Her Time. Chapter Two: Leader of the Flight

I'm sharing another Progressive Story Project post today. Just as a reminder, this is the 8th time a group of bloggers have joined together to write a piece of fiction. We all contribute to the story, each building on the segments written by the others. Above and to the far right of each section, I've listed the name and a link to the blog of the author of that piece of the story.

One week ago I posted the first chapter of our newest story, Her Time. Today's post is chapter two of Her Time. If you haven't already done so, be sure to read:
Her Time. Chapter One: Out of Focus

Her Time
Chapter Two: Leader of the Flight

Dawn of Spatulas on Parade

Michael stood over Camryn praying she'd open her eyes. The test revealed nothing. The doctors were completely stumped. Just that she had been deposited at the ED three nights ago.

Scratching his head, Michael said, "where were you, why were you out at night and in the rain? Oh how I wish you'd open your eyes and answer me." 

At that moment a young girl walked in. "How's our leader doing?" Startled, Michael said "uh um, what, who are you referring to?"

She smiled and disappeared. Damn, he needed sleep. He was hallucinating, or was he? He could smell a faint perfume or soap, it felt familiar yet strange.

Camryn moaned and said "flight". Michael patted her hand, her face, but no response. He rang for the nurse. Upon arrival he told her all that had transpired in the last thirty minutes. She nodded and said "it's almost time" and was gone.

"Almost time for what? What are you people talking about?" Michael almost screamed down the hall, and then his phone went DING. Damn, a text, now what?

It read . . . "meet me on 23rd street at midnight and all will be revealed. Be prepared to take flight."

What the???

Camryn stirred again. "Flight." "Leader." "Get ready."

He was so confused.

Thunder struck and she jumped almost off the bed. Camryn sat up. Looked around the dark room. She let out a sigh of relief. Michael lay next to her, the dog at the foot of the bed. Man, what a crazy dream.

She laid back down and her phone said DING. She was hesitant but picked it up. The text read . . . "We are ready leader. Flight."

She almost passed out. Holy crap! maybe it wasn't a dream. What the hell was going on? She was scad and exhilarated at the same time.

This was her path. Her passion had come to her. Her reason for being. She was to be the leader of Flight, whatever that meant.

Pepperoni Pizza Casserole

Jenniy of Climaxed

She couldn't sleep. She knew it was a fruitless endeavor as soon as she read the text. She felt electric. Alive. She hadn't felt this way in so long . . . maybe ever? She leaned her head back on the pillow looking over at the lump that was her sleeping husband and listening to the dog snore. It wasn't that she hadn't been happy before. She loved Michael. She loved their life together. But now? Now she had this mystery to solve, this purpose that hadn't been there. And how would she ever explain it to him without sounding like she was losing her mind? She knew that wasn't true; she wasn't crazy. She could feel in every fiber of her being that whatever this Flight was, it was hers. It was her past, present, and future rolled into one, and now she just had to figure out exactly what it all meant.

She got up from him quietly and called for the dog. No reason to call, really. Shelby was her baby and always had been from the minute they'd seen her in the shelter. They had a connection that was truly unexplainable. So before she could even get her name out, the dog was at her heels ready for whatever adventure lay ahead. 

She and Shelby padded quietly into the kitchen to start some coffee and make some kind of plan.

Going through the motions helped her think. Camryn could probably make herself a cup of coffee in her sleep and probably had when the kids were younger and she had run solely on hope and caffeine. There were many long nights she couldn't recall having done it at all and still found herself sipping and thinking and daydreaming while she rocked and played and prayed for a long nap later.

Two spoonfuls of sugar and more creamer than most would find respectable.

While she stirred and waited for the nectar of the gods to cool off enough to keep from burning her tongue, she had a thought. She still had some of her great grandmother's things in the attic, things that looked too old and too important to throw away when her mother had helped clean out GG's house to sell and had been passed on to Camryn when her mother died a couple years ago. There were always stories about GG . . . family stories, whispers at family reunions, things only talked  about when there had been too much drink or when someone was beyond other kinds of help.

