"Where are we, Owen?" I demanded, "We got off the interstate a long time ago and I don't recognize a thing."
"We're in north Florida, babe. State Road 13 to be exact, south of Jacksonville about an hour," Owen explained patiently as he got out his smart phone and strolled absently about in the shade of the huge oak trees checking Google maps. "We've got about another hour to go, but I'll warn you, some of it's going to be on dirt roads so it may get a little bumpy."
"Where are we goin', Owen? I assume you've got some plan?" I asked as I worked my fingers through my hair trying to remove some of the knots.
"Well, we've gotta get to someone who can help us and those guys in the van aren't going to think of looking for us at my cousin's place. It's a shack out in the middle of a bunch of potato farms, along the St. Johns River.I know you don't know Zoey yet, Francie, but I know you two will hit it off. She's a little rough around the edges but if you can look beyond that, she's also one smart cracker."
"Francie?? You look like shit! Are you okay, babe? What's the matter?" Owen had shoved his smart phone back into his inside pocket of his leather jacket and was now bracing me by my shoulders. I admit, I did feel a little light headed but what the hell?? What's going on? I was still in a fog from that dream I'd had on the back of the bike. It's odd that I don't remember sleeping and how could I have been? Nobody sleeps while riding a motorcycle! And now we are headed to see the woman from my nightmare? NOT so fast!
"What the hell is going on, Owen? I'm losing my freaking mind! I just woke up from a really bad dream about her... and..."
"About Zoey?" Owen asked. "How could you have known anything about her? I don't think I ever mentioned her before and I know you ain't met her yet. Besides, when were you ever asleep? We just pulled in here."
"I don't know, I don't know!" I grabbed my head as if to trap what was left of my sanity inside. "I was either asleep or I was in a trance. All's I know is I don't remember a thing about the last three hours except for the rain hitting me in the face when we first got on the bike. After that, we saw Zoey in the bar and went to see her play and that weirdo was in the dressing room with the dragonfly and..."
"You're not making any sense, Francie, honey." Owen said cautiously, leading me back to the seat of the bike. "Cop a squat and take a breath. You're just not thinking straight. Maybe you were dreaming. Dreams'll mess you up like that sometimes."
"O, I'm freaking out here. Ever since that night we met up again, and then you led me to that van, and, and..."
"Shhhhh baby!" Owen wrapped his big arms around me, pressing me to his chest. "I know, I know. It was a mistake and I see that now. Believe me, I know. But I'm going to get you out of here. They're not going to find us, I promise."
"But who ARE they, O?" I demanded as I wiped back tears from my face. "Who the hell are they and what do they want?"
An exercise in intertwined minds, this blog is the creation of amateur writers who are taking turns writing chapters of an ongoing story. The idea is to read what comes before and then, when it's your turn, write what flows from your head. There is no rhyme or reason, and the story may never end, but it's about twisting the plot as it goes along. An exercise in visualization, character development, imagery and plot development.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Driven to Dragonflies ~ Chapter 3
My heart was pounding with fear as I looked into his eyes, searching for a clue to what would come next. I looked back over my shoulder to see Benny going into the walk-in freezer to get the burgers he'd soon be frying up for the next rush. He hadn't seen Owen come in.
I like to think of myself as an intuitive woman who can instantly get a sense of things around me. When you've grown up in an alcoholic, drug-dealing family, you learn to fend for yourself and grow eyes in the back of your head. All the better to sense impending danger.
Normally my intuition never fails me, but Owen had deceived me before. I trusted him with my heart and with no explanation he'd just dumped me. How could I have been so wrong about him?
I searched his eyes for a sign that this fear in my gut was misguided. What I saw there was the reflection of my own terror. I'd never seen this 220 pound Harley-riding biker afraid of anything in the three years we'd been together. That was all it took for me to make the split-second decision to flee. Not alone, but with him.
"Owen..." I started, but he pressed a finger to my lip and jerked his thumb toward the door. I looked around the diner with that surreal feeling you get when you know something is about to make a dramatic change in your life and everything hinges on your next action.
It was as if I was watching from outside of myself. I untied my apron and let it fall to the floor. The ticket pad, pen and straws scattered wildly about my feet. It seemed all in slow motion as we ran past the juke box and out the front door.
