Prologue--
She liked the island. Here time ran in circles without ever getting anywhere; the tides, the summer tourists, the cold weather, the moon-- it all came in cycles but never changed. Closing in to forty she had begun to appreciate that sort of timelessness too early in life.
The other inhabitants of the permanent dwelling section of the beach were senior citizens too and she must have looked ridiculous with them but they really were her people, even if she was the only one who knew it. They toddled to the sheltered coves of the beach to do water aerobics and put pictures of smiling grandchildren on their mantles and except for that, she was one of them. She was certainly as crippled as they were but her pain wasn't of the body, not yet anyway. In another forty years her body would start to show what she could only wait for now, wrinkles would sprout on her brow and her body would begin to stink sincerely of death as it didn't now.
She worked at a local bar and liked it. It was a nice place full of people who knew each other's name. No tourists came here because you couldn't get a dance in a grass skirt and a blended tropical drink but the people who did come were friendly enough for a good chat but not nosey enough to ask questions. That was another thing she had learned to appreciate prematurely.
She had stopped using magic. She kept her wand in her bedside table, where some people keep their firearms, but it was a bad situation indeed that required her to go get it. Magic was too easy for her these days. Magic took the simple, sedating edge off of household chores she liked so much. Magic, she knew, only brought trouble.
But sometimes when the surf was right she slept right on the beach in her sleeping bag, looking up at the stars, trying to get so lost in the vastness of the sky she never came back. Sometimes she stayed underwater until she almost passed out because underwater she could pretend she was anywhere, that when she broke the surface it would be twenty years ago and she'd have a chance to do things differently. Sometimes she saw faces of people she once knew in the crowd so clearly that she stopped, her breath completely still in her lungs.
Sometimes she thought about him.
She liked all this about the Island but what she liked most was that it really was an island. No one she knew lived there, nothing was familiar and it took time for news to drift over from other places. She was isolated here and everything that had been so sharp and painful in the harsh English rain was lessened to dull throbs in the Caribbean sun.
Tonight she would sleep in her hammock with the stray cat she had found years ago curled on her chest. Tonight she would listen to old music and dance on the rough planks of her deck. Tonight she would eat her favorite dinner, fall asleep in her favorite dress and use her 'special occasion' bath salts. Tonight she would think about the past and wonder when it all started.
Chapter 1—In which Ava goes to London
Saturday, August, 21st, 4: 9:50 (AM), somewhere over the England, Twix bars consumed: 10 (five if you count the two in the package as one), nervous thoughts about engine failure: 34, people I can hear snoring: 6, hopeful thoughts: none,
My therapist Maggie Chang says that this journal will help me crystallize my thoughts, work through my pain and keep track of my progress. Maggie Chang says a lot of things like that and I usually never listen. Still Mrs. Evans put this pretty blue leather bound book in my hand just as she hugged me goodbye this morning in the airport and it seems an awful shame not to use it. Besides, Maggie Chang might be right this time, she is after all the one with a Ph.D. in how I feel and it's not like I've got anything better to try right?
So here goes: Today is the forty first day since my mom's car spun out on a wet road and across the double yellow line, the fortieth since my sister Penny died in the hospital and the thirtieth since her funeral. Today is also the second full moon this month, my seventeenth birthday and the day King George the III proclaimed the colonies to be in rebellion in 1775. And the day I fly to London to live with my father.
That is so cold of me to write that in that manner, cramming Penny's death in with a bunch of other random facts, but it's the only way to get it out these days. Also it is a pretty important day for me I think, even if seventeen is a classically ignored birthday and even more neglected than it would have been if all this other stuff hadn't been happening. In fact this journal is my sole birthday present so far. Even Lily forgot in all the uproar and she never forgets anything.
Maybe I should take a leaf from his book, King George's I mean and at least just come to terms with reality, if I can like or accept it yet. So far all I've really done to morn is lie on Mrs. Evans couch in a stupor and let Lily worry herself into a frenzy over me. It's been over a month and the only thing I've done with regularity is visit mom in the hospital but even then all I do is sit in the one chair in her room and listen to her cry. I felt all right around the time of the funeral, the activity did me good even if the relatives and comfort food did not, but I've sunk back a little bit since then.
Maggie Chang says that I'm coping with the pain well but she's subscribed me so many drugs I can't believe her. I mostly flush those down the toilet, they just make me feel like I can't use my limbs properly. Lily says I'm very brave and so does Mrs. Evans but what is so brave about just surviving Penny's death I'm not sure.
