A Storm in the Making

Chapter 20--First Meal

Chapter Twenty

First Meal

Waking up for me, always took time. I never was one who could just jump right up out of the bed.  Today, though, every sound and smell in my world was different.  The familiar smell of stale beer and tobacco was gone.  In its stead was the sweet smell of dried grass, and a slight animal smell I couldn’t identify.

The sounds were different, too. No throbbing diesel hearts rumbling in the bowels of a boat to interrupt my sleep.  No phantom men’s voices on the other side of a thin wall talking and laughing as they bought things from Uncle’s bait shop as part of their daily ritual of gearing up for a day’s adventure on the water.

The sounds this morning were the quiet sound of a rooster crowing somewhere in the distance off to my right--blended with muffled footsteps to my left. Strange sounds that clanged like tinny-sounding alarm bells denying me sleep.

The only sound this morning that was familiar was a persistent knocking on my door and Andrew’s muffled voice calling me:

“Jeez, Storm, you gonna sleep all day in there?”  And then, “Hey, you are in there, right?”   Topped by, “Come on, Storm.  We’re gonna be late for class,” when he got no other reaction.

“Go Away!”  I hollered at Andrew, aggravated that he finished tearing me from my languor.   “We’ve already graduated, you idiot!”

“No….We haven’t, home girl.  Wizarding 101, remember?”

I pulled Grandma Weatherly’s quilt up over my head to drown out Andrew’s voice, and the animal smell grew stronger.  I wrinkled up my nose right about the time I grabbed a handful of fur.  Ew….Gross, I shuddered.

Everything came back in a rush then.  I wasn’t in Lakahatchee in my broom-closet bedroom.  I was in one of the guest bedrooms of a Travelers safe house on an entirely different planet than the one on I woke up on yesterday morning.  And, this definitely wasn’t a quilt I was wrapped up in.  It was a smelly buffalo or some other equally smelly animal robe.  Oh Yuck!  I kicked it off the bed and felt cold air on my bare skin. 

 I moved quickly then, the mattress under me making a slight squeaky noise of dried grasses rubbing together--releasing their sweet scent into the room.  A straw mattress—how medieval. 

I sprang out of the bed and slipped on my pants and robe with chattering teeth and goose bumps all over my body.  Yeah--everybody here sleeps in the altogether.  Chloe informed me of this ridiculous practice when I was about to pile into bed last night in my robe and drawstrings, as they call their pants here on this planet.

Saves on pajamas, I guess.  As a result, the only thing I wore to bed last night was the stupid necklace Dr. Spinner had put on me.  The only reason I wore the necklace was because I couldn’t get the clasp undone for some reason. I think Dr. Spinner put a hex on it so I couldn’t take it off.

 I finally felt presentable enough to answer the door.  It took me a moment to get the latch undone which was nothing more than a leather thong wrapped around a peg.  It was a crude way to keep a door closed.  I guess the leather shrank during the night.  I know I didn’t tighten it that tight.  By the time I finally managed to untwist the thong, and actually swung the door open, Andrew was already gone—naturally.  So I followed the sound of his excited voice to the edge of an open banister and peeked over and down into the living area.

I couldn’t appreciate last night the sheer size of the apartment they had assigned us.  The fireplace alone took up the whole, entire wall, overshadowing those oversized couches and chairs that faced it.  Only now, looking down on them, could I really see the size of everything.  I guess I hadn’t noticed, either, the several small, definitely homemade, end tables hugging the couches like little half-wild children.  I did remember the candles, partially-melted now like deflated balloons after a party, that sat on the little end tables.  I had been on so much information overload last night.  I hadn’t stopped to consider that the candles were there because light-giving electricity hadn’t been invented here on this planet, rather than for their ambience.