A/N: I just managed to get this in on time... yes! Welcome to chapter two, and I believe that you are going to enjoy this series as this chapter (I hope) proves. As of now, I am legally able to vote, gamble, and buy stuff from TV telecommercials! Thanks to all of you who wished me a happy b-day ::shy grin:: How about his new chaptering system, 'eh? Do you like it? It's OK... a neat feature. So now, READ and REVIEW like the nice people you are. Please review this chapter... I want to know if I'm showing signs of dragging, or if this is a perfect addition to a story that I hope will outdue the last one!
DISCLAIMER: We the readers of Harry Potter fanfiction establish the fact that I am not J.K. but Orca who DID come up with Timothy and anything that J.K. didn't.
Chapter Two: The Woods
The following morning, Timothy woke up to find both of his parents and Kalina already packing for the trip. His mother looked up from the bag she was stuffing with various hygiene products and opened her mouth to speak before Timothy held up a single hand.
"I'll get my stuff." He yawned.
Her eyes were held in momentary surprise until she heard Kalina snicker behind her back. After which she just shook her head and looked back at Kalina with a mock frown.
When they were all packed and ready to go, Timothy and his family gathered in front of the fire.
"Everything locked up?" His mother asked.
"Yep." Answered his father.
"Got everything?"
"Uh-huh." Timothy yawned.
"Renee, did you clear everything with customs over there?" his father asked, throwing a shoulder bag over his shoulder.
"Of course," She said, throwing an extra helping of Floo Powder into the fireplace. "They wouldn't have linked our fireplace without the notice."
"Ok then, let's go." Timothy's father moved to step inside before Timothy's mother stopped him.
"Wait, did you put on sunscreen? Did all three of you? The last time we went you all came back as red as lobsters."
"Yes." Came three voices in union.
"Ok, let's go."
"HOLD IT!"
With a unanimous sigh, Timothy and his family turned to face Jeff, who looked extremely ruffled.
"I can't believe how all of you abandon me at the blink of an eye! I'll be all alone here!" Smoke jetted from his nose.
Timothy's mother put her hands on her hips, looking down at Jeff in exasperation.
"Jeff, the last time we took you to Florida you ate a seagull and got sick all over my mother's white carpet."
"Let's not forget the fact that you can't swim." His father added.
"Hey, that seagull ate something spicy before I ate him! It wasn't my fault… plus, who in their right mind would have white carpeting? Jeff argued.
To appease his yellow friend, Timothy shifted the bag he was holding containing parchment and quills to write home with and scratched Jeff behind the ears.
"Not fair…" Jeff sighed contently, falling to the floor in a heap while his tail twitched in pleasure.
"I'll bring you back a coconut." Timothy laughed, following his mother and sister who had already gone through the fireplace. His father winked at him as he stepped into the green flames.
"Springs residence!" He said clearly, and the world blurred before him, whisking him away from his country and into a different one. If it weren't for his mother waiting with her arms out to catch him, Timothy would have fell flat on his face. It took longer than normal because of the distance to get through the network and he was dizzy.
"Oh, there he is!" Squealed an old and pleasant voice.
When Timothy's head stopped spinning, held safely in his mother's arms, he noticed where he was. Kalina was already tight in the grasp of his grandmother, showered with kisses and constant coos. Now she was eyeing him, but his grandfather made it to him first.
"This can't be my grandson! This guy here is too big." His grandfather was very strong and large, making no effort to pry Timothy from his mother and persist to ruffle his hair. However, it was far from the gentle tossing his father and uncles did. His grandfather's strength nearly knocked Timothy to his knees, all while trying desperately to smile, although with gritted teeth.
"Hello… Granddad." Timothy managed to say.
"Dad, careful… you'll make him bald." His mother, to his relief, pulled him away. His father finally arrived, looking disheveled but pleased to be away.
"Hello everyone." He called out. Timothy scuttled to stand next to him so that his grandmother wouldn't catch him, but it was futile. His grandmother grabbed his arm while his father giggled silently. Timothy glowered at him while his cheeks were being pinched.
"Oh look how big you've gotten! Renee, you've got to come more often! I can't even recognize my little boy! Well, he's not so little anymore now is he? Isn't that right? My how handsome you are, just like your father. But your mother's eyes you still have, yes! Oh, I could just eat you up!"
Timothy's cheeks flamed while everyone began to giggle, Kalina who was perched atop their grandfather's shoulders, giggled the loudest.
"Mom… umm, yeah, just…there ya go." His mother pried him from his grandmother's fingers and held him close. Timothy sighed with relief, hiding his face in her robes until his face returned to its normal color.
Once the family shock wore off, Timothy found his grandparent's to be very intelligent and efficient. The last time Timothy and his family had visited was when Kalina was a baby; he was 8 years old. Now that he was older, he found his grandparents to be very interesting as they told stories about the various places on earth that they had been to. After dinner, they all sat in the living room next to an old grandfather clock much like the one his parents had at home, and listened to stories about South America and Africa.
"Do not play cards with a Voodoo witchdoctor," his grandfather explained. "I won't even begin on the types of things we betted on."
"The bush people in Africa use a more primitive type of magic. They don't use specially made wands, like we do. Instead, they find your average large stick or branch and use the local ley-lines to channel the magic through it." His grandmother told over a mug of coffee.
"What are ley-lines?" Timothy asked.
"Ley-lines are natural rivers of magical energy that flow unseen all over the earth like an intricate spider web. Wizards and witches of long ago used them to perform powerful magic. That was before magic became one with our blood, for now we don't necessarily need ley-lines to do magic; it's all in the genes now." His grandmother smiled at him.
"Are there ley-lines back home?" he asked out loud to no one in particular.
"Back home especially," his father said. "England is a hotspot for magic."
"How do you know, daddy?" Kalina asked sleepily from their mother's lap.
"You'll learn it at Hogwarts, honey." He smiled at her. Kalina looked over at Timothy, her eyes narrowed with half-suspicion, half-fatigue.
"How come you didn't know that?" She asked him.
Timothy sat up straight in defense.
"I've only been there a year, Kalina."
"Ok, enough of that. Time for bed!" Their grandmother got up with some effort and nudged their mother to agree.
"C'mon you two." She forced Kalina out of her lap and took her hand, leading her into the hallway toward the bedrooms.
"You get to stay in the spare bedroom. Your parents will be next door in your mom's old room." Timothy's grandmother took him gently by the shoulders and led him into the spare room.
While everyone was preparing for bed, Kalina already nodding off in her nightgown on a small cot on the floor, Timothy looked around the old room.
"This was my Uncle Timothy's room, wasn't it?" He asked his grandmother, who had kissed Kalina goodnight. She considered him a moment and then nodded.
"Yes it was… and that was his bed too." She pointed to him, and sighed. "I've been waiting for you to ask that. The last few times you were here you slept with your parents in your mom's old room."
"I don't remember ever asking." Timothy yawned, wondering how that could be, even though he had only been to his grandparents' home a few times in his life.
"Well, I'm sure he'd be happy to know that his nephew is using it. This room has been so lonely." His grandmother shrugged, smiled, and kissed him goodnight. As she left the room, his parents came in for their turn, and they did their evening routine. It wasn't long before the candles were blown out and the sounds of his sister's quiet breathing and the crickets singing outside that Timothy fell asleep.
