Moon Pirate (Priscilla Clarke: Book 1) Page 5

  Demetria glanced over at Priscilla, nodding and shaking her head silently as it rested in her aging hands. “Look,” she began, feeling guilty. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Demetria,” Priscilla said regretfully. “I just lashed out because I guess that I’m a bit more overwhelmed with Moon Piracy and my sister and the dreams than what I could have possibly ever let you know.”

  “Child, child,” Demetria finally said, sounding tired and alone in such a way that made Priscilla’s heart ache. “I am an old, lonely woman. I was once strong and independent like you are beginning to become now. Yet, as I grow older each and every day, I begin to realize more and more that I am losing my place in the world--perhaps even with the Moon Pirates.”

  “Are you trying to make me feel bad on purpose?” Priscilla asked her. “Is this another test to see if I am worthy enough to go through with this unknown mission?” she added.

  “No, I am not,” she said. “I sincerely believe that my assistance to your cause can be postponed until the anniversary of your sister, Belinda’s disappearance.” She retrieved a worn-out looking handkerchief from the pocket of her button-down blouse and wiped at the budding tears in the corners of her eyes. “Now, go, child,” she said once more.

  “Okay,” Priscilla finally answered. “I’ll try, I guess.” She walked away, then looked back for a moment at Demetria’s fragile, weakened frame before heading out to her car and driving home. This is going to be much, much harder than I had originally predicted, Priscilla thought.

  She drove home more slowly than she ever had, taking in all the sights of the world around her. On the highway, Priscilla noticed that a young couple walked down the street with a baby and their little Yorkshire Terrier, without a single care to their names. An elderly man crossed in front of a neighboring car with his walker, and some pre-teen children could be heard playing baseball in a park somewhere out into the distance.

  At that point, Priscilla had absolutely no idea where she was going; only that she had to go somewhere; anywhere other than her home, or else she would have many questions to answer to. She couldn’t risk that; her whole family could be in danger if they ever came into contact with even the slightest bit of classified information on the Moon Pirates. She passed by a small coffee shop. It was different from the one that she usually went to, but it would have to do for now.

  Priscilla pulled into the parking lot of the tiny mom-and-pop cafe, careful not to arouse suspicion from the owners of the nearly vacant place. She crossed over to the perfectly smoothed sidewalk that was so much neater than the one leading up to Hear the Word. Priscilla, noticing that there was no chime by the door, knocked shyly at the battered window; its glass not glass at all, but, rather, a flimsy kind of plastic likened to that which packaged the dolls she had played with as a child. A woman even older than Demetria answered the door.

  “Hello, I’m Cindy,” she said. “Can I help you with anything?” she asked, pulling up the faded sleeve of her pale pink blouse. “Maybe you’d like me to give you directions or something?” The woman looked surprised to see Priscilla.

  “No thank you,” she replied, briefly looking back to make sure that her car had not been stolen; after all, it was a rough neighborhood. “I was hoping to eat here and hang out for a little while. What do you have? Maybe a donut and a fruit smoothie?” Even saying this, though, she knew anything she ate at such a dingy place would surely not compare to what she’d had at the diner a couple of days earlier.

  Cindy laughed, coughing the cough of a long-time smoker in the process. “Sorry, kiddo,” she replied. “I can only get you a strawberry milkshake and some good, old-fashioned apple pie.” Priscilla smiled just as the woman added, “It’s fresh out of the oven, too. I make it all myself--from scratch. You don’t get that very often these days.”

  “You sure don’t,” Priscilla said, pushing a fallen piece of hair back, away from her snow-white face. “At least not anywhere I’ve been.”

  “They used to have it at the diner downtown,” Cindy responded. “That actually used to be my place before. Now my granddaughter, Rory, works there. She’s a piece of work, that girl. But, a nice young woman like you? You probably haven’t been there.”

  “You’re kidding,” Priscilla supplied. “You know,” she said, chuckling, “I have been there; recently, to be quite honest. Rory is a little eccentric, but there’s no harm in that. I like her.”

