~ Staff Of Fire ~

by

Jennifer Brassel

The wind whistled through the leaves. Paige and Tegan lay on their backs, both gazing upward at the patchy ceiling of the tree house. Daylight flickered with the fluttering of the leaves, dappling the girls with warm late-afternoon sunshine.

They knew they were getting too old for the tree house now, but it was still a place where they could escape and hide--especially from Paige’s obnoxious little brother, Mo, who wasn’t yet big enough to climb trees.

All was silent, except for the wind.

Drifting off into a world of wishes, Paige quietly pondered the surprise her father would bring home for her birthday. She desperately hoped her dad had paid attention to all the hints she’d dropped. She knew a computer was probably out of the question, but a CD player? Surely that wasn’t asking too much.

Tegan’s thoughts were elsewhere as she tried to remember the silly dream she’d dreamt last night. She had woken in a cold sweat and had trouble going back to sleep. The dream had sat at the edge of her memory all day and it bugged her like crazy that she couldn’t quite catch hold of it.

A shaft of sunlight suddenly flashed across her vision, casting a strange greenish glow into her eyes.

“That’s it!” Tegan squealed as she remembered. Her blond curls bobbed as she sprang upright. “I knew it was you!” She swiveled around on her backside ‘til she faced her best friend, a mischievous gleam lighting her eyes.

Paige groaned inwardly. Whenever Tegan got that look on her face, Paige knew it meant trouble. “What did I do now?” she asked, her voice wary.

“You didn’t do anything, I remembered my dream. It was so-o-o frightening!” Tegan punctuated her words by leaning forward, her blue eyes wide and earnest. “You were in it--it was dark and you were walking toward a big building with this boy--”

“A boy?--not likely.” Paige poked her friend in the arm. “Boys are creeps,” she snorted.

Tegan’s eyebrows shot up. “What happened to Jeremy Glover?” Last week Paige had been so in love, it was almost sickening.

Paige poked her again. Harder. “Like I said, boys are creeps. The boy you saw in your dream, who was he, anyway?”

Although Paige didn’t sound too curious, Tegan knew that deep inside she itched to know. She gave a dramatic shrug. “Dunno--you were walking away. Could only see your back.”

“Then how’d you know it was me?”

Again Tegan shrugged. “Just do. Now stop butting in, I’ve lost my train of thought.” With a studious expression, she laid back and watched the light flickering through a hole in the ceiling and tried to recapture the image. She also knew that if she drew the story out it would annoy the heck out of Paige.

She was rewarded for that thought with a sharp dig from Paige’s elbow. “C’mon, spill it!”

“Okay, okay. You, and this boy, whoever he was, were walking toward a big building. Dunno the place exactly, but it seemed familiar.” She cocked her head from one side to the other, then waved her hand in dismissal. “I guess the place isn’t important.”

She closed her eyes and frowned fiercely as if straining to remember. “It was nearly dark--and this thing, it sort of looked like a man but it didn’t, you know?”

Paige shook her head, thinking Tegan had truly lost it this time. “You’re not making much sense, Teegs.”

“Well, I think it was a man--or a shadow of a man--” she lowered her voice ‘til it was a mere whisper, “--all misty and hunched and fat. He was following you.”

Now the story was getting interesting. “And...?” Paige motioned for her to continue.

“I don’t remember much else--I couldn’t see very well.”

“Surely you remember more than that.”

“Well... there was one odd thing about the shadow-man.”

Paige was beginning to get frustrated. “What?”

“He had a horn.”

“A horn--like a trumpet?”

“Not that kind of horn, silly.” Tegan swatted the air. “No. It was on his head--like the devil but he had only one. Like a unicorn--maybe it was a unicorn?”

Crossing her arms, Paige glared with disbelief. “A unicorn? You are nuts--completely bonkers. Unicorns are horses--not fat men.” She started to giggle. This was obviously one of Tegan’s more elaborate jokes--the punch line was coming next, for sure and for certain. She smiled to herself as she decided to play along.

“Then what happened?”

“It chased after you, and you ran, but it caught up. Then, suddenly, it grabbed at you and I saw this flash--and a weird green light with bright sparkles in the air.”

Paige sprang upright as the gooseflesh danced along her arms. Maybe Teegs wasn’t joking. “And then what?”

“I woke up.”

“You woke up? B-but you can’t have just woken up. What was the flash? Who was the boy? And the man-thing--you must remember more than that!”

“Nope--that’s it.” Tegan folded her arms across her chest, signaling the end of the interrogation.

Irritated, Paige stood and gazed out the window in time to see her father’s silver Lexus pull into the driveway. All thoughts of dreams, unexplained flashes of light and fat men with horns were immediately forgotten.

“Dad’s home--he’ll have my birthday present!” She thrust her feet into her shoes and began lacing them.

The back screen door squeaked open an instant later. Paige’s mother stood in the doorway, scanning the yard as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Paige, honey? Are you out here? Your dad’s home--time for cake.” Mrs. Vaughan didn’t wait for an answer, letting the door swing closed with another painful squeak.

