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Against the Current
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Against the Current
Ottilie Weber
All rights reserved. No part of Against the Current may be reproduced or transmitted in any form in or by any means such as photocopying, recording, informational storage, electronic or mechanical, and lastly as a retrieval system, without written consent of Ottilie Weber.
This story is a fiction work. Situations, characters, along with names of characters are all part of the writer’s mind. If there are any situations, then it is completely unintentional.
Copyright September 17, 2021
Cover photo © Magensphotos on shutterstocks.com
For my DMS family especially years 2019-2021.
A special thanks for Catina, Jesse, Dawn, and Courtney.
Prologue
The bright, warm sun hadn’t been seen in days and there still didn’t seem any sign of it coming back, as thick grey clouds stretched as far as the eye could see. Without the sun, I could feel my soul drifting away, limiting me. The ground was murky, thick mud caking the surface, dulling the once green grass. Behind me, I was sure there was a solid trail left in my wake. The clouds were ominous as a steady breeze swept over the water and onto the beach. A grey haze hung around me.
I stood alone on the edge of the cliff. The fog drifted around the ends of my dress. The mist almost seemed to be pulling me closer to the shore, trying to hold me back. The water repeatedly smacked against the sharp, jagged edges of the rocks below me. Slaps and crashes echoed in my ears. The water splattered around the rough rocks. Yet, despite the storm brewing below me, my gaze stayed steadily focused on the horizon. I wore a white, linen dress with a thin white shawl draped at my elbows. White stood for freshness, cleanliness, and most importantly, new beginnings. I needed this new beginning to counteract what had happened. To save our way of life, we needed a new beginning. My light blond hair danced in the wind as I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, feeling the life flow through me.
The metal lantern dangled by my side held a candle that dully licked the air behind the glass. Below the waves gradually crashed against the murky, sandy shore. Doubt swirled inside of me as I began to wonder if I was making the right decision or was acting out from mourning. A gust of wind came towards the land. My eyes watched the gust of wind, and I saw a young woman, nearly translucent, but still watching me with careful eyes in the distance. A weak smile formed on my lips as I bowed my head to her. Taking in another deep breath, I spread my arms wide, and the fabric fluttered around. I tilted my head back and leaned forward.
1
Blair
Cardboard boxes sat nestled inside one another in the corner of my room. A couple of layers of tape were poking up at the seams. The once black marker that had my name spread across the side was now faded and almost looked like connect-the-dots letters against the ridges of the cardboard. They claimed this would be the last move for a while. If I had a dollar every time, I had heard that.
I plopped down on the bed as my eyes went around the grey room. It wasn’t the worst color a room had been when we moved in. Light grey was neutral of a color, the color of time to move time to repaint the walls. The top of my worst room list was that pink room that had a green carpet. I kept telling mom I felt like I was living in a watermelon. She told me to stop being dramatic. That was until I taped little pieces of black paper on all the walls. When my mom came into my room later that day then she saw the watermelon. She took me that day to pick out a color to paint the room. I got to enjoy the color about a month before we were getting our orders to move again. It was a steel-blue color.
My mattress sagged slightly under me, and the worn material of the comforter was under my palms. It was an olive shade, so it wasn’t terrible against the grey. It was also the new comforter I got after I had moved from the steel-blue walls, I didn’t want to remember it. The bedding would kind of match until the next move. I was a junior in high school, and this was my tenth school. My eyes scanned the room. There were faded squares on the walls. I wonder what it was like to live somewhere long enough to leave memories on a wall.
“Blair! Can you come down and help with dinner?” my mom’s voice carried up the stairs.
Glancing around the room I sighed. It was what it was at this point. Pushing myself off the bed I dragged my feet out of my new room. Next to my room was the bathroom then across from my door was the room my sisters were going to share. Their boxes were outside the door as I squeezed by. Their joyful screams traveled up the narrow hallway. Maybe I didn’t want to go that way. Hopping down the stairs I was greeted by a wall of totes and cardboard. My sister, Winnie, was sitting in the middle of the kitchen in her diaper and a shirt. Her caramel hair was in corkscrew curls, perched on top of her head with a tilted bow. Winnie’s round, blue eyes found me, and a wet smile spread across her face.
“Bee!” Winnie squealed and she spread her arms out wide.
Thuds came from the side room. Persephone came into the room and was barefoot in a short sleeve, maxi dress. Her brown hair was tied back in a waist-length braid. There was a chocolate smile mustache on her face. The edge of my baggy jeans swung by my feet as I ruffled the top of Winnie’s head. Crossing my arms my hands slide by my bare arms. My mom had her brown hair in a messy bun on the top of her head. She was in jeans and a short sleeve top, but unlike me, she was wearing skinny jeans. There were a few pots and pans on the white counters. The entire kitchen was white, with us it wasn’t going to last. I could already see brown, red, and so many other color fingerprints painting every surface.
“Bumble Bee can you help cook dinner as I finish up in here. Winnie is finally done with her tantrum, so I can unpack.”
