The Hevians & the World of Dreams

Chapter 1 - Gabriella

June 15th, 2005, 3:00pm

A sunny road, by the name of South Riverwood Drive, waited in tranquil silence on a Wednesday afternoon. South Riverwood had the most colorful houses in Kentucky, painted with lively hue, standing out like taffies. Colonial cookie-cutters towered side by side with their identical, spacious front yards, each with their own minivans, gardens, sprinkler systems, and meticulous landscapers.

Most of the people that lived in these houses were young and outgoing, raising families was tradition. Some neighbors had children, and some did not. However, it was typical to see kids playing and running outside during the summer tide, especially while the neighborhood gathered weekly for a cook out. Dads spent their afternoons grilling and joking around, while moms gossiped with each other and watched their children.

This week, on the fifteenth of June, the house owners noticed something. Outside was beautiful and brighter than usual; so, they opened their shutters and voile curtains to take in the alluring afternoon. The gentle rays of the sun lit up and animated the puffy clouds. Winds passed through bushes and trees. Some neighbors began to lounge in their inflatable pools under the cloudy sky.

One of the neighbors, a newly wedded wife, lived in a dandelion-yellow house at the end of the street. She poured herself a glass of lemonade and looked out of her window, seeing the pumpkin-shaped sign that stood outside in her front yard to signify her household name. This woman, Rachel Pumpkin, was a gardener who loved to plant in her backyard to match her jovial neighbors. Figuring it was a perfect day to garden, she opened her stained-glass door and headed out.

Golden-haired Rachel hummed a song and thought deliberately of her gardening, waving at a dog walker passing by. She had on her husband's shirt, a pair of yoga pants, and her outside galoshes. Holding paper packets of apple seeds, she intended to harvest the best apples in the county.

She walked to the garden in the back, admiring her pears, peaches, and sunflowers, caressing each of them carefully. She squeezed her small hands in yellow gloves, tied a matching apron around her waist, and began brushing the cool soil with her fingers, unconsciously stopping her humming. After a focused moment, she heard someone pounding at her front door.

Furrowing her eyebrows at the thought of someone damaging her glass door, she clenched her gloved hands as she got up. She paced toward her door to widen her green eyes at a peculiar person—or a peculiar man based off of his broad shoulders—but he was dressed in a snow-white cloak, which was unusual in this heat. He was holding a basket in his hands. As Rachel studied him for a few seconds, she also noticed that he was wearing a golden mask and a hood that completely covered up his head. This was an extremely strange sight to see in the middle of a Kentucky summer.

"Hey! Welcome to South Riverwood! Is there anything--?" Rachel started to ask, but as soon as the cloaked figure saw her, he set the mysterious basket down carefully and dashed from her, his cloak flapping as he fled. Rachel was instantly confused and continued to watch the man run. He acted as if the basket contained a bomb.

Speechless and wide-eyed, she had never seen anything so bizarre in her neighborhood. She neared the basket on her front porch cautiously and leaned in, and could not believe her eyes. Inside the basket was not a bomb, a trap, or something that would instill her with fear. Right in front of her was a sobbing newborn, with faint traces of brown hair, and eyes as green as emeralds. The baby must have been a she, with such an elegant, floral headband on and a sequin dress that matched her eyes. She noticed Rachel and continued crying. Rachel's heart was touched and wondered when the last time she was fed, bathed, or held. Rachel's heart sank at the thought of the child being separated from her mother.

Rachel knew she had to report this to the police. As Rachel stepped over to the basket to take it, she noticed it was not a basket, but a wooden rocking crib. The side was etched with some word she couldn't understand. It did not look English. She carefully grasped the handle and carried it inside.