one if by land
Title : Two If By Sea
Author : ophelietta
Fandom : Twilight
Characters: Billy, little!Jacob, Rachel and Rebecca Black.
Summary : Jacob learned young what it means to wait for the things you want.
Notes : Drabble, brief musing on a part of Jake’s childhood. Some details gathered from the Twilight Lexicon, others are the products of my fevered brain. Let’s play spot-the-connection between this and Eclipse, yes? XD Final quote from Oscar Wilde.
Two If By Sea
So, now you're not there
But your ghost still burns in the air
Finally above us the waves have come
To take you away.
- City & Colour, “Missing (Serravalle)”
It’s Rachel who finds him near midnight, on the night of the new moon.
“He was down at First Beach,” Rachel says, fairly dragging her eight-year-old little brother into the house. He stumbles in, half-asleep, wrapped in an old red blanket, and Rachel hands him off to Rebecca, who leads him to bed, managing to scold him along the way.
“Thought we checked there,” Billy says, knowing he checked there. Knowing that First Beach was one of the first places they combed, when the hours started to drag by and Jacob still hadn’t come home from playing at the Clearwaters’.
“He was curled up behind one of those old driftwood logs,” Rachel says, eleven years old and completely exasperated, her cheeks flushed from the cold of the September night and from the thrill of staying up past her usual bedtime. “He just sorta blended in the shadows, since he’s so little.”
“Stupid,” says Rebecca, lips curled, as she comes back into the living room, but there’s relief mingled in there, too. “What was he doing there?”
Rachel - hesitates, her eyes slide over to Billy. Then she shrugs.
“Waiting,” she says.
~
Next morning at the breakfast table, Billy claps his son on the shoulder, looks him straight in the eye, and says, simply, “If you run off again until midnight without telling us where you’re going, I will skin you alive and use your hide to re-upholster my driver’s seat.”
Jacob blinks a little, pops another Cheerio in his mouth. “Okay.”
~
Eleven that night, Rebecca says, “I can go get him, Dad.”
Billy shakes his head, tells the girls to go to sleep early, even though it’s summer and they’ll sleep in as much as they can tomorrow. Twin black heads turn to each other at the same time, exchanging alien eye signals. Billy’s heard them talking about Jacob, fussing about him. He wonders if they talk about him too, when he’s gone.
Jacob’s easier to spot this time, perched right on top of one the largest bone-white driftwood logs, in his red blanket cocoon. His hair has escaped from its horsetail, and it flutters about, like a dark flag of silk. Rachel cut her hair short so it swings about her shoulders, but Rebecca and Jacob both have that long black hair that their mother Sarah loved so much.
Sarah.
Four months and it’s still not any easier. Four months and he still feels like he lost his breath somewhere and never quite got it back.
(It hurts when he thinks about her too much.)
Jacob doesn’t even turn to look at Billy, when Billy sits down beside him on the log. He just keeps staring at the sea. Billy stares too, in the same direction. Wonders what Jacob sees, in the silver-grey of the waves, in the dark, muffled sky that speaks only of absence.
“Come on, boy,” Billy says, not untenderly.
Jacob slips off the log without a word. His hand is very small and dry in Billy’s, and together, they pick their way across the smooth rocks, back to the pick up truck, back to the house that’s just big enough for four people and one ghost.
~
The next night, as they stare out at the sea again, Billy says, “That was your mother’s favourite blanket.”
Jacob says, “I know.”
Of course.
~
The night after that, Jacob says, “I had a dream. Before, I mean. A few days ago.” His small face is very wise, very grave. It looks strange without its usual huge grin, the grin that’s like sparks flying from a fire. His mother’s grin. “I dreamed that Mom came out of the sea.”
At first, Billy couldn’t quite forgive Sarah for dying. Who dies of brain aneurysms at thirty-four? How could she vanish, so quickly, so quietly, when she had been so… when she took up so much and gave off so much heat and light, laughing and singing loudly. (and off tune), when she was like flame catching, not walking but dancing everywhere? It seemed impossible for her to slip away as easily as a whisper, or a thread of smoke.
Four months and two weeks ago, she was halfway through reading Peter Pan to Jacob : “To die will be an awfully big adventure,” she had said, and her eyes had glowed as if she actually believed it - and maybe Billy couldn’t quite forgive Sarah for that either, for the purity of that belief.
Jacob, however. Jacob is different from Billy; his nature is much more generous. Billy knows that his son is a boy of infinite hope, to be able to stare out at the sea night after night and wait for the blessed time when the beloved dead will come back.
He had not only forgiven his mother for dying - he was ready, he was always at the ready, to take her back.
~
After a few weeks, once the summer ends and school starts, Jacob stops coming down to First Beach every night.
But every time he’s there, he stares out at the sea.
Waiting.
end.
If you are not too long,
I will wait here for you all my life.