The sun hit the window with full force as the Florida dawn rose early that summer morning. Timothy stirred and turned over, hearing his sister do the same. However, the heat got to his back and Timothy couldn't fall asleep again. Groaning quietly, he forced himself to sit up and look around, putting on his glasses. Kalina was still fast asleep under a dark sheet, one of her dolls hanging on the side of the cot. The room itself was bare from lack of use, yet he could still make out the darker spots on the walls where posters were hung long ago. His uncle must have had many favorite Quidditch teams too.
Continuing to let sleep leave him, Timothy thought about what his uncle must have been like. His mother often talked about him, but not in detail; they were really close and his death was especially hard on her. That was what earned him his name; his mother was pregnant with him when Timothy was killed, and in his honor his parents named him after his murdered uncle. From what he was told, his uncle was smart, funny, and a good Quidditch player.
Timothy blinked the sleep out of his eyes, stretching out his arms. He continued to stretch, knocking his hand into the headboard of the bed. Grabbing his hand quickly and stifling a yelp so as not to wake anyone, Timothy heard something fall with a soft thud from behind the headboard. Afraid that he had knocked something down, he peered behind the headboard and squinted in the dark and dust. He could just make out a shape squeezed between the headboard and the wall.
Slowly and quietly, Timothy positioned himself to retrieve the object. After trying to reach it from atop the headboard without result, he moved silently to floor and tried to get it from there. Five minutes later, Timothy found himself nearly under the bed, grabbing a leather bound… book.
"It's just a silly book." Timothy muttered with exasperation over his efforts. He was about to toss it away when Kalina let out a snort and turned over, giving Timothy second thoughts on throwing it. Instead, looking quite smug, he moved to go back into bed when the old book in his hand caught the light from the window. Shiny and peeling gold letters showed dully with age, but it still caught his eye. Peering closer, Timothy read the words:
Memories of old,
Help remember times that were
From these stories never told,
Stay within this book forever
Carefully, he opened the worn leather cover and saw the first page. It was a diary. Curious, he read the first few lines.
Hello,
My name is Timothy Springs and I am twelve years old. I found this old diary in an old Muggle bookshop that I stumbled into yesterday. Don't tell mom and dad, but I looked around and pretended to be a Muggle! Anyway, this diary was old and the shop owner said I could have it… I didn't have to pay! I've never had a diary before, so let's see how this goes…
Timothy let out a silent gasp. This was his Uncle Timothy's old diary from when he was a boy! He must of kept it behind his headboard and forgot it when he moved out. His curiosity burning, Timothy read the first few pages. A few moments later, however, he felt someone breathing on his neck. Startled, Timothy jumped and quickly shut the diary as he turned around and faced Kalina, her long dark brown hair all messy from the night.
"What'cha doing?" She asked innocently. "What's that?"
"Nothing." He said quickly, shoving the diary under his pillow. Kalina stared at him with suspicion for a moment, then shrugged and left the room. Timothy waited until she was gone and then looked down at his pillow that covered the diary. He was about to pull it out again when there was a knock on the door.
"'Morning." His father yawned in the doorway.
"Oh, hey! Yeah, good morning!" Timothy blurted out, patting the pillow to make sure it covered the diary all the way. He jumped off the bed and gave his father a quick hug. "Mum up yet?"
His father scratched his head and nodded sleepily.
"We got the Kalina wake up call."
Timothy stifled a giggle as he left the hallway and came upon the breakfast table, where it was already set with cereal and toast. His mother was pouring coffee alongside his grandmother; they both smiled as he sat down next to Kalina.
"What are we going to do today?" Kalina asked with her mouth full of toast.
"Just hang out here and rest. Tomorrow we'll go out and do something." Their mother replied, smiling at their father as he finally came in and sat down next to Timothy. His head hit the table with a thud, making both Timothy and Kalina laugh.
"Perhaps your father will need two days." Their grandmother laughed, putting cream on the table and ruffling their father's hair. He grunted in agreement.
As much as Timothy wanted to stay in his uncle's old room and read the diary, it would have been too suspicious if he had stayed in there all day. As his mother and sister flipped through old photo albums while his father napped, Timothy decided to go outside and find something interesting to do.
"Pretty hot, huh?" His grandfather greeted him in the front yard, holding a large bag.
Timothy nodded.
"What are you doing?" He asked curiously.
"Putting anti-gnome hexed sticks in the ground. Those suckers get bigger every year and I've heard that this stuff gets rid of them." His grandfather bent down and stuck a green spike in the grass. With a flick of his wand, it disappeared under the blades. "There. That should do it."
Timothy stood awkwardly in the sun a moment, squinting in the light as he watched his grandfather brush off his hands and pocket his wand. After a while, he looked around past the yard, seeing a worn path leading from the house.
"If you're gonna go out, might as well check out what you can find along the travel path there. Your mom took that way to school when she was your age, ya know." His grandfather said suddenly, after seeing Timothy staring at the path.
"Ok. Can you tell mum and dad where I've gone?" He asked him, starting off toward the path.
"Don't be gone too long, and stay away from the Muggle houses."
Timothy nodded and waved, then set out along the dirt path. It was covered with pine needles and lined with palmetto bushes and towering pine trees. Not long after his grandparents' house went out of sight, Timothy came upon a fork in the path. The path that branched to the left was clear of trees and looked frequently traveled, while the branch to the right became more cluttered with plant life and barely showed evidence of a path at all from lack of use. He was about to take the path to the left when something inside of him made him turn to the right. The woods would be a little more interesting.
The path narrowed and disappeared soon after Timothy entered the woods. However, he could just make out through the bushes where it was easier to walk through; an old trail must have been there before. Pushing large fans of leaves and branches out of the way, Timothy walked the ancient trail, happy to be out of the hot sun. The sounds of the woodland creatures were the only other sounds besides the crunching of the flora under his feet. Timothy was content for a while, until the calm serenity of the woods allowed his mind to wander.
"If the crest is anywhere, it's definitely not here." He muttered aloud to himself suddenly. His worries returned, but Timothy tried hard to push them back, trying to let the woods envelop him and nothing else. The silence only made it worse, though, for he couldn't think of anything else but the family crest that he was supposed to find.
"Why me?! Why now? If my future self knows about it, why doesn't he find it?" He kicked at a pinecone, making it bounce off of a tree trunk and land in a thicket of bushes. "What good can I do against an evil wizard? I'm not my dad… or my mum."
There was a sudden movement and rustle of leaves behind him, and Timothy turned around to find nothing but a large palmetto bush settling back down. After staring at it suspiciously for a moment, he shrugged and continued shuffling along down the long-gone trail.
Continuing to mumble to himself, Timothy zoned out of the woods and into his mind. This is all so stupid! He thought bitterly. At least here I have a reason not to look
SMACK!
Timothy was brought abruptly out his mind as he fell flat on his back after walking straight into a large pine tree. The world spun in front of his eyes and he groaned as he fumbled to sit himself up. Rubbing his head and groaning… Timothy could have sworn he heard another noise beside himself. It sounded like somebody giggling; he held his breath.
"Hello?" He called out, moving to get on all fours so he could push himself back onto his feet. Nothing but silence answered him. Yet, as he let out another groan and put his weight into his hands to push himself up, Timothy heard a crack underneath his hand.
Lifting it up, something like a yellow stick weathered badly with time lay in two pieces among the dead undergrowth of the woods. He picked the pieces up and held them close to his dirty glasses.
"Huh, looks like one of those Muggle pencils mum uses," Timothy mumbled. "Looks like this has been here a long time. No wonder it broke so easily."
