Deadwood

When I woke up, I found I was really excited for my birthday, like every year. My eyes flew open immediately, and I threw my covers off, nearly prancing out of my room. I was eighteen now; I felt like I could take on the world, and any past lives that got in the way.

The smell of blueberry pancakes drifted down the hallway from the kitchen, and I had to smile to myself. I had totally called it, but I wasn’t going to gloat. I knew I’d be devouring the pancakes soon enough. I whirled down into my chair at the kitchen table, one hand on a fork in anticipation. “Happy birthday!” Mom said happily when she noticed me.

A plate piled high with the delicious breakfast food was set down in the middle of the table, and Mom joined me. She pushed a colorfully wrapped, rectangular shaped object towards me. “I know it’s not much.” She started to say sheepishly. “But with the moving expenses and everything…”

With a wave of my hand, she quickly fell silent. I tore the paper off of the item, and gasped with surprise and a feeling of déjà vu. It was a beautiful, old-fashioned leather bound journal. Of course I was immediately reminded of Alice Quinn’s. But mine had my name embossed on the top of the cover in a beautiful gold script. Silently I made a promise to write in it every other day or so. Who knew? It might help someone solve a mystery some day.

I got up and went over to Mom’s side of the table so I could give her a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s beautiful, Mom! Thanks!” I said with sincerity.

A relieved smile crossed her face. We dug into the pancakes, and soon there were only a few crumbs left. She pretty much pushed me out of the kitchen when I tried to help with dishes. “It’s your birthday,” She said sternly, before returning to the sink.

Since there wasn’t anything else to do, I wandered back to my room. After putting my new journal in the night stand on top of Alice Quinn’s, I took a shower and got ready for the day. I put on a sturdy pair of jeans and a nice lacy top. I figured I might as well look nice while I was trying to stay alive. I had just pulled on my boots when the doorbell sounded. “I’ll get it!” I called to Mom as I made my way to the front door.

Oliver was standing there, looking considerably well rested. He smiled at me. “Would you come outside for a moment?”

Figuring I would be okay because it was broad daylight and Mom was right in the house, I closed the door behind me and stepped out onto the porch. “Happy birthday,” He said rather shyly as he stepped closer and gave me a hug.

I received it warmly, still basking in my birthday excitement. “Look, I know I asked if we could hang out today, but my dad wants me to help with some stuff at the house,” Oliver said apologetically. “So I was wondering if you’d like to meet me later tonight? Maybe at our clearing?”

“Yeah, that’d be great!” I replied enthusiastically, though my mind was racing.

He reached a hand into one of his jean pockets and pulled out a little bag. He smiled down at it, and then opened his mouth to say something. But his phone rang, and he immediately answered. From the sounds of it, his dad was calling and wanted him home. Oliver turned slightly pink as he hung up. “I wasn’t really supposed to leave,” He said sheepishly, before looking back down at the bag.

“Here, I suppose you should hang onto this for now so I don’t lose it. But you can’t open it until tonight at the clearing!” He demanded with a small smile. “I want to see your reaction.”

The bag felt light in my hands when he reluctantly handed it over. “Oh, alright, I promise,” I said in exasperation at his stern look.

“Great, I’ll see you later!” He replied, seeming much more energized.

So energized, in fact, that he planted a kiss on my cheek before turning and jogging away towards the woods. I watched him go with one hand on my cheek before carefully putting the bag into one of my jean pockets. Better to keep it on me so I wouldn’t forget it.

It was definitely an understatement to say that I was having mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was probably a killer in a past life. But on the other, he was smart and charming and funny and handsome…I found myself running off track. All of it was true, though, much as I had tried not to admit it to myself. I was very much attracted to Oliver, and that could be very dangerous for me.

The day went by slowly. I moved restlessly around my room, re-reading the few journal entries in Alice’s journal and writing in my own. At about seven o’clock I received a text from Oliver, asking if I’d like to meet a ten; apparently his dad was being stubborn today. I replied with agreement immediately, but I wondered if perhaps I should just call it off. I couldn’t be out in the woods with him alone, at night, especially on my birthday.

At about nine forty-five I let Mom know that I was going to go hang out with Oliver, but I obviously didn’t mention where. She just told me to be careful and have fun. It was almost funny to me.

It was really dark outside, and I just stood for a moment, staring at the woods. Even after my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I was still on edge. I stepped into the waiting branches of the trees and began the hike to the clearing.

Part way there, I hesitated. What was I thinking? I couldn’t meet Oliver in the clearing; that was suicide. Besides, I knew I had to get to Quinn Manor tonight. Going to the clearing would also be wasting valuable time. So I turned, and with my good sense of direction, started heading to the manor house. If all went well, Oliver would forgive me tomorrow.