Felix Jones and the Celestial Lake

Chapter Four

If I thought I was crazy before; this felt much worse. I've read the books and seen the movies. And seeing ghosts was never a positive omen.

Slapping the front door closed, a rush of wind scuttled some spring leaves across the porch steps. The neighborhood was empty but, a couple houses down, the rumbling of Mr. Telmo's old lawn mower struggled to keep itself going.

Making way around the side of the house, our old hose was dried up and untangled: as if someone had shoved it out of the way from where it normally rests.

"Hello?" No reply came.

I was about to retreat back inside when the arrow almost hit me. It came forward from nowhere and a scathing hiss protruded from above. Atop the house was a cloaked figure notching another arrow into place. My body dropped, the solid ground meeting my lips. The arrow narrowly missed again— slamming into the wooden fence behind me.

Flipping onto my back, I'm chest out for the cloaked figure to approach me. Unless I wanted some sticks with pointy ends stuck in my heart: I needed to get away. Hopping onto my feet, I raced back to the front of the house.

"Felix? What is it?" My mother was still at the kitchen table.

"There's a guy outside! Where's my phone?"

"What?" She stands, peering through the window curtains for any signs of danger.

"There's a guy outside—arrows—yes!" I spot my backpack on the floor and lunge for it: unzipping as fast as I can. The sound of the wind picked up: there was no saying if they would be able to hear the cloaked man coming.

"I don't see anything," she said.

She began to move past me and to the front door.

"Mom! No!" I scrambled to stop her.

It was too late, before I could reach her: she was already pulling the front door open. She gave me a stern look, then stepped outside. "I'll handle this."

I left my phone. No way was I going to let my mother get herself killed. Racing after her, frail frame searching the front of the house, her shoulders shrugged slightly. All intentions to get her back inside, just as I got my hands around her shoulders, she shoves me back. Surprised at her strength, despite her sickly frame, I watched her dark eyes scanning the roof of the house and the yard like a wicked beast. "I don't see anyone, are you sure?"

"Positive. Should I get something? A kitchen knife?"

"No. That's okay," She paused before adding: "Thank you, hun. Go back inside. Don't say or do anything until I scope the area."

Shooing me off, I grabbed a couple kitchen knives and made my way to my bedroom on the second story-- so I could climb out the window. I was able to step onto the roof without a noise, clinging onto the knives in my hands like a vise. The tile wasn't so sturdy, but my feet were nimble and my knees bent. Climbing atop the highest part of the roof of our house, I peered around. I couldn't see much, but I heard my mother's voice from below. She seemed calm, like she were talking to the neighbors again. So, naturally, I dismissed it. At first.

When I began to look some more, not seeing anything resembling my attacker, my mothers words came in. I could hear what she as saying, though the words lacked meaning.

She said something like: "Grousteus, you need to leave."

"Meredith, still alive."

"Don't make me disbast you again. I won't be so kind this time around."

Balancing along the rounded roof tiles my mothers voice grew louder, as well as whoever she was having a discussion with. No one was on the roof but, when I looked over the edge and into our side-yard, where I had been just before, was my mother and the hooded figure. I would have intervened, had it not been my mother who had the bow and arrow slung toward the hooded figure-- Grousteus (or whatever his name was).

She pulled the arrow back onto the stolen bow. She'd somehow taken his weapon. "Leave, before I make you." The aura that I had seen around her earlier, the brown muddy shadow dancing around her was turning a deep shade of red, as if infected by some sort of disease.

Grousteus didn't move, his face still hidden in shadow. Perhaps he saw through my mother's threats, but my heart was starting to boil from the fear of losing my mother to this creep. How long had he been hanging around our home? Hours? Days, even? I wasn't sure why he would have wanted to kill me, or my mother, for that matter-- we weren't exactly the richest people on the block, but I guess we weren't the most poor either. We had enough to live comfortably considering my mother was a famous fashion icon in Korea. But other than that, nothing of ours was worth any value.

I was pulling one of my knives back to throw it at Grousteus; not to kill him... but to injure him so getting away would have made difficult.

"What are you doing?" It was neither Grousteus or my mother. Spinning around I see the armored man, with his hands on his hips.

"What?" I blink a couple times, making sure this time he was absolutely real. He was.

"What are you doing?" He repeats, taking the knife from me with a gloved hand. He admires the blade before gesturing for my other knife. Which I refused to give him.

"Your blood is mine, Meredith. Whether you like it or not, we'll be back." Grousteus disappeared. He vanished so quickly a ghost would have been jealous.

I turned back to the armored man, who was standing behind me like a disappointed father. "Felix. I know you mean well. But you cannot kill without reason. You don't want that blood on your hands."

"I'm sorry, who are you?" I stand from my crouching position, watching my mother walk off-- she hadn't noticed that me nor the armored man had been standing above her.

"Angelo Grime. You can call me Angel for short."

"Why are you following me?"

He seemed uncomfortable at that question, opening his mouth to speak but unable to answer. "I'm sorry, I guess you could say I was a friend of your parents when you were just a boy."

He's lying. But why? "You want our money."

"What? No!"

I push up to him, chest-to-chest; nose-to-nose. "Then get out of our way, before I call the cops." Rubbing past him, I start for my bedroom window again.

"Wait. I'm sorry. Felix, wait. Felix!"

I ignore him, hopping onto my bedroom floor. "Leave us alone!" I shut the window before Angel could follow me inside.

"I know how you got that scar on your chest!" He said.

I stop. How could he possibly know anything about me? Unless he'd been spying through our open window while we were changing? I suddenly felt sick.

Angel was crouching outside my window now, his blue eyes pleading for permission to enter. I may be male, but I know better than to let a guy in my room when he knows things about me only the swim class and my mother know about.

I point my knife at him, my heart was slamming against my chest. Yearning, more than anything, for him to hop off my roof before I had to do anything dangerous or stupid.

"It was the night of the largest storm of the year. You'd been lead up the trail by the park across the street by a little white light." His shoulders slumped down, eyes looking past me and into the far-off distance. "Grousteus had you in his arms... purple fire burning that star across your chest, he'd been about to drop you down the mountain just before I came to save you. Do you remember that?" He looks me in the eyes now. "Felix? I can tell you why Grousteus is after you and your mother, just let me in. I'm trying to help you."