Wincing, Timothy got up on his feet, still holding the broken pencil. As he glanced about, rubbing his backside, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Before he could turn his head to see it clearly, whatever… or whoever… it was had gone.
Still staring at the spot, Timothy heard thunder roll in the distance. He tried to peer through the canopy, and he noticed that it had gotten darker. With a last suspicious glance around him, Timothy brushed past a large hibiscus plant and found his way out of the woods via the invisible trail. He pocketed the broken pencil and picked up his pace, for the thunder had gotten louder and it was beginning to rain. As he jogged out back to the path, he glanced back at the vanishing woods. Whatever or whoever it was that he saw… he wanted to see again; he would be back when it was dry before he left for home.
"There you are!" His mother shouted out to him as Timothy ran into the house, wet from the summer rain shower that had begun to pour.
"Sorry." He mumbled as she took him by the shoulder and led him to the bathroom to dry off. She was obviously tense about something, for when she dried his hair she was especially rough.
"Granddad did tell you I went out, didn't he?" Timothy asked with concern.
She didn't answer right away and didn't look him in the face.
"Yes, he did." She said finally. Timothy still sensed that something was bothering her.
"Sorry if I was out too late. I lost track of time; got so caught up in the sights." He let out a shaky laugh, looking at her closely. She inspected his clothes, which were dirty from his fall and from trampling through the woods.
"You were in the woods, weren't you?"
Timothy bit his lip. The tone of her voice revealed that visiting the woods was not allowed. Then why did his grandfather let him go?
"Y-yes."
"Timothy, you know not to go out on your own…" His mother started.
"But Granddad said I could go!" Timothy interrupted.
"He thought you would stick to the path and go into the town! Who knows what could have happened in the woods? It's dangerous, Timothy, something could have happened," She crossed her arms and looked him straight in the eye. "You are not to go back there, do you hear me?"
"But…"
"Do. You. Understand?" Her question was more of a demand; her words were law. Timothy looked down at his feet and sighed.
"Yes, ma'am."
She considered him a moment, and her stern expression softened slightly.
"Alright then, go help your sister set the table. Dinner's soon."
Timothy didn't look up as he walked out of the bathroom and silently helped Kalina. She sensed that he was in trouble and didn't say a word, although giving him sideward glances every other minute. He ignored her, looking up at his mother who had walked out of the bathroom to face his father. His expression toward her was that of question and concern, and Timothy's mother sighed and shook her head, brushing past him to go into her old bedroom. He followed, and Timothy watched them disappear. What was it that his mother had against the woods? Why would she be so upset about him going there and not his grandfather, who suggested he go to the woods in the first place? His parents didn't come out of the room until Timothy, Kalina, and their grandparents were already seated and ready to eat. In silence, they ate; his mother's expression was indifferent.
Hey,
Today after school, I accidentally wound up in the woods that are off the path leading to home. I've always heard stories at school that some primitive magical people live in there and that they put a body bind spell on you and take your heads off with a hex. Mom says they're only stories; myths and legends. So, I thought I'd see if it was true when I found myself in the woods today. You won't believe it, but I think I saw someone in the bushes! Well, I was so scared that I ran out and down the path faster than a Cleansweep 7! If it was one of those magical people, I sure didn't want my head to be hexed off! I tried to tell mom and dad that I saw one of the primitive magical people, but they were convinced that it must have been someone from school playing a trick on me. Well, if it was, they sure got me good. Yet, you won't find me back in those woods again… just in case.
"What'cha up to?"
Timothy jumped, quickly shoving his uncle's diary he was reading before bed back under his pillow and turned around. His grandfather stood in the doorway, a look of apology on his face.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
"Oh, don't worry, I was just… just er…" Timothy didn't know if he should tell him… or anyone for that matter… that he was reading his dead uncle's diary. Instead, he twiddled his thumbs and looked about for an excuse.
"I just wanted to apologize. I feel responsible for this afternoon." His grandfather continued without Timothy's explanation.
"Responsible for what?" Timothy asked blankly, but then it dawned on him. "Oh… no, it was my fault. I should have gone into the village instead of the woods."
"Nah… if I hadn't of suggested it you wouldn't have gone, you're too smart to have gone in if you thought it wasn't allowed. I didn't realize how your mother would react… it is dangerous there, especially these days." His grandfather walked in and patted Timothy's shoulder.
"Granddad? Why was she so upset? Dad wasn't even mad." Timothy asked him as his grandfather walked out. He turned around and frowned with thought, then shook his head and sighed.
"Well… she's just worried about her children, that's all. Sometimes the maternal instinct causes her to beat herself up if she thinks she slipped up in protecting you and your sister. Like I said, these are not friendly times anymore, and you shouldn't be out on your own. As for your dad, perhaps he thought you had enough reprimand from your mother." After a moment's pause, he smiled, muttered "good night" and left just as Kalina walked in.
"What?" Timothy asked his sister sharply after she stopped to stare at him before getting in bed. She flinched at his tone.
"Nothing. Goodnight." Sounding hurt, Kalina didn't waste time getting into her cot and turning over. Timothy sighed, bringing the diary back out and looking at the cover.
"Sorry." He muttered, shoving the diary back under his pillow and he blew out the candles.
Maybe what I saw is what mum's all upset about. Perhaps those people actually do exist? Timothy thought as he drifted off to sleep.
"Timothy, come on! You can write to Darian later!"
Hot and annoyed, Timothy touched his glasses, instantly turning them tinted. He packed up the letter he was writing and hurried to catch up with his family. It was the following day and they were spending the afternoon in Cocoa Beach. Timothy was eager to write to Darian and John, telling them about what he possibly had seen in the woods the day before. Unfortunately, there wasn't time to write before his family left for the beach, and he resorted to writing them while he was there.
"There's a neat wizarding restaurant right on the beach, disguised as a dune patch. You can write your letters there… but for now, come on! We're here to spend time together!" His mother put her arms around him as he caught up. Kalina was sitting on their father's shoulders in front of them.
"Kalina… you're too heavy… it's hot…" He moaned.
"C'mon daddy! I'm too hot to walk." She whined back.
"You two wouldn't survive one month living here. This is normal from March through October." Timothy's mother laughed, hugging him to her side as they walked. He had a feeling she felt bad for yesterday… he wasn't really upset at all at her… there was a reason for it.
"I don't know how you did it, Renee. This is brutal! Are we there yet?" His father panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Umm… yeah, I think so. I think that's it." She pointed over to a dune patch, completely free of sunbathing tourists. It must have had warding spells around the area to keep Muggles away. Sure enough, as they approached, a very large hut became visible. Wizards and witches all dressed in the typical Florida garb sat at tables laughing and shelling chilled shrimp.
"Oh mannn… how I miss this. Shrimp heaven!" His mother clapped her hands
"Lemmie guess what we're having for lunch." His father rolled his eyes, smiling and letting Kalina down.
"I have to show my children the fine art of shelling a shrimp. It's not a simple task. Why else would they give you the option of doing it for you?" She ran ahead of them to get a table. His father sighed and looked down at Timothy and Kalina.
"If there's one thing Floridians are famous for, it's shelling shrimp. Your mum is no exception you know."
Sure enough, once seated, Timothy's mother ordered the largest bucket of freshly chilled shrimp and began the arduous process of peeling the clear shell off. Both Kalina and their father became determinedly engrossed on following her expertise, but Timothy was more interested in finishing his letters. Loosing his appetite as he saw a tray of eels being carried to the next table, Timothy gathered his parchment and quill and excused himself.
