“Alright, I’ll come. Just let me clean my brushes first.”
Miguel smiled and said “I’ll prepare some snacks for us and we can have a picnic at the park.” Before disappearing out the door, presumably to the kitchen.
After she cleaned her brushes in the bathroom sink and set them to dry, Esme gave herself a brief examination in the bathroom mirror.
Brown freckled skin and black eyes stared back. She smiled flatly to check her teeth. Yup, fangs were still there. She wasn't sure what she was expecting.
Once when Esme was eight, Mrs. Nickel, owner of the local grocery, told her she reminded her of a wild animal trapped in a cage, waiting to bite its captor.
As questionable as that was to say to an eight year old, she wasn't exactly wrong. She did bite Christian Fisk a week later, after he tried to lock her in a supply closet.
After she had tried and failed to put her hair into a more kempt ponytail, and tried to rub a splotch of paint from her basketball shorts (also a failure) she made her way downstairs to the living room. Miguel stood waiting with a large wicker picnic basket. When he saw Esme, he let the basket swing low, nearly letting it drop to the floor “Esme your dad is too old and frail to carry this fabulous meal he prepared!” He groaned.
She rolled her eyes and walked towards him, grabbing the basket “Old when it's convenient for you huh?”
“I haven't an idea what you mean dear!” Miguel said, winking at her and hurrying out the door.
Esme followed, grumbling. She didn't actually mind, carrying the basket gave her something to do with her hands. But she’d be damned if she gave up the chance to remind her Dad that she had inherited his constant need to complain, even once.
~~~
The farmers market was as usual. Well stocked stalls displaying fresh heirloom fruits and vegetables, baked goods and handicrafts sat manned by elderly men and women, as well as a few disgruntled looking grandchildren.
The wicker basket filled with fresh bread and cheese, cookies and homemade iced tea swung on Esme’s arm, making a little tink tink sound as the jars inside gently hit each other.
Walking down main street, the people did indeed gawk. Esme thought it was amusing that after nearly two decades they still hadn't gotten used to her. She had gotten used to them. Mostly.
Miguel flitted to one stall after another, asking their keepers questions about produce varieties and about how their families were and if they would be at church this Sunday.
The Vasquez’s were far from a religious family, yet every Sunday Miguel insisted he, Esme and Raul go to church to make nice. The towns folk rarely made nice back. He said it was to keep up appearances. Esme wasn't sure what appearances they were keeping up exactly.
Raul told her that he thought Miguel did it because he didn't want to bend to the bigotry of Hartsfield, that he might feel like locking himself away inside the safety of Vasquez Manor was like letting them win.
After an hour or so of “keeping up appearances”, Esme and Miguel made their way to the glorified patch of grass that was the town park.
There they set up residence at an aged picnic table. They sat washing down bread, cheese and thumbprint cookies with iced tea for a good while, until Lavender Celestial Moonshine set herself before them, hands on her hips, declaring “Miguel I have news!”
Lavender Celestial Moonshine was Miguel's best friend and in Esme’s opinion, the only decent person in town that didn't have the last name Vasquez.
Lavender was the child of hippies who decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives traveling, so they left her with her Father's parents and were never seen again. Minus her years studying Library Sciences at Greensboro, she had lived in Hartsfield all her thirty-five years, and now she was their librarian.
Lavender was the smartest person Esme knew, and the most chaotic. She and Lav were always getting into trouble together when Esme was growing up. She had shown her all the best books in the library, how to knot dandelion flower crowns, and how to throw a punch. She was like the weird aunt Esme never had.
“Lav is it real news or is it someone else's business?” Said Miguel, raising a suspicious eyebrow.
Lavender smiled sweetly “Oh my darling Miguel you speak of me as if I’m the town gossip!”
Lavender sort of WAS the town gossip. Though Esme knew she could also keep secrets like no one else.
She took a seat beside Esme and helped herself to a glass of iced tea and a cookie.
“Ez dear, you don't think I’m a gossip do you?”
Esme grinned at her.
Lavender grinned back.
Lavender then went on to tell them about a construction project she had overheard details of while restocking books.
“An energy plant Miggy!”
“What kind of energy plant?” Said Miguel, nibbling some spare havarti.
“Nuclear I imagine, or at least that's what it sounded like. The details were a bit vague. But can you imagine what this could change?”
“Sounds like it could make Hartsfield into a company town.” He said, frowning.
“It could bring so many opportunities Miguel, and new people!”
“I’m not so sure Lav, something about it makes me uneasy.”
“Oh you hate anything new darling.”
Miguel scoffed “I’m from New York City!”
“This town has changed you into a slow going snail man.” Lavender declared, taking a large gulp of tea.
Miguel and Lavender quarreled good naturedly for a while, during which Lavender insisted on braiding Esme’s hair into two thick plaits as always. Esme loved the feeling of having her hair braided, she felt like a puppy getting scratched behind its ears.
Eventually the noon turned to afternoon, and Lavender had to get back to her library.
But not before asking Esme to come see her on Saturday, saying she wanted to give her something before she headed to Greensboro next week.
