Pure Blood
B.M. Green
What Others are Saying about Pure Blood
“I enjoyed this book very much. From beginning to end, it keeps you wanting more. I felt like I was there and could see everything the author was describing. I loved the characters. I hope the author decides to take this story further. I would love to know what happens next. Do they build the school? Do they find the other Oceains? What happens to them? I would love to see more books from this author, and read more of her stories.” -Twilight123, amazon.com
“This book is so great. Like the previous mentioned review, you can't put it down. You want MORE! I would recommend this to anyone looking for a weekend read.” -ArayR, amazon.com
Hardcover and Softcover Edition Published by B.M.Green at Xlibris Publishing
Copyright 2010 B.M. Green.
Library of Congress Control Number:
2009911341
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-4415-9339-9
Softcover
978-1-4415-9338-2
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Hugo Rojas and Fabian Parra.
For Katie and Mik
Chapter 1
Five minutes.
Five minutes until the bell rings. At Montgomery High School, all of the students were waiting anxiously for the last bell to ring - the last bell of the day, the bell that would release them into their summer vacation. Everyone was ecstatic. Everyone, that is, except a long, brown haired, 15-year-old girl named Holidee.
Four minutes.
Holidee didn’t like summer much. Summer meant that she had nothing to do, nothing to preoccupy her mind. She always liked to be busy. Being busy meant she didn’t have time to think about things. Being busy meant she didn’t have time to think about people. It meant she didn’t have time to think about her past.
Holidee didn’t like Georgia much. It was too sunny. It was never cold enough. It was like having beach weather with no beach. It was torture.
Three minutes.
Georgia didn’t feel like home to her. The houses were different. The people were different. The air was different. She had lived in Georgia for a few months and it still felt like a strange place to her. She missed her home. She missed her friends. But most of all, she missed her parents.
Two minutes.
She loved her godmother, yes, but she had only met her godmother once or twice before moving in with her. She treated Holidee with nothing but kindness, but it wasn’t the same kindness a mother shows toward her child. No, it was the sort of kindness one shows someone when they do not know how to act around that person. She wasn’t Holidee’s mother. She wasn’t family. Georgia wasn’t home.
One minute.
She felt so out of place all the time. Everyone looked at her weirdly if they even noticed her at all. She had no friends. No one had even tried to become her friend. She didn’t know or care why either. She liked to be alone. She liked not having to talk to anyone. She liked not having to answer any questions. It didn’t matter if she was with someone or not: that haunting day her parents died crept up her spine no matter what.
Bring!
Everyone rushed out of class. Papers went flying everywhere. Teachers locked their doors and ran out of the school along with the students. The school was deserted in a matter of minutes. Holidee packed her stuff up slowly and put her book bag over her shoulder. She headed for the door.
“Holidee.”
It was Mr. Jublemaker. He was a science teacher at the school who knew Holidee’s godmother very well. He had sandy brown hair. His eyes, though, shone a brilliant misty gray. He was in his mid-forties. He had small lines on his face, but he still looked young. He was the only person at school who tried to talk with Holidee.
“Oh. Hi, Mr. Jublemaker.”
“Hi. I just wanted to wish you a good summer.”
“Thanks.” She turned to leave, but was stopped again by him.
“Holidee.” She stopped and twisted her head toward him. Her expressionless, ocean blue eyes almost looked through him rather than at him. She knew she had unnatural and eerie eyes. For that reason, she rarely looked at anyone. She usually looked down or away. This time she looked at someone. Surprisingly, though, Mr. Jublemaker did not flinch. He just looked right back at those bright, blue eyes.
“If you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.” She just nodded and left.
As she walked down the hall, her mind drifted to when she had first arrived at this school. She had gotten lost many times. The school, well, her school had many buildings. It was designed like a campus. It took her a while to get use to it. It was a lot of freedom but a lot of trouble. She remembered running into class five minutes after the late bell had rung. The teacher would give her menacing looks and detentions. Kids would always whisper behind her back. All of her teachers would look at her like they looked at all of the bad students. Mr. Jublemaker, however, was the only teacher who did not. He never gave her a detention, a mean look, or anything less than a smile. She never knew why, either. She figured he was nice to her because he knew her godmother.
