Krishani had planned but Elwen would try.
***
Chapter 5
Forest Fire
Maeva woke to the sound of water crashing into a stream—again. She pushed pillows aside and groaned, the comforting dream fading away. It never changed: the path through the forest, rocks, and waterfalls. Her heart hammered as she moved to the dresser and pulled out a pair of black shorts and camisole. Her clock read 6:00 am Even though it was early she was wide-awake, remnants of the crashing water turning to a drizzle in the back of her mind. She shed the nightgown and dressed, grabbed her pre-packed survival kit her father Gord forced her to take on all her canoe trips. She took a quick look at herself in the mirror but really, she was going to be in the forest until sunset, she wasn’t going to encounter anything but bugs, squirrels, and maybe a rabbit.
There was nothing new about her appearance. Hazel eyes, pale skin, button nose, oval shaped face framed by night black curls. She drew her hair into a ponytail, winding the length of it into a bun, securing it with a scrunchie. She glanced at the twin bed against the wall and smoothed out the fluffy white comforter. The rest of her room was pretty plain. A rickety wooden dresser sat across from the bed, the bottom left shelf forever falling out when she opened it. She used that drawer for stories and poetry, and anything else she didn’t want her mom to find, like the deck of tarot cards she’d bought from the bookstore downtown. Her clothes overflowed on a chair next to the dresser. Her room didn’t have a desk or computer, but her mom had one upstairs in the living room. She unfortunately had to share it with her brother, Scott.
She slung the backpack over her shoulder and took the steps two at a time, emerging in the kitchen. She grabbed a water bottle from the freezer, and glanced at her mom, Grace, sitting at the table staring off into space, cigarette in hand, ashtray below. Ringlets of smoke fogged the air. She glanced at Maeva, a distant look on her face, which turned sharp the moment she recognized her.
“You’re not going to find it you know,” she said, voice flat.
Maeva tucked her head, trying to avoid her mother and moved around the big oak table to where her converse sneakers were. She pulled them on and tied the laces. “I’ll stop looking when school starts again.” She tried to sound cheerful.
Grace tapped her cigarette on the side of the ashtray. Maeva eyed the floral patterned nightgown covering her mother from foot to neck, something she’d learned from her good Christian upbringing. “For god’s sake, Maeva, you’re seventeen. You think you’d given up already,” Grace rasped.
Maeva grabbed her black and yellow lifejacket off the rack behind the door, cringing. Her mother wasn’t compassionate, supportive, or even friendly. The past three summers Maeva spent most of her time with her dad, combing Lake of the Woods, certain she’d find what she had been dreaming about for as long as she could remember. She tried not to look pained when she faced her mother, but there was a constricted feeling in her throat. She focused on her breathing, attempting to ease the anxiety. The last thing she needed was a repeat of the conversation about group therapy. She didn’t need therapy she needed … something else, but she wasn’t sure what. “I need to …” her voice cracked and tears threatened to erupt. If she didn’t leave now she was going to cry.
“I expect you home for lunch.” Grace knew her too well, knew when she was about to fall apart but unlike most parents Grace didn’t give up, she let the venom fall from her lips no matter what state Maeva was in.
Maeva bit her bottom lip and wrenched the back door open, unable to speak as she fled down the two steps into the backyard. She crossed the lot in a few long strides, avoiding the debris Scott hadn’t bothered to clean up. Evergreens bordered their part of Goat Island, leaving enough room for a pier
***
Chapter 5
Forest Fire
Maeva woke to the sound of water crashing into a stream—again. She pushed pillows aside and groaned, the comforting dream fading away. It never changed: the path through the forest, rocks, and waterfalls. Her heart hammered as she moved to the dresser and pulled out a pair of black shorts and camisole. Her clock read 6:00 am Even though it was early she was wide-awake, remnants of the crashing water turning to a drizzle in the back of her mind. She shed the nightgown and dressed, grabbed her pre-packed survival kit her father Gord forced her to take on all her canoe trips. She took a quick look at herself in the mirror but really, she was going to be in the forest until sunset, she wasn’t going to encounter anything but bugs, squirrels, and maybe a rabbit.
There was nothing new about her appearance. Hazel eyes, pale skin, button nose, oval shaped face framed by night black curls. She drew her hair into a ponytail, winding the length of it into a bun, securing it with a scrunchie. She glanced at the twin bed against the wall and smoothed out the fluffy white comforter. The rest of her room was pretty plain. A rickety wooden dresser sat across from the bed, the bottom left shelf forever falling out when she opened it. She used that drawer for stories and poetry, and anything else she didn’t want her mom to find, like the deck of tarot cards she’d bought from the bookstore downtown. Her clothes overflowed on a chair next to the dresser. Her room didn’t have a desk or computer, but her mom had one upstairs in the living room. She unfortunately had to share it with her brother, Scott.
She slung the backpack over her shoulder and took the steps two at a time, emerging in the kitchen. She grabbed a water bottle from the freezer, and glanced at her mom, Grace, sitting at the table staring off into space, cigarette in hand, ashtray below. Ringlets of smoke fogged the air. She glanced at Maeva, a distant look on her face, which turned sharp the moment she recognized her.
“You’re not going to find it you know,” she said, voice flat.
Maeva tucked her head, trying to avoid her mother and moved around the big oak table to where her converse sneakers were. She pulled them on and tied the laces. “I’ll stop looking when school starts again.” She tried to sound cheerful.
Grace tapped her cigarette on the side of the ashtray. Maeva eyed the floral patterned nightgown covering her mother from foot to neck, something she’d learned from her good Christian upbringing. “For god’s sake, Maeva, you’re seventeen. You think you’d given up already,” Grace rasped.
Maeva grabbed her black and yellow lifejacket off the rack behind the door, cringing. Her mother wasn’t compassionate, supportive, or even friendly. The past three summers Maeva spent most of her time with her dad, combing Lake of the Woods, certain she’d find what she had been dreaming about for as long as she could remember. She tried not to look pained when she faced her mother, but there was a constricted feeling in her throat. She focused on her breathing, attempting to ease the anxiety. The last thing she needed was a repeat of the conversation about group therapy. She didn’t need therapy she needed … something else, but she wasn’t sure what. “I need to …” her voice cracked and tears threatened to erupt. If she didn’t leave now she was going to cry.
“I expect you home for lunch.” Grace knew her too well, knew when she was about to fall apart but unlike most parents Grace didn’t give up, she let the venom fall from her lips no matter what state Maeva was in.
Maeva bit her bottom lip and wrenched the back door open, unable to speak as she fled down the two steps into the backyard. She crossed the lot in a few long strides, avoiding the debris Scott hadn’t bothered to clean up. Evergreens bordered their part of Goat Island, leaving enough room for a pier
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