Dusk County Crossing

By Erik Hyrkas

Morgan's biggest problem is high school gossip mongers, until the curse. She never wanted to become a sorceress or travel to other worlds. Trading one memory at a time to save her friends, Morgan is forgetting who she is and where she came from. Dragons and wizards are the beginning of the adventure waiting for her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erik Hyrkas
• Release date: Feb 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370618279

Erik Hyrkas

Erik lives in Minnesota with his two children. He enjoys different creative outlets including sketching, developing computer games, and writing stories. His hobbies include flying small planes, camping, hunting, fishing, and playing massively multiplayer online roleplaying games on Friday nights. He was raised in Ely, Minnesota and went to college in Duluth.

Book preview

Chapter 2.

I walked into school Monday morning awash in nostalgia. Cleaning out the tools in my grandfather’s garage workshop brought back memories of the Barbie dollhouse he made me when I was six and the pink and blue dresser I still used from when I was nine. Oh, and the wooden logic puzzle he made for me when I was twelve. I brushed past the senior lockers as I pondered whether I ever showed him the appreciation he deserved and found myself standing in front of my open locker without remembering the rest of my walk from my truck.

Morgan? Kristin asked in an irritated tone.

Oh! Hi! How was your weekend? I asked, then regretted doing so. Of course her weekend was terrible. She found out Austin was leaving. I am such an idiot sometimes.

I’ve said your name three times, she said.

That only works with Bloody Mary.

Kids and teachers bustled past and around us.

Have you talked to Austin? she asked.

Not since Friday, I said. Here it comes, I thought. I dug in my purse for a tissue.

We went out to my parent’s cabin Friday night after you left and had a little bonfire, she said.

Oh, that sounds fun, I said.

Not really, Kristin said. He was distant the whole night, and I haven’t seen him since. Do you know if he’s mad at me?

I looked past Kristin to Austin’s unoccupied locker. No way, I said. Maybe he had family stuff going on or something.

I considered telling her about Austin’s imminent move, but I figured Austin needed to deliver this news. If I told her, she might be mad at me for knowing before she knew. Illogical, no doubt, but I saw no reason to risk her wrath.

Do you know that tenth-grader Mandy Huffman? Kristin folded her arms. The one who wears those skanky skirts.

Um, I said. That describes half of all tenth graders. Why?

I saw her talking with Austin the other day, Kristin said. Do you think something is going on?

I blinked. He probably needed directions to the nearest mirror.

I’m serious, she said.

So am I.

Kristin glared at me, then closed her locker harder than necessary and stormed away.

Kristin, wait up! I called.

The bell rang and I glanced up at the wall clock. On the other side of school, Algebra would be starting soon. I sighed, grabbed my books, and walked off toward class. Most days Austin and I walked to Algebra 2 together, but he must have been running late, which sometimes happened on Monday mornings and so Austin’s empty desk didn’t surprise me when I arrived at class. Not until the final bell rang. Maybe he is sick or he is still packing. He had never skipped school before, but then, he needed near-perfect attendance to play football and now he was leaving this school.

By lunch my day needed to end. Austin missed school for unknown reasons, and Kristin wasn’t talking to me. I tried to make up with her in Chemistry, but she ignored me. I knew Austin had wandering eyes, but I also knew he would not cheat on her. I wanted to tell her the real reason I suspected he had been quiet on their date, but he needed a chance to explain for himself before I told her he was moving to Colorado.

As I left the lunchroom, after eating alone, I overheard two tenth-graders talking.

Did you hear what happened to Mandy? one girl asked. I vaguely recognized her. She might have been a Sarah or a Lisa.

What happened? the other girl asked. I definitely recognized this one, Jenny Decker, the girl who inadvertently tweezed off her entire eyebrows earlier in the year.

Mandy tripped and fell down the escalator at the mall. She broke her jaw, Lisa said. Now she’s drinking from a straw.

Wow! Jenny said.

I slipped past them to the hall and went to my locker. This bit of gossip might cheer Kristin up. Not that I thought Mandy’s fall and injury were good news, but she would recover and this tidbit might help bring peace back between myself and Kristin.

