“There’s a phone in the library,” he said and rounded the kitchen counter toward the front door. “Please only use it to call Nora or myself. Our numbers are in the desk.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked. My hands began to shake, and I quickly moved them behind my back. The thought of being alone right now suddenly terrified me.
Charlie’s shoulders sagged. He turned and stared directly in my eyes. “Eve, you have suffered through horrible things no child should ever go through, but that time is over—no one will hurt you ever again. You were a victim once but no longer. Never think of yourself as a victim. If you do, then you are still empowering those who have harmed you. Go forward and choose to live your life, because if you’re always looking in the past, then you’ll never have a future.”
“Will I see you again?” I asked.
“I hope so, but something tells me it won’t be for a very long time. Do take care of yourself, and when you’re ready, call me.”
Without another word, he left, closing the door behind him.
Chapter 28
The first several days at the cabin, I thought of nothing, afraid the smallest memory might overwhelm me. I repeated the most mundane tasks, keeping life as simple as possible: wake up, shower, eat, go for a walk, read, eat, read some more, walk some more, eat again. Every day I told myself that after a good night’s sleep and a decent breakfast, I would leave in the morning. But the next day came and went. Soon the days turned into weeks and weeks into months until time stopped entirely. I didn’t think of my parents, or Boaz and Charlie, or even the vampire with the sorrow-filled eyes. I had become like the large oak tree that grew next to the cabin: predictable, steady, and unaware to life beyond its branches.
Nora was my only visitor. She was an older, large woman with long brown hair that was always pulled back into a thick braid. Freckles sprinkled her ruddy complexion like cinnamon, and her bottom lip continually stuck out from a wad of tobacco. She wasn’t the most eloquent speaker and often cursed for no reason. I had never been around anyone like her before, but I grew fond of her straightforwardness and her plaid shirts and tight jeans.
On the days Nora visited, she brought me all the food I could ever eat plus letters from Charlie. I never read them, though. Instead I placed them in a drawer for another day. And every few months, Nora would come with new clothing, but I often refused as I didn’t want to accept anything I couldn’t pay for. I already felt guilty for using the cabin and food. Somehow I’d pay them back. One day.
When Nora would come, very few words would pass between us. Our dialogue consisted of the weather, what food she’d bring, and other impersonal things. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get to know her, but it was just easier for me to exist as a shadow, unknowing to the present and future, but most importantly to the past. Occasionally, I would catch Nora staring at me, but gratefully, she never asked any questions.
After what I assumed was a short time, but in actuality was many months, I found a crossbow and a several arrows in the small attic of the cabin. This gave me something new to do, so I spent a lot of my time in the forest, practicing at different targets until I became quite good. I could throw an apple into the air and shoot an arrow straight through its heart.
One early spring morning, I returned from target practice, the crossbow in hand and quiver on my back, to find Nora resting against the bumper of her beat-up pickup truck. When I approached, she spit on the ground.
“You’ve been practicing again,” she said.
“Yup.” I walked by her and onto the porch where I placed my bow. “You’re here early. What’s up?”
“I’m old, fat, and tired. That’s what’s up.” Nora spit again. “And I’m tired of wasting my time.”
“Excuse me?” I turned around, startled by her words, and for the first time in a long time, I really looked at her. Nora’s head was sprinkled with gray hair, more so then the thick brown hair I remembered her having, and she seemed thinner. My eyes widened. “Has so much time passed?”
“It ran right over the top of me.”
I took a few steps toward her. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”
“About that. It’s time you put your big girl panties on and get out into the world. No more hiding.”
I smiled. “I know. I’ll leave in the morning.”
Nora laughed, but it turned into a sharp cough. When she finished, she wiped her mouth the back of her hand. “You’ve been saying that bull crap for seven years.”
I gasped. “Seven years?”
“Seven long years for me, but you still don’t look a day over nineteen.”
I looked down. “I never explained—”
“And you don’t have to. I’ve seen stranger things than a girl who doesn’t age.” Nora spit again. “I can’t come up here no more. I’ve got family out west who’s going to take care of me.”