FicWad

Destiny itself is like a wonderful wide tapestry in which every thread is guided by an unspeakably tender hand, placed beside another thread and held and carried by a hundred others.

~Rainer Maria Rilke

I kicked a small chunk of ice as I made my way down the empty highway. The black asphalt made a slapping sound against my cheap sneakers, while above me the blue-gray sky shuffled clouds to the east at a fast pace.

Just beyond the heavy metal barrier to my left, the ground dropped off sharply, so that the tops of the trees were level with the road; to my right the sheer cliff face shot straight up, supporting a few clingy trees and the last of the dead flora. I watched as the next reflective green marker passed me, three miles down and two to go.

The highway had been scraped, but that didn’t protect me from the damp piles that occasionally assaulted my head as they fell from the wiry pine trees, growing only a few yards up the mountain from where I walked. A shake of my head dispelled the latest attack.

I started the daily trek earlier in the winter, around Christmas. My Mom and I had an argument, which I ended by storming out of the house, screaming over my shoulder that I was going back east to live with Gramma. All I had was my winter coat and snow boots, but I made it five miles up the interstate before I got too cold. There was an exit that took me farther up the mountain, and curved around a jutting rock; I followed it for about a quarter mile before I found the abandoned school building.

The only reason I went inside was to warm myself enough to make it back home before it got dark; I even considered spending the night, just to freak out Mom. I planned on using my pocket knife to unscrew the doorknob to get it open, but discovered that it was unlocked. I found out why when I wandered into the back halls, those least affected by weather and neglect.

A small group of local teenagers, all very interesting individuals, had adopted the abandoned building as their locale. I was invited to join them by Soppheira, a pretty girl with blue-black silk for hair.

After she introduced me to most of the others, I was offered alcohol and a place to sit. Before this, I’d never bothered with alcohol, mostly because I had no friends with access, but also because I was still trying to convince my Mom that I was a decent kid. By that time, however, I had given up, accepted the offering, and tried to fit-in. I don’t know if I can really call them friends, but they were the closest thing I had since the move.

Ever since then, I had been making the five mile hike up to the abandoned school to keep up appearances with my mother. As far as she knew, I went to school in town and had a part time job. Fortunately, she didn’t care enough to bother me at either location. In fact, she still hadn’t asked where I was working.

The first of each month I deposited a check mailed from my grandmother into my debit account and used that as my “salary”. So far it was working fine, I had my Mom convinced and never had to ask for money; there wasn’t much around here to spend it on anyway.

Not long ago I’d started saving as much as I could, so I could afford a plane ticket back east by the time I was old enough to leave the house. At 16 I could have managed to get away, but knowing my spiteful mother and her insane dislike of my grandmother, she would have called the police saying I had been kidnapped or run away, just to get them to bring me back. I was waiting for 18, which was in just a couple short months, so that I would be a legal adult, and therefore completely—legally—out of her reach.

Months ago, in the spring, I had tried to convince my Mom to let me spend break with Gramma so I could visit my old friends. She was vehemently against it, probably because she realized I would refuse to come back if she let me go. I didn’t really have friends anymore to visit anyway.

I shivered and lifted my collar higher, shunning the negative thoughts and the wind that had started to pick up. It wasn't long before I saw the dirty, aged, red-brick building peek out from behind the jutting mountainside.

When I got inside, the group was small. Spider and his clinging girlfriend—Dara—were sitting in one corner, dressed in their traditional get up of black canvas pants and long-sleeved shirts, playing tonsil hockey; that is until I walked in and Spider's eyes followed me all the way passed them and into the courtyard.

He had become uncomfortably interested in me ever since Brennen tricked me into revealing that I was a virgin. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t really interested in losing it to a greasy high school dropout. I ignored him as best I could and went to see if Soppheira was anywhere to be found. She spent a lot of time in the courtyard at the center of the building.

Today she was ‘holding court’; a half circle of super rebellious preteens decked out in black leather, fake tattoos, and chain accessories was listening intently as Soppheira recited one of her speeches. She was dressed nicely, in a slick pair of black dress pants and a buttoned white shirt with a gray pinstripe vest over it. I couldn’t believe she wasn’t cold, but she seemed unfettered.

I gave up listening to her talk a long time ago when I realized she was bullshitting for the attention, simply enjoying the rapture and response of her audience. She glanced up and smiled at me, revealing her clip-on fangs, and I waved in response.