"Don't be too long… the shrimp won't last forever!" His mother called after him, professionally squeezing a shrimp's tail and sucking every last bit of meat out.
Walking out to where a bunch of hammocks were hung, Timothy decided to indulge himself in beach living and sat down in one. Before long, he was rocking back and forth, finishing up his letter to Darian and beginning one to John.
"Hey!"
Timothy turned around with effort in the netted swing and saw a blonde girl about his age, dressed in a bikini top and Capri shorts.
"You're sitting in it wrong." She pointed at him.
He looked at her blankly.
"How can you sit in a hammock wrong?"
"Tourists," She rolled her eyes. "You lay down in a hammock; it's not a swing."
"Oh." He shrugged, turning back to his letter. As he re-read it, Timothy got a fleeting idea.
"Er… hey!" He called at the girl, who was going back inside the restaurant.
"'Sup?" She put her hands on her hips, turning back to him.
"Umm… you wouldn't know anything about myths around here, would you?" He bit his lip. This girl was obviously local and bumbling tourists appeared to phase her.
It was her turn to blink at him.
"Myths? Like what?"
"Magical people who live out in the wilderness; primitive like." He said, struggling to get out of the hammock to face her properly.
She looked puzzled a minute, then realization dawned on her.
"Oh! You mean the cavemen wizards!"
"Cavemen wizards?" Timothy ran his hand through his hair, which was filled with sand from the blowing wind.
"Well, it's really the only myth we have. Florida has beaches, not Loch Ness Monsters." She crossed her arms.
"Actually, there is such a thing as the Loch Ness Monster. My dad took me to see it one time when I was little." He pointed out.
"Figures, you obviously being from the UK." The girl tossed her hair absentmindedly while staring at her shuffling feet in the sand. Timothy began to lose patience.
"Well? What about these cavemen wizards?"
She shrugged.
"Well, people say that these Indian-type folk hang out in the forests. They use magic from nature, I think. No one's ever seen one, and lived! They say they can capture your soul and sell it pirates on the West Coast."
"Sell it to pirates?" He cocked his head with raised eyebrows, disbelieving.
"It's what I heard… then again, aren't all myths tall tales? I also heard they run around naked."
"Well that's helpful," Timothy sighed sarcastically. "I'll just look out for some streaking magical Indians and I'm all set!"
The girl laughed at him.
"Why do you want to know anyway? I've heard that they don't hang around the coast, that big Muggle contraption that goes off into space every other month or so keeps them away."
"I'm visiting my grandparents. They live about an hour inland. There's some woods by their house and I've heard something about people in there… but I haven't heard a full story." He didn't think he should mention that he thought he saw one of these "cavemen wizards".
"Well, good luck then." The girl flashed a brief half-bored smile and went back inside. Timothy looked back out at the ocean; the girl wasn't that much help at all. He made up his mind that he had to go back… something about the way his mother reacted to him being there puzzled him. If it was all just tall tales, and his mother was intelligent enough not to believe, why would she be so upset? As he headed back inside, Timothy also thought it would be wise to search his uncle's diary for any more entries about the woods. Perhaps that would help him.
"Timothy, you've missed half the bucket!" His mother called out to him as he sat down.
"So have we… you're a lot faster than us. We peel one shrimp for every one of your three!" His father said, helping Kalina gather the edible pieces of a shrimp she had destroyed in the process of peeling it.
"Practice makes perfect you know." She smiled at them. When she turned to Timothy again, she noticed that he wasn't eating but lost in thought. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," He replied quickly, picking up a shrimp and studying it. "Just unraveling a mystery."
Out of the corner of his eye, Timothy could see his mother watching him closely. Her expression was hard to read, especially when she stole a glance at his father who wore an equal look.
Honestly telling the truth, Timothy announced shortly after getting back to his grandparents' house that he was tired and wanted to go to bed early. No one objected, and he retreated to his uncle's old room with eagerness to consult the diary. Making sure that the door was closed, he brought it out from his hiding place and flipped through the pages. For a old little leather-bound book, it had a lot of pages that spanned years. He stopped at one entry that his uncle wrote when he was 17-
Dear Diary
My little sister, Renee, is a real handful. Mom has me babysitting her nearly every chance that I've got. She loves to go outside and play, which is fine by me. I fly my broom while she runs around trying to catch me. It's really funny! However, Renee has this uncanny ability to walk off without me knowing. For the third time this week, I found her in the woods. If mom ever finds out, she'll roast me, toast me, and burn me to a crisp with two shakes and a wave of her wand before I could say "Oops". Renee finds this very amusing…
Timothy was getting somewhere. He skipped a more pages and read another entry a year later-
Dear Diary
I caught five-year old Renee out in the woods again. She's convinced that she's found a kid to play with in there… but I haven't seen anything move in those freaky woods since that day when I was twelve. Renee doesn't understand why I flip out when I find her there… and she still goes back. It's a wonder she hasn't mentioned anything to mom or dad; I certainly haven't! Nor do I plan to. If there's one thing more than keeping my own hide out of trouble… it's keeping my little sister safe.
Bingo. There it was, Timothy read the article more closely again. "She's convinced that she's found a kid to play with in there." His uncle wanted to keep her safe. Perhaps this "kid" was one of those "cavemen wizards". Maybe something happened that scared her and she won't go back. But then, why was the pencil so far inside the woods? Certainly a five-year old couldn't reach that far without his uncle noticing. Could she have continued going back? Timothy decided to read some more. He found another entry a few months after the previous one. The first part said nothing, but as he read on, he found some more about his mother:
…I'll be starting my job for the government tomorrow, and I'm afraid that Renee will be on her own. She hasn't mentioned anything more about the "boy in the woods", nor have I found her there. Then again, I'm not outside much at all anymore. She goes out by herself. Renee's pretty bright for her age, and I trust her that she knows what she's doing. So, I no longer pester her about staying away from the woods. However, if I hear or see anything that harms her, you can bet I'll be marching through those woods to give whomever a good hex!
That was it. His uncle didn't mention anything more about his mother and the woods. He sighed out loud, closing the worn diary and yawning. Just as he was stuffing the diary back under his pillow, the door swung open. His father came in carrying Kalina, fast asleep in his arms. He smiled at Timothy as he placed her gently onto the cot. Timothy's mother came in shortly and got Kalina undressed and into a nightgown. She smiled at him too, coming over to tuck him in. Gratefully, he snuggled under the cool sheets, suddenly realizing how hot his skin was. His mother clucked softly.
"And you had sunscreen on too." She whispered. "I think your grandmother still has some aloe potion somewhere. First thing when you wake up, I'll put some on you."
They said prayers and said goodnight. As Timothy watched his mother blow out the candles and closed the door behind her as she left, he couldn't help wondering what it was that his mother feared about the woods. For now, the mission to find the family crest was forgotten for the first time that summer. His mission now was to find his mother's secret fear.
A/N: If you've read "A Day Without Rain" and think you know what Renee's deal is with the woods, you're right! However, there's more to it with Timothy's venture. So, the next chapter should be rather interesting for you! Also, I have a lot more interesting and exciting things planned for chapter 3, so that's not all.
So, with this chaptering system, you'll get an authoralert when I update "Shadows of Yesterday" with a new chapter. It will no longer say the chapter #, just the name of the story. So heads up! That's the only part I don't like... it's hard to tell when they've had a chapter added. Oh well.
