On a beach littered with shells, two twelve-year-old girls hunted the crabs that scurried beneath the barnacle-covered rocks at the girls’ approach.
One of the girls pounced a crab, only to have her purple glasses fall off her face. She giggled, then yelped as the other girl tackled her in an attempt to grab a running crab.
“Reggie!” the girl cried out, scrambling in the sand for her lost glasses, soon finding them and cleaning them with a frown.
Reggie snatched the crab and held it triumphantly, messy braids dyed a faded blue swinging wildly about her face. “Success,” she said, grinning.
The other girl rolled her eyes and dusted off her gray tank top. “Thanks for that,” she grumbled.
“Don’t look so sour,” Reggie said, releasing the crab. “I got it, didn’t you see?”
The other girl’s frown broke into a mischevious smile. She pointed to a crab. “Whoever loses buys lunch.”
Reggie waited only for the other girl to stand before taking off, kicking up sand and tripping as she went. As the other girl caught up and pulled ahead, Reggie sucked in a breath and exhaled with all the force she had. The air shimmered in front of her, then snaked down onto the ground ahead of the other girl, steaming the wet sand.
“Hot!” the other girl yelped, her run turning into hops. “That’s cheating!”
“It’s winning!” Reggie shouted back, pulling ahead. Her gaze was locked on the prize, which was scuttling toward a crack in the boulders.
Between one blink and the next, a log appeared in front of her. It was an illusion, and she knew that, but she still swerved to avoid it. The other girl laughed as she ran straight through it and toward the crab.
Reggie focused on the crab and sent heat into the sand around it, feeling her own body temperature drop.
The crab sped up, running away from the hot spot. Just as the other girl reached out to grab it, it went between the rocks and out of sight.
The two girls stumbled and stopped, breathing hard.
Reggie wiped cold sweat from her forehead. “Well, I’m not buying lunch,” she said with a grin.
“Neither am I,” the other girl said, and stumbled to the water’s edge. Reggie followed, and collaped just out of the water’s reach.
The other girl stared up into the sky, her glasses reflecting the light. “What do you want to see?” she asked, her ponytail halfway soaked.
Reggie heaved a breath and laid down on the sand. “A rainbow sky, and ships sailing across it, like in Peter Pan.”
The other girl grinned, and sang, “A raaaaaaainbow skyyyyyy, an upside-down seaaaaa with ships saaaaaailing acrosssssss.”
Reggie shivered. The other girl never failed to put a chill into Reggie when she sang. Her voice was sweet and mystical and like the sound of wind singing over the strings of a harp. There was something magical, something a bit fae about the way she sang, and it was as if the entire world stopped moving just to hear her sing.
Above them, they sky rippled, turning from pearly blue to repeating swaths of the rainbow. At the end of the ocean and rapidly coming closer was a pirate ship, sailing on the underside of the sky as if it were a sea. Flags rippled and whipped in an imaginary wind, and imaginary people ran about their imaginary boat on the imaginary rainbow sky.
Imaginary or not, it felt real, and it took Reggie’s breath away.
The other girl tilted her head. “I think I forgot what Mrs. Herring gave us for homework,” she said.
“You forgot before you made the enchantment,” Reggie said, never once looking away from the spell.
“No, I think that’s what I forgot.”
And the two girls stared up at the rainbow sky, the most at peace they would feel for many years to come.
Eleven years later.
Reggie sat in a chair that hurt her sore muscles. She had cuffs around her wrists and an old-fashioned phone in one hand. A counter and glass separated her from the woman across from her. The woman across from her had her dark hair cut short, just barely long enough for the ponytail she’d put it in. Her glasses were no longer purple, but black, and her face had lost all the peace and joy of the twelve-year-old girl Reggie remembered.
Reggie knew she’d lost that same peace, but she maintained a cheerful, careless smile as she lifted the phone to her ear. “So good of you to visit, Eyana.”
Eyana gave her a hard, flat stare through the glass. “You stole something from me,” she said. “Where is it?”
Reggie rested her elbows on the countertop, which hurt the bruises on her elbows, but she didn’t want Eyana to see that. “I didn’t sell it.”
“Then where is it?”
Reggie hesitated, shame and guilt warring with each other until guilt won. “Somebody stole it from me a while back.”
Eyana set down the phone, skin draining of blood. Her stare was blank and horrified. It took a few seconds for her to pick up the phone again. “When?” she whispered. “Who?”
“It was about a month ago, so if you’ve been found, they aren’t going to her about it.”
“Who stole it?”
Reggie swallowed. “I’m so sorry …”
Eyana’s eyes narrowed. “Reggie, who stole it?”
Reggie clenched the phone. “The Raven Handler.” She closed her eyes.
The clatter of a dropped phone made her open her eyes again. Eyana had stood. She was breathing fast. Her hands twitched. Without another word, she spun and almost ran from the room.
Reggie sighed, and wished she had never found Eyana’s hiding place. She wished she could go back to the days of rainbow skies and pirate ships; go back to when everything was simple and okay.
Three-Shot Stories 