  “Oh,” Cindy began, “don't get me wrong, she’s great and all. It’s not at all that I don’t like her. It’s more that she doesn’t like herself.” The woman began to walk into the empty coffee shop, ushering with her hand for Priscilla to follow.

  After she had finished what had to have been the most delicious pie and milkshake of her life, Priscilla decided to dig a little deeper into the thing with Abby and Lindsey by grilling Cindy in the most subtle way possible. After all, she thought, I must have ended up here for a reason, right? Maybe Demetria is watching out for me still, in her own weird way.

  “So,” she began, addressing Cindy casually. “Why do you think that Rory doesn’t like herself? She seemed pretty optimistic and outgoing to me.”

  “Well,” said Cindy, “she had some issues. Got involved with the wrong type of man; had twin girls when she was still kind of young. Then, that terrible thing happened.”

  “What terrible thing?” Priscilla pretended to ask, adding quickly, “If you don’t mind talking about it, that is.”

  “Lindsey went missing a couple of years ago,” she said. “The poor kid just went A-wall in the middle of the night and they never found her. They think that she ran off and got hit by a car; a drunk driver or something like that.” Cindy was almost in tears. She wiped away at her moist eyes with a cheesy paper napkin. “I miss her so, so much,” she added. The woman was nearly wailing by then.

  Well, I guess she doesn’t know anything about what really happened to Lindsey, Priscilla thought, regretting her choice to bring it up. “Look,” she said, trying to show as much sympathy as she possibly could to someone she did not know. “I’m so sorry, Cindy. I should never have asked you something so personal; I apologize.” She reached out to put her hand on Cindy’s thin shoulder.

  “Ah,” the woman said, shooing away Priscilla’s hand before it touched her. “I’m fine. Besides, it’s getting late.” She pointed at a wall clock that was shaped like a coffee cup. The time-piece read five o’ clock at night; later than what Priscilla thought it was. “You should go home now,” Cindy said, “to your family--or your friends--whoever they might be.” She patted at her eyes again. “You just never know when they’ll be taken away from you, or you from them. Just never know.” Cindy’s voice was shaking.

  Although she hated leaving Cindy in such a state, Priscilla didn’t really know what else to do, so she simply looked at her as kindly as possible, then left for home. She was all on her own now. At least, until August, that was.

  Chapter Six: Meeting Michael

  The next morning, Priscilla slept in. After all, Demetria had dismissed her from her imaginary career, at least for the time being. To her surprise, and, frankly, her relief, Priscilla’s mother and father said absolutely nothing about it. By about ten in the morning, though, she had gotten tired enough of lying in bed all day, so she decided to get up. She was not sure of what she’d end up doing with the rest of her day, but she knew that she had to do something or else her parents would realize that she had not actually been working and that there was more to her new life than she was leading on to them.

  After pulling herself out of bed against the force of its infinite coziness, she took a longer-than-usual shower and took her time to dress in a cute skirt, a pink beaded tank top, and wedge sandals. Then, she did her makeup, covering her face in electric foundation, followed by thick black eyeliner and mascara. She painted her lips cherry red, and, after looking in the mirror for a moment, decided to add a smidgen of blue eyeliner that was barely a shade off from the color of her icy, Antarctic irises.


  Priscilla headed downstairs to the kitchen. “Mom?” she called. No answer. I guess they’re the ones who really slept in today, she thought. “I guess I’ll go make myself a fruit smoothie,” she said out loud to no one in particular.

  She carefully blended a mix of blueberries, banana, and soy milk, pouring it into her oversized glass. She always liked to stir it by hand with a whisk; never rushing her method to ensure that her smoothie came out just right. Once it was done, she gulped it down as quickly as possible before heading out.

  Priscilla wasn't sure where she expected to find herself when she actually decided on a destination, but she knew that she wanted to have a little fun. After some thought as she drove aimlessly around Boston, she finally chose a large shopping mall where people her age often hung out in the summer time.

