Chapter 2 (The Blackest Years)

The next day I found myself as Seaside Jewels per my aunt making good on her promise to introduce me to Sarah. I didn’t need my aunt to help me makes friends but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Seaside Jewels is a small shop crowded with lots of things. Mostly Jean sells upscale jewelry but she also sells a few clothing items and hair accessories. There’s a counter with a cash register to the left, one small fitting room in the back of the store with an office right next to it.

“Helen? Do you remember my niece, Melanie? She’s here to stay with me for a little bit,” Jean told a lady behind the counter.

“Oh, Melanie! I haven’t seen you in years! Haven’t you gotten pretty?” Helen and Jean have been working together for years but I only met the lady on a few other occasions and barely remember her. I pretend to remember her for everyone’s sake. Helen came around the counter and gave me a hug.

“Hi,” I told her while awkwardly hugging her back. I wasn’t use to people I didn’t know invading my space bubble and, to be honest, I didn’t really like it. Helen seemed like she was just that kind of a lady though.

“Oh Jean you never told me how pretty she was getting!” Helen was still saying while studying me from over her small oval glasses that are perched on her nose.

“Oh but this baggy t-shirt…” Helen made a clucking noise with her tongue, “you know Melanie we sell some very pretty things here. I could help you pick some things out!” I was immediately horrified. Helen was not making it very far up my list of favorite people at the moment.

“Oh Helen leave the poor girl alone! She just got here.” Jean teased her friend.

Jean went around the counter and started shuffling some papers. Helen followed her and they both started talking business. I wondered off through the store thankful that they we’re distracted. I ran my hand over the pretty headbands on display. It must be nice to pick out something nice and just wear it whenever you like. I’ve never had the chance. I always too busy hiding, purposely trying to make myself and inconspicuous as possible. I wore baggy clothes to hide my body. I wore my hair in a ponytail to hide it. I danced on the line of purposely making myself look ugly. Apparently I was unsuccessful because despite my attempts I always had His attention.

The door to the office was propped open. Inside I could see a girl my age sitting on the floor with her legs crossed. She was busy packing necklaces into boxes. Her long blonde hair that was hanging loose hid her face from my view. This must be Sarah. I hovered for a second, debating if I wanted to move on and wait for Jean to be the one to introduce us instead of me awkwardly barging in on her.

Sarah made the decision for me. I guess she sensed me staring at her because she looked up.  

“Oh hi! Are you Melanie?” she asked.

Oops.

“Yea but everyone calls me Mel. Are you Sarah?” I recovered and asked her.

“I am!” she smiled, “your aunt must have told you about me. Young kids in this town are kind of a rarity.”

I noticed.

“Come on in, have a seat! I was just working on these orders,” Sarah said. I hesitated a moment before I sat down on the carpet across from her. The office would have been a big space had it not been for all the things it holds. There are boxes stacked all along a wall and various gift wrap on rolls screwed into the wall on the wall next to that. Behind me is Jean’s desk with a safe under it. Sarah was a cute girl but what struck me most about her was her sense of style. She was wearing jeans tucked into some brown boots with a long sleeved t-shirt with a scarf hung loosely around her neck. The whole look seemed entirely effortless. I wish I could dress myself that easily. I wish I could look that cute and not be entirely insecure about it.

“So are you going to be going to Jefferson?” Sarah asked me while turning her attention back to packing up orders.

“Yea, I am. We were just there today getting me registered,” I told Sarah.

“Good! I go there too! There aren’t a lot of kids there and we’ve all grown up together so it’ll be nice to have someone new,” Sarah was telling me. I couldn’t imagine knowing the same people for my entire life. That one time I cried in Kindergarten over our brand new cat we had just got that I was missing while I was at school would have forever haunted me and been brought into conversation time and again instead of just being a memory lost on what are now strangers when we moved to a new school district. I looked down at her assortment of jewelry, boxes and papers spread out around her.

“Do you want some help with those?” I asked. I don’t know why I offered. I just felt like keeping busy.