Holidee reached the door and saw that it was pouring down rain outside. She set down her book bag and looked in it for an umbrella. No luck.
“This is just brilliant,” she said aloud.
She always had to walk home from school and didn’t mind, but today it was raining exceedingly harder than usual. Maybe I should have written my will in class. Then I could have given my stuff to someone I wanted when I drown, she thought. She lifted her book bag onto her back and headed outside.
The raindrops were the size of nickels, and she got drenched within seconds. She didn’t run. She didn’t even try to cover her head from the rain. She just walked her regular route to get to her godmother’s house. She walked down Mertin Street and across the road to the public pool. No one was swimming. No one was there. The raindrops hit the chemically-treated water like rocks: each drop plunged into it, making a huge splash. She walked five houses down and turned to the right. She now stood outside her godmother’s house.
The house was a cute little building with cream siding and light pink shutters. It had a porch that reached from one corner of the house to the other. The house itself was neither small nor big. The roof was made up of black and pink shingles. Even the front door was a light pink. Holidee shook her head in disgust.
She unlocked the door, put her book bag by it after she walked inside, and set her key down on the table. She took off her shoes and set them on the tile so that they would not stain anything. Her godmother would be ticked if she wore her shoes in the house, even if they were clean. Holidee then went into the kitchen, where she found a note written by her godmother.
Holidee,
I had to go to work. Sorry. I should be
back around nine. Call me if you need
anything.
Mer
Figures. Holidee opened the refrigerator and looked inside for a snack. Not satisfied with anything, she turned to the cupboards and picked up a granola bar. This’ll have to do, I guess. Then she walked into the living room to watch TV and noticed a flashing red light blinking on the answering machine. She went over and pushed it.
You have 1 new message and 2 old messages.
Friday, 1:52pm
br /> Ey! Holiday! How are ya mate?
Meranda just wanted me to check up
on ya. Yer probably fine. Well, G’day!
Beep! End of message.
Jax. Mer’s co-worker. He’s from Australia, and he loves to eat. He came over for dinner at their house every now and then. He could eat five four-course meals and a salad and still have room for dessert. If he wasn’t eating, he would be talking. He loves to talk almost more than he loves to eat. He talks to people he doesn’t even know. He’ll talk about anything and everything. He’ll talk about fish, Australia, hair, politics, and even his grandmother. You name it, and he always has something to say about it. His long, dirty blonde hair and his crystal blue eyes made him attractive to almost all of the women. Holidee wasn’t one of them and neither was Mer.
Holidee finally made it to the couch and turned on the TV. After finishing her snack and realizing nothing good was going to come on after she flipped through the channels a dozen times, she decided she better go take a shower. She took a twenty-minute shower. After she had drenched herself with hot water, she stepped out of the shower and into the steamy bathroom. She looked at the foggy mirror and saw the faint outline of her name. Holidee. The name that her mother and father gave her. She remembered when her mother had told her about her name.
“Mommy!”
“Wh-, honey, why are you crying? Why is my little girl shedding tears? Was school not fun?”
“No. I got picked on.”
“By whom?”
“By the other kids.”
“What did they say?”
“They said my name was dumb and stupid, and they kept calling me Holiday! Why did you name me Holidee? No one likes it.”
“I like it, sweetheart. And so does your father. We love your name.”
“Well, I don’t!”
“Listen, sweetie, I named you Holidee because it is a beautiful name. Did you know that your name means something?”
“No.”
“Well, it does. It means rising of the sun, spirit of the creatures, and dew on the earth.”
“But, mommy, what does all that mean?”
“It means, darling, that you are special.”
Her mother. She was the one who had guided her through her life. She taught Holidee how to cook and give speeches, how to braid hair while reading a book, and how to love. Her mother was the most beautiful person she knew. She always had a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. She always knew how to make pain go away and how to read a story with the right voices. She would always have a warm touch and soft skin. Her hair would always be brushed and shiny or tied back with a pretty barrette. She was perfect. She would always say the right things, she would always have dinner on the table for when Holidee’s father got off work, and they would always eat together. Holidee missed those times. She missed her life.