Persephone raced out of the room, and I heard the back-door slam. I shook my head.
I smirked. “Not our Winifred.”
My mom glanced over her shoulder with one eyebrow high.
“You can’t even say that with a straight face.”
“Still not as bad as Persephone.” I retorted.
My mom shook her head causing the bent strands to wobble on the top of her head.
“Your dad still holds it over my head, naming her after Hades’ bride.”
“I don’t blame him. Way to pick a fitting name by the way.”
My mom sighed and shook her head again. I couldn’t see her face, but I would’ve bet that she rolled her eyes.
“I was working on all those Ancient Grecian stories at that time.”
My mother, the romance novelist. When she was pregnant with me it was during her first couple of contemporary stories. Persephone was during this weird ancient period she was going through. Thank God that was a short phase. I however didn’t mind hearing about all those ancient God and Goddess stories when I was younger. Then the last couple of years has been her Victorian and Regency timeframe.
I went past my mom and grabbed a frozen pizza then breadsticks out of the freezer then plopped them on the counter. Dad swung by the food store when we got here to get us going for a couple of days. Walking into the other room I opened a teal tote and moved some cookware covered in bubble wrap until I found the cooking sheets. Carrying them into the kitchen I preheated the oven.
“This house doesn’t seem so bad right?”
I glimpsed over at my mom as she was placing glasses into a cabinet.
“We’ve been here four hours.” I muttered.
“Well at this point in that house in Maryland we found that raccoon in the house.”
I bent over laughing hard.
“Oh, my God your screams were so loud!”
“I’m sorry when one opens the bathroom, one does not expect to find a furry friend especially when one does not own a pet.”
I ripped open the pizza box and placed the pi
zza on the pan as I continued to laugh.
“I was upstairs thinking about that watermelon room.”
She smiled. “That was funny. This house is in a nicer neighborhood. I have a room for my writing, and you don’t have to share a room with either of your sisters. The school is a decent distance so that you can ride your bike.”
I shook my head as I put the pizza in the oven.
“That bike has a lot of miles on it. I love that thing.”
“If you need a new one, we can get you a new bike.”
I shrugged. “Nope, I’m good.”
My mom turned around and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“I’m an awesome chef.”
My mom threw her head back and chuckled.
“You are so talented; you should have your own television show.”
She came over and hugged me. My mom kissed the top of my head.
“Where is Dad anyway?”
“Probably cursing me right now.” She said and went back to unpacking.
“Is he putting your bed together?”
My mom nodded. She was pulling some of her decorative mugs out and placing them next to our tall glasses.
“You’re going to be lucky if you have a bed tonight. He swore last time that he was going to throw that thing in the backyard and burn it then dance on the ashes.”
“I know, but he loves me.”
I rolled my eyes and threw the breadsticks into the oven as well. Almost as if on cue, I heard a loud curse from the other room. Winnie squealed and banged on one of the pots on the floor.
“I’m telling you,” I started, “her first word is going to be a curse word.”
Her blue eyes cut to me.
“Don’t you jinx me.”
I laughed.
“Only with all my love.”
“Go check on your dad and make sure he’s not making firewood, please. They don’t make beds like that anymore.”
“Okay, listen for the timer.”
Walking past Winnie and the stairs I turned into my parent’s first-floor bedroom. There were a couple of dressers spread out with some boxes on top. My dad was in jeans and a grey shirt. The word ‘Army’ was in black, block letters across his chest. As if the movers didn’t already know why they were helping us. His brown hair was a little lighter these days as it had white sprinkled in.
“Hey, Dad.”
My dad was crouched down near one of the legs of the bed.
“This thing might be real-wood, but it wasn’t meant to be messed with this much.”
I knew how that bed felt. One too many moves for my taste too. I crossed my arms over my chest as I stared at him.
“Mom wanted me to check-in and make sure we weren’t making firewood.”
Another curse escaped his lips and he sat down.
“Is dinner almost ready?”
He was avoiding the big wooden elephant in front of him.
I smiled. “Pizza is in the oven.”
He glanced over at me with a wide grin on his face. “That’s my girl.”
I laughed. “Okay, I’ll tell mom the bed survived another move.”
My dad pointed at me with the screwdriver. “Its last move.”
This time it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve heard that before.”
“This time I mean it. They’d have to make me a millionaire to move.”
“Huh.”
“I mean it, Bumble Bee. This old body says retirement isn’t far.”
“If you retired, Mom would kill you.”
He chuckled.
“Probably, but that still means the last move. Your mom won’t be moving if I’m not asking her to.”
I laughed. The loud beeps from the kitchen echoed.
“Dinner is ready.”
“I’ll be right in.”
I nodded and went into the kitchen. Using a couple of dish towels, I took the pizza and breadsticks out of the oven. I could see wisps of steam drifting up from the molten cheese. My mom was beside me taking robin’s egg blue plates out of a box. My dad came into the room with Persephone thrown over his shoulder and her high pitch giggles filled the room. Winnie was still on the floor and began to clap her chubby hands. Dad placed Persephone down on her feet and he picked up Winnie. He kissed her on one of her round cheeks. My dad put her in her highchair. I brought my plate to the table and sat on one side of Winnie. My parents got the ends of the table and Persephone sat across from me. Mom had cut a couple of pieces of pizza into tiny bits then scraped them onto Winnie’s tray. Persephone went straight for the breadsticks.