She seemed surprised by my offer but accepted anyway. She showed me how to match up the orders on the paper and to the proper merchandise. Then the merchandise gets put into the decorative boxes with the store logo before being mailed away.

We worked in silence for a few minutes. Sarah seemed like she wasn’t the kind of girl who did meaningless talking just to talk and I really liked that about her.

A thought occurred to me.

 “Hey, do you know a kid named Ryan?” I asked her hoping to shed light on the curious conversation I had overheard the other day. It was the only exciting thing to happen in this town in the time I have been here.

Sarah frowned.

“Everyone knows Ryan. After his dad died a few years ago he started getting into trouble. Stealing, drinking, that sort of thing. Maybe more, I don’t really know. I don’t talk to him. All the girls are in love with him but he’s a real player,” she paused and looked up at me, “why?”

“Oh I don’t know,” I flubbed “I just heard some people talking about him. I was curious.”

“Well he’s bad news. I would stay away from him if I were you,” Sarah warned.

I wasn’t planning on going anywhere near him but I didn’t tell Sarah that. I nodded. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a parent. It must have been really hard. No wonder he got into trouble.

“Anyway I’ll have to introduce you the girls, Allison and Lauren. Allison is kind of quiet and shy, but she’s really smart. Lauren is the outgoing one. You’re more than welcome to eat lunch with us. We’ll give you the run down on Jefferson,” Sarah smiled at me.

I gave a weak smile back. It was nice to know that people weren’t going to exclude me because I was new but honestly sometimes I would rather be alone. The thought of meeting more new people kind of exhausted me. Sarah seemed like a really nice girl who means well though. I should give this whole “friendship” thing a shot. I think it used to be fun, at one point in time, before He came along.

“Hey girls,” Jean said when she appeared in the doorway, “Oh Mel, you didn’t have to do that!” She said after she saw the work I was doing.

“Oh I don’t mind,” I told Jean. I really didn’t.

“Yea Jean, she’s actually really good at it! She’s a fast learner,” Sarah was saying.

Jean ran a hand through her hair seemingly lost in thought for a second.

“You know we really could use another hand with the online orders…. How about taking on a part time job for a few days a week Mel?” She finally said.

I was surprised by her offer. I wasn’t actually looking for a job but the work seemed nice enough. The extra cash seemed appealing as well.

“That would be nice,” I told her.

“Well good! Welcome to the team!” Jean smiled at me. “Sarah would you like to show her the rest of the online order process? Maybe give her a tour of the store and tell her a little about our products also?”

“Sure, Jean, I could do that,” Sarah smiled.

“Good, let me know if you have any questions,” Jean said over her shoulder as she walked away.

Sarah spent the rest of the afternoon training me and showing me around. Occasionally customers would come in and browse around. Sarah could pick out the locals from the tourists just by looking at them. Every time someone walked into the store a “bing, bong” sound would charm from above the door.

The sun was setting by the time we got all the orders done and Sarah had finished her training of me. We were gathered up our things and got ready to leave.

“Well, Jean, we’re all set,” Sarah was saying.

“Oh, it’s that time all ready? Mel, I’ve still got some work here that I need to do. You wouldn’t mind walking home, would you? You can find the house, right?” Jean asked me.

I can find the house no problem but before I could answer Sarah stepped in.

“Oh I can take her home, Jean, I wouldn’t mind at all,” she offered.

“Are you sure? I’m not that far away, I don’t mind walking,” I told Sarah. I was tired after all the new information today. A ride home would be nice if she was offering. It was terribly nice of her to offer, having just met me and all.

“Yea, I’m sure. Come on,” Sarah smiled at me.

“Bye guys!” She said over her should to Helen and Jean. Bing Bong went the door as we walked out.

Seaside Jewels has a small parking lot with a few spots off the ally way that runs behind the store. The parking lot had 3 cars. A small blue Prius, my aunt’s maroon Tucson, and a bright red Cadillac CTS. From what I knew of the ladies I was guessing the Prius was Sarah’s and the caddy was Helen’s.