Renee's site will keep you posted! I update it all the time, you know.
http://www.theworldofreneepotter.disneyfansites.com
And thank you for your encouragement on the Preamble. However I have been incredibly stupid and just realized that it must be memorized by Monday. So, guess what I'll be doing all weekend! As for chapter 3, look for it by next friday! Or... just click ahead to chap. 3... if you're reading this after 2/9/01.
~OrcaPotter :-)
DISCLAIMER: We the readers of Harry Potter fanfiction establish the fact that I am not J.K. but Orca who DID come up with Timothy and anything that J.K. didn't.
Chapter Two: The Woods
The following morning, Timothy woke up to find both of his parents and Kalina already packing for the trip. His mother looked up from the bag she was stuffing with various hygiene products and opened her mouth to speak before Timothy held up a single hand.
"I'll get my stuff." He yawned.
Her eyes were held in momentary surprise until she heard Kalina snicker behind her back. After which she just shook her head and looked back at Kalina with a mock frown.
When they were all packed and ready to go, Timothy and his family gathered in front of the fire.
"Everything locked up?" His mother asked.
"Yep." Answered his father.
"Got everything?"
"Uh-huh." Timothy yawned.
"Renee, did you clear everything with customs over there?" his father asked, throwing a shoulder bag over his shoulder.
"Of course," She said, throwing an extra helping of Floo Powder into the fireplace. "They wouldn't have linked our fireplace without the notice."
"Ok then, let's go." Timothy's father moved to step inside before Timothy's mother stopped him.
"Wait, did you put on sunscreen? Did all three of you? The last time we went you all came back as red as lobsters."
"Yes." Came three voices in union.
"Ok, let's go."
"HOLD IT!"
With a unanimous sigh, Timothy and his family turned to face Jeff, who looked extremely ruffled.
"I can't believe how all of you abandon me at the blink of an eye! I'll be all alone here!" Smoke jetted from his nose.
Timothy's mother put her hands on her hips, looking down at Jeff in exasperation.
"Jeff, the last time we took you to Florida you ate a seagull and got sick all over my mother's white carpet."
"Let's not forget the fact that you can't swim." His father added.
"Hey, that seagull ate something spicy before I ate him! It wasn't my fault… plus, who in their right mind would have white carpeting? Jeff argued.
To appease his yellow friend, Timothy shifted the bag he was holding containing parchment and quills to write home with and scratched Jeff behind the ears.
"Not fair…" Jeff sighed contently, falling to the floor in a heap while his tail twitched in pleasure.
"I'll bring you back a coconut." Timothy laughed, following his mother and sister who had already gone through the fireplace. His father winked at him as he stepped into the green flames.
"Springs residence!" He said clearly, and the world blurred before him, whisking him away from his country and into a different one. If it weren't for his mother waiting with her arms out to catch him, Timothy would have fell flat on his face. It took longer than normal because of the distance to get through the network and he was dizzy.
"Oh, there he is!" Squealed an old and pleasant voice.
When Timothy's head stopped spinning, held safely in his mother's arms, he noticed where he was. Kalina was already tight in the grasp of his grandmother, showered with kisses and constant coos. Now she was eyeing him, but his grandfather made it to him first.
"This can't be my grandson! This guy here is too big." His grandfather was very strong and large, making no effort to pry Timothy from his mother and persist to ruffle his hair. However, it was far from the gentle tossing his father and uncles did. His grandfather's strength nearly knocked Timothy to his knees, all while trying desperately to smile, although with gritted teeth.
"Hello… Granddad." Timothy managed to say.
"Dad, careful… you'll make him bald." His mother, to his relief, pulled him away. His father finally arrived, looking disheveled but pleased to be away.
"Hello everyone." He called out. Timothy scuttled to stand next to him so that his grandmother wouldn't catch him, but it was futile. His grandmother grabbed his arm while his father giggled silently. Timothy glowered at him while his cheeks were being pinched.
"Oh look how big you've gotten! Renee, you've got to come more often! I can't even recognize my little boy! Well, he's not so little anymore now is he? Isn't that right? My how handsome you are, just like your father. But your mother's eyes you still have, yes! Oh, I could just eat you up!"
Timothy's cheeks flamed while everyone began to giggle, Kalina who was perched atop their grandfather's shoulders, giggled the loudest.
"Mom… umm, yeah, just…there ya go." His mother pried him from his grandmother's fingers and held him close. Timothy sighed with relief, hiding his face in her robes until his face returned to its normal color.
Once the family shock wore off, Timothy found his grandparent's to be very intelligent and efficient. The last time Timothy and his family had visited was when Kalina was a baby; he was 8 years old. Now that he was older, he found his grandparents to be very interesting as they told stories about the various places on earth that they had been to. After dinner, they all sat in the living room next to an old grandfather clock much like the one his parents had at home, and listened to stories about South America and Africa.
"Do not play cards with a Voodoo witchdoctor," his grandfather explained. "I won't even begin on the types of things we betted on."
"The bush people in Africa use a more primitive type of magic. They don't use specially made wands, like we do. Instead, they find your average large stick or branch and use the local ley-lines to channel the magic through it." His grandmother told over a mug of coffee.
"What are ley-lines?" Timothy asked.
"Ley-lines are natural rivers of magical energy that flow unseen all over the earth like an intricate spider web. Wizards and witches of long ago used them to perform powerful magic. That was before magic became one with our blood, for now we don't necessarily need ley-lines to do magic; it's all in the genes now." His grandmother smiled at him.
"Are there ley-lines back home?" he asked out loud to no one in particular.
"Back home especially," his father said. "England is a hotspot for magic."
"How do you know, daddy?" Kalina asked sleepily from their mother's lap.
"You'll learn it at Hogwarts, honey." He smiled at her. Kalina looked over at Timothy, her eyes narrowed with half-suspicion, half-fatigue.
"How come you didn't know that?" She asked him.
Timothy sat up straight in defense.
"I've only been there a year, Kalina."
"Ok, enough of that. Time for bed!" Their grandmother got up with some effort and nudged their mother to agree.
"C'mon you two." She forced Kalina out of her lap and took her hand, leading her into the hallway toward the bedrooms.
"You get to stay in the spare bedroom. Your parents will be next door in your mom's old room." Timothy's grandmother took him gently by the shoulders and led him into the spare room.
While everyone was preparing for bed, Kalina already nodding off in her nightgown on a small cot on the floor, Timothy looked around the old room.
"This was my Uncle Timothy's room, wasn't it?" He asked his grandmother, who had kissed Kalina goodnight. She considered him a moment and then nodded.
"Yes it was… and that was his bed too." She pointed to him, and sighed. "I've been waiting for you to ask that. The last few times you were here you slept with your parents in your mom's old room."
"I don't remember ever asking." Timothy yawned, wondering how that could be, even though he had only been to his grandparents' home a few times in his life.
"Well, I'm sure he'd be happy to know that his nephew is using it. This room has been so lonely." His grandmother shrugged, smiled, and kissed him goodnight. As she left the room, his parents came in for their turn, and they did their evening routine. It wasn't long before the candles were blown out and the sounds of his sister's quiet breathing and the crickets singing outside that Timothy fell asleep.
The sun hit the window with full force as the Florida dawn rose early that summer morning. Timothy stirred and turned over, hearing his sister do the same. However, the heat got to his back and Timothy couldn't fall asleep again. Groaning quietly, he forced himself to sit up and look around, putting on his glasses. Kalina was still fast asleep under a dark sheet, one of her dolls hanging on the side of the cot. The room itself was bare from lack of use, yet he could still make out the darker spots on the walls where posters were hung long ago. His uncle must have had many favorite Quidditch teams too.
