Kindred Journey
an excerpt

Jazz awoke at 4AM to run the 7 miles to the cemetery to visit her brother who, every morning did the same. It was their morning ritual, and it had been for the last ten years.
She pulled her black jogging pants with the white stripes down the side off the faded and dusty rose chair that sat in the corner of her room, donned a white t-shirt and donned a jacket that matched the pants. She pulled her long blond hair back into a ponytail and headed out of the small house she had only recently started to call home again.
The cool morning wind gently whipped round her face, wafting the scent of jasmine and roses into her nose and the grass, crisp with frozen dew, crunched beneath her worn sneakers.
She stepped through the broken picket fence and turned, jogging east, from which a single ray of light had yet to emerge.
She found the run invigorating, but collapsed, panting at the arched entrance of the cemetery.
The cemetery here was unique in that it actually predated the town. It had been a family cemetery on a homestead, but some of the graves were from earlier still, dating back as far as the sixteenth century.
The property surrounding it had been undisturbed except to pave the small roadway and place a tall iron fence around it to deter the occasional youthful prank.
Most of the residents found the old cemetery to be creepy, and stayed away on principle, but Jazz had always thought it peaceful, and as a curious child, she had thoroughly explored it.
Because the town’s residents stayed away from this place, they never noticed the place she loved to visit, the place she met her brother every morning.
The trees, overgrown and wild, obscured the path to the clearing where she’d first discovered the fountain, which seemed out of place to her at first, but as she drew nearer, her disconcertion gave way to curiosity.
At seven years old, she knew that when she peaked into pristine water, her own reflection would stare back at her, but in this fountain she saw the reflection of her brother instead and she was thrilled.
As she aged, she paid more attention to the surroundings, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, but simultaneously curious about what could allow the anomaly.
In daylight, she had meticulously studied the figure, who seemed to be an angel, head raised to the heavens with hands folded in prayer. The gray marble statue stood out from his surroundings, yet he seemed to belong and the thicket had grown up as if embracing him or holding him there.
She approached the fountain, calling to her brother.
“Anthony. Anthony, are you there?” With no response, she sighed. Ten years. In ten years, you’d think he could show up on time just once. He is the older one.
“Hey Jazi!” A voice called ten minutes later.
“Don’t hey Jazi me! You’re late again!”
“Awww. I’m sorry sis. You know I’m not a morning person. I try, really I do.”
“Yeah, I know. Hey Ton?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you could get mom and dad to come up sometime? I just...I just want to see them once. I hardly remember them.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but you know how they are. They hate this place, and Mom’d think she was certifiable or something.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Anthony could tell that his little sister was crestfallen, and he couldn’t help feeling guilty for the fact. He’d gotten to grow up with their parents while for her, they were only memories.
“I’ll see what I can do. Promise.”
She nodded slightly, but was still slightly down. “Listen, I need to get going. Fridays are busy, ya know.” She avoided eye contact and he knew not to press her, so he gave her the opening commenting that he had a lot to do, too.
Sometimes there conversations were solemn like this, but other times they were informative, allowing the siblings to keep up with each other’s lives. Still other times meant that one or the other wished that they could be together to offer a hug, a supportive pat on the back, a shoulder to cry on, or a reprimanding swat or slap.
“Bye Ton” she called as she turned and started the seven mile jog home wondering what her life would be like if she were the one on the other side of the fountain, if she’d grown up with her real mom and dad instead of living with Lauren and her parents. It was a thought process she actively tried to avoid, but on days like today, her mother’s 50th birthday, she just couldn’t.
Happy birthday, Mom... and many more.
Another hour and she was home, her hair wet with sweat. As she returned, she kicked the dingy sneakers off her feet by the front door of the dilapidated cottage, She paused a moment to take in the beauty of the sunrise. Every one she’d seen had been different but still beautiful in its own right, and she liked to pause to take in it’s beauty before heading in to take a shower before work.
She hated to blow dry her hair, so she towel dried it very well and brushed the tangles free. She loved the feel of her hair when it was still damp. It was so smooth and soft and it just sort of danced in the breeze.
She pulled on jeans, hip-huggers of course, and a shirt that wrapped around, accentuating her curves and the black lambskin leather jacket Lauren had brought her from the city.
To look at her, you’d think her a fashonista who spent her life’s wages solely on clothes to insure that she always had something trendy to wear, but really, she dressed for comfort, and most of the clothes she had were bought on the advice of Lauren, who really was a diva.
On her way out, she grabbed a sprig of jasmine and tucked it in her hair. The scent mingled with the fragrance of her chocolate covered strawberry shampoo.
She climbed on her bike for the leisurely ride down the worn road that meandered around a few old estates before bisecting the one-street town. As she went, she waved and called well-wishes to her neighbors who returned the sentiments with a smile. They had watched the girl grow up and many had helped raise her after she was orphaned ten years older. All of them remembered the shop that her parents had owned and the generosity they had displayed for those in need.
Jazz had toyed with the idea of opening the store again, but determined that she wasn’t ready yet. Her work experience was limited to working for the last three years in the town’s one diner, and her savings weren’t yet large enough to allow for the initial inventory plus supporting herself. She was saving up, and making real progress, but she really didn’t know...how much was enough?
The single men all showed up thrice daily desiring nothing more than for her to simply say yes. Most of them thought she was unattainable, but they asked her out anyway, mainly for the sake of competition, but also figuring that she had to get tired of saying no at some point and if she did, they might as well be the one who finally gets the green light from the prettiest girl in town.
The first man into the diner, though, every morning, without fail was Sheriff Tate, Lauren’s dad and the man who had raised her. He and her father had been long time friends, and he had lost his son, Ryan, when her parents and brother had been murdered.
He had been the only person besides me to see them like that. She’d spent the night at Lauren’s and her brother Ryan, Anthony’s best friend, spent the night at her house, just across the street from theirs. Jazz went home the next morning and they were all gone. She was supposed to send Ryan home, and after a while, when he hadn’t, Sheriff Tate went over, thinking his son had just gotten involved in whatever mischief he and Anthony had gotten into. He found Jazz there, staring at Anthony’s lifeless body, never moving, just standing and staring.
The two of them had bonded in that moment, and the bond extended to today. From that moment on she had been his little girl, under his care and protection and he took the duty very seriously.
“Your usual, Sheriff?”
He smiled genially and replied with a wink “Don’t tell Mrs. Tate. She’s been after me about the way I eat.”
“How about a bowl of cereal instead?”
“No no, baby, I’ll have my usual. Don’t worry about the Mrs. I’ll handle her.”
The girl cocked one eyebrow at him, making her different colored eyes obvious. She tried to hide them most of the time, but occasionally, she used their unsettling nature to get what she wanted.
“Okay, okay, I get your point. Cereal it is, but tomorrow, I’m having my usual!”
She laughed and poured him a bowl of cheerios with low fat milk and a cup of orange juice in the place of his usual coffee with extra sugar.
“Coffee too?”
“Yes, you have to give up coffee too. You’ve been taking care of me, I want to help take care of you.” She planted a kiss on his cheek, making the men in the diner jealous, though they all knew that there never was and never would be anything going on between the sheriff and his surrogate daughter.
She bustled about, insuring that everyone had their breakfast, calling orders to the short order cook as people walked in, before they sat, much less ordered. It’s the wonder of a small town.