Dragonfly: The First Spring (Book One)

Chapter One: Suburbia

 

 

The crimson eyes of the beast peered across the garden into the window of 151 Sweet Briar Avenue, Virginia. The girl’s image appeared on the other side; the one who wore the dragonfly necklace. The beast sent a message the girl would think of as her own, “I will wake up at dawn tomorrow and go for a walk in the woods.”

When the beast felt her receive the message, he faded back into shadows, scattering birds and squirrels farther into hiding with each step.

 

 

Jessica’s vision blurred and her mind emptied of all thoughts. It lasted only a moment, and then, she felt like herself again. She shook her head, thinking she must be coming down with something, and hoping she was not. She was not going to cancel her party tomorrow.

She glanced out the kitchen window, alerted by a group of blue jays screaming in terror. A dozen song birds flew wildly towards the house as though narrowly escaping death. She scanned the field and forest edge but didn’t see any hawks, cats, or foxes. Either she couldn’t see the danger, or it was a false alarm. A human might even cause such a reaction.

Her phone buzzed. She felt a pang of sympathy as she read that the boy her best friend, Eva, had been dating broke up with her. The text had been short and to the point, but she knew the truth. She and Ryan had gone out for almost six months and her friend had loved him. 

But now, Eva could come to her sleepover party. She needed to be there. All of their other friends would be there and they didn’t often have large parties such as this.

She opened the closet filled with cleaning supplies. Her mom wouldn’t be home for another hour to help and she hoped she would have time to finish everything. Her brother had refused repeatedly to vacuum. “It’s your birthday,” he told her. “You do it.” He killed time playing war games on the computer, but she couldn’t force him. He was two years older.

She wished her dad was home. He would have cured Peter’s laziness somehow. Jessica responded to Eva’s text, “OMG! That’s 2 bad! Wanna come over?” She hoped it sounded supportive enough.

Her friend started dating in sixth grade, and Jessica tried not to be jealous. Eva always managed to flirt with all the cutest boys and then within days, they became an item. Her friend was attractive, nice, and good at keeping a conversation interesting. She, on the other hand, had never dated. Boys didn’t look twice at her. Their eyes normally passed right over her and glued themselves onto Eva’s curvy figure and pretty face.

She could live vicariously through her friend most of the time. She could accept that, for now. But one day, very soon, she hoped to meet the right boy.

Eva sent her another message. “Yes, I want to. Can I bike over now?”

“Sure tho I hafta vacuum,” she replied. That meant she would have to hurry. She pulled out the vacuum and worked as fast as she could.

She only had the upstairs to finish when Eva opened the front door and walked in without knocking. Her family had befriended the Mitchell’s the day they moved in years ago and had been close ever since. It had been tough for them as the first African-American family in the neighborhood. “Hey!” Eva called.

“Be right there.” Jessica skipped down the stairs, but her face fell when she saw the tears streaked down Eva’s cheeks.

“Come, let’s sit down on the couch,” her voice had softened. She had to run to pull her flute off the couch before Eva sat down and crushed it. She pulled the instrument apart, piece by piece, and stored it back.

“So . . . how did it happen?”

“I don’t know,” Eva cried. “I thought everything was going fine. Then, he said he needed a break. He didn’t want to be tied down over summer break. It just doesn’t make sense to me. I really liked Ryan.” It had been her longest relationship yet.

“I know.”

“I think it’s over for good. Besides, even if I could get him back, I’ve heard it’s bad to be with a guy you keep breaking up with. This isn’t our first break-up, after all.”

“You’ll find someone better. I know you will. Didn’t you always say he criticized you a lot anyway?”

“Yeah, you’re right . . . ” She paused for a long moment. “We don’t have to talk about him.” She looked around the house. “It looks really neat in here. What happened?”

Jessica laughed. “I’m cleaning. I have to – for the slumber party tomorrow.” Her parents weren’t the neatest people in the world. They both worked demanding jobs that didn’t have set hours.

“Right. I guess Sarah and Jasmine have maids so they would be horrified if it were messy.”

“Exactly.”  

“So do you need me to do anything to help? Please don’t make me clean though. Ugh . . . But I have some board games I could bring.”

“Sure, games would be good. And can you come over early and help us decorate? My mom is buying balloons and some other stuff.”

Eva grinned. “I feel like I’m eight all over again.”

“Hey! Come on, we can still have birthday parties. Why not? Everyone is excited about it. Want to see the Facebook page?”

“I’ve seen it - you’re right. I’m just messing with you.”

They heard the front door swing open. “Hi girls.” Doctor Linda Abbott, her mom, carried in a box of papers to grade. “I have more stuff in the car. Can you go grab it, Jessie?”