Continuing to let sleep leave him, Timothy thought about what his uncle must have been like. His mother often talked about him, but not in detail; they were really close and his death was especially hard on her. That was what earned him his name; his mother was pregnant with him when Timothy was killed, and in his honor his parents named him after his murdered uncle. From what he was told, his uncle was smart, funny, and a good Quidditch player.
Timothy blinked the sleep out of his eyes, stretching out his arms. He continued to stretch, knocking his hand into the headboard of the bed. Grabbing his hand quickly and stifling a yelp so as not to wake anyone, Timothy heard something fall with a soft thud from behind the headboard. Afraid that he had knocked something down, he peered behind the headboard and squinted in the dark and dust. He could just make out a shape squeezed between the headboard and the wall.
Slowly and quietly, Timothy positioned himself to retrieve the object. After trying to reach it from atop the headboard without result, he moved silently to floor and tried to get it from there. Five minutes later, Timothy found himself nearly under the bed, grabbing a leather bound… book.
"It's just a silly book." Timothy muttered with exasperation over his efforts. He was about to toss it away when Kalina let out a snort and turned over, giving Timothy second thoughts on throwing it. Instead, looking quite smug, he moved to go back into bed when the old book in his hand caught the light from the window. Shiny and peeling gold letters showed dully with age, but it still caught his eye. Peering closer, Timothy read the words:
Memories of old,
Help remember times that were
From these stories never told,
Stay within this book forever
Carefully, he opened the worn leather cover and saw the first page. It was a diary. Curious, he read the first few lines.
Hello,
My name is Timothy Springs and I am twelve years old. I found this old diary in an old Muggle bookshop that I stumbled into yesterday. Don't tell mom and dad, but I looked around and pretended to be a Muggle! Anyway, this diary was old and the shop owner said I could have it… I didn't have to pay! I've never had a diary before, so let's see how this goes…
Timothy let out a silent gasp. This was his Uncle Timothy's old diary from when he was a boy! He must of kept it behind his headboard and forgot it when he moved out. His curiosity burning, Timothy read the first few pages. A few moments later, however, he felt someone breathing on his neck. Startled, Timothy jumped and quickly shut the diary as he turned around and faced Kalina, her long dark brown hair all messy from the night.
"What'cha doing?" She asked innocently. "What's that?"
"Nothing." He said quickly, shoving the diary under his pillow. Kalina stared at him with suspicion for a moment, then shrugged and left the room. Timothy waited until she was gone and then looked down at his pillow that covered the diary. He was about to pull it out again when there was a knock on the door.
"'Morning." His father yawned in the doorway.
"Oh, hey! Yeah, good morning!" Timothy blurted out, patting the pillow to make sure it covered the diary all the way. He jumped off the bed and gave his father a quick hug. "Mum up yet?"
His father scratched his head and nodded sleepily.
"We got the Kalina wake up call."
Timothy stifled a giggle as he left the hallway and came upon the breakfast table, where it was already set with cereal and toast. His mother was pouring coffee alongside his grandmother; they both smiled as he sat down next to Kalina.
"What are we going to do today?" Kalina asked with her mouth full of toast.
"Just hang out here and rest. Tomorrow we'll go out and do something." Their mother replied, smiling at their father as he finally came in and sat down next to Timothy. His head hit the table with a thud, making both Timothy and Kalina laugh.
"Perhaps your father will need two days." Their grandmother laughed, putting cream on the table and ruffling their father's hair. He grunted in agreement.
As much as Timothy wanted to stay in his uncle's old room and read the diary, it would have been too suspicious if he had stayed in there all day. As his mother and sister flipped through old photo albums while his father napped, Timothy decided to go outside and find something interesting to do.
"Pretty hot, huh?" His grandfather greeted him in the front yard, holding a large bag.
Timothy nodded.
"What are you doing?" He asked curiously.
"Putting anti-gnome hexed sticks in the ground. Those suckers get bigger every year and I've heard that this stuff gets rid of them." His grandfather bent down and stuck a green spike in the grass. With a flick of his wand, it disappeared under the blades. "There. That should do it."
Timothy stood awkwardly in the sun a moment, squinting in the light as he watched his grandfather brush off his hands and pocket his wand. After a while, he looked around past the yard, seeing a worn path leading from the house.
"If you're gonna go out, might as well check out what you can find along the travel path there. Your mom took that way to school when she was your age, ya know." His grandfather said suddenly, after seeing Timothy staring at the path.
"Ok. Can you tell mum and dad where I've gone?" He asked him, starting off toward the path.
"Don't be gone too long, and stay away from the Muggle houses."
Timothy nodded and waved, then set out along the dirt path. It was covered with pine needles and lined with palmetto bushes and towering pine trees. Not long after his grandparents' house went out of sight, Timothy came upon a fork in the path. The path that branched to the left was clear of trees and looked frequently traveled, while the branch to the right became more cluttered with plant life and barely showed evidence of a path at all from lack of use. He was about to take the path to the left when something inside of him made him turn to the right. The woods would be a little more interesting.
The path narrowed and disappeared soon after Timothy entered the woods. However, he could just make out through the bushes where it was easier to walk through; an old trail must have been there before. Pushing large fans of leaves and branches out of the way, Timothy walked the ancient trail, happy to be out of the hot sun. The sounds of the woodland creatures were the only other sounds besides the crunching of the flora under his feet. Timothy was content for a while, until the calm serenity of the woods allowed his mind to wander.
"If the crest is anywhere, it's definitely not here." He muttered aloud to himself suddenly. His worries returned, but Timothy tried hard to push them back, trying to let the woods envelop him and nothing else. The silence only made it worse, though, for he couldn't think of anything else but the family crest that he was supposed to find.
"Why me?! Why now? If my future self knows about it, why doesn't he find it?" He kicked at a pinecone, making it bounce off of a tree trunk and land in a thicket of bushes. "What good can I do against an evil wizard? I'm not my dad… or my mum."
There was a sudden movement and rustle of leaves behind him, and Timothy turned around to find nothing but a large palmetto bush settling back down. After staring at it suspiciously for a moment, he shrugged and continued shuffling along down the long-gone trail.
Continuing to mumble to himself, Timothy zoned out of the woods and into his mind. This is all so stupid! He thought bitterly. At least here I have a reason not to look
SMACK!
Timothy was brought abruptly out his mind as he fell flat on his back after walking straight into a large pine tree. The world spun in front of his eyes and he groaned as he fumbled to sit himself up. Rubbing his head and groaning… Timothy could have sworn he heard another noise beside himself. It sounded like somebody giggling; he held his breath.
"Hello?" He called out, moving to get on all fours so he could push himself back onto his feet. Nothing but silence answered him. Yet, as he let out another groan and put his weight into his hands to push himself up, Timothy heard a crack underneath his hand.
Lifting it up, something like a yellow stick weathered badly with time lay in two pieces among the dead undergrowth of the woods. He picked the pieces up and held them close to his dirty glasses.
"Huh, looks like one of those Muggle pencils mum uses," Timothy mumbled. "Looks like this has been here a long time. No wonder it broke so easily."
Wincing, Timothy got up on his feet, still holding the broken pencil. As he glanced about, rubbing his backside, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Before he could turn his head to see it clearly, whatever… or whoever… it was had gone.
