Intro
Dazzling light flickers across my closed eyes, shining bright reds and gold’s. Eyelids flutter open to a glorious canopy of green, softly dancing leaves stretching miles above. Shafts of sunbeams burst through the dancers, illuminating the vast forest below.
Branches swish gently back and forth, trees have always had such a soothing effect on me. The array of colours, amazes me from deep blacks to blazing whites and everything in between. A breeze ripples through the the branches making them flurry and sway.
My eye focuses straight above, at the crown cover, a large gap streams in sunshine. One branch has grown and stretched higher than the rest, reaching a tendril, a hand towards the sun. A waft of sour acrid air distracts my gaze, eyes dart to the source, a sweetly sour odour, so delicate, images of creatures running through the bushes conjure in my mind, skunk maybe or possibly something more sinister. I take notice now, more notes in the air, the damp earth combined with decaying leaves that surround me, somewhere not too far there’s a stagnant pond it’s sulphuric tones are mellowed by the sweet gorse bush behind me. That ignites something in my mind. A childhood that could be eons ago, a gorse bush, children laughing, running and playing. The heady scent wafting over the meadow mingling with the familiar smells of home…
Something sharper creeps through my day dream. A thick Iron or Copper taste fills the air, like the jar of pennies Uncle Matt kept on his desk, I remember the smell would stick to my hands after counting them out. I loved to count them into piles over and over again. The smell would be so thick you could taste it. Like now, the smell was so strong I could taste it. Instinctively my hand runs over the rough ground, cold radiates up into my already numb form. The forest floor is littered with cast offs from the towering trees, sharp needles and blades, twigs and branches stomped down to an earthy mulch. How long have I sat here. The tranquil calm the forest brought me was leaching away, my heart thunders in my chest, it's song beats out a sad tune. Love and joy bubble to my mind and crashes down around me. A face conjures in my mind, a beautiful face that brings such joy and utter broken hearted loss.
The pool of blood has absorbed into the forest floor, his cool body grows heavy in my arms. How long have we been here? Looking down at his body I focus on his face, I can’t see his eyes they have swollen shut, the purple and black bruising obscures his features. Do I really want to remember him like this? The clamour of fighting in the distance grows louder. Panic and fear jump start my instincts. I can't stay here, I’ve already been here too long. Urging myself on I lay his body gently on the forest floor with one last glance I run into the trees.
Branches and briars snatch and grab as I barge through the forest, the forest seems to be thwarting my every move. A root catches my foot and my ankle pops, pain shoots through my body, falling, the ground coming up fast to meet me as I fall. A soft flump, as the bed springs protest against my prone form. Blankets tangled all around me, warmth spreads through my core. I'm home, in bed, safe.
The boys!
Chapter One
Hastily untangling my legs from my bedding, both feet hit the floor before I notice the pain, pushing to a stand my body protests. A scream escapes my tightly clamped lips as again the floor comes up to greet me, this time I hit it hard. I've barely touched the floor when my bedroom door is swung open pounding against the wall. Aaron stands looming over me.
“Morning sunshine.”cocking an eyebrow as he assessed me prone on the floor “So what have you done this time?” he bends down towards me places a large hand lightly on my thigh, his light brown hair falls forward.
“Where’s James?” panic soaking every syllable.
“Kitchen, he's fine” tilting his head towards the back of the house “Just getting breakfast sorted. Now what hurts?”
I should be less surprised, it's not the first time Aaron or James has had to pick me up off the floor, nor will it be the last. I roll my eyes. Avoiding his gaze I answer, slightly abashed.
“I think I twisted my ankle, the left one” That thought I hate tumbles through my mind, if you die in a dream do you die in real life?
His giant hands, encased in rough weathered skin gently examined my very swollen ankle. The root mark is clear across the face of my foot. Distracting my morbid thoughts.
“Could be a sprain, it's real swollen though… Bed or couch?”
Before I can answer he's swung me up into his arms as gentle as possible. Making me feel like a rag doll.
“Couch, please, tea maybe and my book there by the bed, if you don't mind?”
Glancing up with my big blue eyes cast wide and sad, my bottom lip pouted, puppy eyes have always worked on Aaron, especially if I was hurting. He just mimics my earlier sentiment by rolling his eyes and reaches for my book. As he leans over to grab my book the morning sun cast a ray of golden light over his face. Tawny amber flecks glisten in his hazel eyes, yellow crystals lace the pupils. His eyes make me think of something wild and wonderful, yet a softness to his gaze could make the hardest heart melt. His shoulders now they would make other parts melt. He has a shoulder waist ratio of a Dorito, I mentally slap myself on the wrist. Even though we'd grown up together, and I love him and James completely, I've always seen Aaron as something like a friend and James as my annoying adopted brother, Aaron's actual brother.
Thinking about his broad shoulders and chest while he cradled me was doing something dreadful to my libido. As a grown woman I could appreciate him on that level. I'd never act on it, put my family or our friendship in jeopardy, I hope, I need to get out more. Pushing his way through the kitchen door the smell of bacon grilling was simply divine.
“Ha!” a harsh cackle echoes off the kitchen titles. “What has she done this time?” James, my beautiful and wonderful James, he likes to omit me from conversations about my well-being, a nervous tick of sorts.
“Probably just a twisted ankle, I'll call The Doc, see if he can see us tomorrow.” concern flits across his face as he catches my eye. As I'm still draped over his arms it's not that hard to do, his intense stare makes me hyper aware of one simple fact. I'm bra-less, and jiggling.
“You okay to wait till tomorrow?” his question brings me back to the here and now.
“Yea, it doesn't really hurt, well only when I stand on it. I'll be grand” eyeing the couch internally begging to be put down, my body is betraying me by reacting to the closeness with Aaron, all that jiggling and my libido has my breast pert and my nipples hard. Noticeably so through my cotton vest top.