No, that's not right, I feel very brave. I've had to do all the adult things mom would have done if she hadn't been in the hospital. It was me who had to go the morgue to identify her body, me who had to pick out coffins and flowers and call all the relatives. I didn't even cry during the funeral, only screamed a little bit and ran out when the priest started saying all this phony stuff about Penny being happy with God. Penny would have hated that. She loved life; she wouldn't have wanted to leave, not for all the Gods in the world.
Also I think it is brave of me to be changing cities. Mr. and Mrs. Evans said I could stay with them while mom's in the hospital (which the doctors say could be indefinitely) if I wanted but I couldn't impose. I feel bad about imposing on David (my father) too but he's a fancy lawyer so he can afford it and I have made a promise to myself that I won't be any sort of problem for him. Which I guess is just one more reason for me to stop sulking. Still, sulking is something of a habit now and very hard to break.
I must think of King George and be strong.
Today I declare my colonies in open rebellion.
Tuesday, August, 24th, 2:40(PM), David's posh apartment in London, sentences passed between David and me: 1 and 1/2, nice things Karen (David's American girlfriend) has said about my looks/clothes/intelligence: 29, nice things I've said back in a sincere, sweet way: 0, nice things I've said back in a tired, half-hearted way: 3,
Today I feel tired. Maggie Chang says I should start off every journal entry with a statement of how I feel and as long as I'm taking her advice I might as well take all of it.
Vow about forsaking sulkage proving difficult to keep. I have started eight different letters to Lily and had the energy to finish none of them. I feel terrible for Karen and David, really I do. Not only do they have to put up with a sulky teenager moping around their house for another eight days but they're both muggles and Karen didn't even know of the existence of magic until David told her two weeks ago when it was finalized I was coming to live with them.
They are taking it, especially Karen, remarkably well. She didn't even flinch when the owl post arrived this morning with my Hogwarts letter. Well she flinched but and gave a little shout of surprise but made a valiant effort towards calming down when I explained that it was normal. "This is how...how people like me send mail." I told her shyly, taking the letter from the owl and giving him the rest of my bacon as thanks.
"Witches and wizards you mean?" She said, almost defiantly.
I liked her style in that moment. I liked how she took my temporization and just charged right into the thick of what must be a very tender issue for her. "Yeah," I said, "this is my school supply list. They send these every year so I know which books and supplies to get."
"May I see it please Ava?" She asked and took it gingerly. She stared at it for about five minutes in silence and then finally said with not a little bit of humor, "well I'm not sure exactly where we'll get frogspawn or a dragonshide gloves but we'll manage somehow."
More points, big points for Karen, I thought.
She really is perfect for David. He's very quiet, not at all sure of himself, but also a nice guy I think. He treats Karen with enormous tenderness and she seems to be the bridge between him and the rest of the world. I wonder how long they've been together, it seems like it must be since the dawn of the time the way they get out but he and mom divorced when I was about six months old so it can be longer than sixteen years. She's brave too in her own has-enough-shoes-to-give-Imelda-Marcos-a run-for-her-money way.
I shrugged. "I know where it is. I can go tomorrow."
Karen looked slightly hurt. "Oh, okay." She said. "Do you think three hundred pounds would be enough?" That's like six times what I usually spend.
I gaped at her.
Karen blushed, "I could run to the bank tomorrow if it's not enough, no problem."
I shook my head. "No, I don't need that much really Karen." I said.
"Oh right." She said and we lapsed into silence.
I felt like somehow I had slighted or hurt her and it took me like half an hour of silence to figure out what it could have possibly been. "Hey Karen you know you're invited to come to Diagon Alley with me if you want right?" I said finally.
She perked up instantly. "Really? I mean I don't want to tag along if you want to go alone. I mean I remember when I was a teenager I hated it when the old folks tried to come with me and my friends..." She trailed off into a pleading look.
"No it's okay if you want to come." I said. "Honestly."
So there's something I'll eventually have to do, which is a good thing. I think.
Later, my room in David's house,
Today I feel homesick.
Letter from Lily:
Dear Ava,
I miss you so much. I promised myself I wouldn't say that as you must be pretty tired to emotional stuff but every time I think about everything between us, all the space and countryside instead of just a few houses, I feel like my knees are just going to fall through. I gave Merlin a big hug before I gave him the letter, maybe you could do that now and it would be like a trans-England hug. What is David like? What is London like? How are you feeling? Mom is wigging out that you won't be getting enough comfort food and I want to ask you a thousand questions but I wont. I know you want to hear what's happening over here so here it is: nothing. Krissy and Kevin broke up again, Todd almost asked Allison Cooper out again and Will got stupid drunk and jumped off the roof of his house...again. But you'll hear about all that at school. I miss you so much, there now I've broken my promise twice.