Since she was busy, I went to sit beside Carna and Aaron, who were sharing drinks just inside the entrance to the old library; a small room lined with empty, rotting, wooden shelves and aluminum magazine racks. It wasn’t much warmer inside, but it did cut down the wind and protected against any precipitation. They were both in the traditional uniform of the club: black and gothic. Carna even had her face painted up like a strip-tease dancer with too much eyeliner.

She greeted me coolly, maintaining her image as a badass, and passed me her bottle of amber liquor. Her father was a home-brewer who made too much to keep track of all he had. I took a sip and recognized the strong, honey-based mead; it was one of my favorites.

Aaron didn’t bother with pleasantries, but I did get a quick smile.

I spent most of the morning with Carna, sharing her bottle of honey-beer and discussing random topics as they occurred to us. In spite of the good company, it’s rare that I have interesting conversations, so today was a treat; until my Mom called.

My cell phone started vibrating, and at first I ignored it; but then I glanced down to see the caller ID. I knew if I didn’t pick up, I would pay for it later. Immediately irritated, I flipped the phone open and demanded to know what she wanted. As far as she knew, I was working, so it would be understandable for me to be aggravated.

“Aislynn Elizabeth Reed,” Her tone threatened “I don’t appreciate that attitude.” I ignored her remark and waited for her to make her demands. “I need you home in twenty minutes. I expect you there when I arrive.”

“Probably not gonna happen, Mom.” I replied, barely containing my snide tone.

“Just get there.” The line clicked dead.

I felt little regarding my superficial relationship with my mother. I lived in her house, and that was about it; I was paying for my own cell phone, the food that I wanted, and the Internet, so I couldn't figure why she thought I owed her something.

Sighing dramatically, I stood again, pulling out a stick of gum as I left. Since it was an hour’s walk home, I knew she’d beat me there. Even if I was working in town, my shift would be half over, and I would still need time to walk up the hill. It was her fault for demanding the impossible. The return trip felt tedious, but at least I was getting exercise.

I was walking through the front door when I was viciously attacked by a ball of fur. A dog the size of a bear tackled me, and as it stood over me with its tongue hanging out, I heard my mother laugh. Blue eyes stared down at me from a masked brown face. Two huge paws were planted firmly on my chest. It looked like a cross between a Great Dane, or a Mastiff, and a Siberian husky. Mom pulled the thing off me by its collar and patted its head gently while she snapped at me to get up.

I stood as gracefully as I could, glaring at her while I brushed myself off. The thing that had attacked me was sitting next to her, grinning widely and panting—as if it had made some great effort. It got a vicious, narrow-eyed glare, before I turned on my mother.

“What is that and what's it doing here?” I asked, my voice sounding more flustered than I had hoped. I brushed my pants off, scowling when I noticed the tiny dog hairs clinging desperately to my nice slacks.

“This,” She smiled and motioned to the bear-dog “is your new therapeutic pet.” Of course, she received a blank, bored stare as a response; which is usually what happens when she tries new ways to annoy me. She rolled her eyes when I didn't catch on.

“There’s a new program I found at work...”

Her job as a secretary at the local loony bin.

“... A homeless animal helps troubled teens get their life back on track.”

Blah...blah...blah, something about personal responsibility, basic instincts, and compassion.

“The animal doesn't go to the pound and...” She looked pointedly at me, “the teen doesn't go to jail.” She spoke a little longer while I wondered silently if she wasn't a patient, instead of a secretary.

“No” I murmured as I turned to leave. I almost made it out the door before Mom stopped me. She decided that I wasn’t allowed the leave the house again today, regardless of whatever my work schedule might be. So I started up the stairs instead.

“Either you care for the animal, or it will suffer, because I am not going to pick up your slack.” She called up the stairs. I paused to look at her and she tilted her head, though she knew I wouldn’t react; it was near impossible to get a reaction from me. “I know eventually your compassion will win out, and there will be a life lesson in there somewhere.”

Mom was probably laughing on the inside when she told the animal to follow me, like it understood language. Sadly, when I reached my bedroom and collapsed onto the king sized futon on the floor, the thing came in and sat down near my desk watching me with those huge blue eyes. It glanced around a few times, taking in the dark walls covered with magazine clippings and photos of my old life, but it always returned its gaze to me.

“What’re you looking at, mutt?” I demanded tersely, knowing it wouldn’t respond. The stupid thing tilted its head at me and started grinning, its tongue hanging out one side. I glared at it some more before rolling over and closing my eyes.

