Enchantment Read online

  Holly hunched a shoulder in a shrug. “Don’t know who I’d go with.”

  “What about Ricky? He seems nice.”

  Ricky was one of the guys she’d dated, one of the guys who had kissed her. Thinking about that, and then about being kissed by Ohlan, she knew she’d rather just stay home than go to prom with one of those guys.

  Maybe Ohlan could be her prom date. Trying to picture him dressed in a tux, in the middle of a high school dance, made her smile in amusement. Just wasn’t going to happen. She looked out the window again.

  It was midafternoon when the train pulled into the station at Chama. Holly wished they could drive home right away, but knew better than to suggest it. They walked over to the B&B, checked into their rooms, and then Mom wanted to go cruise Chama’s handful of shops before dinner. Most were touristy, but there was an antique shop that had enough pretties to keep Mom charmed for half an hour.

  Dad had made dinner reservations at the nicest restaurant in town. Holly did her best to be cheerful through the meal, chatting about the train ride, asking Dad about the pictures he’d taken. More and more her thoughts turned to Ohlan, and by the time they strolled back to the B&B she was missing him so much she turned down Dad’s challenge to a game of checkers.

  “Think I’ll read a bit before bed,” she said.

  Her folks wished her a good night, and she retired to her upstairs bedroom, which was small in a nice cozy way, filled with Victorian frou-frou. She pushed the lace curtains aside from the window overlooking the back yard. There was a pond down there, with a fountain trickling in the moonlight. She raised the old sash window and leaned her elbows on the windowsill, gazing down at the water.

  Did fountains have guardians? Probably not.

  Natural bodies of water had guardians, but she didn’t think man-made ones would. Did that mean Lake Mead didn’t have guardians? Or did the Colorado River’s guardian—or guardians—watch over it?

  She could spend her whole life visiting different bodies of water, learning about their guardians. She’d enjoy it, too. Her smile faded as she remembered Ohlan might not be there to share it with her. She wouldn’t want to do it without him.

  She closed the window and lay on the bed with her book, but couldn’t get into it. Too restless and lonely. At last she gave up, got ready for bed, and turned out the light.

  Lying on her back, she stared up at the dark ceiling. That made her more homesick than ever. She rolled over and closed her eyes, imagining Ohlan’s arms around her. As she slid into sleep she noticed him murmuring to her, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  ~

  An argument between birds outside her window woke her. Blinking, she sat up in bed and looked around the pretty, fluffy room, not remembering at first where she was. A framed picture of an old steam engine on the opposite wall reminded her—Chama. Train.

  She rolled out of bed and got dressed, stuffing her cinder-covered clothes from yesterday in the bottom of her backpack. Tried not to make too much noise going down the old wooden stairs.

  Dad was in the breakfast room, having coffee and reading a paper. He looked up with a smile as Holly came in.

  “Hey, there, early bird! How’d you sleep?”

  “OK,” she said, heading for the coffee urn on a sideboard where several trivets sat, waiting for breakfast to be set out. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Showering. She wanted to wash the cinders off.”

  Holly joined him at the table and they made morning chitchat. Several other guests drifted in, looked wistfully at the empty trivets, and helped themselves to coffee or tea.

  The host and hostess arrived, cheerful and brusque, and filled the sideboard with a big baking dish full of egg and cheese casserole, a tray of bacon, and a basket of fresh biscuits. Holly loaded up on all these plus orange juice to go with her coffee. She was halfway through it by the time Mom joined them.

  Much to Holly’s dismay, that set the tone for the day. Mom was in a mood to dawdle. After breakfast she wanted to walk through town again and look at the shops, even though most of them were closed.

  Dad preferred to go down to the rail station with his camera, and Holly went with him only because that sounded less boring than window-shopping. They wound up in a big warehouse watching repairs on one of the steam engines while Dad chatted with the train guys. He obviously wanted to stay in town to watch the day’s train depart at ten, so they wouldn’t be leaving for home before ten-thirty at the earliest. Holly resigned herself to another day without seeing Ohlan.

