Curiouser (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 3) by Coryell Christina

Author:Coryell, Christina [Coryell, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-02-19T08:00:00+00:00

Jake doesn’t have much to say as he drives his pickup down a two-lane road southwest of Jackson. I can’t say that I blame him. My own mind is teeming with so many thoughts I can’t possibly corral them in order to make sense of them, so instead I focus on the plate of food wrapped in cellophane on my lap. Turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, green beans, my mom’s famous cranberry sauce.

It’s what my parents have done practically every holiday since I can remember. Taking Christmas to the less fortunate. This year they adopted Jake and acted like he was part of the family. Now they’re extending their kindness to his dad through me. I’m a broken, fragile vessel of a messenger, but I guess I’ll do in a pinch.

My brain is still trying to decipher the reason he wanted me to accompany him when he pulls into a driveway with dried weeds growing tall against a row of about ten mailboxes. Why is it that trailer parks always have aesthetically pleasing names that seem more fitting on lakeside cabin retreats? Sweet Pines. It sounds more like an RV park, or a convalescent home.

A bulldog on a chain barks as we pass the first trailer, the large window in the front covered with a patterned blanket. The pattern is largely indiscernible thanks to being obscured by a satellite dish sticking out of the ground like a yard ornament. The second residence has a brand new Chevy pickup sitting out front, and six concrete blocks forming the steps to the trailer. A boy of about six or seven sits on a bike next to the place, wearing a light jacket.

This is where Jake grew up.

The thought makes me picture Jake as that skinny boy, the weight of the world on his shoulders. It makes me just sad enough that I clear my throat to remove the traces of emotion.

The truck stops at trailer number three, an old black Toyota the only outside decoration marking the place. Otherwise there’s nothing distinctive about the trailer featuring white at the top and a light walnut brown on the bottom.

Jake doesn’t say anything as he quiets the engine, so I follow his lead, hiding behind the plate of food and preparing myself to be uncomfortable.

Why should I be afraid? I face high schoolers every day, and they haven’t eaten me alive yet.

The off-white door sports a swath of dirt or mud at the bottom, and I can picture it as the place where Jake’s dad taps his boots against the door before he walks inside. After a swift knock, Jake grabs the doorknob and twists, pulling the door open carefully. The way he peers into the trailer isn’t lost on me. He must get nervous every time he crosses the threshold.

“Hey,” he offers quietly, holding the door so I can climb up the wooden steps behind him. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

“Jacob.” He attempts to rise from his recliner, but doesn’t manage it on the first try.

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