Ten minutes later I got bored staring at the inside of my eyelids, so I sat up and was about to turn on my computer when I noticed the bear-dog was curled up at the end of the futon. Against my better judgment, I reached over and ran my hand down its spine. The fur was soft, and warm.

When I finally turned on the computer, I had no e-mails or messages, nothing. That’s what happens when you move five hundred miles. I clicked the thing off, forcing the aging PC into an improper shut-down, now frustrated with my once-upon-a-time friends. I was halfway through the door when the bear-dog was suddenly awake and jumped up to follow me downstairs.

I grabbed an apple and a bottle of water before skipping out the back door and slamming it in the bear-dogs face. Mom let it out while I wasn’t looking, and it followed me all the way to the creek, which had flooded with rainwater before freezing over. I sat on the bank and rested my legs on the ice, settling down to eat my “lunch”. I don’t think Mom noticed that I had left the house, or maybe she’d already forgotten her decision from earlier.

It sat down next to me and turned to watch me. When I was finished with everything but the core, I glanced over at It to find it still watching me. I had heard that dogs would eat anything handed to them, but if they got table scraps they would beg all the time.

Still, I wanted to see if It would eat the apple core, so I turned my wrist, offering. It leaned forward and opened its mouth, closing Its teeth around the apple gently, like it didn’t want to hurt me or thought I would pull away at the last second. I let go when its teeth closed and the core was gone a moment later.

“Hm,” I murmured and then stood up again and tousled the thing's head before walking off into the forest. I looked over and It was still following me, its tongue hanging out as it grinned, panting a little from the brisk pace and cold air. It sat down and tilted Its head at me until I turned around and crossed my arms, watching It with narrowed eyes.

Then a question came to mind, I leaned down to look between Its legs while It watched me. I guess It figured out what I was doing, because he laid down and barked indignantly.

“What?” I asked dumbly “I wanted to know if you were a boy or girl!” He just huffed at me. “Fine, be that way” Feeling like a child, I started back towards home, figuring I'd watch a movie or something; I was getting tired of walking.

The garage door was open, so I came in through the back of the kitchen. The downstairs was essentially one room, but included a kitchen with a nook for a dining table, and the carpeted living room. The bottom of the stairs was on the boundary, across from the front door, and rose up to the right, serving as one of the walls for the kitchen.

Mom was sitting in the living room a few yards away watching TV when I came inside. She stopped me from bolting up the stairs and handed me a list of groceries she wanted from the store.

I went to grab the keys to the truck off the counter but she stopped me.

“Are you kidding” I asked in a shocked tone. “It’s over an hour’s walk!”

“Oh well” She replied.

"It February!" My voice rose in volume. "That means winter, freezing temperatures, hypothermia."

"The weather is supposed to be rather pleasant today. I'm sure you'll be find in your coat. Plus, it's a good opportunity to get some exercise."

"If I wanted exercise, I would go to the gym." I muttered under my breath.

"You better leave soon so your home before dark. You need to buy dog food; I just added some groceries to the list.”

“Then I should be able to take your car to get them.” I argued, knowing it was useless. My loving mother shrugged noncommittally.

“I don’t need you wrecking the truck with funds so tight.” She replied in a monotone.

Throwing my hands in the air out of frustration, I stomped towards the front door. There was no way I was going to pay for his food when she's the one who chose to get him in the first place. On my way out, I stole a credit card from her purse in the front hall and headed out the door.

Of course, he followed, and I glared at him for a few minutes before realizing it wasn't his fault. It was my crazy-ass mothers.

She's just trying to help, Whispered that annoying little voice in my head.

“Yeah, right” I grumbled out loud, trying to end the ongoing conversation with myself. He looked over at me as we walked and cocked his head.

It was cold outside, and the wind had picked up, leaving me shivering the whole two and a half miles to the supermarket on Main Street; the actual Main Street, which was a whole highway exit away from my house. I decided, instead, to visit the small gas station about a half mile away; it was more expensive but also more convenient.

My Mom could be so uncivilized sometimes. It never occurred to either of us that I wasn’t supposed to leave the house that day.

At the store, I ignored the piercing look I got from the old guy behind the counter. He hated me the first time I visited the little corner grocery store months ago. He probably had a built-in hatred of all teenagers, because all of us are shoplifters; especially the ones who have dark hair and wear lots of black clothing, even though I was dressed in nice slacks and a pretty blouse. He tried to make uneasy small talk which stopped immediately when the bear-dog walked in through the closing door.