  They moved out to the platform to watch the engine come up from the railyard and couple up with its cars. The process seemed to take forever; everything moved at the speed of molasses, and there was lots of standing still in between moves.

  Finally the passengers started boarding. Dad strode up and down the tracks, looking for the best spot to take pictures. The engine sat puffing, already putting out cinders. Holly caught one on the sleeve of her blue shirt, where it made a black smear.

  Chama was definitely at its busiest when the train was boarding. Traffic on the main street was at least double the usual. Holly was glad she didn’t have to drive in it.

  The train’s long whistle told her it was getting ready to leave. She liked the musical, deep-throated whistle and the way its sound rattled inside her. She’d remember that about this trip. Standing on the platform watching the passengers board, she was struck by how happy they all were. Excited kids, flirting couples. Everyone looking forward to the treat. Her own enjoyment of the ride had been shadowed.

  Seven days left. She was determined to spend a part of each of them with Ohlan.

  Maybe there would be more than seven. Seven days until the start of the rehabilitation project, but maybe she’d succeed in at least getting it delayed.

  The train whistle blasted through her musings. Long-long. Leaving station.

  She looked up and saw the train inching forward, smoke billowing from the stack. Kids waved from the windows and she waved back, smiling at their giddiness. She must have been like that the first time her family had come here.

  She turned to see her parents with their arms around each other’s waists, cuddling as they watched the train’s departure. Cinders blew past as the engine started up its long climb up the slope. They watched until it disappeared into the forest, then headed back to the B&B to pack up.

  Holly was packed and downstairs before her folks. She stepped out into the back yard to get a closer look at the pond. It was pretty, with water lilies blooming all around the fountain, which was shaped like a mermaid coming up out of the pond, water spilling from her upraised hands. Almost shyly, Holly peered into the water between the lily pads, looking for a spirit if there happened to be one. All she saw were goldfish that zipped away out of sight when she leaned too close.

  She stepped back, gazing at the pond and wondering what Ohlan would think of it. On impulse, she took out her camera and took a couple of pictures.

  She heard her parents’ voices from the parking lot, and hurried to join them. They were loading their bags into the trunk. Holly tossed her pack into the back seat, then gave her father a hug.

  “Thanks, Dad. This was great.”

  He leaned back to look at her. “Enough fun?”

  “Gobs.”

  She kissed his cheek, then hugged Mom, then hopped in the back seat. She sighed happily as Dad pulled out onto the main street. Finally headed for home.

  ~

  The first day of school was kind of fun. Holly didn’t have the feeling of dread—oh, no, another year of servitude—that usually kicked off the school year. It was good to see friends she’d been out of touch with over the summer, and interesting to be a senior at last. Didn’t feel as special as she’d expected.

  She sat with Debbie and Jen and some other friends at lunch, and had such a good time catching up that she totally spaced going to the library until the bell rang. Guilt made her jump out of her seat, but it was too late. She hurried
to her next class, feeling like she’d betrayed Ohlan.

  She’d get to the library and look up springs and geology tomorrow, she promised herself. Today after class she was going to the Forest Service office, and then if there was time she’d go up to see Ohlan.

  Classes were mostly fun. Algebra and Trigonometry was her least favorite; she had only signed up for it because she needed the credit to qualify for college. Everything else would be a breeze.

  Flyers posted in the hallways advertised the College Fair later in the week. Holly grimaced at one hanging near her locker, knowing her folks would drag her to the fair.

  After her last class she paused in the school lobby to look at the bulletin board where club meetings and such were posted. If she wanted to go to the spring every day after school, it might be a good idea to have some after school activities to talk about.

  Not that she wanted to lie to her folks. She hoped she wouldn’t have to.