  Well, she thought. Here goes nothing. Priscilla Clarke walked into the main plaza of the mall. Suddenly feeling hungry, she stopped at the food court to pick up a muffin. So much for that diet she was on. The person at the counter was a teenage boy, at least, that was what his voice sounded like.

  "What would you like?" He asked before the voice abruptly ceased to speak. Priscilla looked up and she instantly saw why he was now staring at her. The two of them could have been twins; that was how eerily alike they looked.

  "A muffin," she said.

  "Right up." The guy still looked completely awestruck. "I'm Michael," he added.

  "I'm Priscilla." Michael handed her a cranberry muffin from a large tray behind the polished metal counter.

  "Is this one okay with you?" He asked. His eyebrow furrowed and his mouth formed a friendly smile. It wasn't at all creepy like Demetria's.

  "Of course." Priscilla took a huge bite out of her muffin, suddenly noticing that she was tired and her mouth was a bit dry.

  As if he instinctively knew what she was thinking, Michael went back into the kitchen. He came back with an iced coffee and handed it to her. "I thought you might want this."

  Priscilla smiled, batting her eyelashes as flirtatiously as she could with all of her inexperience. She started to feel just a little bit self-conscious about her looks, even though she was dressed more nicely than she often did. I wonder if that's a coincidence. Hmm. She was pretty sure at this point that Michael was a Moon Pirate; probably the twin brother of a Moon Pirated Child. But, did he know? She wished for about a billionth of a second that her mentor were there, but, once she was reminded of the situation by Michael's stares, she was glad that was not the case. After all, they definitely had a lot in common.

  Snap out of it, Priscilla. She figured that she was kidding herself if she thought even for just a moment that she or Michael or Belinda or any of them could have a normal life outside of Moon Piracy. Whoa, she thought. I'm getting ahead of myself here. Technically, I'm not even a real Moon Pirate yet.

  "Thanks," she said. Michael smiled back with perfectly white teeth and full pink lips. Priscilla walked back out of the food court. She breezed past a big blur of shoppers before sitting down at a park-style bench by the water fountain. The cranberry muffin and iced coffee were an absolutely delicious combination. Her mouth slowly savored the sweetness mixed with bitterness that hinted at a tinge of French vanilla. Michael must have added it to her coffee without her asking. It was a punishable offense to most people, but Priscilla didn't mind in the very least.

  A small blonde girl walked up to the fountain. She was about three or four years old and dressed in the stereotypical pink, fluffy dress. She held a weathered copper penny in her little hand, and she looked over curiously at Priscilla as she attempted to toss it into the center of the pristine fountain. The penny landed on the floor by the bench where she sat.

  "Here you go," Priscilla said, picking up the coin from in front of her feet. "Let's try that again." She handed the penny back to the little girl. She smiled as she threw it into the water. Bull's eye.

  "See," she said to the little girl. "You've got it."

  "Melanie," a woman's frustrated voice called out. A thirty-something who looked like an older version of the child rushed up to her and picked her up. "How many times did Mommy tell you not to run off on me or talk to strangers? Huh? How many?"

  The child's eyes widened, ashamed. "A lot," she replied. "Like millions and millions!" the girl giggled, forgetting to be upset. The mother gave Priscilla a dirty look and took off with her daughter in her arms.

  Priscilla shrugged it off. Whatever. She sucked down the last bit of her coffee and tossed the clear, plastic cup into a trash can near the other side of the fountain. She noticed a large sign in the window of her favorite boutique. It read: SALE HERE 50% OFF! With that, Priscilla decided to go into the store.

  She spotted a rack of sundresses in the sale aisle, and a mint green one with pale purple flowers speckled over it, immediately caught her eye. Priscilla absolutely loved the thick, wide waistband made of eyelet lace. She felt down the sleeve until her hands found the rough cardboard price tag. Huge red numbers put the sale price at seventy-five dollars; more than she could ever afford. The blacked-out original had been a hundred and fifty. She sighed, but, before long, she got an idea.

  Once Priscilla was at home, she decided to carry out her plan. Of course, with the coffee and the fact that it was still somewhat early, she wasn't even close to tired. She would have needed Demetria in order to be hypnotized. That left her with the other option. I really shouldn't do this, she thought. But, she did anyway.