Author : ophelietta
Fandom : Twilight
Characters: Billy, little!Jacob, Rachel and Rebecca Black.
Summary : Jacob learned young what it means to wait for the things you want.
Notes : Drabble, brief musing on a part of Jake’s childhood. Some details gathered from the Twilight Lexicon, others are the products of my fevered brain. Let’s play spot-the-connection between this and Eclipse, yes? XD Final quote from Oscar Wilde.
Two If By Sea
So, now you're not there
But your ghost still burns in the air
Finally above us the waves have come
To take you away.
- City & Colour, “Missing (Serravalle)”
It’s Rachel who finds him near midnight, on the night of the new moon.
“He was down at First Beach,” Rachel says, fairly dragging her eight-year-old little brother into the house. He stumbles in, half-asleep, wrapped in an old red blanket, and Rachel hands him off to Rebecca, who leads him to bed, managing to scold him along the way.
“Thought we checked there,” Billy says, knowing he checked there. Knowing that First Beach was one of the first places they combed, when the hours started to drag by and Jacob still hadn’t come home from playing at the Clearwaters’.
“He was curled up behind one of those old driftwood logs,” Rachel says, eleven years old and completely exasperated, her cheeks flushed from the cold of the September night and from the thrill of staying up past her usual bedtime. “He just sorta blended in the shadows, since he’s so little.”
“Stupid,” says Rebecca, lips curled, as she comes back into the living room, but there’s relief mingled in there, too. “What was he doing there?”
Rachel - hesitates, her eyes slide over to Billy. Then she shrugs.
“Waiting,” she says.
~
Next morning at the breakfast table, Billy claps his son on the shoulder, looks him straight in the eye, and says, simply, “If you run off again until midnight without telling us where you’re going, I will skin you alive and use your hide to re-upholster my driver’s seat.”
Jacob blinks a little, pops another Cheerio in his mouth. “Okay.”
~
Eleven that night, Rebecca says, “I can go get him, Dad.”
Billy shakes his head, tells the girls to go to sleep early, even though it’s summer and they’ll sleep in as much as they can tomorrow. Twin black heads turn to each other at the same time, exchanging alien eye signals. Billy’s heard them talking about Jacob, fussing about him. He wonders if they talk about him too, when he’s gone.
Jacob’s easier to spot this time, perched right on top of one the largest bone-white driftwood logs, in his red blanket cocoon. His hair has escaped from its horsetail, and it flutters about, like a dark flag of silk. Rachel cut her hair short so it swings about her shoulders, but Rebecca and Jacob both have that long black hair that their mother Sarah loved so much.
Sarah.
Four months and it’s still not any easier. Four months and he still feels like he lost his breath somewhere and never quite got it back.
(It hurts when he thinks about her too much.)
Jacob doesn’t even turn to look at Billy, when Billy sits down beside him on the log. He just keeps staring at the sea. Billy stares too, in the same direction. Wonders what Jacob sees, in the silver-grey of the waves, in the dark, muffled sky that speaks only of absence.
“Come on, boy,” Billy says, not untenderly.
Jacob slips off the log without a word. His hand is very small and dry in Billy’s, and together, they pick their way across the smooth rocks, back to the pick up truck, back to the house that’s just big enough for four people and one ghost.
~
The next night, as they stare out at the sea again, Billy says, “That was your mother’s favourite blanket.”
Jacob says, “I know.”
Of course.
~
The night after that, Jacob says, “I had a dream. Before, I mean. A few days ago.” His small face is very wise, very grave. It looks strange without its usual huge grin, the grin that’s like sparks flying from a fire. His mother’s grin. “I dreamed that Mom came out of the sea.”
At first, Billy couldn’t quite forgive Sarah for dying. Who dies of brain aneurysms at thirty-four? How could she vanish, so quickly, so quietly, when she had been so… when she took up so much and gave off so much heat and light, laughing and singing loudly. (and off tune), when she was like flame catching, not walking but dancing everywhere? It seemed impossible for her to slip away as easily as a whisper, or a thread of smoke.
Four months and two weeks ago, she was halfway through reading Peter Pan to Jacob : “To die will be an awfully big adventure,” she had said, and her eyes had glowed as if she actually believed it - and maybe Billy couldn’t quite forgive Sarah for that either, for the purity of that belief.
Jacob, however. Jacob is different from Billy; his nature is much more generous. Billy knows that his son is a boy of infinite hope, to be able to stare out at the sea night after night and wait for the blessed time when the beloved dead will come back.
He had not only forgiven his mother for dying - he was ready, he was always at the ready, to take her back.
~
After a few weeks, once the summer ends and school starts, Jacob stops coming down to First Beach every night.
But every time he’s there, he stares out at the sea.
Waiting.
end.
If you are not too long,
I will wait here for you all my life.