They hugged and parted ways. Thoroughly exhausted of town, Esme and Miguel headed towards home, picking up some fresh bread from one of the stands on the way.
The fields of wheat shone gold in the afternoon sun, meeting a deep blue horizon in the distance, dark chubby clouds hung above the pine forest in the east, almost ready to rain. Esme wished the towns folk were as nice as their town.
When they arrived back at the manor, Esme agreed to help Miguel with his garden after a bit of pleading. She wheel barrowed the mulch from one place to another and dug holes for pumpkin seeds and spaghetti squash until the sky started to tinge orange and the chubby rain clouds started rolling in.
When they walked through the backdoor they were met with warmth and delicious smells. Raul had cooked dinner. A dutch oven was bubbling on the stove, brimming with fresh garden vegetable soup. Miguel cut the new loaf of bread into slices and coated it in a thick layer of herb butter and garlic then placed the slices on a plate after a brief trip under the broiler.
After an especially good dinner they played a game of Scrabble, and after Raul inevitably won, they all parted ways to work on their own projects. Esme on her painting, Raul on his translations and Miguel a sweater he had been knitting.
Esme had decided to add some gold ink to the amulet in her painting. While rummaging through her ink bottles she glanced out the window into the fields and noticed yet another strange occurrence. The foxes had gathered themselves in Jedidiahs pasture despite the heavy rain, huddled as if they were speaking to each other. Usually the sight of the foxes left her at most vaguely irritated, but something felt different. Despite standing hundreds of feet away, it felt like their eyes were on her.
She drew her gauzy emerald curtains inwards. Then stood ill at ease for a moment, now that the curtains were drawn she didn't like that she couldn't see what the foxes were up to.
She shook it off, grabbing the gold bottle of ink and putting her earbuds in.
Eventually she became lost in painting, and thoughts of creepy foxes were dulled to the back of her mind. When she finally finished the amulet she took a step back and took in the entire painting.
She decided it was finished, there was nothing more she should add. Upon that decision, she grabbed a comic from her tightly packed bookshelf and fell back onto her king sized bed.
Soon, she fell into a light sleep, her head laid atop her copy of Sailor Moon Volume 8. Her head filled with blurred imagery and unplaceable sounds, something between a dream and reality, she stayed there for what felt like a long time, until…
SCRAAAATCHHHHHH
She sat up quickly, feeling her heart beating in her chest.
It was silent. She must have had an auditory illusion from her half sleep state, she recalled a wikipedia article she had read about exploding head syndrome.
SCRAAAAAAATCH
Okay nevermind Esme thought, her body stiffening. The sound came from her window. Maybe it was a tree branch? Accept there weren't any trees anywhere remotely near her window.
SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH
The sound became more frantic, making itself known as something living and trying to get her attention. Every part of her body wanted to stay on her bed, and allow that scratching to make itself scarce. But her head was lit with curiosity despite her own nervous system.
Curiosity killed the cat, Esme thought.
Although technically she was more of a dog.
She pushed her body up, and dragged herself to the window.
SCRAAAAAAAAAA-
Esme tore the curtains open, interrupting a very surprised and bedraggled looking fox with its claws on her window. It stared at her with strange eyes, emerald even in the moonlight. Weren't fox eyes brown?
“How did you get up here?” She asked, annoyed at the waver she heard in her voice.
It stood still.
“Can you leave please?”
No movement.
They held eye contact for a long time, Esme was hoping it would get intimidated by her. She hoped it would register that it was dealing with something much more lethal than itself, despite feeling her shoulders shaking. She hoped it wouldn't notice that.
After a few minutes, it was apparent that the eye contact battle had come to a draw. Esme sighed loudly and said “Why are you here?”
The fox tipped its head back slightly and shook its snout.
That's when Esme realized it was holding a key in its mouth.
Esme, perhaps against her better judgment, unlatched the window and gently pushed it open, it screeched and creaked the whole way up.
After testing the window for a moment to make sure it wouldn't slam back down, Esme took a step back to distance herself from the foxes mouth. The wet fox had ceased its little head dance and was once again staring at her, seeming to have nintention of leaving or coming inside.
Eyeing its teeth, Esme carefully reached towards the key in its mouth. The fox slow blinked at her, as if to say “Yes that’s correct.”
She wrapped her fingers around the key, and the fox slowly released it from its mouth.
Only slightly covered in fox slobber, the key felt heavy in her hand. It was about 3 inches long and made of thick iron that was slightly rusted in a few places.
“What's this for?” She asked, looking back at the fox.
The fox didn't move or make a sound, just continued to stare at her once again.
“Is this…does this have to do with where you keep trying to take me?”
Stare.
Esme wasn't sure how she was supposed to communicate with a fox. Did they speak dog? Did she speak dog? She hadn't seemed to so far, or at least farmer Jedidiah's border collie never had anything to say to her.
“You know I won't be here next week, and I won't be back for a long while.” She didn't know why she was telling a fox this information.
Stare.
“I'll…probably be back for winter break though.”
At this, the foxes tail bristled upwards, and then it ran off to some part of the roof she couldn't see. Then somehow in a moment, it was on the road running towards the fields.
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