His Story || Book 1

chapter two

Edited

Wybie's POV

I threw on my jacket and slipped my gloves on before walking to the door. Grandma was still asleep, so I might as well take the chance to ride my bike into the woods. I grabbed my goggles from the table by the door and put them over my head, adjusting it so I could see where I was going. 

I rolled my bike down from the side of the house and sat down, the sun nowhere to be found. Though the clouds covered the sky, the heat still lingered. I wiped the sweat from my head and placed my helmet on. I held onto the bars, placed my feet onto the pedals, and rode down the pathway to the woods.

The trees were as tall and old as ever; the leaves falling with every passing second. It gave me a wave of nostalgia; seeing this sight every year since I was young. 

I rode around a little while longer before seeing something in the far distance: It was a girl. She was a small kid with blue hair going down to her shoulders. She must’ve been much younger than me; ten at the very least.

I continued to watch her. I saw her walking down a path I knew. She had her eyes closed, which surprised me at how she didn’t trip over anything, and attempted to find something from water witching. That ‘something’ was probably the well, by the looks of it.

She stopped and yelled at a stray cat, one I’ve been taking care of here and there. “Don’t scare me like that!” She yelled. The girl closed her eyes again, held the twig up in the air, and spoke, “Magic dowser, magic dowser. Show me the well!” 

I thought, “why the hell not?” and decided to go scare her. A devious grin appeared under my helmet as I honked the horn I had on the bike. I rode towards her quickly, gliding through the grass.

“Get away from me!” She yelled, trying to protect herself with the twig. Just before she swung it at me I grabbed it from her hands and jumped, landing on a stump. I watched as the girl fell to the ground below me.

I lifted my mask and spoke as she brushed herself off. 
“It’s dangerous out in these woods, you know. Are you from Texas? Utah? It has to be Utah, right?” 

She stared at me with a confused expression as I changed the subject.  “I heard about water witching before, but it doesn’t really make any sense. I mean, it’s just an ordinary branch.” I gestured with the twig.

She kicked my ankle. “It’s a dowsing rod!” She yelled.
“Ow-Hey!” I dropped the twig, her grabbing it from below. “And I don’t like being stalked: not by psycho old men or their cats!”

I looked at the cat then back at her. “He’s not my cat. He’s kinda feral. You know, wild? I mean, yeah I feed him every night, but that’s besides the point. 

Anyways, I’m not that old! I’m sixteen! What’re you? Like, nine?”

“I’m eleven!” She sighed. “Look, I don’t care about your cat-” 
“Not my cat.”
“I said I don’t care. And if I am a water witch, where’s the well?”

I looked at her feet. "Jump a little and you'll find out first hand" 
She looked down and quickly moved off of it.

I walked over and bent down, ass to grass style, and started digging away the dirt until the old hard wood was visible. "See?"

I continued to look down, a question lingering in my mind. 

“Y’know, my grandma owns the Pink Palace. She refuses to rent it to people with kids, which kinda surprises me that she let you move in.” What I said was true. But the reason why…

“What do you mean?” 

I hesitated. I wasn’t supposed to talk about it, even though I had no idea why either. “It’s older people stuff,” I joked, “I’m Wybie. Wybie Lovat.” I held my hand out.

"Wybie?" She questioned. "Short for Wyborn. Not my idea but it stuck, I guess. What did you get saddled with?" I wasn't ashamed at the fact that my name was Wyborn, though it’s still a weird name for someone. I mean, my mom didn't want children, so I guess that’s why I got stuck with it.

“I wasn’t saddled with anything.” She said, folding her arms. “My name's Coraline.”
“Caroline what?” I asked.
“COraline. Coraline Jones.” 
“Not really unique, I know a lot of women named Caroline.” I teased. She was getting irritated that I kept mispronouncing her name. I’m gonna keep doing that.

Right as I was about to say something else, she spoke.

"I think I heard someone calling you, Wyborne." She smirked.

"What? I didn't hear anything." I moved away, but she moved closer...creepy kid.
 "Oh, I definitely heard someone.. why-were-you-born." 

I was hurt a little at that remark, especially since it was made by an eleven year-old. Then, we heard my grandma call for me. I guess she did call for me before.

"Grandma.." I chuckled uncomfortably. "Well, great to meet a water witch but...I'd wear gloves next time" 
"Why?"
 "‘Cause that dowsing rod of yours...it’s poison oak." She quickly dropped it and stared at her hand as I hopped onto my bike and left.

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I went through Grandma's trunk, taking random trinkets and tools out here and there. She called me all the way back home just to clean it out. How thoughtful…

Nonetheless, I kept going through it until I found a doll inside. Why was there a doll in here? Grandma never puts her yarn-made things in here. Most importantly…

“Why does it look like that Jones kid?” I whispered to myself. Maybe I should give it to her. I mean, it literally is her as a doll, so it’s only reasonable to, right?

I wrapped it up neatly and put a note on it. I went outside, put the doll in my jacket pocket, and rode over to the Pink Palace. 

Brring The door rang. A tall, middle-aged woman opened the door. Ignoring the tired look on her face, I gave her the gift. “Can you give this to Caroline, please?” She looked unimpressed but sighed. She took it, corrected me on the name, and closed the door in my face.

“I hope this was a good idea.” I muttered to myself.