I love you, I love you, I love you,
Lily
P.S. Will isn't permanently maimed
Letter to Lily:
Dear Lily,
I miss you so much. I gave Merlin a hug and a big kiss on top of his head so you can rub you cheek there if you want. David is very quiet but nice and he and his girlfriend Karen are really doing all they can to make me feel comfortable. I went into David's office yesterday looking for a rubber band and found a couple of my school pictures framed on his desk. It was weird, I didn't even know mom sent him my school pictures, much like that he would frame them. I can't say how England is because I really only walked through the train station so far, which we do every year anyway. I'll tell you more when I know more. I am fine (but as you would say that always stands for Fucked-up Insecure Neurotic and Emotional). I wake up in the morning and I don't know where I am. It takes me a few moments to remember how I got here and then it's like I'm hearing it all over again. Tell your mom that I'm getting enough food and thanks for the update, I just wish I had something interesting to tell you.
I love you back times six,
Ava
P.S. How's mom doing?
Friday, August, 27th, 9:12(PM), my room in David's house, new robes: 11, new books: 6, new shoes: 5, pounds of chocolate consumed: countless, pounds sterling spent: more than I want to think about, Karen's happiness (as a percent of one hundred): 99,
Today I feel shopped out.
The shopping had to be postponed until today because things kept coming up. First there was a crisis at Karen's work and then I fell into a bout of moping and couldn't be torn away from the party sized bags of crisps and Dawson's Creek marathon and...well let's just say that it got postponed. But what our shopping date lacked in punctuality it made up in sheer magnitude.
It took ten shopping bags to get all our purchases back. Ten shopping bags! I could pretend to be horrified but it would really be a lie. I am almost as pleased as Karen with my new purchases. Karen might not be a witch in the sense that I am but she definitely has some magic where shopping is concerned. She managed to find me robes that look great on me, no small order as I've lost weight recently and haven't washed my hair in about three days.
Karen was at her most impressive today and not only with the shopping. When I pointed the dingy entrance of the Leaky Cauldron out to her (she had completely missed it though it was hugely conspicuous between the two super stores) she didn't pause. Nor did she flinch when the brick wall opened itself onto Diagon Alley and the bustle of people in black robes, which she moved through in her stylish pale pink sundress like she absolutely belonged there. I had worn muggle clothes in solidarity with her and despite the fact I was prepared for the wizarding world I felt self-conscious about my appearance.
I wish I could think of a way to thank her for how great she's being. And she's very careful to come across as a friend to me, not a surrogate mother, which I also appreciate. She asked me if I had a boyfriend and about all my friends back in the Liverpool and really listened to what I said. And when she ordered wine with her lunch she asked if I wanted some too. "I obviously can't break any of David's rules," she said when I gaped at her, "but he hasn't stated a ban on alcohol yet so it's fine with me if you would like a glass." She paused then and said very lightly, but very meaningfully, "I don't make the rules where you're concerned."
I could have hugged her then if I didn't feel like crying for some reason at the sweet understanding. She reminded me so much of Lily, who always knew just how to make me feel comfortable, just then I had to wolf down some salad and water before I could speak properly.
After we had bought robes and shoes Karen and I decided to split up. She very graciously offered to get my new books and potion supplies while I walked up farther to get a replacement pet for my cat Allison, who had met a feral tomcat in the woods by my uncle's house in Wales when we visited last Christmas and had never come back to me.
I suppose I can't blame Allison, who had been left by the side of the road as a kitten and spent in her formative years raised by the vegan hippie two doors down from us before she came to me, for going a little crazy when she countryside for the first time. She must have known something was missing all those years of peeing where we decided, and eating dry little kernels or patties of blended fish guts if mom or I remembered to get them from the store. But still, she was on my mind as I made my way up to the pet store and it made me a little sad as I pushed the door open, knowing that I was in effect replacing her.
Inside the pet store however was wonderful. It had that hamster smell but in a good way and I was the only one in the shop, even the owner was in the back, so I didn't feel guilty about opening the cages and sticking my fingers in. The kittens were wonderful, soft little fluffs just barely separated from their mother but sighing I forsook them too. I saw mini Allisons in all of them, discontented with their cages and aching to get out.
I knew that only owls, cats or toads would be acceptable but I found that I didn't head to the amphibian section of the shop right away, but instead to the exotic section. There were a few baby sphinxes lounging lazily, one or two pixies and even a baby unicorn. I had a box of cracker jacks in my backpack and I managed to tempt the unicorn over with a handful or two.
I was still feeding him when the door opened, the bell jingling merrily. My new friend skittered to the back of his pen at the unexpected noise. I turned with annoyance to see who it was and was able to make out through a wall of fish tanks three shapes but not who they were. "...should have seen the look on Mrs. Potter's face when she found out it was James all along. It was priceless! So worth him being grounded." One was saying.
