Dead Men Tell No Tales » Places

         

Leo liked Mr. Salem. He was pretty cool for an older dude, never afraid of some ribbing. And he didn't tell horrible jokes and make (ugh) puns all the time like some parents. "That sounded like an order to me," he joked. "Don't want to disappoint him." He chuckled as he turned left on the staircase, halfway up.

Then he turned around entirely, facing the way he'd just come, and jumped forward, grabbing onto the floor above to pull himself up. He planted his feet at the base, where the bannister ended, and pushed up again, grabbing the top of the bannister at the last moment to propel himself into flipping over it. Legs tucked to avoid kicking the ceiling, then out for the landing. As he straightened up, he made a show of pulling the hem of his shirt down over his abs from his collar, where it had dropped while he was upside down. Showing off? Him? Perish the thought.

"So, I got your text," he said eventually as they walked down the hallway. That was the problem with hallways, walking was all you could do. Give him some monkey bars any day. "Both of'em, I mean. What's got you so riled? You think something happened to Matt and Jensen?" Leo didn't know either of them very well, but he did know Summer. She wouldn't get worked up over nothing. This was more than just two guys making themselves scarce, and whatever it was had her worried.

         

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“Deeper passion and greater understanding is felt when you observe and know not just the image or words, but that which is behind it. Its history.”

–Summer Usoa Salem

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“Have a good night, Rhoda. I look forward to seeing you next week.” Summer smiled as she waved an elderly lady out of the shop. She was closing up early to meet her best friends at her house to get ready for a party down by the lake. She was enjoying her summer break from college; she had much more time to do what she pleased. She would be graduating and simply eight more months and she would be free to do what she wanted. She had been thinking about taking a few years off before putting her knowledge and degrees to work. She wanted to open up a museum in Easton. Yes, they had a children's museum, but that was it. The children's museum. Sure, her museum wouldn't be the Louvre, but she felt that it would grow to become just as great as decades passed. Maybe she would hang her own art up in the museum. Or would that be conceited of her? To put her own art in her own museum. Would that be like making a public shrine to herself? It wasn't like it would be all her art; maybe two or three paintings. She smiled at the thought, feeling a bit giddy as she locked up the shop and hopped onto her bike.


She had a car, of course. But her license had been suspended when she got caught at an illegal drag race. She hadn't been racing, dear no. She was simply there with some friends. Rather than throwing her in jail, her father suspended her license for a year. She was stuck with with her bike. She didn't really mind though. She felt that it was healthier for the environment and strengthened her legs. With football season coming up, she would need it for cheering on the Stonehill Skyhawks. She had even bought a new pair of Beats by Dre to drown out the incessant and pestiferous Gospel singing on the way there. She found it absolutely funny at times how many people complimented her on what a good Christian girl she must be to end up having been so sweet and smart. God must have endowed her with many blessings in her life. She agreed with them that she was sweet, smart, and truly blessed. But she did have to argue some on the Christian part. And a few times on the “good girl” part. She doubted there were many “good Christian girls” attending narghile parties, throwing back bottles upon bottles of good beer.

Alcohol – One of the only non-organic and non homemade things that she would ingest.

The organic muncher offered few waves on her journey home, bent on getting home quick enough to change and get to the party at a decent time. Summer was eager to show off the new bikini she had bought last week at a flea market in Salem on her annual trip to pay homage to those who died of false accusations. Her house was on the south end of Easton, not really in a neighborhood. It was simply a large manor on a larger estate, built by her family. It was an old house and she loved it, yet to move into her own apartment. She came to a halt at the large gates before punching in the code and watching the large iron gates slide open before her, closing right behind her as she biked up the driveway. Her bike was parked neatly against the steps as she sped into the house, flying past her parents who looked ready for their own night out on the town. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do!” Her father called after her with a large smile, eliciting a laugh from her. “There's almost nothing you wouldn't do at a party!” Her father was...well. The sheriff wasn't exactly tame; Off duty, anyways. John gave a hearty laugh as he escorted his reserved wife out the door.

