Taken

Chapter Five--JEREMIAH

The fire crackled and little glowing embers floated towards the dark sky. The fire was turning blue at the edges so I knew it was getting hot and the wind was making me nervous with all the dry brush around.  We were surrounded by trees and the sun had gone down.     Looking over at the two girls wrapped in a blanket, I could tell that the little one—Haven—had opened up.  They were talking in low voices, so I couldn’t hear them. Haven was smiling now at something Denny had said.  Figures, I thought, she can make anyone smile. Even me, though I was being a crab at the moment and didn’t want to participate in the fun.

          I knew I was being immature, but I couldn’t help it.  Denny just got on my nerves sometimes, with her quick decisions.  I guessed that’s how we were different; she could make a decision quick and not regret it in the long run, but I had to think about it for a while.

          I knew in the back of my mind we would never have left Haven by herself to starve or freeze to death in that Godforsaken house, but at the same time, I was stressing myself out trying to find a meal for all three of us.  A squirrel wouldn’t cut it anymore, little Haven had an appetite she didn’t want to give up.  She was also picky, and we had to tell her it was chicken before she would eat it.

          I glanced over at the two just in time to see Denny point at me and whisper something to Haven before the both of them laughed.  I stood up angrily, I’d had enough. 

          “Jeremiah!” I heard Denny call.  “Don’t go, please! It was nothing, honestly!”

          I shook my head and stalked into the darkness. Before long, I could hear the crunch of her footsteps behind me.  I stopped.

          “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice seemingly small and childish.  “Don’t leave.  You know I get anxious now when you leave.”  

          “I’m just tired of that little munchkin ruining everything.” I whirled around and she looked at me with sad eyes.  “She has made things tense between us and you know it.” I had an inkling of guilt in my gut for yelling at her, but I tried to push it away.

          She collected herself and glared at me.  “Don’t blame this on her.”

          “And if I do?”

          “Then I hope you know you are acting younger than she is and that if you cared about anyone other than yourself you’d see that she needs us.  She is a great kid and if you would stop acting like such a fool then you would realize it.” And with that she turned and called over her shoulder, “And if you’re going to be mad and sulky all the time, for all I care you can stay gone until you are otherwise.  I can’t stand to be around you when you are like this.” She stalked back to the campfire.

          Her words stung, but I knew then that I had to just accept Haven. I could tell by the way Denny defended her that she meant a lot and I had to respect that.  So I took a few deep breaths and followed her back to the campfire.  “I’m sorry,” I told her, but she ignored me and laid Haven down for bed.

-

          The next day I woke up just as the sun was about to rise.  I hiked to the river we had crossed the day before and found a big flat boulder to perch on.  I watched the sun shoot all different colors across the sky and when it completely rose, I went to find breakfast.

          We had already run out of the food from mine and Denny’s houses, and there was no more that wasn’t spoiled at Haven’s.  My guess was that it had already been raided and the reason she was locked up in that room was so that she wouldn’t be found. Either that or someone had locked her in there.  I didn’t check whether the door locked from the inside or the outside.

          I spent about an hour trying to find breakfast.  Birdsong filled the trees as I rummaged, looking for berries or a nest.  I finally came upon two eggs, and I snatched them.

          By the time I got back, Denny had started up the fire again and Haven was still snoozing, wrapped in a lot of blankets.  Denny looked up at me when I approached and I wondered if she was still mad. 

          “What did you bring?” she asked. If she was, she didn’t show it now.

          “Eggs,” I replied, setting them down by her foot.

          “Nice,” she said, smiling. Then her face fell.  “Haven had a hard night.”       

          “Why?”

          “Nightmares.  Did you not hear her?”

          “I was tired.  I could have slept through a train.”

          “Oh.” She cracked the eggs into a pan and set it over the fire. “Scrambled or fried?”

          “Scrambled,” I said, and she nodded.

          There was a pause, before I sucked in a breath and added, “I really am sorry about last night.”

          “I forgive you,” she said and flashed me a quick smile.