Egg Island by Sara Flemington

Author:Sara Flemington [Sara, Flemington]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Coming of Age
ISBN: 9781459749375
Publisher: Dundurn Press
Published: 2022-06-14T00:00:00+00:00

XXIX

I rolled over in bed. The first hint of daylight weaselled through the curtains. I lifted my arm above my face. The pain was gone. The bruise was gone. Everything was as normal as could be, as if nothing had ever happened. That fox had never even existed. I curled my fingers in and out. Stretched my elbow. Punched the air. Then, from the bed above, I heard the soft turn of a page. I stood from my bed to find the saddest girl in the world upright and reading.

“Joo-­Ha,” I said.

“Morning,” she said, without looking up from her book.

“Did you sleep?” I asked her.

She nodded once. Her eyes were bright and dry.

“Look,” I said, and held my limb up in the air like it was a trophy. She looked at my face. Then my arm. Then turned back to her book.

“I know, right?” I said. “Like it was all a dream.”

· · ·

The mansion was still and quiet. No voices channelling spirits. No Ocean at the front desk. Upon opening the door to the veranda, however, I was met with the rhythmic screeching of the chair swing. Colt with his long legs, ringing in the new day.

“What are you doing up so early?” I said.

“I woke up. Can’t a guy wake up without it being some big deal?”

“It’s not,” I said. “I was only asking.”

“This doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

I set my backpack down at my feet.

“Colt, can I explain stuff to you?”

“Wait, Julia. Wait.”

He stopped rocking. Wiped his hands against his jeans.

“I’m going to do something now,” he said.

“Okay. What?”

He stood from the swing and stepped in front of me.

“Don’t be scared,” he said.

“Okay.”

Several moments passed where all he did was blink a lot.

“What is happening?” I said.

“This,” he said. Then some more nothing happened. Just blinking. Until finally he hunched forward, closed his eyes, and kissed me directly on the eyeball. He backed away very quickly after.

“Ow,” I said, covering my eye.

He knocked his fist against his forehead.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Did you just kiss my eye?”

“Yes,” he said.

Another moment passed. Then he lifted my miracle arm and dropped it.

“Hope this works,” he said.

“Hope what works?”

“We need to push the car to the gas station. It’s three blocks away.”

· · ·

I sat in the driver’s seat, right hand on the clutch, left hand on the steering wheel, while Colt pushed from behind, his grunting and bemoaning echoing off the empty road. Fresh bird droppings fell to the windshield, where old ones were already well-caked on. I looked up at the radiant light of the gas station sign ahead. As we crept closer, a stoplight above clicked to red. I leaned out the window. Colt was bent over, trying to catch his breath.

“We’re almost there,” I shouted. “You’re doing great!”

A thousand butter knives flung from his eyes. Then we both looked up as the light clicked to green.

“Three, two, one,” I screamed.

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