Chapter Three
She abruptly woke, her
heart pounding, and fought off the fog of confusion in her mind as
she struggled to remember where she was. The dream had come again,
which was unusual. Normally, it was the night that brought it to
her. But she had found herself standing in that moonlit glen, and
the owl had been there, floating as silent as a ghost into the
starlit sky, unheeding to her calls.
Sarah groaned and sat
up, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Looking around, she realized
belatedly that they had already arrived at her grandparents'
farmhouse. She had slept for the entire three hours? Her parents
were unloading the car, and she stumbled out to help them, unbuckling
a sleepy Toby from his car seat. It was around three o'clock in the
afternoon, judging by the position of the sun.
Suddenly, the front door
of the old farmhouse banged open, and out came an elderly woman with
graying blond hair and twinkling eyes. "Well, if it isn't my
long lost son come to visit his old ma," she called out
teasingly, grinning widely. "I was beginning to think you'd
never show, Danny Boy!"
"Hi, Mom," ‘Danny
Boy’ called wryly, hoisting a large shopping bag filled with
gifts over one shoulder and a suitcase over the other. "Where's
Pop?" He glanced at Sarah and Karyn, who were grinning at him.
"Not a word," he warned.
"Of course not,"
Karyn began innocently.
"...‘Danny
Boy’," Sarah finished wickedly, grinning at her father's
expression.
"Oh, Jack's out back, chopping some
firewood for the stove," Marie Williams was saying fondly.
"Wanted to keep the house nice and warm for company. Been cold
up here. I wouldn't be surprised if it started snowing by Christmas."
"Should he be doing
that? His back, I mean..." Daniel trailed off in concern.
Marie snorted. "I
told him, the old fart, but you know how stubborn he is. Anyway,
he'll be in soon enough. Now, let me get a look at these grandkids
of mine!" She took the porch steps nimbly, fixing her eyes on
Toby, who was hiding shyly behind Sarah's leg. "Well, can this
handsome little fellow possibly be Toby?" she asked the child
teasingly. "You must've grown a foot since I saw you last!"
Toby giggled, ducking
further around Sarah's leg. Marie straightened for a better look at
her only granddaughter. "My, Sarah, you get prettier every time
I see you," she said fondly. "You are certainly growing up
beautifully."
"Thanks, Gram,"
Sarah replied with a smile. "Guess I take after you, huh?"
Marie laughed. "Oh,
now I remember why you're my favorite granddaughter," she
teased, ruffling Sarah's dark hair. "Well, come on, all. Let's
get inside and warmed up. I've got spiced apple cider warming on the
stove." She gave Karyn a brief hug in passing, taking up a bag,
and everyone followed her into the house, where Jack Williams was
just hanging up his coat.
"Hey, now,
everyone! Looks like I got done just in time!" he said in his
booming voice. He gave Karyn and Sarah each a hug, then shook his
son's hand, and then solemnly shook Toby's little paw in the same
manner before winking and pulling a candy cane out of his shirt
pocket. Toby beamed at him, then retreated to Karyn for help in
unwrapping the candy. Soon, though, he became far more interested in
all the brightly-wrapped packages under the Christmas tree, which was
decorated in the old country style with gingham ribbons, handmade
gingerbread and punched-tin ornaments, and strings of dried
cranberries and popcorn.
Marie took the bag of
gifts and placed it behind the tree, then gestured for her family to
follow her upstairs. "You all know where your rooms are, so I'll
just make sure you all get settled before I head on down to start
dinner, okay?"
Sarah hoisted her bag
and headed down the hall, stopping at the last door on the right.
This was the guest room where she always stayed whenever she came for
a long visit, which happened less and less now that she had grown up.
Her face lit in a smile when she opened the door and found the room
exactly the way it had been the last time she'd stayed there, nearly
a year ago, and every time she'd visited before that.