  In the kitchen, she reached her hand into a cabinet and looked through some old pill bottles. Antibiotics. Nope. Allergy medication. Not that either. Grandma's sleeping pills? There they are, those little buggers. Priscilla filled herself a glass of tap water from the sink and put two of the sleeping pills in her mouth. They tasted terrible, probably because they were already expired. Yuck. She quickly gulped down the whole cup of water, the tiny blue tablets washing their merry way down her throat with it.

  By the time she got to her bedroom, Priscilla was already feeling drowsy. She laid down in her bed and began to drift off. Soon, she could feel her consciousness drifting away from her physical body. She was in the store, standing right in front of the dress, looking at it. She picked it up in her hands, but it felt like air.

  Where is Belinda? Panic rose up from inside of her. Her sister was not there. Why was this happening to her? Was it possible that she had done something wrong--that there would be--rules? Priscilla began clutching and grasping tightly at the non-existent dress. She looked around her; people were everywhere, but not one of them looked over in her direction.

  Before she had any idea what was happening to her, Priscilla could feel herself start turning into air along with the dress. Tiny speckles of herself began to lose density and disperse; at least that’s what seemed to be happening, anyway. The other, more realistic mall shoppers were laughing and going about their activities as usual.

  The feeling of being in a large vortex returned to her and she was being sucked deeper and deeper into it. Priscilla felt a sudden chill creep up along her entire body. She was spinning in infinite circles for what seemed like forever. She feared that there would be no escape from this journey. Her heart raced with lightning speed and she felt entirely helpless. By now, the mall boutique and the people in it were invisible to her; perhaps gone from wherever she was.

  Just when Priscilla thought that it was not at all possible for her to see anything but the vortex; just when she though she might die, she landed on something hard and moist. Brushing a jet black wave out of in front of her face, she looked all the way up before looking down. The sky itself was a deep blue-black and wrought with flashes of lightning and booms of deafening thunder. The moon was round and full; pale as a blank sheet of printing paper and surrounded by an endless expanse of tiny yellow stars that were so perfect they looked almost cartoon-ish.

  Then, she looked down. Priscilla was sitting awkwardly on an earthen ground that was dry and concrete despite the heavy downpour of rain descending
from the night sky. Struggling to keep her balance because she was so shaken, she got up and brushed the dirt off of her clothes. Priscilla looked around at all of the nothingness, and then it hit her.

  I’m there, she thought. I’m in the other realm, with the Moon Pirates. But, where are they. In that very moment, Priscilla realized that she had gone to meet her mission far too soon. Demetria had not even planned on continuing Priscilla’s Moon Lighter training until August, when she was supposed to complete her final mission. Now, without Demetria’s permission; without her own permission, she had gone to the other realm that she honestly did not even know the name of. What would her mother and father think? Had she failed Belinda and the other Moon Pirated Children? Or, was this part of the plan to begin with. After all, Demetria had claimed to know all things before they ever happened. So, had she known this all along. Perhaps it was another test; one to see if Priscilla would choose to obey or choose to disobey. Would she ever be forgiven if she had done something truly unanticipated?

  Priscilla kept on walking, yet she had nowhere to go. Fear had conquered her spirit; she was left frightened and alone in an unknown realm where dreams became reality. Once again, she heard the strange and sinister footsteps of the Moon Pirates coming towards her; she could not bear the sound, although she sincerely wished that her sister was among them.

  Just then, a loud boom of deafening thunder sounded, causing a monstrous bolt of lighting to strike the ground just a few feet from where Priscilla stood. She fell to the ground. Her hands were forced down onto the earth in front of her and were bloodied with scratches and biting cuts in the pale flesh of her upper limbs.

  “We are ready for you, now,” thousands of young voices said at once, their menacingly innocent smiles almost audible while remaining yet unseen. “It is time for you to choose how to save us; how to save Belinda.” Priscilla could hear the sound of a young girl’s pixie-like laughter amidst the darkness.