Wand

Chapter 1: The House from Ten Years Ago

“Welcome to St. Laurence.” Samantha heard the bus attendant’s declaration as she descended from the wheeled vehicle. The attendant smiled at her. “We hope you enjoyed traveling with us.”

Samantha Yeare smiled back at the attendant. Brisk and professional, the bus liners were really getting into smart business nowadays. St. Laurence was a small town located in the middle of Ohio and not listed in any tourist magazine whatsoever. The nearest airport was miles away, so land transportation was - unfortunately - necessary. In normal circumstances, someone would arrange a pick up from the airport, but Sam’s circumstances were far from normal.

Samantha hauled herself off the bus and stepped on the soft grassy ground. She took a deep breath and savored the smell of fresh air. She pulled out the handle of her wheeled traveling bag and started walking towards a nearby building, the wheels of her bag noisily trundling on the uneven ground. It was really heavy but the girl wasn’t concerned. What she was concerned about was the fact that her father might be late.

The wheels of her bag kept spinning until Samantha came to a halt under the shadows of a waiting shed. It was made of wood and looked a bit flimsy, like a slight eddy would blow it away. A line of wooden benches were there to sit on. The girl gingerly wiped a finger on the surface and scowled with disgust at the dirt. She quickly wiped it off with a handkerchief.

Thinking the better of it, Samantha decided to stay standing. Minutes later, she started to tap her foot – a sure sign that she was beginning to be irritated. The bus she had just ridden emitted a low rumble and with a wisp of smoke, rolled towards the north, heading for the next town. Excluding her, there were only three passengers that exited the vehicle and they immediately got inside the cars that were waiting for them, parked near the shed. It annoyed her to realize that no car whatsoever had waited for her. No, maybe not annoyed. Disappointed was more like it.

However, to her relief, a battered-looking police car sped through from the road the bus just trundled off. It was driven a bit erratically, like the driver was in a hurry. Soon, it parked near the shed – almost hitting another car’s bumper that was parked up in front – and a forty year old man with a shock of very untidy black hair wearing a grubby brown cop’s uniform burst forth from the vehicle. He scanned the shed and after finally meeting her gaze, stared at her in awe.

The man continued to gaze at her openmouthed. The girl sighed. So much for the “let him speak first” rule, she thought. With careful steps, she went to him and spoke in a low, not-so-sure-about-myself tone, “So… How have you been… Dad?”

Tony Yeare got a hold of himself and hugged his daughter. Samantha awkwardly returned his hug. “Ten years…” she heard him say. “It’s been ten years…”

“Yes, ten years…” repeated Samantha. Her father stopped the hug and looked at her more closely.

“You look remarkably like Sarah,” he told her.

“Thank you,” said Samantha somewhat uneasily. She knew it was a compliment but her mother, Sarah would have burned in fury to hear her hated ex-husband even speak her name.

“So, how are you?” asked Tony. “I heard you play soccer.” Then, he added proudly, “You got that talent from me. Remember we used to play outside when you were six?”

Samantha nodded. Her father continued. “The school you’ll be transferring here has a good soccer team,” he informed her, as he took his daughter’s bag and ushered her to the car. “The best in the town. The school may not be as grand as the one from the city, but I bet you’ll like it.”

Again, Samantha nodded, not really paying attention to what he was saying. She watched Tony open the back compartment of the police car, shove her bag inside, close it and then slip into the driver’s seat. Sam didn’t wait for another word. She opened the car’s door and slid inside, sitting beside him. She settled herself on a very uncomfortable, bumpy seat. Making herself as comfortable and avoiding the hard bumps as possible, she looked at Tony, who was gazing at her for a few seconds or so.

Samantha made a sound that was between an annoyed sigh and an awkward cough. It had the effect she wanted. As if someone slapped him, Tony jerked out of his daydream. With a gruff cough of his own, he turned the keys, the engine rumbled and the car moved.

The two sat in silence. After being separated in ten years, no one knew what to say. Samantha did not even know how to act. On her flight, she told herself to react normally in front of her father. But how should normal be? She knew what normal meant for her mother, but what about her father? She decided to use the rules she formulated on her way to this side of the country: Let him speak first. Don’t ask, only answer. Never show any overly emotion.

Unfortunately, Tony did not utter another word. But then, silence was something Sam enjoyed herself. She contentedly gazed out of the car’s window, at the green sights of the countryside of the town of St. Laurence. It was a breath-taking vista – untouched forests and pretty greenery. It was the middle of spring and everything looked vibrant. “I know you missed this place,” said Tony, noticing his daughter’s stares out from the windowpane.

Samantha smiled at him and all awkwardness and rules flushed out after hearing her father’s familiar voice. He was still the same old guy – untidy and unkempt, but cheerful and optimistic. He still had a broad physique and thankfully did not take the usual fatness that seemed to come with a cop’s job. He was still good-looking despite his age and maybe looked three or four years younger than what she would have imagined him to be. She heard him hum a happy tune, as he concentrated on the steering wheel. It did not need much concentration however, the roads were almost deserted.

“So umm…” Tony said nervously, after a short while. “Your mother – how is she?”

