Rosalie

Just a Dream

    I jolt up from bed to a pounding on my bedroom door.

    The sound of ma's stern voice for me to wake up gave me a sort of feeling of calm to know that it was only a dream.

    But it was real.

    "Coming ma!" I say as I lay back down in bed and cover my face with a pillow. The pillow is wet from sweating all night. Gross. I take a heavy sigh and will myself out of the comfort of my sheets to get ready for the day.

    Once I finish dressing, I pull back my tangled red hair and take a look in the mirror. I don't tend to study myself too much- probably because I'm already well aware of my look. From the uncontrolled curls, to the green eyes with freckles plastered all around the face, to the scrawny-like figure that I cover with Carhartt pants and a baggy white t-shirt that's tucked in. I guess this is as good as it will get. I look at my father's jacket that is hanging on my bedframe. It's the jacket that he was wearing the night of the attack. The night that he disappeared. I lightly graze the embroidery that my mother sewed to it; Charlie Darlene. I put it on and look in the mirror once more, then head down for breakfast.

    "Your plate is in the oven since you decided to sleep in again." Ma says without glancing up from the daily newspaper.

    "Thanks, ma." I open the oven to see an egg casserole dish with a piece already taken out of it. "Thomas left early." I say as I pull out the tray.

    She sighs, "Thomas has a side job this morning. Mareve's toilets kept clogging up at the saloon, and she doesn't have enough money to hire the company. So, she offered to pay Thomas in cash." Ma looks up at me as I'm stuffing my face with her always incredible cooking. She scoffs and reminds me that I have ten minutes until I have to open the shop.

    "I'm aware, thank you." I say as I set the plate down in the sink. "I open when I open."

    She raises her hands in surrender, saying something along the lines that she wishes for me to be- but I cut her off.

    "A little more motivated to pursue this career if I am serious about it, yes ma. I understand. I just haven't been sleeping well. I'll try to do better, okay?" I kiss her forehead, and before she can respond, I'm already out the door.

    Ma's been the strongest of us all since Papa has disappeared. Even after all of these years; from the start she did not hesitate to pick every piece that was broken off the ground and start new. She started a business of her own with house cleaning. She moved us into a small apartment at first when our house burned down, but now we live in a quaint home a few blocks away from our old house. She always put on her best for me and Thomas, even if she didn't feel that way. I remember a night when I was still young, I came downstairs to grab some water, I had a nightmare that made me sleepless. Ma was on the couch in our small apartment living room, clutching a picture of Papa, and her face was all red, puffy, and wet. That was the day I realized everything she does was for us. Not just the house and money, but the fact that she worked her hardest to make everything okay for us. I will never be more grateful for her in this life, even though I can be a brat at times.

                                                                                    -_-

    The town of Darlena is a quaint one. From the old fashioned, small-town vibe, to the warm welcome and greeting from anyone you pass by. Compared to anywhere else, it almost seems as if you've stepped back in time a hundred years when you enter. Cars and television sets are rare to find at any home. Light posts are old fashioned-looking lanterns with bulbs in them that use gas- the boxy kind you see only in towns from the thirties. The only power you see entering this town is a single large utility pole that follows others behind the bowl of a valley that we live in. I don't mind it, though I've never been anywhere other than here. I've seen photos and videos of other cities, and they look almost futuristic to me. I remember the first time Pa showed me a picture he took of this beautiful city that looked like it was created in the future. Tall buildings that you would have to put a hundred ladders together to reach the top, roads that had asphalt instead of dust, lights that were red. He told me they would turn yellow and green too. They're called traffic lights, to prevent cars from running into one another at four-way intersections. 'We need one of those here' I remember thinking.

    As I walk through my home town, Mareve is out on her bar's patio, prepping for the breakfast rush. I'm still baffled at how she does it all; breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and a bar. All on her own. Noticing her look up while I'm passing, and gives me a warming smile. She waves and says hello. I respond with the same smile, and tell her good morning, as I continue walking towards the shop.