“I’m the blue car,” Sarah told me while we were walking out. I was right.

“Do you drive?” She asked me after we were seated inside.

“I can, yea. I have my license, I just don’t have a car yet,” I told Sarah. My Grandpa is a huge car nut. He used to take me to car shows on the weekends and he taught me how to drive his old Datsun 620 pickup right after I turned 16. Since Jean never got married or had kids and I was the only child for my Mom I turned out to be the grandson he never had. We bonded over superchargers and cat back exhausts.

“I actually really like cars,” I surprised myself by telling Sarah that. I don’t normally give tidbits of information like that away to other people.

Sarah glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m not really a fan of cars, but I like driving! My dad actually picked this out for me. He says I have to pay the car insurance on it though, to ‘build responsibility,’” she lowered her voice in an imitation.

I gave a half smile before looking ahead again.

“You know you should really get a car if you like them so much,” Sarah told me.

“I know, I plan on it,” I told her truthfully.

After Sarah dropped me off I waved goodbye to her and let myself into the empty house.  Soon after my cell phone went off, displaying “call from Mom” on the screen.

“Hi Mom,” I answered.

“Hi honey! How do you like it out there so far?” My Mom responded. I had moved over to the huge expanse of windows in the living room. It’s dark out now so the town below us is light up. Beyond that where the ocean is there’s nothing but complete blackness. Even with all the windows and doors to the outside shut you can still hear the faint sounds of the water moving back and forth, back and forth.

I thought about that question. It’s a beautiful town, much more scenic then the concrete jungle that is Portland. I have a new friend and a job. School starts tomorrow and I’ve always been good at that, too.

“It’s nice,” I finally decided.

“That’s good,” my Mom said.

Chapter 1 (The Blackest Years)

It was the first time in a long time that I slept through the night. I still locked the door before I climbed into bed though, old habits die hard. I woke up slightly disoriented, not remembering where I was. It was the swooshing and crushing of the waves that reminded me. I got out of bed and stumbled over to the door that leads out to the deck. I moved the blinds aside and looked outside, taking in the view in the daylight. The house is situated on a huge steep hill overlooking the ocean. The house is two floors, the main living area upstairs and the bedrooms downstairs in a half basement. The house is carved into the hill so the front part of the house facing away from the ocean is half underground. The back half of the house facing towards the ocean is entirely above ground and supported on stilts carved in the hillside. Each level has its own deck. Down below past the expanse of shrubs and evergreens, at the very base of the hill, is the main road through Rockaway Beach, Oregon. Beyond that is an expanse of sand and then (slightly obscured by the morning fog) is ocean as far as the eye can see. Even when it was almost hidden from view you could still hear it. Even from all the way up here.

I turned away from the window to survey my new room. The only furniture in the white walled plain space is a small twin bed and a white dresser. My aunt was never really a decorator. Her spaces always had a clean, utilitarian way about them. I had only been to this house on a few other occasions, mostly holidays. I had certainly never stayed the night here. My backpack is in the corner sitting on top on the suitcase I also brought along. I dug out some clean clothes and my tooth brush. I opened the door, quietly, just a creak. I had heard pans clacking and water running upstairs but now that my door was open I could hear the talking too. It sounded like I was catching them mid conversation.

“Well what am I supposed to think, Ann? You call me at three in the morning, asking if I could take Melanie for a few months.” My aunt was saying.

“Jim was messing with her, Jean!” My mom said forcefully.

“The entire time we were together. It’s been happening right under my goddamn nose! Melanie only told me last night…” there was a pause.

I made a dash down the hall and into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me as quiet as possible. I didn’t need to listen to this. I was there. I lived it. For 7 whole years, I lived it.

I busied myself in finding a towel (under the sink) and cranking the shower to as hot as I could make it. I didn’t want to think about this. I lathered up my long dark hair trying to block out the memories.

Feeling reckless I shaved my legs for the first time in months.