Holidee touched her fading name. “Mom”. Her hand gently fell down to her side, but her eyes remained staring at the mirror. You were always an oddball. No wonder why they didn’t stay around. I would have dumped you on someone else’s porch too, mocked her reflection. “That’s not true!” she yelled back at the mirror. “My parents loved me! They would’ve stayed if they had the choice!” Oh sure, it remarked. You could never do anything right. “I tried! And they knew I tried my best. That’s all that matters!” Is it? Is that really all that matters? That you tried? Did you try to save your parents? And fail? Or did you not even try? “There was nothing I could do! There was nothing I could do. There was…nothing…” Nothing? A tear fell onto the sink. “Am I really a failure?” You said it, not me. “I really can’t do anything right, can I? I can’t adjust to Georgia. I can’t even smile anymore. I…I’m a shipwreck.” No. You’re a walking corpse, a crumbling mountain, or a .2 earthquake, but not a shipwreck. Holidee bowed her head in defeat because she knew her reflection was right, more some ways than others.
Five fifty-two in the evening was what the clock read. Holidee, wrapped in her towel, walked out into the hallway and into her bedroom. She then pulled on her flannel pajamas and slippers. Once her hair was wrapped up in the towel, she walked back into the living room. She picked up the remote to the stereo and turned it on. She turned the volume up to 48. She wanted to drown out all the thoughts in her head. Music filled the house. Holidee threw the remote onto the sofa and danced into the kitchen. “What should be for dinner?” she asked aloud. “Spaghetti? Fish sticks? Macaroni & Cheese? Hmm…mac & cheese sounds good.” She grabbed a box of extra creamy, extra cheesy mac & cheese and set it on the countertop. She then got out a pot and filled it with water and put it on a stovetop burner to boil. While waiting for the water to boil, she picked up the broom and started to sing into it. She only stopped when the water was boiling.
After eating, she combed her hair and put it up with a claw. Then she turned off the music and went into her bedroom to get a book. As she looked for a book on her bookshelf, she slid her finger across the spines of the books and read the titles aloud. Her finger stopped, though, when she came across a book with no title on its spine. What’s this? She took it off of the shelf. It was a small book, containing only a hundred pages. The book was bound in dark brown leather. The leather was worn and the pages were yellowed from age. There was a leather string that tied it together. It looked like a journal of some sort.
She looked around to see if anyone was near even though she knew there wasn’t. Then she opened the little book of secrets. It was a journal, but who it belonged to, she did not know. She looked on the inside of the cover to see if a name was written there. There was. Embossed in gold was Gregoric T. Galygin. Dad? Could it really be…? Holidee started to flip through the pages slowly at first, then more rapidly, and finally she realized that she wasn’t touching the pages anymore. All of a sudden the pages stopped turning. There was a journal entry that faced Holidee as the book lay on the floor:
July 28
Yesterday was my sixteenth birthday. It was just like any other birthday except for a few things. For one, I didn’t get any presents from my parents. I only got gifts from my friends. I thought that was strange, but I brushed it off. Then, after all of my friends were gone, my parents took me on a walk on the beach. They started to tell me about my birth and my early childhood years. After about an hour, they talked about our family and then the ocean and how beautiful it was. It was a strange conversation. But I will never forget what I saw next. It was amazing what my parents did! I couldn’t believe they had hid that from me for so long! But they told me everyone was told on their sixteenth birthday. Then they told me about what they do and where they live. My mind was spinning. I couldn’t believe what they were telling me! I can’t believe I’m something else!
I can’t believe I’m an…
But what Holidee’s father was, she never knew because the bottom of the page was torn out of the journal. She sat there in astonishment. Her father was something else? What could he possibly be? Maybe it was something minor…but what if it wasn’t? She went to turn the page, but then she heard the front door open and she put the little journal back on the shelf. She ran out of her bedroom to say hello to her godmother.
She walked into the living room without her godmother even knowing she did. Mer took off her shoes and neatly laid them next to the door. She then went into the kitchen to sort through the mail. Holidee followed her. Mer was making two piles with the mail: one for junk mail and the other for bills. Occasionally she got a card of some sort. Holidee never got any mail. Mer then started to open the mail. Nothing exciting.