The curtains and bedding
were done in shades of green, gold and cream. The four-poster bed,
the dresser, and the desk were all made of white oak, and there was
an overstuffed reading chair that was probably as old as Sarah,
spread with a deep cranberry cotton afghan. With a contented sigh,
Sarah curled up in the chair and stared out the window, which
afforded her a fantastic view of the "backyard", which
looked more like a small wildlife reserve than a yard. There was no
snow on the ground as of yet, but she had seen it plenty of times
covered in a thick blanket of sparkling white, and she knew it was a
beautiful sight.
Why can't I feel this
peaceful at home? she thought, pulling the afghan up to her chin.
It's like I feel more at home out here in the middle of nowhere
than I do back there surrounded by people. I wish Dad and Karyn would
buy a house like this out in the wilderness. Or maybe I should, if I
do become an actress. Yeah, this would be a perfect place to escape
from all the pressures of life. I'd come out here, and nobody would
ever know where I was, and all the reporters would be talking about
Sarah Williams' mystery home, and maybe even start offering money to
anyone who could get a picture of it.
Sarah frowned at that
part, imagining a bunch of strangers swarming all over her peaceful
home like a bunch of buzzards, and quickly decided that maybe she
would have to get a few guard dogs to keep away trespassers. Better
yet, she'd raise a wolf or two to keep them away, and they would run
wild in the forest, but they'd be her best friends. Sarah smiled at
her childish musings. Maybe she'd raise some attack birds, while she
was at it. She'd always loved birds of prey, especially falcons and
owls.
She opened her eyes and
frowned again. Since when did I ever love owls?
Suddenly feeling
chilled, she tossed off the cover and pushed herself out of the
chair. I need some of Gram's cocoa, she decided, and headed
down to the kitchen.
"Pull up a chair,"
Marie offered when Sarah came in, and filled a mug with rich
chocolate. "Here ya go, honey. Help yourself to some Christmas
cookies, too."
Sarah smiled gratefully
as she carefully sipped the hot drink. Toby was busily cramming as
many cookies as he could fit into his mouth before Karyn noticed and
quickly put an end to it. Sarah listened with half an ear as her
stepmother and grandmother chatted, catching up on gossip, as it
were. Her eyes fixed on the dark liquid in her mug, she didn't
realize at first that Karyn was trying to get her attention.
"Huh? What?"
she stammered, looking up sharply.
"Where were you?"
Karyn asked with a smile. "You looked a million miles away."
"Oh, I ... uh...
was just ... thinking about ... things," Sarah stammered, not
meeting her eyes. She'd been thinking about the dream, if one wanted
to get technical, but she wasn't about to volunteer any information.
As it turned out, she
didn't need to.
"So," Karyn
asked coyly. "Who might Jareth be?"
"What?" Sarah
was so startled that she tipped her mug over. Luckily, she'd already
drank most of its contents, so there wasn't much of a mess. She
concentrated on mopping up the remaining chocolate with napkins and
tried to gather her composure. "How ... how did you know about
Jareth?" she finally asked, trying to sound as casual as
possible (and suspecting that she'd failed miserably).
Karyn raised an eyebrow.
"Well, you were mumbling his name on the way up here. You were
dreaming of him, I guess. So who is he?"
Sarah's mind went blank.
She hadn't dreamed of Jareth! She rarely even thought about him!
Well ... she supposed she did think about him, but her dream had
nothing to do with him, she insisted stubbornly to herself.
Besides that, she didn't remember calling out any names, especially
that one.
"Well?" Now
Marie was interested. "Aren't you going to answer your mother?"
Her eyes twinkled merrily; Sarah had forgotten how much her
grandmother liked to play matchmaker.
She opened her mouth,
then closed it again. "He-he's nobody," she managed to
reply. "He's just ... I mean ... he really isn't anybody at
all."
Karyn raised an eyebrow,
clearly not convinced, and Marie chuckled. "Come on, kid, don't
be shy. He must be somebody, if you were dreaming about him.
Is he a secret crush, maybe?"