When I got out of the shower I looked into my refection. My wet dark brown hair hung in tangles around my face. I normally couldn’t afford to take this much time showering. I haven’t really studied my reflection in months, not wanting to even meet my own gaze.  I stared into my green eyes. I wondered if I looked that sad to everyone else. I thought briefly about leaving my hair down for the first time in years before brushing it back into my old standby pony tail. I threw on my baggy t-shirt and jeans after brushing my teeth. I never bothered with make up like the other girls my age. I learned long ago to make myself as unassuming as possible in a vain attempt to direct attention elsewhere. It worked with almost everyone, especially if they were close to my age. It did not work on the one person I wished desperately it would work on.

Upstairs there is a wide expanse of windows on the back side of the house, the side that overlooked the ocean. The windows reached very nearly from floor to ceiling. It was hard to ignore the breathtaking beauty behind them. The upstairs is decorated in the same utilitarian manner the downstairs is done in. A dark brown leather sectional frames the TV in the living area. There is a book shelf along the opposite wall from the windows filled with works of fiction. My aunt loves to read. Beyond that is a dining area and the kitchen separated by a bar height expanse of cabinets and countertop. In front of the living area is a very small sitting area with a sun deck off of it. The whole place is open concept living, no walls. Although the house has decks there is no furniture out there. There’s always a constant cold breeze rolling in from the Pacific that is especially aggressive at this altitude. Even in the summers the temperature rarely goes above seventy five.

It’s part of the appeal of Oregon beaches. They’re always significantly cooler so there are never as many people. The water never gets very high above freezing and the sky is almost constantly overcast. Even in the height of summer the beaches here never get as crowed as the beaches south of us in California. In my mind the serenity here only adds to the beauty of the place.

My mom and aunt are seated at the table across from each other. They both looked up when I walked in, concern written all over their features.

“Good morning, sweatie! How did you sleep?” My mom asked.

Jean got up and walked into the kitchen.

“I’ll make you some food, Mel,” she told me while she did so.

“Good,” I answered. The nights were quiet here, much quieter then Portland.

“Well it took me a little bit to get used to the ocean sounds,” my Mom laughed.

I sat down at the head of the table. Jean brought over a plate and a glass of water. On the plate are scrambled eggs that look way better than any of my attempts, some perfectly cooked bacon, and a biscuit. Jean is an amazing cook. Clearly those genes never made it to my Mom or I.

As I eat my Mom and Jean talk about her house and the tiny town below us. Rockaway Beach is a 7 mile stretch of beach along the Oregon coastline known for its’ rock formation just offshore. There are two massively sized rocks not far from the beach that sit side by side. On the left is one that looks like an oddly shaped horseshoe that someone turned upside down and plopped into the ocean. The one on the right is a slightly bigger solid mound of rock. Rockaway is one of those towns that come alive during the summers and holiday weekends, making most it’s money off the tourism. Jean is one of the very few who actually live here year round. The town is tiny with a population at fourteen hundred. Jean owns and runs a store down on the main street. In order to adapt to the loss of business that happens in the off seasons she started doing a lot of selling online as well. She does pretty well for herself.

“Well I have to be going,” my Mom says just as I’m cleaning off the last bits of food off my plate. I knew this part would be coming. It was all a part of our plan. The one we hastily threw together at two am after I decided enough was enough and told my unaware mother everything.

She turns toward me and folds her arms over on the table in front of us. She looks me in the eye when she says

“Mel I have to tie up some loose ends in Portland. Get a divorce, sell the house. I’m going to find us somewhere really nice to live and just as soon as I have everything set I’ll come back and get you, ok? We can start fresh, just you and me.” She doesn’t say but I know getting rid of Jim is somewhere on that list too.

 “You’ll have to start the first bit of senior year here, but they have a really good school here that I’m sure you’ll love,” she went on to say.

She stood up and came over to my chair to hug me. I hugged her back.

“I love you” she whispered in my ear.

I nod. I can feel tears welling in my eyes, but I won’t cry. I’m done crying.