“She’s fine,” answered Samantha. “And…” She paused for a while. “She still um…” She did not how to say it. “Um… dislikes you…”

“Uh-huh,” said Tony, nodding. He then sighed. “If not for the fact that she was going to work overseas, I may not have the chance to see you again.”

“You’re probably right,” the daughter agreed. She looked at her father and then, breaking her second rule, she asked, “So, your new wife. She knows I’m coming over, right?”

“Of course,” declared Tony and Sam could see the hurt in his eyes. “I don’t lie anymore, Sam...”

“Just asking,” the girl quickly and guiltily replied.

Tony sighed and patted the girl’s head affectionately. “I know your mother doesn’t have a very good opinion of me, but I learned my lesson. You can ask Reece; she’ll tell you. Oh, and Timothy, too.”

“Reece…” said Samantha. “She’s the wife, right? And Timothy…”

“He’s your half-brother. But unlike you, he’s not into sports.” He sighed disapprovingly. “Prefers to spend his days reading books.”

“There’s nothing wrong with reading books.”

“Books that are meant for you, yes. But that boy’s still in middle school and he’s reading what – college textbooks, can you believe it?!”

Samantha was surprised; she had a genius brother. After living as the only child of her mother for sixteen years, it was going to take a little getting used to. But ever since her mother reluctantly announced that she was going to live with her father for a while, Samantha had expected some big changes – living in a different family for a start.

The car took a corner and Sarah saw the gates of a school campus. It was a little old, but the buildings looked sturdy and the site was wide, but not as wide as the schools in the city, though. The girl caught sight of a few students inside and recognized the female uniform. “Is this Arndell High School?”

Tony nodded cheerfully. “You guessed right, the best private school in town.” Samantha rolled her eyes – her mother had insisted on her going to private schools and she seemed undeterred to make it so, even though she was miles away from her now. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll be studying here.” He maneuvered the car onward while she still gazed outside. This was it – her new life was about to begin. 

“Welcome home, Sam,” greeted a slim woman of about thirty-three years old. She was wearing a simple white dress underneath a blue apron. She had shoulder-length black hair that was tied in a ponytail and bright brown eyes.

“Thank you, Reece,” said Samantha as her father raucously carried her bag upstairs.

“You must be tired, take a seat and I’ll get you some juice,” offered Reece Yeare kindly. Samantha nodded politely as she sat on the soft and comfortable sofa in the living room while her father’s wife entered the kitchen.

Samantha gazed lovingly at her surroundings. It was still the same house she had lived as a kid before. The wall’s paint and even some of the furniture were new, but it was still the same old Yeare residence. It was the same old two-story bungalow with a small garden outside and a forest at the back. The girl noticed that although most of the furniture and appliances were new, the arrangement was still the same. She remembered that her father insisted on what he called “lucky spot for the TV, lucky spot for the sofa” and so forth.

That was why, as Samantha stood up, she found herself looking at the long table at the west side of the house where the picture frames were usually kept. The table was still the same old brown mahogany one, but the pictures that stood there were now different. Instead of the pictures of her mother and the young Samantha, the frames now contained the faces of Tony’s new family.

“Oh.” Samantha heard Reece say and the girl turned to her. The woman was now bringing a glass of orange juice which she gave to the girl. She accepted the drink with a polite nod.

“The pictures,” Reece told her. “The pictures of you and your mother. It’s in your room upstairs.”

“I see,” said Samantha with a smile. The woman smiled back at her as the girl took a sip of the juice. It was tasty and her taste buds could tell that it wasn’t one of the commercial powdered ones.

“You have your father’s eyes,” observed Reece. Samantha nodded; her mystifying green eyes had come from her father, who also had the same, albeit more darker.

“Samantha,” Reece spoke on a mild and sweet voice. “I know this is an awkward set-up, but I hope we get along with each other.”

“Yes, I hope too,” replied Samantha. Just then, the two heard a ringing tune. Sam took her cellphone from one of her pockets, took one look at the caller ID and sighed. “Excuse me…”

“Oh, of course,” said Reece as the teenager stepped away and placed her glass on the small, round table in front of the television. The woman disappeared to the kitchen while Samantha sat back on the sofa and answered the phone.

“Sam!” came her mother Sarah Fellington’s – she changed back to her maiden name – relieved voice from the other line. “Are you fine, dear? Where are you now?”

“Hello, Mom,” said Samantha. “I’m at the house now.”

“Really? You’re father wasn’t late?” She sounded unconvinced.

Samantha bit her lip. For one second, she thought to lie, but then, what’s there to lie for? “He was for a few minutes. I didn’t wait long, though.”

“Hmph. He never changes.” Then, rather dejectedly, she said, “I’m sorry for putting you through this, Sam. You know I don’t have any siblings, and your grandparents aren’t well enough to take care of you on their own.”

“I know, it’s alright, Mom,” said Samantha, hearing the same thing for almost every day ever since her mother decided she had to deal with the last of her options – bringing her precious daughter back to her dreaded, good-for-nothing father.

