15: Ethereal

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Ethereal (adjective): extremely delicate and light in a way that seems to perfect for this world.

 

It’s dark, and we have about a day more until we reach Trenton. I walk out on the deck. I think I am alone.

I look out at the moon. I close my eyes and all at once I allow memories that I kept locked away resurface, they gasp for air, gasping for a part in my life.

“Who’s coming to town?” Cora asks our mother at dinner after my father got news that morning in town that The Captain would be coming.

My mother would never tell Cora who was coming. We never wanted her to know that people like The Captain existed.

“A prince.” My mother says. Sometimes it was a prince, sometimes it was a magician, or a wish granting fairy.

“Mother.” Cora is getting to old for this, and at eleven, and by her tone I could tell that she just wanted to know what we all were talking about.

“Oh Corrie, don’t grow up on me.” My mother tells her.

“Where do Ava and Maddie always go?” Cora asks.

“We go camping.” Avaline tells her.

“But you hate camping.” Cora counters.

“But I go for Madelyn.” Avaline gives her a look.

“Other kids talk about him, you know.” Cora says, giving us all a shock that she had found out who was really coming without us telling her. “His name is Henry, isn’t it?

My mother looks at my father and my father coughs.

“Yes, his name is Henry.” My father answers.

“Why do you treat him like a secret?” Cora asks.

“The world is full of people that at eleven, you shouldn’t have to meet.” My mother explains.

Cora is silent, knowing not to push my mother for more information that she wanted to give.

 

We all knew never to push my mother for information, because from a young age we knew that she knew more than we ever wanted to know.

I know my mother must have known where I was really going when I left three years ago. But I also know that my mother would never have stopped me from making my own decisions, even if she could already see my mistakes.

***

“Your poker face is awful Madelyn.” Henry says to me.

“I have never played poker.” I tell him, watching the shore line come closer and closer. I know I have about thirty minutes to prepare myself for what is to come.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Henry tells me, and I do. “So what are you hiding? You are not afraid of much, and I don’t believe for a second that the Seer actually scares you. So tell me, what are you hiding? Another ex-boyfriend?”

“A good player never reveals their cards.” I tell Henry, I cast a look over at him, “It’s bad form.”

Henry raises his eyebrows. “So is that hand good or bad?”

“Oh,” I smirk, “Just you wait, it’s marvelous.”

“The Seer ordered us in her last letter to visit immediately, can I count on you to be the reason of that?” Henry asks me.

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