Benny was just turning to shut the freezer door when I caught my last glimpse of him through the grimy window of Angel's Diner. We ran through the pouring rain and jumped on the hog, riding without so much as a coat or a helmet. I shivered as the Georgia rain began pelting me hard.Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pressed the side of my face into his old leather jacket and watched as his long black curls thrashed wildly about me.
Then I squeezed my eyes shut tight and bit hard into my lower lip to hold back the wave of uncontrollable fear welling up inside me. I wanted to scream or to cry but that was the last thing I needed. What I had to do now was think. I didn't let it get to me when I was eleven and hiding in the closet when those men came and gunned down my dad right in front of my eyes. I knew then to stay quiet and it would save my life. What was going to save me now? Think. I had to think.
I like to think of myself as an intuitive woman who can instantly get a sense of things around me. When you've grown up in an alcoholic, drug-dealing family, you learn to fend for yourself and grow eyes in the back of your head. All the better to sense impending danger.
Normally my intuition never fails me, but Owen had deceived me before. I trusted him with my heart and with no explanation he'd just dumped me. How could I have been so wrong about him?
I searched his eyes for a sign that this fear in my gut was misguided. What I saw there was the reflection of my own terror. I'd never seen this 220 pound Harley-riding biker afraid of anything in the three years we'd been together. That was all it took for me to make the split-second decision to flee. Not alone, but with him.
"Owen..." I started, but he pressed a finger to my lip and jerked his thumb toward the door. I looked around the diner with that surreal feeling you get when you know something is about to make a dramatic change in your life and everything hinges on your next action.
It was as if I was watching from outside of myself. I untied my apron and let it fall to the floor. The ticket pad, pen and straws scattered wildly about my feet. It seemed all in slow motion as we ran past the juke box and out the front door.
Benny was just turning to shut the freezer door when I caught my last glimpse of him through the grimy window of Angel's Diner. We ran through the pouring rain and jumped on the hog, riding without so much as a coat or a helmet. I shivered as the Georgia rain began pelting me hard.Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pressed the side of my face into his old leather jacket and watched as his long black curls thrashed wildly about me.
Then I squeezed my eyes shut tight and bit hard into my lower lip to hold back the wave of uncontrollable fear welling up inside me. I wanted to scream or to cry but that was the last thing I needed. What I had to do now was think. I didn't let it get to me when I was eleven and hiding in the closet when those men came and gunned down my dad right in front of my eyes. I knew then to stay quiet and it would save my life. What was going to save me now? Think. I had to think.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Driven to Dragonflies ~ Chapter 1
The scab was finally coming off. It didn't hurt much any more. The greens and blues of the ink beneath my skin were swirling iridescent reminders of what had happened that night. How can something so beautiful resurrect such terror? Every time I looked at the inside of my left wrist I was going to be forced to remember it all over again.
Owen had no right to call me. Anyone that can dump a girl in a text message, (a TEXT MESSAGE!) can't just stroll back in and take up where he left off with no more of an explanation than "I made a mistake, Baby," So why can't I resist the warm breath of a whispered nothing that gently blows my hair like down feathers around my ear?
How I got from his arms to the back of that van being held down and branded with a dragonfly tattoo is something I go over and over again in my mind. I still can't believe it. But there's no time to try and make sense of it. They will be coming for me. I have to keep that insect covered. I have to keep it hidden and not take the chance of one of them recognizing me. They are everywhere and they all know the sign so keeping my secret and saving my life is not going to be an easy task.
Owen had no right to call me. Anyone that can dump a girl in a text message, (a TEXT MESSAGE!) can't just stroll back in and take up where he left off with no more of an explanation than "I made a mistake, Baby," So why can't I resist the warm breath of a whispered nothing that gently blows my hair like down feathers around my ear?
How I got from his arms to the back of that van being held down and branded with a dragonfly tattoo is something I go over and over again in my mind. I still can't believe it. But there's no time to try and make sense of it. They will be coming for me. I have to keep that insect covered. I have to keep it hidden and not take the chance of one of them recognizing me. They are everywhere and they all know the sign so keeping my secret and saving my life is not going to be an easy task.
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