She'd never really gotten to know her GG, Eloise. Not the way she wanted when she heard the tall tales and whispered secrets. If any place was a good start to find answers, it was in Eloise's things.

She looked up to find Shelby waiting for her underneath the pull cord to the attic by the laundry room . . . that dog always knew what she was thinking. 

Lydia of Cluttered Genius

 Camryn slowly ascended the ladder trying hard to not make any extra noise that might wake Michael. Every creak or groan of the old wood made her cringe. Shelby whined as she watched Camryn go further and further away.

Once in the attic, Camryn wiped cobwebs and dust off of the old trunk that lay in front of her. This was GG's, and it was the one piece she didn't really inspect when they'd brought things home from her mother's. Perhaps an answer was inside.

Fumbling with the front clasp caused her to slice her thumb on the metal. She gasped at the pain and quickly investigated the damage. Blood rose to the surface quickly, so Camryn tucked her thumb into the rest of the hands' fingers to try to stem the flow.

Carefully, and trying to stay as quiet as possible, she lifted the lid of the trunk. Once open, she was confused. The trunk was empty. Surely they didn't transport this heavy furniture all the way up the stairs without it having anything in it besides dust?

She reached her hand down toward the bottom, hoping that maybe it was just so dark she couldn't see. It was deeper than she expected, so she had to let go of her thumb on the opposite hand to steady herself on the side.

What Camryn didn't realize is that with that movement of her injured thumb, two drops of blood fell into the empty trunk.

Suddenly, the ladder to the attic folded up on its own, and the door slammed shut. Camryn was stuck in the dark and wildly began looking around trying to find her footing

She stumbled a few steps back toward the attic opening. As she reached for the folded ladder, light began to glow behind her. Slowly, Camryn turned around.

Jules of The Bergham Chronicles

The once empty chest was lit up with the most peaceful glow she had ever seen. A warm comfort washed over her. On one hand, she knew she should be terrified and most likely should be running away quickly, or at the very least crying out for Michael's help.

Instead, she slowly walked towards the chest, allowing the warm glow to envelope her. She soon stood face to face with a figure she recognized. She had never met the woman who stood before her in person, but she'd seen plenty of photographs, and two paintings of the beautiful woman adorned her study's walls. She knew from family history, passed down from generation to generation, that this was her great, great grandmother. Hyacinth Forsight.

Her memory of the stories her mother had told her had started to fade in recent years, but she knew that Hyacinth had died at a fairly young age. She had married the richest man in their village, and after he died of an illness, she had gone on to raise her children and run her late husband's company.

In that time people could not believe a woman was capable of successfully managing a company, and when she refused to marry any of the suitors who called on her, it was decided she was a witch, using magic to gain success. She fought against her accusers, but was ultimately burned at the stake.

So, how is she here, in my attic, all these decades later?

Hyacinth smiled warmly, her eyes glowing with an almost palpable love. "Come here my child," she said holding out her hand. "Come with me, and Ill tell you everything you need to know, for the task ahead of you is important."

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Click here to read chapter three, Take Off ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Pepperoni Pizza Casserole         
                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
3 packages (about 5 oz each) large Italian flavored croutons
1 1/2 cups marinara sauce, store bought or homemade. My Homemade Marinara recipe HERE
1 3/4 cups shredded mozarella, divided
1/2 cup chopped provolone
2 TBSP grated parmesan
1/4 green pepper, chopped
1 cup sliced mushrooms
3/4 cup pepperoni slices
1/2 tsp Italian seasoning 

Additional warm marinara sauce for serving

Directions:
*Grease a 3 qt round casserole dish. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
*Mix together the croutons, marinara, 1 1/4 cups mozarella, provolone, parmesan, mushrooms, green pepper and pepperoni slices. Pour into the casserole dish and spread evenly. 
*Top the casserole with the remaining mozarella cheese. Sprinkle with the Italian seasoning. Bake for 25 minutes, tent tin foil over the top and bake for another 20 minutes.
*Serve with additional warm marinara sauce.