Cabin Fever | ✓

Prologue

Sunday, November 23rd 2010
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"I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy and free."

"What does that mean momma?" Marley asked, shifting in her lap and squinting at the hundreds of words littering the tiny pages in front of her.

Her mother's arms tightened around her, "It means that you have to read it one day to find out."

Marley stomped the heel of her running shoe into the grass, being able to reach due to her mother sitting cross-legged.

The park was desolate, deserted. It was always dangerous to go to open areas where they lived. But every Sunday, her mother took her anyway. Today the sun was bright and warm, but everything was shades darker here.

"I want to know, nowww."

"But where's the fun in that, sweetheart? Besides, if I spoil a timeless piece of literature such as Wuthering Heights, before you're even old enough to understand it? Cruel."

Marley's fingers reached out for the worn book, brushing tiny, fleshy fingers along the pages.

"What's it about, momma?" She asked gently, big hazel eyes regarding the one thing she felt closest to her mother with. This is the only thing they ever did together.

Marley sat on her lap, and she read silently, sometimes speaking to her.

Her mother let out a loud sigh, "It's about evil. And people. And greed and selfishness and bad people and bad choices."

Marley's little lips turned down in a pout, "But people are good. People are not bad."

Marley felt her mother's soft hand brush along her shoulder length coffee brown strands on the back of her head, and leaned into the comforting touch, "People are good and bad, Marley. That's precisely what makes us human. Sin mal no hay humanidad."

"No entiendo, Momma." she blinked in confusion, her young ears not able to pick up the quick, fluent Spanish her mother possessed.

"One day, you will. You'll understand Wuthering Heights, too. And hopefully, you'll come across someone who loves you as much as Heathcliff loves Catherine."

Little Marley frowned cutely, "Like a boyfriend? Like a boy? Ew" she wrinkled her nose, "They're all gross except for Tyson."

"The 27 year old Cowboy's quarterback? Your dad is corrupting you, sweetheart. You can't date a Quarterback."

Marley's dainty face turned down in disappointment. She was almost as sad as the day her brother told her the tooth fairy was created by Pepsi.

And then her eyes lit up, "I'm going to find one! I'm going to find a quarterback, Momma. Just like Tyson and Mckinny and Underwood."

Her mother's thin body shook as she laughed, but there was a sad edge to it that Marley didn't understand.

"You can't pick someone for one quality, usually others lack that way and you're disappointed. It's the bigger picture of who someone is Marley, deep inside. I've always told you to never write someone off on their mistakes. Find what's beneath and don't give until you do."

Her small hand dove for the grass by her mother's bent knee and curled some in her fists, tugging thoughtfully, "All quarterbacks are heroes, momma."

"Heroes?" Her mother's laugh turned mocking, "please no, sweetheart. Never go searching for a hero."

By now she had a clump of grass in her hands. She let it slip through her fingers.

"But I don't want a villain boy. I want a hero boy. To save me from a tower like a princess."

"Someone doesn't have to be a hero to do the rescuing. They just have to have a little spark of good inside, at just the right time. I don't like heroes Marley. You shouldn't either."

"Prince Charming?! I love Prince Charming." she rambled, remembering her Cinderella Barbie back home with fondness.

"Heroes don't really exist," her mother's voice was tight now, strained, "there are either people who pretend to be one, and people who know they aren't. Choose one who knows he isn't. Unless you like girls, that's okay too."

Marley paused for a couple seconds in deliberation, "I like boys." she decided firmly, "I want a boyfriend now."

Her mother laughed and it was an airy, whimsical sound, like music, "One day, when your father lets you and when we know he's going to treat you right."

Marley shrugged, her young mind already moving on. Her mother had set the book down so she reached for it, making sure to touch gentle like her mother taught her.

"Can this be mine one day?" She asked.

"Of course it can. It'll be a piece of me with you when I'm not anymore."

"Momma?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Catherine loves Heathcliff right?"

Her mother held her tighter, "Like the stars love the sky. Like the moon loves the sun. Like trees love soil and lungs love air. Like I love you."

"I love you too, momma."

She let out pealing giggles as her mother gently tickled her sides, "Now tell me who the boy is. I know you like one."

Her hazel eyes widened defensively. She rolled off her mother's lap, turning to face her for the first time.

Camila Hoover had her midnight black hair, soft as silk, in a pile on top of her head, tied with a white scrunchie.

Her body was thin, her facial features dainty and her Spanish origins giving her dark, caramel skin. She had stunning, hazel eyes her daughter inherited. When she smiled, it lit up Marley's whole world.

She didn't like it when her mother cried. Or when her mother was sad. This park, Wuthering Heights, are special places where there are no tears and no pain and no sadness.

"I don't like any boys." she huffed, crossing her arms cutely, "They're all stupid and silly. All they do is talk and throw things and play sports and make fun of us."

"All boys are like that, sweetie. I don't think they ever grow up."

She jutted out her chin, "Gabby and I presented our project on Isaac Newton's laws of motion this week and this stupid boy was laughing and talking the whole time, right in the back."

Her mother smiled softly, "Did he see you?"

"No! I play with Gabby, always. I don't want him to see me! He's a stupid, blue eyed Devil!"

She huffed, brushing the dark brown strands in front of her face, away. Her mother stood, brushing grass off her legs and she reluctantly followed suit.

"I don't think he's the Devil, sweetie. I think he's just a silly boy. Chances are you'll meet him someday and he'll be nicer."

Little Marley scoffed while her mother took her hand, "I will never meet him. I just want to play with Gabby."

While they walked back along the path towards home, her mother swung their clasped hands, making a tsk sound through her teeth.

"Never say never, Marley, or you might just jinx it."

***