cherokee. “Living his dream… going out, studying
Artistries, meeting other Artists, seeing the world…” Vee watched him talk and smiled. What words were there in moments
like these? There were none. Only gestures sufficed. All you could do was
smile, she thought… or kiss… For a moment Dom and Vee merely stared at one another, the sun
setting through the trees. She loved that shade of green in his eyes… “What’s on your mind?” Dom asked, looking confused. Vee thought about it… then shrugged and smiled. “There’s no words,” she said. He grinned back. Whether he took her meaning or not… she didn’t
know. “Alright kids,” Natalia said, emerging from the cabin for one last
time. “Everybody’s had their potty break? I’m ready to get home,
see my cat, kick my feet up… and tell my boss just how big of a scumbag Hugo
Reid is.” “I’m ready,” Dom said, taking a deep, excited breath. Vee smiled. “Vee ze girl vonder is ready, az well.” Natalia paused on the way to her car, looked at the sky with a
huff and a puff, and then looked back to Vee. “Are you sure Nicolle doesn’t want to come with us?” She had no answer for Natalia.
Perhaps a day would come when Nicolle Darling would find her way to the place
Natalia spoke of. If so, Vee would welcome the sight of her dear friend. She had
watched her grow; watched her stand up to the mother who mishandled her;
watched her fall in love with the boy of her dreams; watched her cry for the
fallen; watched her offer compassion when so seldom it was offered to her. Vee
would welcome the sight of her if she saw those Black Eyes again on that day.
But for now, it was goodbye. She wondered if, wherever Nicolle
Darling was now… it was just a beautiful as she’d seen it in her dreams… She once was caged. No more. At
long, long last… she was free.
Sand cooled by the night mashed in
between her toes as she stepped out onto the shore. The sun was not yet up. But it was
almost up. A pink line had ripped across the
horizon, and above, stars decorated the sky. The drive had been all night; the
top was down and the rock songs played loud into the midnight wind; first she’d
said goodbye to Savannah, then hello to Carolina, and then, mounting the sand
dunes of the coast, she saw the tip of it with her own eyes. Tybee Lighthouse was higher up than
she ever would have guessed. A powerful beam of light blasted out from the top
and across the sea, limitless in its scope, knowing no boundaries. Salem smiled. She knew the feeling. The surf washed in over her feet;
the water was cold, and yet it was perfect. His hand worked into hers. She looked up at him. He looked down at her and smiled. The dawn began to break over the
ocean, and they watched it, hand-in-hand.
Scott Winchester Bethel, Alabama August 2010 May 2013 © 2017 ScottWinchesterFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
868 Views
3 Reviews  Last Updated on October 5, 2017 Author
ScottWinchesterCullman, ALAboutThis is the official page for Scott Winchester's THE CHESS CLUB. Nicolle Darling knows all about unhappy living. Friendless, broke, and abused, she spends her time reminiscing about the days when h.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|
prev chapter
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