“How was work?” Holidee said, stepping into the kitchen.
“Oh!” Mer exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were behind me. My work? It was just same old work. Nothing new happened. How was your last day of school? You glad it’s summer break now?”
“Not really. Summer’s not THAT exciting. It’s just…summer.” Holidee replied while pretending to be interested in an imaginary fly on the wall.
?
??Oh. Well maybe I won’t have to work that much this summer and we’ll have all kinds of fun.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Mer put down the banking balance she had been reading and looked at Holidee.
“Is there something on your mind?”
Holidee looked at Mer. Yeah there’s something on my mind! My parent’s death is on my mind! It’s always on my mind! The fact that I am living here in Georgia is on my mind! The fact that I don’t even know you that well and yet I’m living with you is on my mind! I’m a strange girl living with a strange woman in a strange place, and I still don’t belong! If I don’t belong here and I don’t belong in Ohio, then where do I belong!? Why do I not fit in anywhere!? Why am I so different!? Am I not supposed to be happy!? Holidee brought her attention back to the imaginary fly. “No. Nothing’s on my mind.”
“Okay, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here. You know that, right?”
Holidee didn’t answer. She just kept looking at the imaginary fly. She felt Mer’s gaze on her and tried to ignore it. Finally, she felt her gaze leave.
“You got a letter from someone back in Ohio.” Mer said after a few moments of awkward silence.
Holidee looked at Mer. “I did?” She reached out towards Mer to take the letter.
“You can have it,” Mer said as she pulled it out of Holidee’s reach, “if you promise that you will talk to me if something is ever bothering you.”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Mer handed her the letter, and Holidee grabbed it eagerly. She ripped it open only to be disappointed. Mer saw her disappointment.
“What’d ya get?”
“A birthday card.” She said as she put it back into its envelope.
“Well that’s exciting, isn’t it? But your birthday isn’t for another month.”
“Yeah. She wasn’t sure if it would get to me. So, she mailed it early in case she had to mail another one…don’t ask…she doesn’t always think things through all the way.”
“Who’s she?”
“A friend.”
“So…why are you disappointed if it is from your friend?”
Holidee froze. “I just thought…I was hoping for a letter written from one of my friends. A letter telling me what is going on and how things are in Ohio. A card is just a fake message bought in a store at the last minute. All you do is sign your name at the bottom. There is nothing special about that.”
Mer didn’t know what to say to that. Before she could reply, Holidee dropped the card and left the room. She walked to her bedroom and shut the door. She leaned against the shut door for a few seconds. Then she went to her window and opened it. The cool breeze whipped her hair back. She grabbed the windowsill with her hand and put a foot on it. She then stuck her head out the window and climbed out onto the roof. The rough shingles rubbed against her hands and made scratches. She sat down on the roof and hugged her knees. Her pants started to get wet from tears. Then she took her hand and wiped her eyes so the tears would stop. “This is stupid,” she said aloud to herself. “Why am I so emotional? What is going on with me? I was never like this.” She bowed her head down and rested it on her knees. Then a gust of wind ruffled her hair and swept under her. It whirled around her until she lifted her head off of her knees. Holidee looked up, her cheeks stained with tears. “Mom?” The wind spun around her, making a spiral that lifted Holidee up. “Dad?” She stood up on her feet and looked up towards the sky. The wind flew in circles around her. It was warm, almost like someone was hugging her. Holidee closed her eyes and soaked up its warmth. Then, just as fast as it came, it had gone. Holidee opened her eyes and realized she felt much better and that her cheeks weren’t stained with tears. She smiled to herself and crawled back into her bedroom.
That night when Holidee went to bed, her mind was not filled with thoughts of the past or present. She did not think of her parents. She did not think of her godmother, her friends, or herself. She did not think of Ohio, Georgia, or the summer to come. She did not think of the card, her promise, or even her father’s little journal. All of it was lost, as she lay thoughtless and content. She didn’t have a single idea of what the coming month would bring. She didn’t have a clue of what the coming year would bring. She had no idea that her life would yet again take another rapid turn.