Without further a do or flourish Aaron props me up on the couch with the footstool cradling my ankle.
The morning passed swiftly, no more excitement. Breakfast was enjoyed without a question about what happened to me, scrambled eggs, bacon, tea and toast, we scoffed our breakfast on the couch with some Discovery Channel documentary informing us how to survive in Alaska. We each share that dream, practically live it too, a cabin settled in the mountains, the snow and exclusion. We have managed to get as close to it as possible in Ireland. Tucked away on the side of a mountain, engulfed by trees. A trip to town is a 40 minute car ride, and then the town is a one doctor, one shop , one pub village. It works for us and our homemade business, James is an artist or sorts, he makes his furniture in the barn by the back of the house, near the tree line. Beautiful pieces of fallen wood he's claimed from the forest. Aaron does all the selling and negotiating, leaving me to run the website and look after the books. We also jointly manage the forest we own, it was inheritance from our Uncle Matt, the boys true uncle and my adopted guardian.
Afternoon creeps into evening without notice. At some point James has slipped away to the barn, the light illuminating the yard gives him away. Being house bound doesn't suit him at all, he deals with the stresses of life in the barn. Aaron hasn't strayed further than the kitchen all day. Flicking through the channels, popping on a DVD. Alternating heat packs and ice packs to my ankle. Plying me with tea with a side of painkillers and swapping out my book with the next one in the Series. It had been a beautiful day, sunshine poured in the windows all day. It's been gradually night has been taking over. Aaron starts a fire and puts the leftover lasagna in the oven. James must have snuck in as his boots are propped by the door. Looking out the window the moon has rose up and taken the day. I'm dreading bedtime, the fear of the broken body in my arms grips me. I just can't shake the image. It could be either of my boys, or someone else's. A slight shift in weight on the cushion has me glancing up into tawny amber eyes.
“Are we going to know what it was or are you going to keep it to yourself?” tilting his head towards James who has sauntered into the room showered and changed.
“Come on Sammy, we’ll find out eventually…” James leans against the island counter, crossing his ankles and arms. Stubborn as a mule. Aaron stretches to a stand , shuffles over to the kitchen counter and pops the kettle on.
Dinner is laid out and while we all sit snugly into the window seat table I fumble with my words. Not knowing where to start. James rests a heavy hand over my pale pink fingers giving them a gentle squeeze.
“It's okay Sammy, we’ll sort it”
It takes a little bit longer than I thought to get through the details, we’ve done this before. Too many times to count. Through trial and error the boys find it easier to listen from start to finish and leave the questions until the end.
The first time I had a dream like this James was the person I told. My best friend would know what to do, it had scared me so much. I never wanted these to be real. We were only 5 that first time, he did what he thought best and brought me to Uncle Matt. Matt listened. Made me tea and told me he'd look into it. So from then on the boys took my dreams seriously, just like Matt always did. My dreams are a mix of premonitions, past experiences or real life events. Sometimes I know straight away what it is. Other times it takes a few weeks to understand the complete picture. I recant as much as I can, trying not to leave out any vital piece of information. I look to James, his face is pale and waxy, he looks like he's going to be sick. I can't read Aaron's face, he shows no emotion there, but his body tells a different story, his arms coiled and taut across his chest, biceps bulging, a solid vein popping the length of his forearm. He utters one word “Premonition?” he shoves his plate away from him half eaten, he’s voiced the question that we’re all thinking. Looking straight through me, remembering this morning.
“When you fell, you, you wanted to know where James was.” he focuses on me for confirmation.
“I don't know.” shaking my head “Oh I really don't know if it was even us or someone else yet. It's the first time I've had it.” I don't want to meet their eyes. To them this could be it. If we die in the dream, do we die in real life?
Chapter Two
A doctor visit the next morning leads to a trip to Dublin for an X-RAY. Not just a sprained ankle, but a lovely broken foot. I used to make up elaborate excuses when I was younger because who is going to believe I woke up like this. No, no excuses or lies. Lies get you hauled into the social worker's office and have investigations into your family's comings and goings. I try stick to the main details, running in the woods. That's it. This injury gets logged in my file along side hundreds of others. Luckily a lot of my injuries get put down to my Dyspraxia, uncoordinated, clumsy me. If I was to ever read my own file I'd come across a few choice phrases, hyperactive, attention seeking, acting out. Then there'd be the acronyms, ADD, ADHD, the list goes on. It's such a lovely day, blue skies dotted with white fluffy little clouds, tufts of candyfloss floating lazily in the blue infinity above.
Aaron's face breaks my daydream, smiling down at me he pulls the door open and helps me out of the truck. Army green flat bed Toyota. She works well for her age, Matt would say after a trip to Dublin, then he’d pat her bonnet. Now Aaron absently pats her and looks at me.
“Can you manage?” indicating to the crutches poised and ready.
“Yea I'm good, see not a bother. I'm going to stay out here for a bit. Enjoy the bit sun.”
“Alright so, just give us a shout if ye need anything.” without waiting for a response he sauntered up the steps, cleared the porch in one stride and was swallowed up by the house.
I make quick work of getting onto the porch, then using the crutches I swing down the length of the porch and come around the side of the house. This part of the porch gets the sun all day long. My mother loved to sit out here with uncle Matt so much so that one day we arrived to find a beautiful porch swing alongside a table and several hand carved chairs. She'd sit out here all year round, taking tea with Matt , being a second mum to the boys.
With my foot raised resting on the seat in front of me I let my mind wander , my eye settles on the forest. The tree line is at its closest point to the house here, at dusk if you sit still enough the animals come out to the yard. I've always had an affinity for the forest,