Still staring at the spot, Timothy heard thunder roll in the distance. He tried to peer through the canopy, and he noticed that it had gotten darker. With a last suspicious glance around him, Timothy brushed past a large hibiscus plant and found his way out of the woods via the invisible trail. He pocketed the broken pencil and picked up his pace, for the thunder had gotten louder and it was beginning to rain. As he jogged out back to the path, he glanced back at the vanishing woods. Whatever or whoever it was that he saw… he wanted to see again; he would be back when it was dry before he left for home.
"There you are!" His mother shouted out to him as Timothy ran into the house, wet from the summer rain shower that had begun to pour.
"Sorry." He mumbled as she took him by the shoulder and led him to the bathroom to dry off. She was obviously tense about something, for when she dried his hair she was especially rough.
"Granddad did tell you I went out, didn't he?" Timothy asked with concern.
She didn't answer right away and didn't look him in the face.
"Yes, he did." She said finally. Timothy still sensed that something was bothering her.
"Sorry if I was out too late. I lost track of time; got so caught up in the sights." He let out a shaky laugh, looking at her closely. She inspected his clothes, which were dirty from his fall and from trampling through the woods.
"You were in the woods, weren't you?"
Timothy bit his lip. The tone of her voice revealed that visiting the woods was not allowed. Then why did his grandfather let him go?
"Y-yes."
"Timothy, you know not to go out on your own…" His mother started.
"But Granddad said I could go!" Timothy interrupted.
"He thought you would stick to the path and go into the town! Who knows what could have happened in the woods? It's dangerous, Timothy, something could have happened," She crossed her arms and looked him straight in the eye. "You are not to go back there, do you hear me?"
"But…"
"Do. You. Understand?" Her question was more of a demand; her words were law. Timothy looked down at his feet and sighed.
"Yes, ma'am."
She considered him a moment, and her stern expression softened slightly.
"Alright then, go help your sister set the table. Dinner's soon."
Timothy didn't look up as he walked out of the bathroom and silently helped Kalina. She sensed that he was in trouble and didn't say a word, although giving him sideward glances every other minute. He ignored her, looking up at his mother who had walked out of the bathroom to face his father. His expression toward her was that of question and concern, and Timothy's mother sighed and shook her head, brushing past him to go into her old bedroom. He followed, and Timothy watched them disappear. What was it that his mother had against the woods? Why would she be so upset about him going there and not his grandfather, who suggested he go to the woods in the first place? His parents didn't come out of the room until Timothy, Kalina, and their grandparents were already seated and ready to eat. In silence, they ate; his mother's expression was indifferent.
Hey,
Today after school, I accidentally wound up in the woods that are off the path leading to home. I've always heard stories at school that some primitive magical people live in there and that they put a body bind spell on you and take your heads off with a hex. Mom says they're only stories; myths and legends. So, I thought I'd see if it was true when I found myself in the woods today. You won't believe it, but I think I saw someone in the bushes! Well, I was so scared that I ran out and down the path faster than a Cleansweep 7! If it was one of those magical people, I sure didn't want my head to be hexed off! I tried to tell mom and dad that I saw one of the primitive magical people, but they were convinced that it must have been someone from school playing a trick on me. Well, if it was, they sure got me good. Yet, you won't find me back in those woods again… just in case.
"What'cha up to?"
Timothy jumped, quickly shoving his uncle's diary he was reading before bed back under his pillow and turned around. His grandfather stood in the doorway, a look of apology on his face.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
"Oh, don't worry, I was just… just er…" Timothy didn't know if he should tell him… or anyone for that matter… that he was reading his dead uncle's diary. Instead, he twiddled his thumbs and looked about for an excuse.
"I just wanted to apologize. I feel responsible for this afternoon." His grandfather continued without Timothy's explanation.
"Responsible for what?" Timothy asked blankly, but then it dawned on him. "Oh… no, it was my fault. I should have gone into the village instead of the woods."
"Nah… if I hadn't of suggested it you wouldn't have gone, you're too smart to have gone in if you thought it wasn't allowed. I didn't realize how your mother would react… it is dangerous there, especially these days." His grandfather walked in and patted Timothy's shoulder.
"Granddad? Why was she so upset? Dad wasn't even mad." Timothy asked him as his grandfather walked out. He turned around and frowned with thought, then shook his head and sighed.
"Well… she's just worried about her children, that's all. Sometimes the maternal instinct causes her to beat herself up if she thinks she slipped up in protecting you and your sister. Like I said, these are not friendly times anymore, and you shouldn't be out on your own. As for your dad, perhaps he thought you had enough reprimand from your mother." After a moment's pause, he smiled, muttered "good night" and left just as Kalina walked in.
"What?" Timothy asked his sister sharply after she stopped to stare at him before getting in bed. She flinched at his tone.
"Nothing. Goodnight." Sounding hurt, Kalina didn't waste time getting into her cot and turning over. Timothy sighed, bringing the diary back out and looking at the cover.
"Sorry." He muttered, shoving the diary back under his pillow and he blew out the candles.
Maybe what I saw is what mum's all upset about. Perhaps those people actually do exist? Timothy thought as he drifted off to sleep.
"Timothy, come on! You can write to Darian later!"
Hot and annoyed, Timothy touched his glasses, instantly turning them tinted. He packed up the letter he was writing and hurried to catch up with his family. It was the following day and they were spending the afternoon in Cocoa Beach. Timothy was eager to write to Darian and John, telling them about what he possibly had seen in the woods the day before. Unfortunately, there wasn't time to write before his family left for the beach, and he resorted to writing them while he was there.
"There's a neat wizarding restaurant right on the beach, disguised as a dune patch. You can write your letters there… but for now, come on! We're here to spend time together!" His mother put her arms around him as he caught up. Kalina was sitting on their father's shoulders in front of them.
"Kalina… you're too heavy… it's hot…" He moaned.
"C'mon daddy! I'm too hot to walk." She whined back.
"You two wouldn't survive one month living here. This is normal from March through October." Timothy's mother laughed, hugging him to her side as they walked. He had a feeling she felt bad for yesterday… he wasn't really upset at all at her… there was a reason for it.
"I don't know how you did it, Renee. This is brutal! Are we there yet?" His father panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Umm… yeah, I think so. I think that's it." She pointed over to a dune patch, completely free of sunbathing tourists. It must have had warding spells around the area to keep Muggles away. Sure enough, as they approached, a very large hut became visible. Wizards and witches all dressed in the typical Florida garb sat at tables laughing and shelling chilled shrimp.
"Oh mannn… how I miss this. Shrimp heaven!" His mother clapped her hands
"Lemmie guess what we're having for lunch." His father rolled his eyes, smiling and letting Kalina down.
"I have to show my children the fine art of shelling a shrimp. It's not a simple task. Why else would they give you the option of doing it for you?" She ran ahead of them to get a table. His father sighed and looked down at Timothy and Kalina.
"If there's one thing Floridians are famous for, it's shelling shrimp. Your mum is no exception you know."
Sure enough, once seated, Timothy's mother ordered the largest bucket of freshly chilled shrimp and began the arduous process of peeling the clear shell off. Both Kalina and their father became determinedly engrossed on following her expertise, but Timothy was more interested in finishing his letters. Loosing his appetite as he saw a tray of eels being carried to the next table, Timothy gathered his parchment and quill and excused himself.
"Don't be too long… the shrimp won't last forever!" His mother called after him, professionally squeezing a shrimp's tail and sucking every last bit of meat out.
Walking out to where a bunch of hammocks were hung, Timothy decided to indulge himself in beach living and sat down in one. Before long, he was rocking back and forth, finishing up his letter to Darian and beginning one to John.