“Another successful move.” My dad grinned.
A half-smile formed on my face. My mom was beaming. My sisters were smiling, but I was not as sure as they were.
2
Blair
My mom was already in the office when I strolled into my new school. I rode my bike to school so that she didn’t have to pick me up afterward. My bike was chained up to some slightly rusted rack off to the side building but before the parking lot. My helmet was in one hand as my bookbag was on my back. My hair was in a braid as I walked in. However, with each step my fingers unworked it and my fingers brushed the strands loose around my back. Persephone was sitting in a chair with her legs not touching the ground. Winnie was sitting on the counter with my mom’s keys as my mom was signing papers. My mom said she had done a lot of the registration ahead of time, but there were a few things she had to do in person.
“Hi Blair, you made it.”
My mom smiled at me and the woman behind the desk turned her attention to me. My mom’s hair was down and loose. She was wearing a spaghetti strap maxi dress as she was out in public. North Carolina was also warmer than Pennsylvania.
“You must be Blair.”
I nodded my head, “Hi.”
I turned to my mom.
“How was the ride?” My mom was looking down as she was writing something down.
“Pretty easy.”
“See, I told you, this move was a good one.”
Winnie squealed. I made a face at her and she clapped. My mom’s keys clattered as the metal banged against each other and my mom’s random keychains. Another woman near my height came into the office. Her hair was jet black and had the tightest corkscrew curls I’d ever seen. Her skin was a cameral coffee color, and her eyes were sage green.
“Hi, I’m Mrs. H. and I’m the guidance counselor. I have her schedule right here.”
She placed two pieces of paper on the desk, the top one was a map of the school.
“Are you ready for your first day?” Mrs. H. was grinning.
“I’ve had enough new days, so the novelty has worn off.”
My mom jabbed me with her elbow. I sighed.
“Sure.” I muttered.
“I’ll see you after school Bumble Bee.”
My mom gave me a quick hug as she balanced Winnie in her arms, and I followed Mrs. H. out of the office. Her heels clanked in the empty halls. I didn’t understand how she was walking around in stilettos. My feet would be killing me in an hour if I was lucky if I wore those. I wasn’t sure how many kids were in these halls, but in some of my other schools, it would be a hazard for her to be in heels.
“Homeroom has already started so it’ll be easier for me to direct you. It’s pretty easy once you get the hang of the layout. The halls are broken up by subjects, so it’ll be pretty easy. It even looks like your first class is in your homeroom. Nothing like starting with math in the morning. Do you like math?”
“It’s okay.”
Honestly, I had to teach myself a lot of math with all the moving around. I’d move and whatever I’d already learned was what some classes were starting and what I missed they already taught. Thanks to my dad and I staying up some nights watching videos online I managed to almost be caught up if not caught up enough to stay afloat. There were a lot of choice words as my dad and I studie
d together, coming from both of us. What mom didn’t know didn’t hurt her.
“Well, your math teacher has been here like ten years, he’s great.”
As we marched down the halls my eyes just scanned every inch of the area. It seemed the same as anywhere else that I’d been. The walls were that ivory color with random spots that were probably the school’s colors. Posters of upcoming school events were scattered in addition to artwork done by students. We reached a door and Mrs. H. knocked. The man in the room had short blond hair and he was wearing a collared shirt with a tie that had math symbols on it and khakis. He waved us in.
“Hi, Mr. Shields I have your new student, Blair Mathews.”
Mr. Shields grinned. I stood in front of the class with my helmet dangling in one hand while the other was sliding into one of my jeans pockets.
“Hi Blair, welcome to the fourth quarter. Is there anything you’d like to share about yourself?”
I shook my head. “Nothing to tell. My name is Blair, and my dad is in the military so we move around a lot. Where am I sitting?”
Mr. Shields chuckled. “Straight to the point. You can take that seat in the third row.”
I nodded and went along the side of the room with a window and sat down. Mr. Shields went back to writing something on the board. Trigonometry. We were starting that in my old school before I moved. I could live without Trigonometry. I kicked my bag more under the desk and leaned back. Glancing around I saw a couple of people reading, a few students were scribbling down on paper, probably some homework. My eyes went out to the window. A couple of seagulls flew by. I smiled. That was right, we weren’t far from the beach. The only saving grace of this move.
The bell went off and almost all the kids in the room got up. The door became congested, and people were swarming in the halls. Yup, some things never changed. A couple of girls filed into the room and sat on the other side of the room. Slowly the room filled up. Then one guy with shaggy, brown hair waltzed in just as the bell went off. He wore a lopsided grin and waved to Mr. Shields who shook his head with a smile on his face. The guy took the seat next to mine. He beamed at me and waved. I raised an eyebrow.