Chapter Sixteen
The steady thunk of a mallet directed Pip’s attention toward his bedroom window. He crossed the room and looked out of it, down at the front yard. Uncle Joe was hammering at a fence post between their house and the neighbor’s. That bit of fence had rotted and warped a long time ago, but now his aunt and uncle were working on drive-by curb appeal.
The house was up for sale and there was no going back.
For a while, Pip watched him. Uncle Joe worked with fluid precision, bringing the mallet down again and again as he wedged the new post into place. Over dinner, Pip had heard that Aunt Lauren had already networked with a few potential buyers. The house was in a prime location and in excellent condition, thanks to Aunt Lauren’s attention to detail and Uncle Joe’s handiness. They all expected the property to sell fairly quickly.
The house he’d called home for the last few years of his life would pass hands, and Pip would never see it again.
He chewed on his bottom lip and pulled away from the window to return to the bed. His suitcase lay open upon it, already partially filled with clothes. Pip glanced at his dresser, then back to the case.
It was a little early to pack, but it helped him come to terms with the imminent changes in his life and the decision he faced.
One way or another, his life inevitably had to change—from here, it was merely a matter of deciding what direction life would take him in.
Pip pushed a folded stack of clean underwear against the side of his suitcase, then fitted in a few shirts in the space left behind. Never materialistic, he didn’t have much to take with him. Most of his possessions had been liquidated during his transition from his parents’ home to Beaumont, mostly childish things. Pip had never craved stuff to own and fill his room, perhaps due to the influence of his forgotten past life.
Pip packed clothes, a few personal grooming products, and not much else. All of the furniture in his room belonged to Aunt Lauren and Uncle Joe, and they could do with it as they wished.
Pip wondered if his room at the new house would look the same as it did now.
What would college be like?
Pip had enough trouble fitting in at high school. College was an unknown. He crossed the room and pulled another stack of shirts from his dresser, then laid them into his suitcase beside the others.
“Pip?” Aunt Lauren called from downstairs. She’d taken some well-deserved vacation time in preparation for the move. “Can you come downstairs, please?”
“Sure thing,” Pip called back. He left his packing momentarily, taking the stairs two at a time until he’d arrived on the ground floor.
Aunt Lauren stood in the kitchen, the pup on the kitchen floor. He lay on his back, clutching a bone as long as himself between all four paws. He gnawed at the top, gnashing his teeth.
“Do you want me to take the puppy away?” Pip asked. He figured Aunt Lauren was upset the pup had made it downstairs. She may have relaxed her stance on keeping a dog after a few conversations with Uncle Joe, but she still wasn’t the pup’s biggest fan.
“No, he can stay as long as he doesn’t get underfoot,” she said. “Uncle Joe found something on the porch. Does it belong to you?”
Aunt Lauren pointed to a fur-lined cloak on the kitchen table.
At once, Pip knew it was another gift. The fur, the wooden button at the front, and the pale green outer material were too close a match to other things he associated with the Hunter.
He sucked in a breath and tried to still his racing pulse. Another gift. One last plea, or maybe, a goodbye present—something to keep Pip warm and secure even when they were far apart.
They had spent much of their time together, getting to know each other, and Pip had learned more about the magical other world known as Elsewhere along with something of the other dimensions.
They hadn't talked again about Pip leaving or staying. The Hunter had said it was Pip's decision. As much as Pip would've like help in making a choice, he didn't want to dwell on the topic of the sad choice between his family and life he knew, or his one true love. He saw it as an either-or—he couldn't have both.
A lump formed in his throat and he longed to get away so his aunt didn’t see him cry.
“It looks like a costume prop,” Aunt Lauren said. “I didn’t think you were involved with theater, so I didn’t think it belonged to you.”
He took a deep breath. “It belongs to me.” In a daze, he stepped forward and picked the cloak up from the table. It weighed heavily in his hand, made of animal skin with a soft, warm fur lining inside, and a durable water-resistant green fabric on the outside. The wood button that attached the two halves at the neck reminded Pip of the ones he’d seen himself wear in another life. “I’m sorry it got misplaced.”
“I don’t remember you having anything like it before,” Aunt Lauren remarked. She waved the spatula in her hand in the direction of the cloak. “Did you get it from school this year?”
“It’s a gift,” Pip whispered. He held the cloak to his chest and inhaled the scent. There was no mistaking the smell of crisp leaves and pine. The Hunter. “I must’ve set it down outside by accident when I started going through my things.”
“How bizarre it ended up on the porch.” Aunt Lauren turned back to her cooking. “Dinner’s going to be in about fifteen minutes, Pip. Make sure you wash up before then.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Pip said. He hugged the cloak close to his chest, then bowed his head respectfully and left the kitchen. As he did, the pup scrambled to his feet and followed. He dragged the bone across the kitchen tile and onto the hardwood in the hall.
“Pip!” Aunt Lauren shouted after him. “Don’t let your dog scratch the wood!”
Pip stopped, took the bone from the pup’s mouth, and continued upstairs. The pup hurried after him, taking the stairs at an awkward gait that would've been funny had Pip been in the mood to laugh.
When Pip made it back to his room, he set the bone on the floor, pushed his suitcase aside, then climbed onto his bed and wrapped himself up in the cloak. The Hunter thought he was leaving, and Pip… Pip wasn’t sure if that was true or not. He would be leaving this house, that was certain. The destination, though, was undecided.
No matter what move he made, someone would be hurt.
Pip stroked the furs and mulled it over. Could he bring himself to go to school for four years, wasting Aunt Lauren and Uncle Joe’s money, when he intended to do nothing with his education? Pip thought as soon as he was done with college, he’d go back to the woods where the Hunter would take care of him. All his life he’d been warned about limiting himself due to love, but Pip didn’t think any other person in the world understood what a dilemma he faced right now.
A god marked him, and he’d finally found where his soul belonged.
The pup climbed onto the bed next to him and nosed his way beneath the cloak to settle on Pip’s lap. Pip petted him, mildly comforted by his presence.
He hadn’t asked for his life to change so quickly, but fate had no brakes. Pip scratched the pup behind the ear and kept his gaze unfocused. Silently he prayed for an answer, the best solution to please everyone. Could he leave the life he’d always known—the safe and easy path—for a life he wasn’t sure his mortal mind would ever understand? Or could he deny the yearning in his soul and the very root of his existence for mortal comfort?
Pip bowed his head. He'd confided in his friend for a good reason, and he knew Alex was right—he had to be bold.
If he made mistakes, he could still fix them. His life wouldn’t end.
And even if it did, he knew one day he’d be back in the position he was now in, just in a different body and with a different set of memories.
Why put himself and the Hunter through that, when more than anything they wanted to be together?
The Pip alive now had one shot at happiness, and one chance to lead the life he wanted to lead. Settling out of fear would only steal away time and enjoyment from his life.
It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. It was his life—his happiness.
Pip tugged the cloak tighter and let the smell of the forest flood his lungs.
He’d made his choice.