deposit your trays. Classes will resume in ten minutes.”
Chapter 2
By the time I get home, I am exhausted. Normally, I would go for a run up to the top of the Rock but I am struggling with the resumed productivity that the summer months forgot to warn me about. I’ve lived in the city my whole life and the trail to the Rock has always been one of my favorites, with its winding dirt path leading up to a massive boulder that sits perched atop a hill. From that high up, society and rules, restrictions, they all disappear.
What kind of teacher gives homework on the first day? I break open my books, dreading the hours ahead. “Cate, would you mind coming in here?” My heart jumps at my dad’s voice bellowing from his study and I clutch onto the feeble excuse to procrastinate and make my way down the hall. “How was your first day of school?”
“Fine, I guess. I like all my teachers, well enough.”
He stops me abruptly and his request for my attention becomes apparent. “Have you thought about which extracurricular you’re going to sign up for? You know, the vocational board pays quite a bit of attention to those sort of things. How well rounded you are adds a lot to how well you can benefit those around you.”
I try to exhale slowly, to allow my irritation from his prodding to subside. “Willa asked me to join the student events planning committee, but I haven’t decided if I want to yet.” As my dad yammers on about how clubs are a rewarding and important factor towards my future, a small, metal box inlaid with mother of pearl catches my eye, its gentle frame sitting on the mantle. It has a strange looking triangular symbol on the front, perhaps a latch of sorts. Walking towards the box I interrupt my dad’s glory days story. “Hey Dad, where did that box come from?” My question stops him in his tracks and his gaze follows mine towards the mantle.
“Oh,” he says, his voice infused with regained excitement. “Isn’t it beautiful? I dug it out of the attic last weekend on one of your mother’s assigned mandatory chore days. I think it belonged to your great, great grandmother.”
“What’s in it?” I ask.
He leans back in his brown leather chair. “That’s a great question,” he hesitates, then stands and walks to the mantle, takes the box in his hand and shakes it. “I haven’t been able to open it,” he admits. A laugh escapes me at the sight of his frustration. He gestures towards me. “Here, try.”
I wrap my fingers around the edges, tracing the inlay detail. It really is beautiful, but it’s also really locked tight. “Are you even sure this is a box? I think it may just be a block of metal. It’s pretty solid,” I say.
The thought catches his curiosity as he sits back down at his desk with a furrowed brow, staring at it. “Never thought about that, Cate. Maybe you’re right.”
I squint, trying to memorize each detail, “Do you think I could have it?” The request surprises me and I’m not even sure why I asked. God knows, I don’t need the clutter. He smiles, “Sure, take it. It’s yours.”
I traipse back down the hall to my room smitten with my prize. Regardless of whatever it is, it is beautiful. I lay it down on my nightstand and it’s back to the books. I try to concentrate and for a while I begin to think my new found academic dedication is working. Though after about 45 minutes of trig homework, I decide a run sounds great after all.
There is something about running that always clears my head. As I cut through the Woodlands, my mind wanders back to my dream. I wish I were able to see the boy clearly. I wish I knew what it all meant. I push the remnants away from my mind, my lungs burn with the sensation of exhaustion and my muscles ache as I pull one leg in front of the other. The rest of the world disappears and by the time I reach the top of the rock, the sun