“What’s this?” The man mumbled to himself, reaching for a shotgun hidden behind the counter. I ignored him for a moment and then realized what he intended to do. It sucked that I was stuck taking care of the stupid beast, but that didn’t mean I would allow him to be killed.

“No, wait.” My arm shot up to stop him, though it wouldn't do much good since I was halfway across the store. “That’s my dog, is it alright for him to be in here?” I asked, trying to look very innocent and nice. “He follows me everywhere.” I don't think he was convinced, but he stopped and replaced the gun to where he'd gotten it from.

“'S'long as he behaves himself” The man replied, looking at me with narrowed eyes. He turned away, scratching idly at the scruff on the bottom of his chin. His fingernails were dirty and chipped, and the rest of his hands were calloused and dark with some sort of grime. There were lines around his mouth that suggested he rarely smiled and were covered with the half-grown beard that had collected some sort of crumbly food.

Looking away to avoid the urge to wash my hands, I nodded and called the bear-dog over to the pet food section. He nosed around the other shelves before sniffing his way over to dry dog food. I guess nothing looked good to him because he huffed around and then sneezed before going back to get petted by the clerk. I grabbed a small bag of dry and a few cans, I knew I’d be back for more eventually, but I couldn’t carry a lot on my own.

“What’s his name?” He called from the counter, already getting friendly after the beast provided a successful ice-breaker. The question took me back. Mom hadn’t mentioned him having a name, and I hadn't even thought giving him one.

“Um...” I stuttered stupidly. Then I started going through names I'd heard before now. There were a bunch that were only human names, and more than one dog name that sounded stupid. Finally I gave up and threw a couple syllables together. “Ay-oh-win,”

How would that be spelled, I wondered. The guy seemed to think for a moment and then nodded, patting Ay-oh-win again. I didn’t think I had made it up, it sounded familiar.

A few minutes later I'd found everything on Mom's list and went to pay. The guy was still watching me, but gave me a forced half-friendly smile when I pulled out the credit card.

I didn’t say anything as I passed it across the counter. I mimicked my mom’s signature perfectly, and he didn't bother to notice the name—or ask for mine. Maybe having the card meant I was a legitimate customer.

I left with three full bags, the one with the dog food in one hand by itself because it was so damn heavy, and Mom’s short list of groceries in the other; the weight was nearly equal. I cursed her name a few times and called Ay-oh-win to follow me.

Halfway home, the cloudy sky decided to pick up a harsh wind and start throwing hail chunks the size of my fist. It took me a moment to realize what it was, after something hard bounced off my head and broke at my feet.

I heard Ay-oh-win cry out as one hit him as well. Rather than risk injury, I looked quickly around for somewhere to hide.

To my surprise, there was an abandoned gas station, with trees growing out of the broken front windows, a hundred yards away. I made a hard turn and started running, calling Ay-oh-win to follow me.

Inside, I dropped the bags and spun around to close the cracked glass door before searching him for injuries; he had a couple bumps on his back but was otherwise unharmed. It was then that I noticed he wasn't just brown, but had a completely white tummy that faded into the dark brown on his back; a truly appropriate thought considering the circumstances.

“We’ll hide out here until it stops, ‘kay?” Stupid me, talking to dogs, I was already worse than Mom. I was taken back when he looked up at me; his huge blue eyes seemed almost human, full of thought and awareness; maybe he really did know all that stuff. It looked like he was smiling at me. Then he turned and lay down, gently licking the places he'd been hit with the hail.

The gas station was one of the old ones, that didn’t have the extra things like soda machines and racks of chips and beef jerky. There was only the counter with a dirty stain where the cash register used to be, and a small door, with a bathroom sign nailed to it, off to one side. Behind the counter, there was an upturned stool that was missing one leg, so I sat on the floor instead. I tried to call my Mom to come pick me up, but there was no service—my luck. She probably would have said ‘no’ anyway.

It was nearly an hour before the hail stopped. There were two times that a window was broken by the storm, and when the thunder started I got nervous. I've always been afraid of thunder; an embarrassing childhood phobia that I never got over.

The whole sky darkened, casting shadows across the small room. Then, every few minutes or so, it would become suddenly bright, and huge booming noise cause me to jump out of my skin and then immediately retract.

