The Strays ⎈John B Routledge⎈

Tiny Cabin

Prologue: Tiny Cabin

Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth. Home to golfers, fishers, and small business owners. Accustomed to tourists and tropical storms. Currently 86℉ with a mild humidity of 64%. At least, that's what the forecast said an hour ago. It seemed hotter now.

Dressed in a dark yellow cropped tank top and jean shorts, a blonde laid sprawled out on a pad of styrofoam. Tiny pieces of the material could be seen around the room from where they'd escaped a dirt-stained white sheet. A compound notebook was partially open next to the faux bed, discarded moments ago like the mechanical pencil thrown on top of it.

Across the small space, a futon mattress was pressed against the adjacent corner. It was the least comfortable of the three cots, but John B liked it. He'd always liked his beds firmer than the Maybank twins. The boy was there, his back pressed against the mattress and his feet kicked up on a window seal. Eyes closed, hands propped behind his head, the summertime playlist CJ made flowed into his ears. Every once in a while, his foot tapped to the beat, a content smile playing on his lips.

The two had been in what JJ deemed the 'tiny cabin' for an hour. The first thirty minutes were filled with John B pretending to listen to his music while he secretly listened to CJ play her guitar. The girl was completely absorbed in her attempt to build a new melody, completely missing the fact that her best friend couldn't keep his eyes off of her. 

Every once in a while, CJ's attention would flash up to him and his heart would skip a beat. He'd unnecessarily pull out an earbud and she would ask questions about how it sounded. She would always speak quickly, her utter passion for music twinkling in her eyes. John B paid rapt attention to every word and would often take the beat-up old guitar to strum out possible chords.

For the next half hour, John B actually listened to his music. CJ had since put the guitar in its spot next to the doorway and plopped down in bed. Compound notebook against her knees, she fixed up the melody and started writing out lyrics. She finished the chorus before the eye strain won out and she threw the book aside, favoring the stars glued to the ceiling.

She remembered when they put the stars up there. It was one of the first additions. JJ had discovered their 6th-grade art teacher kept stars in the cabinets. Bags of them. Naturally, he'd snagged three of them and brought them out to decorate the abode. The stars ran all along the ceiling and only stopped when they reached the top of the windows. 

Being mildly afraid of the dark, CJ appreciated to light they gave off at night. They all did. They especially appreciated how breathtaking it made their secondary home. With the curtains open, the night sky peeking through the trees, it was almost like you were surrounded by stars. Since JJ and CJ usually stayed there alone, it was comforting.

Lining the walls were random things. The placement of the beds often changed, but the three always had their respective corners. Those corners had posters and calendars and nick-nacks stapled or nailed into the wood. JJ's corner had a shelf built in above the window which showcased their empty bottles of liquor.

Two plants grew inside the treehouse. Both resided in windows; Aloe in CJ's and lavender in the unclaimed one next to the door. Good for wounds and soothing for the mind. They'd only been there two years; the female Maybank having permanently confiscated them from the middle school's greenhouse. 

To anyone who ever came across the old treehouse (and no one did,) it would seem like a hovel. Most wouldn't realize it was everything to three islanders. Found their 5th-grade year, CJ hoarded it to herself for a few days before showing it to her brother. The place became their heaven-sent; their home when their actual residence had become nothing more than a broken dream. Whenever one of them didn't want to be there, they would come out to the tiny cabin. Their father never noticed, or more accurately, just didn't care. The cabin was their place, their little secret. That's why it meant so much to all of them when CJ showed it to John B.