Neither Paige nor Tegan needed to be told twice. They’d smelled that cake baking earlier in the afternoon. It was Paige’s favorite. Passionfruit sponge. The whole neighborhood knew that aroma. Mrs. Vaughan made the ultimate passionfruit sponge. She drizzled the passionfruit pulp all over the whipped cream--but best of all, she crushed heaps of chocolate flakes on top.

Tegan made it to the ladder first, but paid the penalty by having her fingers squished under Paige’s sneaker-shod foot. “Yeeoowww! You did that on purpose,” Tegan complained as she plopped on the ground at the base of the tree, shaking her fingers and blowing on them to lessen the sting.

“Did not,” Paige replied, a tinge of petulance in her voice. “But you should’ve let me go first; it is my fifteenth birthday, after all.”

Tegan began to screw her face, then, after a second, smiled to herself instead--her own birthday was only another week away. She was content to wait her turn.

Meredith Vaughan was just spooning the fresh passionfruit pulp over the cream when the girls careened through the kitchen on their way to see Paige’s surprise.

In the lounge room, Morgan, Paige’s three-year-old brother, had already grabbed one of her gifts and was busily trying to untie the bright red ribbon.

“Hey! That’s mine, you little twerp!” Paige screeched as she tugged the parcel out of his hands and held it out of his reach.

His lower lip trembled and his eyes welled. “Aw, Paithe, I’ne juz’ twyin’ to help.”

He looked so forlorn, Paige immediately felt guilty that she’d yelled at him. She bent down to wrap an arm around his small shoulder. “Don’t cry, Mo. I tell you what, how about we do it together? Okay?”

Morgan’s big, brown eyes lit up in an instant. “The other one, too?”

“What other one?” She gave her father a quizzical look as he came into the room.

“Happy Birthday, sweetie.“ Oscar Vaughan lifted his daughter in a big hug and swung her around several times before setting her back down.

“Here,” he said, handing her the mysterious parcel. “This sat waiting on the doorstep when I arrived--postmark says Wales,” he added, glancing down at the strange postage stamps. “Must be from Great Aunt Ella.”

“Ditzy Aunt Ella, you mean,” Paige returned with a grin and set the box aside. “I’ll unwrap it later--it’s probably another useless gift I can’t open. Do you remember the thing she sent for my tenth birthday? I never did work out what it is.”

Tegan tilted her head. “Is that the carved box you keep under your dresser?”

“Yeah. Looks pretty, but what it’s for, I’ll never know,” Paige dismissed, before returning her attention to the big gift with the curly red ribbon.

“Me help, Paithe!” Morgan reminded, squeezing between Paige and her father.

“Yes, you help.”

They squatted on the floor together while her parents and Tegan looked on. Once the ribbon had been removed, Paige and Morgan began to rip the shiny blue paper from the box. As soon as Paige recognized the carton underneath, she shrieked with delight!

“Wow! How did you know I wanted a CD player?” she asked, though her focus hadn’t left the box before her.

Meredith laughed. “I guess we realized after the twentieth time you said, ‘I really, really, really want a CD player for my room’.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Hey, listen to this,” Paige said, reading out the specs from the side panel, “it says here that you can record cassettes as well.”

“Cool,” Tegan marveled. “I can get copies of all your CDs now.”

Paige pulled a face. “I’ve only got two.”

“Tons more than I’ve got.”

Oscar cleared his throat. “What is that I smell? Passionfruit sponge cake, perhaps?”

Paige rolled her eyes at her father. “Whadda’ ya’ reckon, Dad?--not half freakin’ ob-vi-ous.”

“Is that how you speak, young lady?” Meredith commented with a stern frown as she placed the candle-topped cake on the table.

Paige and Tegan exchanged a knowing glance. Sometimes it was the pits having an English teacher for a mother.

“Thanks heaps for the CD player--I promise not to play it too loud,” Paige said as she launched herself into her father’s arms.

Although he didn’t believe that last statement for a minute, Oscar hugged his daughter tight. At fifteen, she wouldn’t be able to help herself.

He studied her face, amazed at how closely she resembled her maternal grandmother, especially now she was almost a woman. Except for her black curly hair, Paige was the image of Maere--she even had those curious eyes, each a slightly different shade of green. Not many people noticed it at first, but it became especially noticeable when she was excited... or angry; the darker of the two turned a deeper shade of emerald.

They’d just finished cutting the cake when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Paige volunteered, licking chocolate and cream from her thumb as she went to answer.

The postman greeted her with a sheepish grin when she opened the door.

“Paige Vaughan?” he asked, reading the name on the letter he held.

She nodded.

“This must have fallen out of the package I delivered earlier.” He handed her the envelope. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s okay. Thanks.”

Just as she went to close the door, a nasty, fishy smell wafted by her. With a frown, she stared at the postman’s retreating back, wondering if he was the cause.

As the smell began to intensify, she stepped back inside and slammed the door hoping to shut it out. A second later, it had gone completely.

Heading back into the living room, she examined the envelope and a strange chill coursed down her spine. Another one from Wales, on the back was Great Aunt Ella’s address. “That’s funny,” she said to herself, “this is the first time Ella’s sent a letter.” Paige stared at it for a long moment before placing it on the mantle alongside the gift.

I’ll look at it later, she thought.

Right now all she wanted was another slice of cake.