  Most of the clubs that were organizing would only be meeting once a week, which wouldn’t work as a cover story. A screaming green flyer caught her eye: “Flight needs reporters! Help make your school paper the best in the state!”

  That might work. The paper came out every week, and the kids who worked on it spent a lot of time at it. Jen had done it for a semester last year, and it had eaten her after-school time every day.

  Holly jotted down the information, then got on her bike and rode downtown to the address she’d looked up for the Forest Service district office. It turned out to be in one of the old wartime buildings, maybe even the one Amanda had worked in. The interior walls were ancient cinder block covered with too many layers of paint. Holly found the Forest Service’s office at the end of the ground floor hallway.

  She let herself into the tiny reception area and waited for the attention of the woman behind the counter, a petite, plump lady with a short cap of silver hair and glasses, who was on the phone. Posters on the wall advertised the nearest parks; old pueblo ruins. Holly had crawled all over them with her family numerous times. Now she wondered about their sources of water, and whether the people there had known the water guardians.

  “Thank you for waiting,” said the receptionist. “How can I help you?”

  Holly took out her small spiral notebook, painfully aware that she hadn’t done any of the research she’d planned. She consulted her meager notes.

  “I’d like to speak to Mr. Drover, please.”

  The woman raised her eyebrows. “Do you have an appointment?”

  Holly felt her cheeks getting warm. “No. Do I need one?”

  The receptionist gazed at her for a minute, then folded her hands. “What do you want to speak to him about?”

  “The Enchantment Spring Trail restoration project.”

  “Maybe I can answer your questions.”

  Holly fought back a frown. “He’s in charge of the project, right? I’d really rather talk to him.”

  “I’m afraid he isn’t available right now. We do have this fact sheet.”

  The woman picked a flyer out of a rack of various handouts and held it out. Holly glanced over it, then handed it back.

  “This is all in the annual report. I want to talk to him about what’s happening with the project now.”

  “Well, I’m afraid—“

  The door behind her opened and a salt-and-pepper haired man in a ranger’s uniform came out, carrying a laptop case. “I’m on my way to that meeting, Helen. See you tomorrow.”

  Holly stepped toward the door to intercept him. “Mr. Drover?”

  He paused. “Yes?”

  She froze. Now what? Demand to talk to him now, when he had a meeting to get to?

  Holly stuck her hand out. “I’m Holly Parker. I’m writing an article for Flight about the Enchantment Springs Trail project.”

  The ranger’s eyes lit with interest. “Are you? Boy, that’s quick. Didn’t school just start today?”

  “Yeah. Could I talk with you a bit about the project?”

  “Afraid I don’t have time right now—I’m actually on my way to a meeting about that project.”

  “Oh. Could I come along?”

  “It isn’t a public meeting, I’m afraid. Tell you what—Helen, am I clear tomorrow at four?”

  The receptionist sighed and consulted her computer. “You have a three-thirty with Allan.”

  “Oh, that won’t take long.” He smiled at Holly. “If you’ll come back tomorrow at four, we can chat about it then.”

  “OK. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing.” His friendly smile lit up his face, and made Holly think he’d be a fun guide for hiking around the ruins. She watched him go, then looked at the receptionist, who was gazing at her like a dog guarding a bone. Holly grinned.

  “Guess I did need an appointment.”

  The receptionist softened as she turned to her computer. “Yes, you really do. He’s on the go a lot. What was your name?”

  “Holly Parker. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow at four.”

  Left with more time than she’d expected, Holly headed for the spring. It was actually good that she was going to talk with Mr. Drover tomorrow; she’d have a night to look some things up and get her arguments organized.

  As she biked across town her spirits rose, looking forward to seeing Ohlan. She had missed him a lot the last couple of days. Excitement started to curl around her heart.

  A new sign stood at the trailhead, a big black-and-white poster nailed to two wooden stakes, announcing that the trail would be closed for the renovation project starting in a week. Holly frowned as she parked her bike and walked past the sign on her way up the trail.

