Somnambulism (Jared Cameron)

//three//

   I pull the key out of my ignition as I stifle my yawn: my first day on the job training. Well, night. My first day training on the job; and I loved it. I had spent the last twelve hours shadowing a seasoned nursed named Jennifer. She was kind, and the night had gone by fast between our patients on the med surge floor, just five more training shifts and I would be on my own.

Summer had brought with it the beginning of many various hunting seasons; so hunting injuries and infections from bug/snake bites were common around here, my patients mostly consisted of that crowd; and were pretty easy going. Middle-aged, simple minded La Push men were easy to take care of. Thank the Lord.

I gather my backpack from the passenger side of my sedan, and take a moment to savor the cool air that hits my tanned skin as I slam the car door shut. La Push wasn't too spectacular, but the peacefulness of it's dawn always made me feel reflective.

"Grace, how was your first day?" My dad's husky rasp greets me as I open the front door of my cottage, I jump a bit; totally expecting to be the only one awake in the Black household. But low and behold, my Papa was wheeled into the living room, next to our old green couch, the paper spread across his lap.

"It was steady, I think I'm going to like it there!" I cheer through a yawn as my father takes a cautious sip of the steaming coffee he was holding in his hand.

"Of course you are, honey," My dad smiles, "You're my superstar," He says in that proud way that father's have perfected. I was my fathers only daughter, he loved his bond with Jacob but totally saw me as the baby, even though I was the oldest.

"Dad," I scold, suddenly worried. My father had never slept the morning away my entire childhood, but to be awake and reading the paper at 7:15 was early, even for him. "You didn't stay up all night for me, did you?"

"No," He reassures me, "Just waking up. I'm thinking our new routine is I'll wake up at 7?"

I feel a sense of shame that my father was having to alter his entire daily routine for me, I was supposed to be the one taking care of him. But, it was appreciated. I hadn't had a major sleepwalking epidemic in over a year, but I was still afraid to sleep in a house alone. My sleepwalking had become my biggest anxiety-producer. As immature and lazy that my father and Jacob could be, I appreciated how they handled it.

I didn't do much at night beyond sleep-talking, the occasional sitting up, and rolling around lately. It had been awhile since I had gotten out of bed or managed to escape my room. That only really happened when I was stressed, or something was weighing on my mind. In the rare occasion that I was struggling in class or finals week, Lizzie or Jake had always walked me gently back to bed.

I took all the precautions I could; meditation to clear my mind before falling asleep, living a nocturnal life.

I smile at my father, "Thank you, dad." I kiss him on the forehead, grateful. When I first started sleepwalking as a young girl, my mother had always had a way of gently handling it, even helping me with at-home Quileute methods of handling it all. My mother and her best friend, Sue Clearwater, were gifted when it came to knowing which herbal teas and which plants helped with what.

After my mothers passing, my sleepwalking seemed to hit a boil for the few months after. Rather than just stumbling around my room, I had been found around the house or the backyard a few times. It was then that my father's diabetes started getting more serious. As much as I fought with Jacob, he had really stepped up as a doting brother to be sure I was always safe, guarding me.

I make my way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water before my planned hibernation, and am surprised at our old phone attached to the wall ringing. Who the heck is calling this early on a Saturday?

"I got it," I mutter, before picking up the receiver, "Hello?"

"Jacob?" A frantic voice, of a girl around my age is on the other end.

"Nope." I pop the P, "Who is this?"

"Who is this?" The voice asks back, a bit of an attitude in it.

"Um... Grace Black. I live here." Officially annoyed. Who was this chick and why was she calling so damn early?

"Oh." There seems to be relief in her voice, "Is Jake there?"

"Pretty sure he's sleeping... along with most of La Push right now." I snort.

"Right. Well, can you have him call? And tell him it's urgent?"

"Sure," I agree half-halfheartedly, only to realize she hung up before I could get her name. Oops, not that I cared. I didn't want Jake hanging around with girls like this; not because I was worried, but because I didn't want her hanging around the house when I was home. She seemed like a real piece of work.

Yawning, "Probably gonna hit the hay," I stretch a bit, and freeze when I look out the kitchen window. Through the morning fog, sure enough, Jake and his friends were sitting around the bon fire in our backyard. This early in the morning? How weird. Wonder if they were drinking.

I open the sliding door of the porch and step back out into the cool morning air, I debate for a second walking the twenty feet out to the bon fire, but my tiredness has me feeling lazy.

"Jake!" I call out, and all six of the teen boys shoot their heads in my direction in alarm. Did I say teenagers? Some of them looked about my age, maybe even older. My brother better not be hanging with the wrong crowd.

"Hi!" Quil, Jake's nerdy friend from early stands up at the sight of me, "How was your first day of work?"

"Over," I call back, stifling a yawn, "I'm ready to hibernate."

Quil giggles like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. Oh, boys.

"Will you join us?" He calls back.

"At seven in the morning?" I question, chuckling a bit, looking around at the various figures. There was about six of them, most of them deadly silent (or probably deadly tired if they stayed up all night), just watching the fire and listening to our exchange.

"It's too late for her," Jacob firmly answers for me, shooting Quil a dangerous look. Clearly someone was bothered that their friend was taking an interest in me.

"I'd say it's early, not late." I quip back.

"Shut up," Jacob calls to me.

"Well, thanks for the invite," I retort back, then gesture to my blue scrubs, "But I'm not dressed for a party, anyway."

"I think you look beautiful," Quil responds quickly, then clears his throat, "Beautifully dressed for a fire, I mean."

"Enough Quil." A stern voice parents the kid: Sam Uley, who commands Quil in a way that immediately has him tucking tail. A few of the boys snicker as Jacob smacks Quil's arm in annoyance.

"Anyway," I trail off, feeling entirely too uncomfortable. "Some chick called for you, Jake. Didn't get her name."

"Bella," Embry, one of Jacob's friends taunts.

"Could be." I shrug, "She said it was urgent, sounds like you haven't been answering her calls."

"That's Bella," Jacob grumbles, kicking the stones by the fire as the rest of his friends taunt him and whoop over this mysterious moody girl that seemed to have my brothers panties in a twist.

"Right. Well, night." I turn around and shut the patio door firmly behind me.

"Night, dad." I call out as I shut the door to my room and collapse into my loving bed. Here's for a quiet night....