“Jean, thank you so much,” she told my aunt after she let me go. “You have no idea how much this means to us.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Jean said as she got up to hug my Mom.

My Mom blew us both a kiss before leaving. The house suddenly felt a whole lot more empty without her.

“Well I guess it’s just us now” Jean said. She got up and took my plate and glass. “We’ll have to go into town to the store to get some food you’ll like. It’s just been me for so long so I only have the things I like. Then we can stop by the High School and get you registered,” she was saying over her shoulder.

I looked out of those huge windows down onto the ocean. The morning fog was burning off and even from all the way up here I could see the steady in and out of the waves.

----

The closest decently sized grocery store with more of a selection for food besides some loaves of bread, soda, and a random ice cream section is the Fred Meijer in Tillamook, twenty minutes south of Rockaway. We loaded up in Jean’s Tucson to take the journey.

The roads that go down the steep hill from where Jean’s house is to the town below make me nervous. They’re twisty, windy, and incredibly steep. We are, quite literally, perched on a cliff. We end up on the main street through town that can be seen from our house. There are a few shops down this main road, the pizza parlor, a convenience store, an outlandish gift shop painted bright green with plastic flamingos out front, and one gas station. Sprinkled throughout are some private homes. Most of these homes get rented out every summer and weekend to vacationers and some are lived in year round by the residents.  Add a pair of railroad tracks and a few hotels and you have Rockaway. Everything looks like it was built all at the same time as all the buildings are made out of the same materials. Most of them have that slated wood effect; the one that looks like a roof only it’s on the sides of buildings instead of the top. Even though she never points it out I can recognize Jean’s store we pass by it. “Seaside Jewels” it said in white letters about the door. The neon sign that says “open” was light up right below it. Jean glanced at the store as we passed by.

“I hired a girl your age to help me out. She’s a good kid, you may like her. I’ll introduce you guys later,” Jean said.

I raised my eyebrows. Normally Jean only has some of the retired ladies from town working in the store.

“How is business?” I asked her.

“It’s good, really good. We’ve been doing a lot of online orders lately, which is why I hired Sarah. She packs to orders and mails them for me. Sarah is the girl your age, by the way,” Jean told me.

I nodded.

The drive was quick. When we got to the store I didn’t really want to pick out anything. I didn’t want to make Jean feel like I was going to be a burden on her. I don’t need anything special, really. At her request and pushing I picked out some fruit, lunch meat, and various snacks. Jean also picked out a lot of baking and cooking ingredients that I would have no idea what to do with.

We went a slightly different way home with a detour to a medium sized plain gray building that looks newer then any of the other buildings.

“This is Jefferson High School, where you’ll be going,” she told me as she parked in front of the school.

“Come on, let’s go get you registered.”

This school is much, much smaller than the one I went to back home. I could tell even in the size of the building that not many students go here. You can hear the ocean from the school, though the view of it is obscured by evergreens.

“Just wait here” Jean motioned to a bench just inside the front doors that was to the left. The offices were to the right. I sat down. I could see Jean through the little window in the door talking to a lady behind the desk. Hopefully she wasn’t busy telling her my whole life story. There was a banner on the wall with what I guess is the school’s logo, a maroon J with a pirate standing next to it, his arm crossed.

“Welcome back, Pirates!” A banner underneath it read.

How charming.

The sound of a door opening and closing from around the corner pulled my attention away from the tacky poster.

“He’s just such a bad kid!” I craned my neck in the direction the talking was coming from, the same direction the door sounds came from.

“I don’t think he’s such a bad kid, he’s just a teenager. He thinks he knows best” another female voice said. Clearly this was not a conversation I wasn’t supposed to be hearing.

“Yes but did you hear how Mr. Madox’s truck went missing last weekend? Everyone is saying Ryan did it. The cops already took him in for questioning but they had no proof to charge him,” the first women’s voice said.

“That’s just speculation. We’re in a small town, people talk.” The ladies were moving down the hallway away from me, their voices fading into the distance.