I didn’t see Kristin the rest of the school day, however, which was never a good sign. She must have lugged all of her books for her afternoon classes around with her to avoid me.

I opened my locker, and all thoughts of Kristin and Austin evaporated. On the hook next to my backpack, an uneven rock dangled from a silver chain, the same pendant I had seen at my grandmother’s house. I stared at the ugly piece of jewelry and then looked around the hallway.

The last time I saw it, the necklace was in a trash bag in the back of my truck, a trash bag left at the landfill. Could the bag have torn and the necklace fallen into my truck bed somehow? A prankster might have found the necklace, unlocked my locker, and left it for me. I grabbed the necklace by the chain, in much the same way my grandmother had, carried it over to the trashcan in the corner of the hall, and dropped the necklace into it. Two things were apparent. I needed a new lock and somebody had a very odd sense of humor.

I glanced around, expecting to see the joker watching for my reaction. Nobody was watching me. I grabbed my book bag and marched out of school, irritated that I’d need to buy a new lock.

As I opened my truck, a voice behind me asked, You and Austin are together now?

I turned. Janet Everette held out her phone, facing me. A picture on the screen showed Austin leaning close to me in the hall. From that angle the picture gave the impression Austin was kissing my neck, but in reality he was whispering a question about what to buy for Kristin’s birthday. I was smiling in the picture and looking upward as if I was enjoying the kiss, when in reality I was thinking of suggesting he buy her better taste in music. Kristin was walking away in the background.

I growled. No, we’re friends. That’s all.

Close friends. She smirked. Must have all the benefits.

I rolled my eyes. Listen, Vanity Fair. Nothing is happening between Austin and me. Find somebody else to gossip about. I jumped in my truck and started the engine. When I had time I would find that picture on Instagram and report it for indecency.

Minutes later I drove past McDonald’s. Austin’s little black Mazda sat in the parking lot right where the vehicle had been Friday night. I guessed he was waiting to catch Kristin before her evening shift. I hoped he would tell her about the whole moving situation and clear the air before Kristin came to any more crazy conclusions.

Chapter 3.

When I pulled up at home, my dad’s car already sat in the driveway. I lugged my overstuffed backpack out of the passenger’s seat and made my way to the house. I was thinking about what I might tell Kristin. She suspected Austin was cheating on her when he was really moving away and didn’t know how to tell her. Would it make things better or worse if I told her? I decided Austin needed to tell her or she would know that he confided in me before he told her, which would not go over well. After dinner and homework I would stop by the restaurant and talk to Austin. I expected he would be doing his homework and waiting for Kristin to finish her shift.

Our house smelled of garlic, onion, roast, warm bread, and other less identifiable scents.

I’m home, I called out to the house.

In the kitchen, my dad answered.

I set my bag by the stairs—I would lug my homework upstairs later—and walked back to the kitchen.

Hey, sweetie, he said. How was your day?

Good, I lied.

My dad already wore his white chef’s uniform for work, which meant that he was leaving soon. He pulled bread from the oven. A slow cooker sat on the counter with a family-sized roast, carrots, potatoes, and other vegetables inside. The three of us would eat this for a week.

Smells amazing, I said.

Would you say your day was super good, average good, or sort of good? he asked.

Sort of good, I answered, knowing he would pry less if I answered without a pause.

He nodded. "One of those days. Well, this should help."

He broke off a hunk of fresh bread, a parcel of fresh nirvana, and passed it to me. I bit into the warm, soft bread, let out a small moan, and rolled my eyes heavenward.

Delicious. I smiled and gave him a hug.

My dad wasn’t always the best with words, but he sure was talented with food. This was his way of trying to make me feel better.

I have to head to work, he said. Would you help your mom with the groceries when she gets home?

Sure thing, I said.

He kissed me on the top of my head as he passed. Hang in there, kiddo. Bad days can happen to you, or you can happen to bad days.

Thanks for the fortune-cookie wisdom, Dad, I said. You should stick to making bread.

His eyes glinted as he smiled. See you tomorrow.