  The woodsy, pine-sharp smell of the forest made her forget her annoyance and filled her with happiness. She made a point of noticing the flowers blooming, the songs of the birds hidden in the branches, other rustlings made by critters she couldn’t see or only glimpsed. This walk was a transition from her human world to Ohlan’s world, and she had come to treasure it.

  As she came within sight of the spring she saw Ohlan standing beside it, smiling as he watched her approach. Her heart skipped and she lengthened her stride, sliding her heavy pack off her shoulders and dropping it on the ground as she reached him.

  “Holly!” He caught her in his arms, picked her up, and spun around, making her laugh.

  “Got more energy today, I see!”

  “There haven’t been many people on the trail.”

  He lowered her to her feet, then kissed her, sending her stomach into her shoes. Holly didn’t think about anything else for a couple of minutes, until he paused to move to the concrete coffin. They perched on the edge, arms around each other. Holly leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly.

  “There probably won’t be a lot of people on the trail this week,” she said. “They’ve put up a sign down at the trailhead that it will be closing. But I don’t want to talk about that. Here, let me show you some pictures.”

  She fetched her pack, got out her camera, and told him about the trip to Chama, showing him the photos she’d taken. Ohlan was fascinated by the train, and asked a lot of questions about it.

  “Would you like to ride on a train? I mean—if you weren’t so weak, and could leave the spring?”

  Dammit, she hadn’t wanted to bring that up. It was hard to avoid, though. It limited him so much.

  “I think I would like it,” Ohlan said, smiling softly.

  Holly wanted to promise him that she’d take him to Chama, but she didn’t know if she could deliver. Biting her lip, she paged through more of the photos.

  “This was a fountain out back of the B&B. I thought it was pretty cool.”

  “She’s beautiful. Like a sea nymph.”

  Holly glanced up at him. “Are there really sea nymphs?”

  “Oh, yes. I saw them once, when I visited the ocean.”

  Holly’s jaw dropped. “You’ve been to the ocean?”

  “Long ago. It was c
loser then.”

  Long ago as in millennia, probably. She kept forgetting how old he was.

  Holly looked back at her camera, at the picture of the web-fingered mermaid. “I met a river guardian. Wish I’d thought to take her picture.”

  An idea occurred to her and she looked at Ohlan. He met her gaze and smiled, then leaned toward her.

  “Wait—I want to try something.”

  She stood and took a couple of steps back, switching the camera to shaky-hands mode because she never could hold the thing still. Ohlan sat patiently watching her. She framed him up and clicked off a picture. The flash filled the glen like lightning.

  “Oh!” Ohlan raised his hands to cover his eyes.

  “Sorry! Let me turn off the flash.”

  He lowered his hands, blinking. Holly adjusted the camera and held it up again, then carefully pressed the button. The screen preview showed Ohlan sitting on the edge of the spring housing, glowing with soft golden light, radiant against the dark and dappled greens of the forest.

  “Wow.”

  Holly came back to the spring and showed Ohlan the picture. He smiled with delight, then looked up at her.

  “That’s me?”

  She sat beside him. “Haven’t you ever seen yourself?”

  “Only reflected in the water. And I look different depending on who sees me.”

  Holly grinned. “Like Schrödinger’s cat.”

  “Who?”

  “I’ll bring you a book about it. Oh—do you read?”

  “Yes. Amanda brought me books, and read poetry to me.”

  “She taught you to read?”

  Ohlan’s brow creased in thought. “Not exactly. More, she read to me and I saw how she was doing it.”

  Holly gaped at him. “You just picked up how to read from watching her?”

  “From sensing what she was doing. It’s my nature to reflect what’s in the minds of those around me. That is how the illusion works.”

  Holly looked back at the camera. “Well, it’s a really fine illusion. Do you think if I show this to other people, they’ll see you? Or will they just see the spring?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen this magic before.”