Boon: something to be thankful for; blessing; benefit
March 31, 1998
The trapdoor cracked open with a squeal of unused hinges, and yellow light skittered across the floor. The trapdoor thudded shut, then a second later was flung open with a loud thud that sent eddies of dust swirling in the dim starlight that slanted in through the window. Jenna Thomas hauled herself up the steep ladder and reached up a hand, scrabbling at the wall until she found the light switch and flicked it on.
There was a flicker as a few bare light bulbs sparked to life as though rubbing the sleep from their eyes, and then the somewhat-awry scene of a teenage boy's room that had been hastily straightened became visible.
Jenna straightened up, turning in a circle as though the walls were lined with priceless treasures rather than a few peeling posters and some crinkled sketches. A heavy oak trunk sat thick with dust at the end of the bed. A decade-old computer that had hardly been touched was shoved in the corner, its cord coiled on top of it.
Jenna collapsed on the bed and stared up at the rafters. She knew exactly what was missing from this room by just a glance. An old red rucksack from primary schooldays long-since past. All four sets of 'normal' clothes that fit in the top drawer of the small dresser. The bubblegum bank Jenna's dad had picked up at a specialty shop on one of his business trips and helped to fill with change. And the most important thing? Her brother.
Dean didn't spend a lot of time in this room, anyway. He wouldn't have been home now no matter what. Gone off to school or to Seamus's. But somehow, it had felt much, much emptier knowing only the places Dean wasn't.
There was a creak and Jenna sat up to see a pair of dark eyes peering at her from the trapdoor. Her little sister, Lindsey, crawled into the room and joined Jenna on the bed, staring at the sketches pinned to the wall. She reached up to touch an empty patch of plaster, thinking of the drawing that had been taken from there: two girls walking along a street in school uniforms, laughing, wild, dark hair streaming down their backs. Them, as their brother captured them.
Lindsey turned to her sister and was shocked to see tears gathering in her eyes. She reached out a small hand.
"But he's okay, Jen," she said softly. "Remember? He's okay."
Jenna nodded and dug in her pocket. A second later she produced a small, strange gold coin. "For now," she said, swallowing hard.
She cradled the coin in both her hands, the most valuable gift anybody had ever given to her and her family. Not the gold. The miniscule words that looked stamped in the metal, permanent, but which Jenna knew could change in an instant. Their last message read: D & L at safe house.
They might have traded their entire house for the blessing of that coin. But the worst day of Jenna's life by far would come in little over a month when the message stamped in gold was: We're fighting.
A/N: Some more about Dean Thomas's story. I quite like it, actually. And his sisters. I imagine them as 14 and 12 in this if anybody cares. It's not really relevant. Anyway. Reviews are lovely. A shout out to everyone who's dropped me a line. They're the most wonderful people on the planet! :)