“I don’t trust him one bit,” declared Sarah. “And neither do I trust that new wife of his. If they ever hurt you, call me and I’ll get the earliest flight and take you out of there.”

Here we go again, thought Samantha. Her mother was always like this – overprotective and untrusting. But the girl was used to it – she had been living with Sarah ever since she took her away from this very same house and pronounced to anybody who asked that her father was officially dead.

To Samantha’s relief, her mother cut the conversation short. “I have to go, dear. I’ll call you back after an hour, okay?”

“Okay, Mom. Bye!” Samantha pressed the cancel button and quickly placed her cellphone back inside her pocket.

As if on cue, Tony stepped out of the stairs. “Your mother?” he inquired.

Samantha nodded. Suddenly, her father looked tired as if all his energy was seeped away by an invisible force. “I hope she doesn’t call me,” he said. “I got headaches the last time we talked.”

The daughter chuckled. “It’s not like you don’t know her, Dad.”

“Yeah, I know her,” said Tony, as he sat beside her daughter. “I know her too well.” He then shook his head. “What’s she doin’ in Germany anyway?”

“It’s France, Dad, in Paris,” Samantha corrected her as she took another sip of the tasty orange juice Reece had prepared. “The modeling agency she works for has a new international branch. She’s the new manager there.”

Tony nodded. “She was always a career-oriented woman, I’m not surprised.”

Samantha felt she had to defend her mother. “She still has time for me, though.”

“You’re her precious daughter,” said Tony as he fixed his green eyes on her, not a spark of hostility towards her or even her mother. “You’re our precious daughter, Sam.”

“Thanks, Dad…” stammered Samantha, shaking. All the walls she had cleverly set up to keep her father away easily melted like heated butter. Somehow hearing Tony say those words peeled her open. There was no denying it: she had now realized how she had terribly missed her father. She threw her arms around him.

“Welcome back, my daughter…” muttered Tony as both father and daughter embraced each other.

That’s it, Sam thought. All three rules broken. 

That night had Samantha sitting around the round table of the dining room, together with the two adults. Tony chirped on and on about what he had heard about Samantha while Reece listened intently and commented once in a while on his proud ramblings. Samantha was embarrassed, but somehow, she enjoyed their company.

“You know, you were quite different in your pictures ten years ago, Sam,” commented Reece after one of her husband’s speeches. “You look quite… um, how do I say this…”

“Boyish?” Samantha supplied with a laugh. “Yes, I’m a bit of a tomboy back then.”

“She used to climb trees,” added Tony while he took a bite out of his pork chop that he skewered with a fork. “And pick fights with boys older than her.”

Reece looked surprised while Samantha gleefully nodded. “They didn’t stand a chance against me.”

Tony emitted a low chuckle. “You were really a troublemaker. I used to think God gave you the wrong gender.” He shook his head as he remembered some things. “I remember you’re terrible trio with those two other girls.”

“You mean Hannah and Kate,” replied Samantha as she sliced through the pork chop with a knife, unlike his father. “I wonder where they are now.”

“Well, somewhere out there, I suppose,” Tony told her. There was a suspicious glint in his eyes and Samantha saw Reece glance thoughtfully at her husband.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she told them.

“Nah, not at all,” denied her father. “In fact, there’s something you’re not telling us.” He smiled. “What happened to the tomboy Sam?”

“Well, live ten years with an ex-model as your mother and you’ll get the answer,” Samantha teasingly replied. Tony’s face fell. “I’m just kidding. I just, you know, grew up.”

“I bet there were no more trees to climb at New York,” Reece laughingly added.

“There are a few,” said Samantha. “But not as many here.” She paused for a while. “I have a feeling you like having a tomboy as a daughter instead.”

“I’m not complaining,” replied Tony. He sighed. “I guess we’ll be having lots of male visitors during your stay.”

“Not before I break all their bones.”

“Not before I break their bones.”

Laughter filled the dining room and as it echoed through the walls, they heard the front door open and someone strode inside. Samantha looked up saw a boy of maybe thirteen years old with unkempt hair that looked similarly to Tony’s and fair skin that resembled Reece’s. She immediately knew who the new arrival was.

“Welcome back, Tim,” greeted Reece and proving Samantha’s thoughts right.

Timothy Yeare nodded and started to go upstairs when Tony’s voice rang out. “Come here for a sec. You need to meet your sister.”

The boy stopped and stared at Samantha with beady black eyes. She smiled back at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Tim.”

“Nice to meet you,” murmured the boy. He continued up the stairs without a second glance.

Tony suppressed a sigh while Reece explained. “He’s quite shy. Please excuse him.”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” said Samantha.

Silence pierced through the house for a while. Reece broke it by standing up and saying, “So who wants some dessert?” Not waiting for a reply, she quickly went to the fridge and opened it up.

Tony grinned at Samantha, back to his usual self. “Reece makes the best chocolate cakes.”

Samantha smiled. If there was one thing she missed in this house, it was the freedom to eat anything she wanted without having to worry about diets. Her mother was quite the worrywart when it comes to daily food intakes. The knowledge that her mother was not here to scold and scowl will make dessert much tastier than usual.