“I don’t know. I think he’s bad news.”

They disappeared. I tried to hear more, but the ladies were gone. What was that about? Was Ryan a student here?

“Ready?” Jean was standing right in front of me, her eyebrows raised. Clearly she had been trying to get my attention.

“Oh, yea, sorry,” I told her as I got up to leave.

“They’re going to have everything ready for you on the first day of class on Monday. You just have to go into that office and tell them who you are. They’ll tell you where to go. School starts as 8:35. I can drop you off,” she was telling me.

We were back in her car, pulling away. I was still thinking about the conversation I overheard.

“Okay.” 

Introduction (The Blackest Years)

“Let’s go over the plan one more time, okay?”

I swallow. Nod.

“Okay” I say.

“You stay on the phone with me till you get in the car and lock the doors. I’ll do a count down from 5. At one start you hang up and start your timer for thirty minutes. When you see me coming start the car and open the door for me. If I don’t come out within thirty minutes, call the cops. Don’t try to find me. Just call the cops and wait in the car, okay? We’re going to be okay. We’ll make it through this Mel. I love you.”

My mom leaned in to hug me. I fit my chin in the hollow next to her neck and closed my eyes while wrapping my arms around her. She is so strong. She always has a plan. Why hadn’t I come to her sooner?

“I love you too, Mom.” I told her.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” she said after a beat.

“Go” she told me.

I turned around and climbed out my dormer window onto the roof of our house and out into the night air. I crossed the short span of space to the old oak whose strong branches came close enough for me to grab. I swung onto a branch and straddled it so I could shimmy back closer to the trunk of the tree. From there it was an easy climb down to the lowest branch. I took my backpack off and dropped it into the grass below me. Then I jumped. I reached down and took my phone out of the front most compartment of the backpack before swinging it onto my shoulders.

I looked up to my Mom who was still illuminated in my window, her hands on the sill. She reached down and pulled out her phone and dialed my number by heart. My phone buzzed in my hand. I hit talk.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“5…” She started to shut the window. I turned and ran for her Camry which was sitting parked on the road.

“4…” I hit the unlock button on her keyless entry.

“3…” I slid into the passenger seat and reached across to the drivers’ side to hit the lock button.

“2…” I looked up to my window. She was closing the curtains, her face disappearing from my view.

“1…” I hung up and set my timer on my phone for thirty minutes. Please god let me not have to call the cops.

The time passed by slowly. I busied myself by running my finger across the seams in my seat. Every once in a while I checked the house for signs of life. All the lights were on downstairs but the curtains were drawn closed. I couldn’t hear any yelling, but then again, the car windows were up. I checked the timer. It had been sixteen minutes. I ran my finger over the seams in the seat again. At twenty six minutes my mother finally appeared in the doorway. I couldn’t see my step-dad, she slammed it shut behind her and marched defiantly across the lawn. I started the car and reached across to throw open the door for her.

She slid into the drivers’ seat without a word and started driving. There was a crease between her eyebrows that wasn’t there before. She was frowning.

“He’s a fucking coward Mel. I promise you: you’ll never have to see that man ever again,” she glanced my way, that same hard expression in her eyes. I instantly believed her. In that moment I knew that my Mom was stronger than Him. He wouldn’t be hurting us anymore. Without a word I turned my attention out my window. It had started one of those slow drizzles the Pacific Northwest was so famous for. I watched the rain puddle and stream across the window. Behind it the city of Portland faded into the distance behind us. 

An Introduction

So a few months back I got an itch to write. Not necessarily anything specific, just... write. So I sat down at my computer and started typing. A story started to come out. This story does not have a title but we can call it "The Blackest Years" since that's the name of this blog. This story is not done yet. I'm 16, 694 words, 8 chapters, and 35 pages in. I'm going to start posting this story on this blog, chapter by chapter. If I get a positive response then I'll keep going. If not, then in all honestly, I'll probably just lose interest and stop. I guess I'm doing this more so as feedback.
Chapter 1 will be posted soon!