"No One Else"
Well, I just thought I'd do a companion story to "None Too Soon", this time from Will's point of view. I just started wondering what he was thinking the night of the making, in Greenwitch. Enjoy!
Will felt the cold wind creep up on him, sweeping him along on his journey. He shuddered and bent his head down, trying to keep warm. He had been sitting in his room, comfortable and tired, when he had had a thought so jarring that it sent him running out of the house with no coat. He didn't know where he was going, or why, but his sense of urgency was startling to him.
He moved faster through the dying light. In the distance he could hear shrieks of laughter and feminine voices. Jane. The name stuck in his mind, and brought to focus her sad face. He knew he was seeing her as if she was standing right there, and he wondered why she was so sad, amidst the fun that was the Making. He felt a curious stir in his heart at the thought of her alone, for he could tell that she felt very, very lonely.
He needed to talk to her. Just hear her voice. As this thought struck home the uneasiness that had blanketed him lifted. That was what the urgency was...he needed to speak with Jane. The words didn't matter, he realized. He would make up something when he got there. It was the togetherness that mattered, tonight. He knew that he could only speak to her for a moment or two, but that seemed enough.
He pushed his way silently through the bushes and stepped out. Jane was standing at the edge of the cliff, her windbreaker pulled tight around her.
"Nice night for a Making."
The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. She jumped and spun around to face him, and the look she gave him was one of surprise, and a little irritation. His heart lurched and he willed it to stop. He was irritated now, too. He had forgotten why it had seemed so important to talk to her. The wind picked up and he felt a fierceness in it that wasn't there a moment before. It was almost time. He didn't have much longer. Think, Will! Say something!
But before he could say anything her voice had slashed out at him. "You shouldn't be here, Will. The Making is not for men." He felt his heart grow cold. He couldn't think. I never should have come...
"Will, I..."
"No." He cut her off. He hadn't thought she would be like this. He had only wanted to see her. He looked at her closely and tried to place himself in her mind. He could see that she was a little afraid of him. He looked down at the scraggly grass that coated the ground on the edge of the cliff. "You're right...the Making of the Greenwitch is not for the eyes of men." He thought quickly. "I just wanted to tell you that my aunt Fran wants to see you in the morning. She wants to hear all about this, I suppose." He knew his voice was growing softer, and he felt his strength leave him for a moment. He looked out to sea.
After a few moments he felt a change in the silence between them. He knew she was about to say something. He turned to her expectantly. "You won't go off somewhere and leave us, will you?" Her voice was so quiet that he thought he hadn't heard her correctly. As if you'd care....He thought petulantly. But he didn't voice his emotions. He just opened his mouth and said something that startled them both. "I'll never go far, Jane."
He couldn't think of anything else to say then, so he turned and walked briskly back down the hill. He didn't look back.
There was nothing left to do.
As he sat on the front porch that night he felt a strange lightness in his heart...as if something had been settled. Despite the cool words they had exchanged, he couldn't help but think that the feelings between them had been warm. He settled more deeply into the porch swing and smiled slightly.
It had been a good night.
Well, I just thought I'd do a companion story to "None Too Soon", this time from Will's point of view. I just started wondering what he was thinking the night of the making, in Greenwitch. Enjoy!
Will felt the cold wind creep up on him, sweeping him along on his journey. He shuddered and bent his head down, trying to keep warm. He had been sitting in his room, comfortable and tired, when he had had a thought so jarring that it sent him running out of the house with no coat. He didn't know where he was going, or why, but his sense of urgency was startling to him.
He moved faster through the dying light. In the distance he could hear shrieks of laughter and feminine voices. Jane. The name stuck in his mind, and brought to focus her sad face. He knew he was seeing her as if she was standing right there, and he wondered why she was so sad, amidst the fun that was the Making. He felt a curious stir in his heart at the thought of her alone, for he could tell that she felt very, very lonely.
He needed to talk to her. Just hear her voice. As this thought struck home the uneasiness that had blanketed him lifted. That was what the urgency was...he needed to speak with Jane. The words didn't matter, he realized. He would make up something when he got there. It was the togetherness that mattered, tonight. He knew that he could only speak to her for a moment or two, but that seemed enough.
He pushed his way silently through the bushes and stepped out. Jane was standing at the edge of the cliff, her windbreaker pulled tight around her.
"Nice night for a Making."
The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. She jumped and spun around to face him, and the look she gave him was one of surprise, and a little irritation. His heart lurched and he willed it to stop. He was irritated now, too. He had forgotten why it had seemed so important to talk to her. The wind picked up and he felt a fierceness in it that wasn't there a moment before. It was almost time. He didn't have much longer. Think, Will! Say something!
But before he could say anything her voice had slashed out at him. "You shouldn't be here, Will. The Making is not for men." He felt his heart grow cold. He couldn't think. I never should have come...
"Will, I..."
"No." He cut her off. He hadn't thought she would be like this. He had only wanted to see her. He looked at her closely and tried to place himself in her mind. He could see that she was a little afraid of him. He looked down at the scraggly grass that coated the ground on the edge of the cliff. "You're right...the Making of the Greenwitch is not for the eyes of men." He thought quickly. "I just wanted to tell you that my aunt Fran wants to see you in the morning. She wants to hear all about this, I suppose." He knew his voice was growing softer, and he felt his strength leave him for a moment. He looked out to sea.
After a few moments he felt a change in the silence between them. He knew she was about to say something. He turned to her expectantly. "You won't go off somewhere and leave us, will you?" Her voice was so quiet that he thought he hadn't heard her correctly. As if you'd care....He thought petulantly. But he didn't voice his emotions. He just opened his mouth and said something that startled them both. "I'll never go far, Jane."
He couldn't think of anything else to say then, so he turned and walked briskly back down the hill. He didn't look back.
There was nothing left to do.
As he sat on the front porch that night he felt a strange lightness in his heart...as if something had been settled. Despite the cool words they had exchanged, he couldn't help but think that the feelings between them had been warm. He settled more deeply into the porch swing and smiled slightly.
It had been a good night.