A/N I was amazingly lucky to have elusivetwilight fill the (late night) role of beta for this chapter, which makes me giddy because not only is she an absolute honey, but I also fangirl big-time over her writing. Thank you so much doll!
SM created these characters, except for the one Maurice Sendak created. I should be busy creating something else.
So, getting onto Eighteen…
Song: 'Fidelity' By Regina Specktor
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Where The Wild Things Are
I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost in the sounds…
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When I was eleven, my best friend was a russet coloured boy named Jacob.
He had golden brown skin, a black mop of thick hair and dark but welcoming eyes. When he put it on full display, Jacob's smile was somewhat cosmic and contagious, helped by the fact that it surrounded a mouth full of teeth so white they were almost blinding.
To me, Jake was the little boy in the wolf suit who liked to play where the wild things were in the woods. Except that he wasn't as naughty. He had a vivid imagination and the benefit of a vast canvas in which to explore it, within the property of the Res where he lived. He would run about, climb over and under anything he could, and tell dramatic tales of imaginary creatures, imaginary adventures, or his own take of his real life escapades. One of his favourite stories to tell me was one of packs of wolves protecting the Quileute lands, centred, of course, on him and his Siberian Husky named Taha Aki. The story was made all the more convincing by Jacob tossing an ancient fur of his dad's over himself, and by the fact that Taha really did look like a more beautiful version of a wolf. Especially his eyes; Taha's eyes, whilst loyal and loving, often made me nervous, because I got the sense they knew much more than we did.
Most of all Jake loved to build and fix things. His dad Billy had a rickety make-shift garage on the property sixty odd yards from their small red house. He was so at home in that little shed. Billy didn't seem to mind him tinkering about with most of the tools and even let him pull apart and attempt to put back together a few appliances and a big lawnmower which didn't work anymore. Jake told me that one day, when he was old enough, he wanted to fix up cars. He had his eye on his elder sister Rebecca's Volkswagen Rabbit, and thought that Billy's old Chevy would need a fair bit of help by then too.
On days that we were left together when Jacob was having a 'shed day', I would nestle myself against a wall or, on a fine day, outside in the grass and read books, scribble pictures or make daisy chains. Sometimes I would just lay and watch him and he would tell me his usual stories, or share a lesson in why he needed to take the screws out of the lawnmower case. Sometimes he would pretend I was his assistant and he'd get me to tinker away with him.
I really liked Jacob Black. He was my first really true friend, my best friend.
We had been spending time together since about four months after Renee left. Charlie and Jake's dad Billy were fishing buddies. I would play at Jake's house at La Push where Charlie felt I would be safe, while he got in some fishing at a local spot or out in a boat with some of the keen local men. There were always plenty of people around at La Push looking out for each other and us two kids, whether it be Jake's elder twin sisters, one of the older local boys like Sam Uley and his friends, or Sue Clearwater.
The best thing about Jacob and my days at La Push were the softening effect they had on time. Time had seemed to hit a lull after my mom moved to Phoenix. When she left, I didn't think she would move quite so far away - she hadn't been kidding when she said she wanted to find her sun. Where time is usually insignificant when you are a kid, I noticed it more. I spent a long time after she left clock-watching for her phone call to ring out through the house or hoping for the arrival of a package from her. Gradually, this would pass somewhat. Eventually things settled and she would come up to spend Christmas or my school breaks with me.
Despite getting to see her, the void she left and the gap I then needed to fill in our home was influential on the girl I was becoming. I saw my parents in a different light. They lost the shine of invincible light that a mom or dad had when looked at through the eyes of a five, six, seven or even eight year old. Even at eleven I was becoming more of a young adult. At least more of a young adult than I should have been. I started learning how to cook, with or without Charlie's help, and slowly but surely I was more independent and self sufficient than the other children my age. I didn't resent them for it. I didn't know any better, and really it came naturally with just Charlie and I. I think that by eleven Dad and Mom had become Charlie and Renee in my head.
Sometimes I would find days without Renee around tough. One evening I got dropped home by my friend Angela's mother. Watching kids from school with their moms' was usually what triggered my sad moments. When she pulled away from the kerb, the tell-tale signs of tears were brewing behind my eyes. I didn't want to go inside and have Charlie worry too much. So I wandered over to the path that led into the woods by my house, letting myself puddle down into the mossy ground. I just sat there and sobbed for a little bit, letting out some of the ache. The large crack of a branch nearby broke me out of my reverie, giving me a chill from the base of my spine up into my neck. At that, I got a little spooked and willed myself to get in out of the cold and dulling light. I entered through the front door of my house as quietly as I could, not having managed to completely cease the tears trickling down my pale face. I hadn't noticed the old red truck of Billy's out on the road, but I caught a glimpse of him on the couch as I passed the living room. My eyes caught Jacob's as I stumbled on the hall rug, foregoing much more than a mumbled "hello" and heading straight for the stairs.