At one point I found myself curled under the counter, hugging my head to keep the sound at bay. Ay-oh-win padded over to me and laid his head on my lap. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him against me, burying my face in the fur on his neck. He huffed behind my ear and licked my cheek, and somehow it helped.

After it stopped, and the sky lightened once more, I sat still for a little longer, to make sure it wouldn't start again. Then, stiff-legged and smelling like wet dog, I stood and picked up the bags of groceries once more. I moved timidly to the door, cautiously made my way across the street, and then I nearly sprinted home. Faithful Ay-oh-win was running along beside me, slowing a little each time I stumbled. When I reached the driveway, I slowed down to let my breathing become even before going inside the house.

I should have expected Mom to be waiting; she jumped on my case two steps into the door, already demanding answers to things like, where had I been and what had taken so long. I shrugged her off and dropped the bags in the kitchen before going upstairs to change.

Since I didn't figure I'd be going outside for the rest of the day, I put on some old sweats with holes in the knees and a baggy t-shirt. When I opened the door again Ay-oh-win dashed inside. He sniffed around my feet and then huffed, before setting himself in the middle of my futon and going to sleep. When I looked at the clock, it was only eight, so I flipped on the TV next to my computer desk and sat down next to Ay-oh-win, pushing him over when I didn't have enough room.

“You’re gonna get fur all over my bed!” I mumbled angrily, pulling the covers out from under him so I could warm my feet. He cocked his head at me and scooted over, setting his face in my lap and sighing. I rested my hand on his neck and sighed too.

I pulled my new—secret—notebook computer from behind my pillow and did some research on spellings for “Ay-oh-win”. Almost immediately, I found the Lord of the Rings character Aowen, but that was a female. Eventually I found Eoin, which should have been pronounced Ian, but worked for me.

I must have fallen asleep still searching.

When I woke up the next morning I'd rolled over and had my arm draped over Eoin's side. I opened my eyes and he was already watching me, he even scooted up and sniffed through my hair before he licked my face and neck.

Mom came knocking on my door not much later, ranting off a list of chores she wanted done. I ignored her, let her deal with her own laundry, mine was already finished. Eventually, though, I got up and was walking towards the bathroom, looking forward to a hot bath, when Eoin got up to follow me.

“Oh, no,” I growled, “you stay here.” I locked the door behind me, already feeling foolish. A half an hour later, I was out, dry and dressed.

I stopped next to my futon to shake out the sheets and watched, stricken, as the cloud of dog-dander puffed up in front of me. Grabbing my watch and cell off the table next to it, I half-jogged out the door; predictable Eoin on my heels.

“Come on boy, let’s get some exercise,” I called sardonically. Mom looked up from a book she was reading in the living room and smiled. Of course, she would enjoy something like this. The TV was on, providing background noise to her otherwise silent house.

Eoin watched the screen while I pulled on my boots that came halfway up my shin to protect me from the snow. Outside, it was chilly, but not unbearable, and there was no wind, and no clouds that could lead to hail. I exhaled, relieved.

Dashing out the door, Eoin started off towards the trees, pausing for a moment to glance back at me. I started jogging. The residential area of Silverthorne was about a half mile straight through the trees and down the hill. Once out of the forest, Eoin and I started down a sidewalk; he stayed close to my heels.

A few minutes later we arrived at the park gate. The park is a huge expanse of natural landscape, which was fenced off to protect its “beauty and integrity”. Local housewives got together a couple years ago and worked to prevent an ugly apartment building from being constructed in the way of their pretty view; I guess they succeeded since I didn't see one.

The park looked almost barren, a few people walking their dogs were scattered across the green. I looked over at Eoin and smirked, he was watching everything with wide eyes.

“So, d’you wanna chase a stick or something?” I asked. Eoin tilted his head at me and huffed. “Didn’t think so.” I smiled. The day wasn't very productive, we spent the rest of daylight running and playing around the park, enjoying the remnants of grass in the cold late January air. Just before the sun set we made our way home.

“You’re home late” Folding her arms in front of her, she glared at me. I rolled my eyes; I wasn't in the mood for a fight. I shrugged her off when I went through the door and ran upstairs.

Changing clothes, I flopped down on my futon and almost fell asleep. Eoin decided to come over and snuggle up against me, and I finally fell asleep while he was making himself comfortable.

All night I dreamed about a doctor’s office, with plain white walls and stainless steel cabinets. A brunette in pink scrubs brushed my hair and sang to me. Then, I saw my mom through the back window of the truck, smiling genuinely.