Sarah blanched. A
secret crush? How absurd! "Jareth is nothing but a ... a
character in a storybook!" she blurted. "He's not even
real! You remember, Karyn, that book I was always reading when I was
younger? He was the villain in the story. I don't ... I don't know
why I dreamed about him. Maybe it was like ... memories or
something. You know how weird my imagination is.” She gave a
little laugh as Karyn and Gram exchanged glances.
“Okay, if you say
Jareth isn't anyone important, than he isn't anyone important. End
of subject,” Karyn finally conceded, sounding not the least bit
convinced. She took another sip of her drink, a clear dismissal, and
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief.
Gram, however, looked as
if she still wanted to press for details, but Sarah really didn't
feel like talking anymore. "I'm going for a walk," she
announced, and stood and headed for the door, grabbing her coat off
the rack along the way. "What's the matter with me?" she
grumbled as she marched across the field toward the woods. "Getting
all worked up over nothing. Nothing!" She sighed, her breath
frosting the cold air. She knew she'd hurt Karyn by not opening up
to her, but this was a subject that she really didn't know how to
approach, considering Karyn had no idea about the truth behind the
matter. The relationship between the two of them had improved
greatly over the past three years ... but there were some things that
Sarah just couldn't talk about to anyone, no matter how much she
wanted to. How could anyone possibly understand what she had gone
through, especially her practical, no-nonsense stepmother? Karyn
would think her stepdaughter had gone nuts!
Deep in thought, Sarah
wasn't paying particular attention to where she was going. There was
a clear path winding through the trees for her to follow, so she
allowed her feet to blindly lead her as she mused over her problems.
It was only when she tripped over a stray tree root and stumbled into
a bright patch of sunlight that she realized she ought to be paying
more attention to where she was going. Looking about, she found
herself standing in a glen; a small, perfectly round clearing covered
in dried, mossy grass. She frowned. She had traversed this woodland
many a time over the years, and she could not recall ever coming
across a clearing like this in her past wanderings. But the setting
really was beautiful.
And ... strangely
familiar.
Sarah frowned again,
remembering, and suddenly her eyes widened in shock as her hand came
up to smother a sharp gasp. This was ... this was the glen.
The very same one in her dream! Sure, it was flooded with the deep,
red-gold light of sunset rather than the silver of full moonlight,
but even the small, stunted tree growing at the far end was the
spitting image of the one she recalled seeing in her dream setting.
That's impossible. It
was only a dream, she told herself firmly, trying hard not to
panic. How could she possibly have dreamed this up?
No, the question was ...
how could it possibly be real?
She found herself
gasping, and forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. "Okay,
calm down," she whispered. "There is a logical explanation
for this. Maybe I did find this clearing before, and my memory used
it for the dream setting."
That was certainly
logical. But, deep down, she also knew it was wrong. She knew this
forest, and she knew she'd never seen the clearing before ...
anywhere outside of her dream, that is.
Maybe she was just
finally going completely crazy? That was also logical, if a less
pleasant option to consider. She rubbed her hands over her face.
Well, maybe she was just
dreaming again. But it was a dying hope, which a vicious pinch to
her arm swiftly finished off.
She was all set to have
a nice, little nervous breakdown when suddenly, eerily, Sarah
realized that she was being watched. She froze, glancing around the
clearing. Nothing was there. Probably a squirrel, she thought
uneasily. There were plenty of them around.
An odd, low, whistling
cry drifted to her on a faint breeze, and her eyes widened. She
swallowed once, her dry throat aching. The cry sounded again,
drifting through the still air from directly behind her.
Slowly, she turned until
she was facing the other direction, and her eyes fell on the stunted,
twisted tree at the far end of the clearing. There, in the topmost
branches of that tree, perched a large, white bird, which was
regarding her calmly through large, dark, unblinking eyes. The light
poured over its feathers, turning them almost golden in color, but
Sarah barely noticed its beauty; she was too busy trying not to
hyperventilate.
The large white owl
slowly closed one eye, as if winking at her, and hooted again.