    Mareve has always been like a second mother to me; watching over me when I was little while Papa or Ma were out, taking care of me and Thomas when Papa disappeared and Ma was overwhelmed, and making sure I never ran into trouble while I was on the streets. I still remember that day where she grabbed me the night Papa disappeared. Don't tell me I didn't warn you. The words rock around in my head to this day. It was almost as if she knew something... as if-

    I'm startled back to reality when a crowd of children bellow past me from an alley way. I stumble backwards, only to trip over a bench. Bracing for impact, I realize I don't hit the ground. Instead, there are hands under my arms, hoisting me back up. I turn to see Thomas with an entertained look on his face. He's grown into an incredible young man. Shaggy blonde hair that is never tamed, like mine, and striking blue eyes. With an always wicked smile stamped onto his face.

    "Come on Rose, you're so predictably clumsy, it's almost like I have to follow you around all day to make sure you don't kill yourself." Thomas says with a laugh. I push him lightly, smiling myself. Then, I hug him, and spin on my heel the other way. 

    "Yeah, whatever. Get back to work, Mareve isn't paying you to sit on your ass." I yell over my shoulder.

    "Says the one that's already late for opening!" He shouts back which makes us both laugh.

    I approach the shop. This is it, Charlie's Carpentry. Everything my father had built for most of his life, and now, it's mine. I remember when I was young, I had a strong fascination to everything Papa did in this shop. From framing fences, to building windows, to creating house panels. I remember my first hammer, I was six, and so excited to finally have one of my own, and I still use it to this day.

    I know I have nothing planned this morning when I start opening the shop, so I start doing my daily clean up on and around all the work benches and tables. I wonder if Jason will ever get around to upgrading all of the power tools here, I do know that he is busy though. Jason is a man that is 23 with dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. He's the son of Robert, who owns a manufacturing business down the road for just about anything that this town needs. How they get the supplies, I'm not quite sure, but if it helps our town, then it helps. 

    I'm too busy in my thoughts to hear the bell from the door, and am startled when a hand touches my shoulder. I jump back and put up my fists, then lower them realizing it's one of the townspeople. A middle aged woman to be precise.

    The woman's eyes widen, "I- I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." 

    I chuckle realizing my own stupidity towards the fear I had put in myself, "It's quite alright, I just didn't expect anyone this morning is all." I walk over to the front desk of the shop where different kinds of tools lay on a wall behind it, "What brings you in here today?"

    The woman looks down at her hands, and starts fidgeting with them, "Well, um. You see, I need help with my bedframe."

    I look at her with an amused expression, "Oh? What about it? Is it just a leg that had broken? Or is it the framing? Or the cross members?"

    "No I think that I need an entirely new one, if that's something that you can do." She looks away from her hands and blushes. 

    "Well, if you want to save some cash, I think I could take a look at it-"

    "NO!" She cuts me off, surprising me by her reaction. After she composes herself, she looks at me "Money is not an issue to me, and the frame is not repairable..." she trails off.

    I chuckle at her apprehension. Man, must've been one hell of a night for you. "Alright, well, if you could bring me the sizing of your mattress, and the kind of style you would like, I think I could have that done for you by the end of the week. Just to make sure, should I be considering making this one a little more...sturdy?" I look at her with a glint of amusement in my eyes which makes her turn even redder.

    "I think that might be best. I will have those measurements back to you within the hour." She quickly turns away and walks back out the door. Once the door is shut, I start bursting out laughing at the oddity I had just witnessed. Man, I think that just made my entire day. 

    Once I have composed myself, I get back to cleaning, and look at my schedule. I have a 2:00PM framing job for the mayor, her husband and children, that just purchased one of the properties that had been demolished in the attack that happened 10 years ago. That's going to take me weeks with the kind of house that they want built. I sigh, and decide to look over the blueprints of the house to review what materials I will need to bring today. Thank God Thomas helped me move all of the lumber last week down the road or I would have hell to pay today trying to do it myself. 

    I make my way to the back of the shop where my office is, and I notice a note lying on my desk. It's in handwriting I don't recognize, but that's not the main thought on my mind. How did this get here? I could've sworn I locked up yesterday. The note has my name on the front, which doesn't pinpoint a single person since everyone knows me in this town. I flip the piece of paper over, and my stomach drops to the floor when I read what's on it.

1585 SE 8th ST

Our old house address, the house that burned down, the ruins that haven't been touched since that day.

I look back at the desk and notice another item on it that was underneath the note. I drop it and stumble backwards when I realize what it is.

A picture, with burn marks on the corners, of me and Papa.