Seeking solace in my room, I curled myself into the rocking chair in the corner where my mom used to rock me to sleep if I couldn't settle at night. I hadn't been there long when Jacob's baby face snuck around my door, took one look in my direction and then headed to my bed. He brought over the quilt that Renee had left folded for me on the end of my duvet before she left. Tucking it over me, he sat down on the floor next to the chair, reached up and took my hand rested on the chair's arm. We just sat there.
In moments of weakness on my part – where I was flailing in water that was just that bit too deep to be able to stand up and breathe without choking in mouthfuls – well, in those moments, Jacob was the rock upon which I stood to get my head above the chilly waves enough that I could be a little better off. I don't know how a young boy had the instincts to do that.
My mom should have stayed and met Jacob. Jacob could have been her sunshine too. He was mine.
Part of his empathetic nature probably came from his own experience of loss. Whilst my mom had moved away, Jacob didn't have a mom in the 'real' sense anymore. Sarah Black had died when he was very young in a car accident. He didn't talk about it at all, but I felt that he must have wondered what part of him was missing, even though his dad was doing such a good job in filling it. I think this only made Jacob all the more endearing. He carried his happiness with him like an aura, exuding his gravitational pull and giving off no sense that he felt any particular loss or weakness. Yet there were a lot of layers to Jacob which also meant that these sensitive elements transferred into a rabidly fierce loyalty. If someone crossed him, his family, or his friends, then the game was on for Jake. Although, he was still like any other young boy, which meant his caring and passion could get tossed around in circles amongst the tendency to act on a heated whim and think about it afterwards.
One afternoon we were mucking around about the woods framing his property. Jacob was trying to scare me with his stories of the wild things that lurked hidden around us again. This time it was vampires of all things, who chased all the deer and mountain lions on the Olympic Peninsula. I tried to tune him out a little when his imagination carried on from that point. As we jumped between the patches of light filtering through the trees above, I tripped and stumbled towards the rough ground. I was somewhat fumble-footed and Jake, having come to anticipate my little falls, managed to lessen the impact by grabbing me slightly.
"Gees, Bells, you spend more time with your bum on the ground than your feet!"
"Lucky I've got my personal cotton wool boy to help soften my landing," I quipped back.
He moved his hand to mine to help me up, giving me a tug and steadying me once I was back on two feet. I was always impressed that he didn't just tease me and act awkward around a girl, like all the other boys I knew at school. But that was just Jake's nature, as well as the nature of our solid friendship.
"Are you okay?" he queried.
"Yeah fine, thanks Jake, just a bit dirty."
He was looking at me with a contemplative, curious look I hadn't seen in his eyes before. Suddenly he moved his face closer to me and planted his lips on mine. His kiss was tender and squishy, if not a little inexperienced.
"You taste like strawberry chapstick," he grinned, when he removed his face a few inches.
"Jake I think all girls taste like strawberry chapstick. But don't do that again. It's weird."
The two of us were pretty no fuss at that age, so I wiped my lips just faintly, brushed off a bit of the ground remnants and wandered off to the garage.
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The oddest part of my life over this time was this strange sense I had. It actually permeated into what I called, for lack of a better alternative, my 'imaginary friend'. I knew I was too old for such things, so I kept it very quiet. The afternoon I had been crying on the path by the woods I had had a funny feeling. After that day, it didn't really go away. In my head, 'IF' was very complicated. I often felt like I might be being watched, or that something was looking out for me other than Charlie or Jacob. But this also developed into 'him' forming a bit of a persona in my head. It was like he talked to me in my dreams to create who 'he' was. As much as I had tried, I just couldn't shake him, so I had resigned just to let him be. I never felt threatened by the presence I sensed, so it became part of my everyday life that I was basically ignorant to after a while. I felt it strongest around my house and before and after school. It wasn't really ever there when I was at Jake's house, except for some of the times we played in the shadows at the beginning of the trees.
After at least a year, my imaginary friend left me and didn't come back. Five weeks later, I would leave too.
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