Oh good lord, I thought.
Of course I knew that voice. Everyone in the bloody school knew that voice.
Though if I ever voiced this opinion aloud I would probably be shunned from female society for the rest of my life, I do not find Sirius Black attractive. Yes, he is handsome with his black hair that's casual and sexy, his eyes that are blue like you usually only see in Technicolor Bing Crosby movies and how he's tall and broad. But that's just it; I don't like him because he is so sexy. I don't like how women seem to bend around him so that everything done in his presence is done for his benefit. Voices get louder, old stories of funny, funky things are brought up and spread grotesquely for his perusal, and hair gets tossed. It makes me want to be mean to him just so he knows that not everyone turns into a bimbo for him.
"That's not very funny." Remus said but he looked amused. Peter just laughed dotingly.
Sirius moved toward the terrarium that housed the newborn puppies. He leaned in and grabbed one, lifting it high above it's peers onto the tile floor. "Oh for the love or Merlin," Remus sighed as his darker haired companion began to roll completely unabashedly around on the floor with the puppy, "I can't believe we come up here every time for this."
"Oh shove it Remus, we can hunt you up a nice vicious wolf after this if you want." His friend shot back.
I dumped my cracker jacks into the unicorn's trough and moved back toward the amphibian section. Unfortunately I had to cut right in front of them to do this. They had clearly thought they were alone in the shop but I moved quickly past without talking to or looking at them.
They watched me watch the frogs in the tank for a few minutes in silence before anyone spoke. "Why are you dressed like a muggle?" Sirius asked.
I didn't feel like explaining anything so complicated as my relationship to Karen and how I wanted to make her comfortable, especially not to someone like him. "Because I don't have enough rude questions in my life." I snapped back.
Maggie Chang says that I am a very confrontational person deep down. She says that I antagonize people on purpose when I'm sad or scared, just like how I used to work magic before I knew how to control it, except now it's the magic of pissing people off. This, of course, is ludicrous! I have been shy my whole life! But moments like this make me wonder.
"Sirius..." Remus said in a half pleading, half warning way.
But Sirius wasn't looking at the puppy anymore he was looking at me. Had he recognized me before I spoke? I'm not sure but if he hadn't I'm not sure how sarcasm made me more recognizable. Lily was always the one who was saying snappy clever things to him or James, I was the shy little tag along. But things are different now. I have less patience with life, I want more things now and I'm sick of people like Sirius and James just dismissing me.
"You're Avalon Eden aren't you." He said, "Lily Evan's friend." He said friend but he meant sidekick.
"You're Sirius black aren't you." I said. "James Potter's friend." And I said it like he had to make sure he knew I knew he knew I knew ect.
"So what brings you to the pet shop?" Remus asked conversationally, trying to ignore the dynamic rapidly developing between Sirius and I.
I shrugged. "My cat ran away. I need a new pet." I explained. "Have any suggestions?" I quite like Remus actually, though his taste in friends is almost tragic.
I looked pointedly at Remus when I asked but it was Sirius who answered. "Why not just get another cat? Or an owl like everyone else?" He seemed like he was enjoying himself now, trying to dig in and irk me as much as he could, and that in itself irked me the most.
I forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace (one outburst was enough for today) and grabbed one of the toads with the little net leaning against the side. He seemed surprised to be lifted out of his home and plunked into one of the sterile little ready-made mini homes next to the display. I felt bad for him but determined as I marched up to the counter and rung the bell to call the owner from the back. "Yes, sorry, how much is this?" I asked.
"Ten galleons including the tank and a starter care kit."
I extracted the proper amount and laid it on the counter. "Does he already have a name or anything?" I asked. The man shook his head and handed me a box labeled The Deluxe Toad Starter Kit for Beginners. The toad croaked wetly in his new home.
"Nice to see you Remus." And turned for the door, caring my perplexed new pet with me.
If David or Karen found my choice of pet odd they didn't say anything as I settled him into my room and I didn't mention what had happened while we were parted.
Sunday, August, 29th, 11:11(PM), my room in David's house, ideas for names for my toad: 4,
Today I feel listless.
Possible names for my toad:
1) Kermit (no way, too cliché)
2) James Potter (Lily's suggestion)
3) Sirius Black (my counter suggestion)
4) Professor Moriarty (he kind of looks like the type)
Also:
Letter from Maggie Chang (enclosed in my huge box of drugs for the month):
Ava,
When you wrote to tell me you're keeping a journal I was thrilled. You really are making enormous headway!
Maggie Chang
Author's note: Do something nice for someone else and write me a nice long review.