“Sure thing.” Jessica jumped up and went out to the car. Eva followed. They carried in pink and purple balloons and a sign that read, “Happy Birthday!” She grabbed her mom’s laptop too, and put it in the office, where her brother still sat at the computer.

“Peter!” She said in a disapproving tone. “You’ve been on there all day.”

“No I haven’t.” He replied in a monotone voice that meant he concentrated more on his game than on speaking. He sounded a bit uncertain when he asked, “I went to school today, didn’t I?”

“Grrr . . .” She stomped her feet out of the room. She had wanted to use the computer to check her e-mail and Facebook, but he’d hogged it all afternoon.

Eva laughed at her when she walked back into the living room, still looking angry. “Boys never grow up, do they?”

They heard a buzzing noise and both pulled out their phones at the same time.

Eva said, “It’s dad. I’d better go.”

“Okay. And don’t worry about Ryan, okay? You'll find someone better - probably next week.”

Eva gave her a hug. “Thanks for letting me come over on such short notice.”

Her friend left and Jessica sighed. Poor Eva.

She climbed the stairs to her room and sat down at her desk. She pulled open the top drawer and took out a black book. Inside, colorful drawings of leaves, flowers, feathers, skulls, and animals filled the first half of the book.

She grabbed a small spiral bound notepad out of her back pocket. It had notes of observations she had made that day. She copied her notes from the little spiral bound book, to the unlined, black book. She wrote the date on the top of the page then drew a picture of the clouds that day. Then she wrote about a mockingbird she had seen steal bread from a trash can outside of her middle-school campus. She included the calls it had made as best as she could transcribe to English. The bird had repeated each call at least three times before moving on to the next phrase.

She swiveled her chair and ran her finger along a bookshelf crammed full of colorful field guides. She pulled one out on bird behavior. After finding what she searched for, she wrote in her book, “Mimus polyglottos,” the Latin name for mockingbird, and “Male, likely calling to attract a mate or warning other birds to stay away from its territory. Note: During mating season, only the male mockingbird sings.”

The front door swung open again. Her father, Richard Abbott, walked in with dinner. The smell of Chinese take-out wafted through the air. “I hope you all are hungry,” he called so enthusiastically, she could hear him even from her bedroom upstairs. She heard Peter groan loudly from the office.

She joined her parents in the kitchen.

“So I sold one today, Linda.” Her dad worked as a real estate agent and each sale was an exciting event to him.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Darling.”

Jessica poured water for the whole family and sat down at the kitchen table. Her stomach growled plus she wanted to hurry up and eat so she could use the computer before Peter finished doing the dishes – not that he ever finished chores quickly.

“Peter,” her mom called.

No answer.

“Peter! Dinner!”

“Just a minute,” he responded. The clock ticked by. Jessica and her parents dished out the food and started eating. Her brother often joined them for dinner late so they learned long ago to start eating without him. Fifteen minutes later, Peter slouched onto his chair.

“Are you ready for your exams, Jessica?” Her dad asked her since her brother received straight A’s without her parents egging him on. She never understood how he did it when he wasted almost all his free time on the computer.

“Well . . . I need to study,” she replied honestly. “That’s what Sunday is for, right? It’s my birthday tomorrow.” She looked across the table at her father’s hazel eyes.

“Yes, that’s fine. Your grades have been good so far this year. I was just trying to make conversation. On a different note . . . I’ve signed us all up for the wilderness survival camp again this summer. It will be just like the one last year . . . a week of outdoor adventures. No computers. No phones. No television.”

“Dad!” Peter pushed back his chair. “Why do we have to do this every year? I told you. I don’t want to go!”

“Peter, these are important skills to know!”

“For who?”

“For backpackers, campers, hikers, bikers, and travelers, for instance. And it’s important for us too. Even if we never have to use these skills in a life or death situation, it still builds character and confidence.”

Their mom added, “Besides, it’s the one time each year that we really get to spend time with each other. As a family.”

“It’s fun,” Jessica pleaded. “We can make it fun.” She hated it that her brother rebelled so hard against their family vacations each year. But their trips were particularly unusual . . . it wasn’t just camping. They attended a series of courses on how to live in the wilderness. They learned how to make knives, pottery, and leather . . . how to purify water, build shelters, and start fires without matches or lighters. And, they would learn how to find and prepare food in the wild. There would be several instructors from the area and other nature-loving families attending.

She couldn’t believe Peter didn’t like the courses. She added, “Come on. Any other boy would love that stuff.”

“I doubt it,” he shot back. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the subject matter. It was that he didn’t like being cooped up with his family, and other Neanderthals, as he called them, for a whole week and isolated from his computer games.

They finished their meal in silence.