paradise | n.h

one

The wind cascaded down the side of our newly replaced roof as I lay awake buried under a bundle of blankets. It was late January, the best time for snow storms here in Crescent Bay. Considering the name of the town, you'd think it'd be relatively warm and full of beaches. Well, at least that's what I thought. It's quite amusing to look back on my reaction the day my parents informed our family we were moving to a 'quaint little town near the coast'. At first, I pictured small beach houses lined up in rows of five, each facing a different part of the ocean. Then my mind wondered to the imaginary convenient stores on every corner, owned by loving elderly couples who vacation on the southern side. See, that's what I had envisioned but once my mother took me to a winter wear shop, my ideas cracked like glass.

Apparently, I should've done my research, because as it turned out, Crescent Bay was in central Alaska. Growing up in the summer heat of South Carolina, I longed for the day Mother Nature decided she can't handle producing snow and changes the wind direction. Nothing pleases me more than the feeling of sand sinking between my toes while rushing into the untamable waves the sun shines over. I dreamed of tossing the volley ball over the net to my best friends in the light grass next to the legendary ice cream stand near the park. I could already hear the sound of my worn out converse slapping the excruciatingly hot pavement, controlling the wheels of my long board.

I knew it wasn't exactly possible for any of that to happen here but the memories of home swam back from time to time.

A soft barking brought me back to present, realizing it was almost eleven and I was still in bed.

"Annie!" My poor excuse of a brother called out for me. "You need to take Bruster out, he's dying in here!"

Slowly but surely, I unwound myself from the mountain of blankets and ventured to the V shaped window located in the corner of my room. The snow hadn't let down since early morning and looking out to the Hell like weather, it made it even harder for me to drag my feet across to the bathroom.

"What's got you so spun tight this lovely morning?"

"Not it the mood, Jace." I pushed past the 5'10" male to the cream painted bathroom door just as Bruster, the family dog, came bolting towards the entrance as well. His overly excited paws jumped up to my thighs, eyes screaming, 'pet me! pet me!' After giving his golden fur a soft pat, I reached for his chewed up rope and launched it down the hall.

"Go get it boy, I'll be out in a second."

The light tiles chilled my sock covered toes  as I washed my face and gave my teeth a quick brushing. Looking at my pale reflection in the spotless mirror I couldn't help but cringe. My skin was always tanned and eyes were bright- full of life. Since we moved, I'd lost any sign of sun kissed pores and my eyes looked hollow, almost lifeless. It's not like I'm depressed, it's just that the things required for my bubbly smile were now lacked.

Turning the knob, I stepped down the hardwood stairs stopping at the landing to retrieve Bruster's leash. He must've sensed this and trotted towards the back door just as I arrived.

"Don't be back too late, Anne.  Your dad and I need to stop at McKinley's before one." I silently nodded in my mom's direction, sliding the door to the left and prepared for the wind about to rush in. Bruster's leash swung back and forth, occasionally hitting my sweat pants as he guided me down the streets. We passed worn out mailboxes and cut through neighborhoods to avoid clusters of snow, making the walk seem shorter. Pulling headphones out of my jacket pocket, I filled my ears with pointless music. Due to the sound, I was unable to hear anything from the outside world. It only dawned on me when Bruster started pulling the opposite direction of the house ten meters away that another dog was outside twirling around in the freshly fallen snowflakes.

Dragging Bruster, I muttered a small "not today" to him. I guess he wasn't taking no for an answer because the next thing I knew he broke his collar off the leash and took off running.

"Bruster! Come back, boy!"

By the time I reached him, he and the other dog were busy playing with each other. I noticed an older woman sitting on the porch of the house, the owner most likely. She was in her winter coat with a wool blanket draped over her frail legs. In her hand was the classic novel Gone With the Wind but she wasn't paying much mind to it, laughing at the dogs silly behavior.

"Sorry," I spoke to her. "Bruster usually doesn't act like this." My cheeks flared up in embarrassment.

"Oh, not to worry Dear," The woman's voice was silky smooth, but worn at the same time. She let out a chuckle. "Dogs will be dogs, I suppose." I started to connect Bruster's collar back, but her voice stopped me.

"Why don't you come in for a cup of tea? It's wretched cold out," she proceeded to lift herself out of the old rocking chair, putting a bookmark in the book.

I considered her offer and smiled back kindly. "I would love to, but I have to get back. My parents are waiting for me."

A smile was returned. "I understand. But you have to promise me something," One pale finger was held up. "You must bring-" She paused to think of my dog's name. "-Bruster back to play with Wilco. He needs a buddy." At the sound of his name, Wilco slowly ascended the porch steps.

"Of course, ma'am. I'd be happy to."

Her hand raised again, making a nonsense motion. "Please, call me Meryl."

"Alright, Meryl," I tested out the name and gave her mine in return. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I'm counting on that cup of tea, Savanna. I want to get to know the new teenager of the neighborhood. " Meryl joked. I giggled softly in response and waved goodbye. Turning around to face the road, I faintly heard the screech of the screen door being shut. Making our way down the icy sidewalk, I shifted my head back to the two story house. Just as I did this, I curtain on the top floor rapidly closed. The figure behind it certainly wasn't Meryl because I noticed her shadow in the kitchen window and a wedding ring did not inhabit itself on her left hand, leaving me wondering who else lived there.