It didn't take her long to get ready. When you were a witch, getting dressed and bathed was even less of a chore than it already was. Her friends Amanda and Rowan were already waiting for her, playing with her jewelry and clothes in her sleeping nook. They were both what Mister Otis Ipswich would call “Kitchen Witches”, which was pretty much just a nasty name for Practitioners. They were simply humans who dabbled in basic Wiccan spells and potions, hardly capable of extraordinary feats, believing that magick required religion on their part when all it required was belief and some form of intelligence. Normally she wasn't one to go associating herself with Practitioners, but they had come from out of town and were involved in Wicca long before they had met Summer. Plus she liked them. She envied them at times, really. To be able to practice in plain sight and at the most be called a weirdo. Unlike she and others who would be called upon as abominations. She hated having to hide her magick in the shadows. It didn't stop her and the others from a few harmless pranks though.

“Dovey Love, you have got to let me borrow this skirt for the first day back to Stoned Hill.” Rowan's voice called out to her as she ended her shower and brushed her teeth in a hurry. As she spit out the froth, she rolled her eyes and called back to him. “Are you trying to kill poor Dean Maya? I don't think she's gotten over your Spring Collection. FYI, you don't have the legs for pencil skirts or day dresses.” Her comment easily got a rise out of Amanda and a pout from Rowan as she strode nude into the room, having gargled and rinsed. She had long since not cared about showing off her body. Sure, she was chaste. That didn't mean that she couldn't show off what she was rockin' right? Besides, Rowan was gay and Amanda was only into women if she was filled with tequila. Sure, they'd toss around minxy remarks in good fun. “Whatevs. Anyways, have you seen Trey lately? Those damn biceps!” Rowan purred as the two girls laughed.

“You whore! What will poor Robert think knowing you're already chasing another man?” Amanda gave a theatrical gasp that made Summer double over in her white and green bikini, Rowan smacking Amanda on her exposed thigh. “Woah, bitch! We don't talk about that shit out loud. The walls around this bitch got ears.” He stood and adjusted his hair with a flair on he could pull off. “Ain't nobody got to know about nobody. As an active working girl, you should know that as a rule of thumb.” He teased, dodging a thrown pillow. It was a wonder that her brother and all the friends she hung around hadn't already destroyed what innocence she had left. “We can discuss this by the fireplace tonight. We can stay in the cabin for the weekend since apparently someone is scared of bugs and snakes crawling into her ears and nose and mouth.” Her blue and hazel eyes turned towards who Amanda who shrugged.


Summer and Rowan rolled their eyes and got ready to head out, grabbing their backpacks. It would be a weekend to remember. But, when you hung around people in Trinitatem, the weekends were always unforgettable. “Are we bringing the babies? They deserve a weekend of free roam.” Amanda cooed as she motioned towards the animals resting in Summer's study nook. “Of course we are; Babs is dying for a hunt.” The chatter went on as they loaded up, raiding the house for the proper weekend supplies before jumping into Rowan‘s old pickup truck and taking off towards the far western part of town, following a dirt road deep into the woods. There was a lot of forest around Easton, but only one lake and it was man-made. Summer and her friends would normally have to go by foot or take the horses from the cabin to the lake, but her dad recently discovered the joys of ATVs.

While there were trails that led through the forest and to the lake and a road that led to a few cabins far into the forest, that's all there was. You would find no cabins by the lake or roads wide enough for trucks or cars to make it down by the water. There was a road that led two miles into the forest and opened into a space for people to park before trekking down to the lake. “Alright, now don't go bothering the horses. Have fun.” Summer set down her three pets on the ground outside of the cabin and smiled as they slithered, scurried, and ran off to have their own fun. With the booze secured to the back of the four wheelers the three friends were soon on their merry way, giving big whoops and hollers as they rode through the forest. They drew closer and closer to the sound of music, the sky growing brighter with flashes of light. Summer was greeted upon arrival by a few cheers and calls, mostly from those of the cheerleaders with drinks in their hands – which happened to be only five of them – and a few of the football players. She and her two cohorts shimmied their way over with the drinks, setting them on the ground before launching into conversation and festive dancing with their friends.