He left me standing in the kitchen, eating warm bread and pondering life. Eventually I broke out of my reverie, set the dinner table for two, unloaded the dishwasher, and then sat down on the living room couch with my homework. My mother opened the front door with an armful of groceries right about the time I finished my History and Algebra assignments. I hopped up and ran to help her.

Thank you, she said as I relieved her of an armful of paper bags. I hear we have reason to celebrate!

Oh, no, I muttered. What rumor did you hear?

You and, if my sources are correct, a handsome young man named Austin are a really hot item. She could not contain a smile.

Mom! Austin is Kristin’s boyfriend, I said, forcing out as much exasperation as I could manage. Who told you this?

Denise Everette was in with a toothache today, and she shared the latest, juiciest gossip, she said.

Ugh. I’m going to guess that is Janet’s mother, I said. Janet ambushed me on my way out of school today. I shook my head. I better track down Kristin before she hears this craptastic rumor from somebody other than me.

Probably wise, my mom said. If it makes you feel any better, she needed a root canal today.

That does put me in a better mood.

Smells good in here. What did your father make us?

Roast, I said. It looks as good as it smells.

We ate while my mom discussed the horror of some people’s dental hygiene and how her newest hygienist was still learning the ropes. By the time I cleared the dinner table I never wanted to be a dentist. The clock read 7:02. Kristin would get off work in a half hour.

I’m going to run to McDonald’s, I said.

Have you done your homework?

Too busy doing drugs, I said.

My mom sighed. Had to ask.

With a roll of my eyes I grabbed my purse and opened the door. I shouldn’t be out too late. I need to talk to Kristin, but then I’ll be home.

My mom pulled out her eBook reader and settled onto the couch. Sounds great, she said without looking at me.

I had to stop and get gas along the way, and after hitting every red light, I didn’t pull into the McDonald’s parking lot until 7:36. I noticed Austin’s car was gone and Kristin’s aging white Toyota RAV4 was not in the lot either. I sighed. I had missed her. Now I’d have to drive to her house, which was about twenty minutes further from my house. I’d be driving home in the dark at this rate. I drummed my fingers on my steering wheel, trying to decide whether to go home now or drive to Kristin’s house.

Putting my truck back into drive, I headed down the street, away from home. Twenty-five minutes later I pulled up next to the curb in front of Kristin’s house. The setting sun left the sky peach on one horizon and fading to blue-indigo on the opposite horizon.

The upstairs bedroom light shown through the white gauzy window curtains, and I made out the vague silhouette of my best friend. When I got out of my truck I felt as much as heard the deep bass of a heavy song throbbing out of the house.

I rang the front doorbell and stood there for a full five minutes before deciding that there was no chance Kristin could hear me. I pulled out my phone and sent her a text. Another five minutes passed, then I retreated to my truck. As I prepared to get in, an idea struck me. I grabbed a few pebbles from the road and climbed up on the bed of my pickup, then threw the tiny rocks at her window. At first nothing happened, then the window curtain twitched. In an instant my feet were swept out from under me and I fell hard to the pavement. My ankle gave under the strain, sending a shock of pain up through my leg.

Brakes squealed, and I looked up in time to see a blue van slide to a stop inches from me. The driver, a clean-cut man wearing a beige delivery uniform, hopped out of his vehicle.

Are you okay? Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Are you hurt?

I blinked up at him, blinded by his headlights. I tried to shield my eyes.

Ouch, I muttered.

Should I call an ambulance? Don’t move, he said as he pulled out his phone.

Other than a deep sense of self-loathing, I’m fine, I said. Help me up.

You shouldn’t move, he said.

You didn’t hit me, I said. I fell from my truck.

He knelt next to me. You scared the crap out of me. I thought I killed you.

That makes two of us, I said. Please, help me up.

He offered me his hand, but as I tried to stand, excruciating pain seared through my left ankle. Crap.

What’s wrong? he asked.

My ankle, I think it might be broken.

Don’t put your weight on it, he said.

Great idea. Help me into my truck, I said. I can drive.

You really need to have somebody look at that, he said.

I will, but I don’t need an ambulance. Way too expensive.

Let me drive you, he said. It’s the least I can do.

I can’t have a stranger take me anywhere. I pulled my purse closer, trying to dig for