Quickening

pte

ning her head back against the seat. Her clothes were dry, but she still smelled vaguely tomato-y. The smell actua

door. "And a three day weekend." The thought perked her up somewhat

ass, " Cassie added still looking for

enes of public embarrassment for Cassie. "Not that I don't already do that myself."

impressed with her performance that she kept asking Cassie to join the track team. Cassie was likewise good with the discus and javelin throwing a

e, but occasionally. The problem was that she couldn't always tell who was going to trigger her strange sight because those people didn't have any outward signs of oddness. They l

t was stronger than others, but it was harder to hide her surprise and reactions than it was with the more obvious sights like tusks and scales. Those she could br

or shaking hands. The random bumping of strangers in a crowd, whether in school hallways or when out in public could be fairly easily ignored,

tches and occasionally just stepped out of the way to avoid touching others. It did not make her a valuable team player

outside, their house was always kept at a constant sixty degrees. It was the temperature that her parents' collection

self. She closed and locked the door and crossed the living room to open the

and expensive. In fact, the kitchen looked as though it dropped straight out of a high end show room. It made a great back drop for the cheese and charcuterie platters her parents put out during the cocktail parties they held when they were actually home. E

for her. The note let her know her parents were off skiing for the weekend and wouldn't be back until Tuesday or possibly Wednesday. As

both to memory. For a second she looked at the note and Cassie wished she was the sort of teenager who would throw a wild party in her parent's absence. She squinted her eye

e books, pull one off the shelf and settle herself in a corner somewhere. Carley probably wouldn't look up from her phone the entire time she was there and since she didn't actually have any sort of gaming system, she

ved out of old farm land and designed for people who wanted a rural-ish life without the inconvenient part of actually living in the country. Between each property, tr

was welcome whether invited or not. While she hadn't been terribly keen on the idea of throwing a party to begin with, that thought soured it completely

pparently all at Scott's house." She told herself as she shifted, looking to a map of ancient Mayan and Aztec ruins and settling on a replica of a nineteenth century map decorated with fanciful illustration

ome point she had a take home math test to complete. She then removed her marinara stained sweater, skirt and tights, setting them to the side as she slipped on faded jeans, an old t-shirt and one of the cardigans sh

winter coats hung on hangers and her heavy winter clothes were packed away in the drawers, lavender sachets she made when the plants were flowering in the herb garden tucked in betw

truth, Cassie couldn't really say herself, except that she didn't really want to see the baffled and possibly condescending look on either of her parents' faces should they actually come into her room and peruse her books, as unlikely as that scenario seemed. She doubted her moth

likely comment. "Why on earth would you want those?" she would no doubt

ts. One featuring a selection of sandwich creations was the source for most of her school lunches. A substantial selection of her coll

g her parents would never allow anything but perfection presented to their guests, Cassie practiced both her knife skills and culinary creations when no one else was around. By the time she reached a stage where she thought her creations would be passible, cooking had become a private thing, something she did

gical way a sticky dough could actually turn into bread in the oven. At some point she thought she

lay cases of Parisian bakeries, but at the moment she felt like getting her hands in some dough. Somehow k

By then I should be ready for cake, " she decided. Cassie pulled down the heavy tome of bread recipes from around the world, added an Italian cookbook and top

e was in considerably better spirits as she kneaded the dough for her sandwich bread. She made this particular style of l

s sauces. When the pages were stuck together she carefully eased them apart so nothing tore. Due to her earlier run in with Kelly's marinara filled tray, Cassie avoided the recipes featuring any tomato

rden bordered by fruit trees. At parties her parents and their friends talked about the benefits of organic vegetables, the evils of GMOs and the fabulousness of heirloom varie

about the various plants in the garden, Rita taught her how to use them not only in salads, but to make things like refrigerator pickles, apple butter and preserves.

mooth out. She set the pasta dough to the side to let it rest and pulled the book of small French cakes forward. She opened it to the bookmark she placed inside the weekend before and began to scan the next recipe.

few things. Most of her additions were baking related; small tins for cakes and muffins, pie weights, bread molds and a complete set of cake decorating gear from flat spatulas to icing bags and decorating tips. These she kept in t

oring. Gradually the dry ingredients were added to the wet and like magic a cake batter formed. She set the bowl to the side and put away the excess ingredients, wiping up a spill of flour. When the bread was finis

pause, one tap, another pause followed by three more taps. Cassie smiled recognizing her grandfather's signature

nough?" He asked, his custo

he routine of it.

used to move large objects like refrigerators. On it were placed three wooden

Instead of simply walking in, he turned around and slowly dr

s. Personally Cassie thought it looked like a slightly larger regular door where the surface featured an x rather than rather than the paneling on the rest of the house's interior doors, but was informed it was count

He took her television off of the stand, setting it out of the way. He then picked up the somewhat rickety stand she was using and placed it by the door. "This will be

d previously. The box seemed awfully heavy and she wondered if they were in fact boxes and not just decorative blocks of wood.