"Hey!"
Timothy turned around with effort in the netted swing and saw a blonde girl about his age, dressed in a bikini top and Capri shorts.
"You're sitting in it wrong." She pointed at him.
He looked at her blankly.
"How can you sit in a hammock wrong?"
"Tourists," She rolled her eyes. "You lay down in a hammock; it's not a swing."
"Oh." He shrugged, turning back to his letter. As he re-read it, Timothy got a fleeting idea.
"Er… hey!" He called at the girl, who was going back inside the restaurant.
"'Sup?" She put her hands on her hips, turning back to him.
"Umm… you wouldn't know anything about myths around here, would you?" He bit his lip. This girl was obviously local and bumbling tourists appeared to phase her.
It was her turn to blink at him.
"Myths? Like what?"
"Magical people who live out in the wilderness; primitive like." He said, struggling to get out of the hammock to face her properly.
She looked puzzled a minute, then realization dawned on her.
"Oh! You mean the cavemen wizards!"
"Cavemen wizards?" Timothy ran his hand through his hair, which was filled with sand from the blowing wind.
"Well, it's really the only myth we have. Florida has beaches, not Loch Ness Monsters." She crossed her arms.
"Actually, there is such a thing as the Loch Ness Monster. My dad took me to see it one time when I was little." He pointed out.
"Figures, you obviously being from the UK." The girl tossed her hair absentmindedly while staring at her shuffling feet in the sand. Timothy began to lose patience.
"Well? What about these cavemen wizards?"
She shrugged.
"Well, people say that these Indian-type folk hang out in the forests. They use magic from nature, I think. No one's ever seen one, and lived! They say they can capture your soul and sell it pirates on the West Coast."
"Sell it to pirates?" He cocked his head with raised eyebrows, disbelieving.
"It's what I heard… then again, aren't all myths tall tales? I also heard they run around naked."
"Well that's helpful," Timothy sighed sarcastically. "I'll just look out for some streaking magical Indians and I'm all set!"
The girl laughed at him.
"Why do you want to know anyway? I've heard that they don't hang around the coast, that big Muggle contraption that goes off into space every other month or so keeps them away."
"I'm visiting my grandparents. They live about an hour inland. There's some woods by their house and I've heard something about people in there… but I haven't heard a full story." He didn't think he should mention that he thought he saw one of these "cavemen wizards".
"Well, good luck then." The girl flashed a brief half-bored smile and went back inside. Timothy looked back out at the ocean; the girl wasn't that much help at all. He made up his mind that he had to go back… something about the way his mother reacted to him being there puzzled him. If it was all just tall tales, and his mother was intelligent enough not to believe, why would she be so upset? As he headed back inside, Timothy also thought it would be wise to search his uncle's diary for any more entries about the woods. Perhaps that would help him.
"Timothy, you've missed half the bucket!" His mother called out to him as he sat down.
"So have we… you're a lot faster than us. We peel one shrimp for every one of your three!" His father said, helping Kalina gather the edible pieces of a shrimp she had destroyed in the process of peeling it.
"Practice makes perfect you know." She smiled at them. When she turned to Timothy again, she noticed that he wasn't eating but lost in thought. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," He replied quickly, picking up a shrimp and studying it. "Just unraveling a mystery."
Out of the corner of his eye, Timothy could see his mother watching him closely. Her expression was hard to read, especially when she stole a glance at his father who wore an equal look.
Honestly telling the truth, Timothy announced shortly after getting back to his grandparents' house that he was tired and wanted to go to bed early. No one objected, and he retreated to his uncle's old room with eagerness to consult the diary. Making sure that the door was closed, he brought it out from his hiding place and flipped through the pages. For a old little leather-bound book, it had a lot of pages that spanned years. He stopped at one entry that his uncle wrote when he was 17-
Dear Diary
My little sister, Renee, is a real handful. Mom has me babysitting her nearly every chance that I've got. She loves to go outside and play, which is fine by me. I fly my broom while she runs around trying to catch me. It's really funny! However, Renee has this uncanny ability to walk off without me knowing. For the third time this week, I found her in the woods. If mom ever finds out, she'll roast me, toast me, and burn me to a crisp with two shakes and a wave of her wand before I could say "Oops". Renee finds this very amusing…
Timothy was getting somewhere. He skipped a more pages and read another entry a year later-
Dear Diary
I caught five-year old Renee out in the woods again. She's convinced that she's found a kid to play with in there… but I haven't seen anything move in those freaky woods since that day when I was twelve. Renee doesn't understand why I flip out when I find her there… and she still goes back. It's a wonder she hasn't mentioned anything to mom or dad; I certainly haven't! Nor do I plan to. If there's one thing more than keeping my own hide out of trouble… it's keeping my little sister safe.
Bingo. There it was, Timothy read the article more closely again. "She's convinced that she's found a kid to play with in there." His uncle wanted to keep her safe. Perhaps this "kid" was one of those "cavemen wizards". Maybe something happened that scared her and she won't go back. But then, why was the pencil so far inside the woods? Certainly a five-year old couldn't reach that far without his uncle noticing. Could she have continued going back? Timothy decided to read some more. He found another entry a few months after the previous one. The first part said nothing, but as he read on, he found some more about his mother:
…I'll be starting my job for the government tomorrow, and I'm afraid that Renee will be on her own. She hasn't mentioned anything more about the "boy in the woods", nor have I found her there. Then again, I'm not outside much at all anymore. She goes out by herself. Renee's pretty bright for her age, and I trust her that she knows what she's doing. So, I no longer pester her about staying away from the woods. However, if I hear or see anything that harms her, you can bet I'll be marching through those woods to give whomever a good hex!
That was it. His uncle didn't mention anything more about his mother and the woods. He sighed out loud, closing the worn diary and yawning. Just as he was stuffing the diary back under his pillow, the door swung open. His father came in carrying Kalina, fast asleep in his arms. He smiled at Timothy as he placed her gently onto the cot. Timothy's mother came in shortly and got Kalina undressed and into a nightgown. She smiled at him too, coming over to tuck him in. Gratefully, he snuggled under the cool sheets, suddenly realizing how hot his skin was. His mother clucked softly.
"And you had sunscreen on too." She whispered. "I think your grandmother still has some aloe potion somewhere. First thing when you wake up, I'll put some on you."
They said prayers and said goodnight. As Timothy watched his mother blow out the candles and closed the door behind her as she left, he couldn't help wondering what it was that his mother feared about the woods. For now, the mission to find the family crest was forgotten for the first time that summer. His mission now was to find his mother's secret fear.
A/N: If you've read "A Day Without Rain" and think you know what Renee's deal is with the woods, you're right! However, there's more to it with Timothy's venture. So, the next chapter should be rather interesting for you! Also, I have a lot more interesting and exciting things planned for chapter 3, so that's not all.
So, with this chaptering system, you'll get an authoralert when I update "Shadows of Yesterday" with a new chapter. It will no longer say the chapter #, just the name of the story. So heads up! That's the only part I don't like... it's hard to tell when they've had a chapter added. Oh well.
Renee's site will keep you posted! I update it all the time, you know.
http://www.theworldofreneepotter.disneyfansites.com
And thank you for your encouragement on the Preamble. However I have been incredibly stupid and just realized that it must be memorized by Monday. So, guess what I'll be doing all weekend! As for chapter 3, look for it by next friday! Or... just click ahead to chap. 3... if you're reading this after 2/9/01.
~OrcaPotter :-)