Cassie asked as he bent

ort the third box was placed on top of it. The stacked boxes were much taller than the plant stand and looked a little like a

shawl with the burn m

of green forming leaves and vines. She used to drape it over her head and pretend to be a gypsy fortune teller. An unfortunate incident with a candle burned a hole in one corner, but by then she was too old to play dress up anyway. She

rt was hidden in back and adjusted it so that the fringe nearly swept the floor. Satisfi

he told her not to let them know she could see 'them' and Cassie felt a shiver of fear ru

l voice, feeling like she was suddenly only h

that. Although not f

re hidin

around the world. The air even smelled different, more exotic than the air she was used to breathing, as though the goods he brought there carried the memory of the spices fr

asked, not quite sure whe

. She could see the shift of his eyes and knew he thought about it. He opened his mouth

udly in her chest. "

should have expected you'd f

anything out, but she kept her mouth shut

g as it is, no one must know that I was here. No one must know that I have ever been here." He looked at her har

the kitchen, "

d him. He set them on the tile of the kitchen floor and went back, towards her room as she went to pick up the note. She watched as he used his foot t

k the flint and held the resulting flame to the note, obliterating her mother's handwriting. He held the note over the sink and burned it until only fragments of charred paper remained. He washed

for now I need you to not call me, to stay away from both me and the

e we've met, you're mom's father. Why wouldn't we have met?" Cass

it is safe. Just promise you

tched as he exited the house, closing the door behind himself. A deep sense of foreboding filled her and Cassie raced to

was never parked in their driveway or in front of their house. He just sort of appeared as though dropped from the sky.

rkness. Finally, Cassie forced herself to close the door rather than run around

they think we

omatically, Cassie moved to the oven. She inserted a cake tester into each of the pans, noting they came

pasta dough. As her mind swirled with thoughts of who would be after her grandfather, the boxes or her for that matter, she rolle

y and what d

ts. Each one seemed absurd, but then what was right? The hooded figures wouldn't look out of place in her grandfather's shop, but she sup

ed her pasta. If they, whoever they were, wanted her then they would probably want her becaus

tusks, " she said shaking her head. "But no

rds who had horns like the pictures in her Three Billy Goats Gruff book, red eyes that were slitted like a snake's and thin tongue that tended to curl o

sie had to admit she was relieved when Mrs. Edwards was involved in a car accident. Although she created get well cards along with the rest of the class, she was pleased when Mrs. Edwards

er even though she knew he'd believe her. She merely added them to a journal she kept in a hidden drawer in her desk. The journal held short paragraphs about each sighting i

a bowl. "Good food deserves a proper setting, " her mother often said. Carolyn of course meant a three Michelin star restaurant; although it was also the directive she ga

to her bowl and then set a fork on the triangle. She poured herself a glass of her favorite mint tea, using one of the crystal wine glasses and set the glass next to

's hasty and dramatic departure, it seemed to loom around her like a hollow shell. S

ely? Did she add too much finishing oil to the dish? How did she feel about the herbs? The portion size? H

d like the dish. "I think I'd tone down the oregano and add a little mo

to keep it she could take it down to the used book store to make space available on her small shelf in the armoire for new books while still keeping the recipes she liked. Lately, she'd even been experimenting with her own recipes, making up

ter washing it, she would fold it and return it to the drawer. By this point her cakes were cool enough to work with. The small pans she worked with were only about four inches in diameter. She sliced each of the rounds in half s

e second layer of cake went on top and she repeated the process with the butter cream and filling. The third layer was added, complete with chocolate and raspberry and then she topped it with the fourth and final layer of cake. She smiled as the cake sat u

ng to use for piping. She added a touch of almond extract thinking it would go well with the chocolate and raspberry. Cassie then shifted the book she was working with into clear view and concentrated on replicating the delicate swirls and curlicues the author used in the example g

she finished, Cassie knew she lost all objectivity. To really see what she did, she would need to put the cake in the refrigerator and look at it in the m

e then gathered her books and moved to her bedroom. All but the Italian cookbook went back into the armoire. She would decide tomorrow if the cake recipe would go into her permanent file as she thought of her notebook. She took her notebo

. "He said not to tell anyone about them, " she told herself. "He didn't say I couldn't look inside." She looked at them a few minutes m

ried to lift the top box and realized it was really heavy. There were no hand holds and the sides were polished wood she couldn't get a grip on. In addition, the st

ands above the line that looked as though it was the divide between the box and its lid and tried to push up. Nothing happened. Cassie

pointed end into the line that should be the separation of the lid from the box. The triangular point of the nail file only went in a little ways before it wa

s of wood and who would actually want them if they were. She returned her nail

g more she could do, Cassie made sure the boxes were lined up, put the shawl back over them, adjusting it as her grandfather did, and placed her televisio