Fala

By Dana Kittendorf

Fifteen-year-old Michelle knows she has been fooling herself by thinking she could go on living happily-ever-after. When her father announces that he has been deployed and that she and her brothers must temporarily move to a mountainous Pennsylvania town, Michelle tries to make the best of it. As she adjusts to her new life in the middle of nowhere, Michelle cannot help but feel change is in the air.

Plagued by dreams, voices, whispers in the wind, and a crow who seems to be watching and guiding her, Michelle journeys from the disappointment in having to move yet again to an extraordinary discovery of a hidden reality, new friends with uncommon gifts, and a unique ability manifesting within herself. As the months pass, the original disappointment is replaced with the fear of saying goodbye to the place Michelle now realizes she most belongs. Guided by spirits, Michelle adopts a new mantra as she searches for her chosen path. But it is only after she crosses a bridge between the past, present, and future when everything suddenly becomes clear.

Fala is the poignant story of a teenagers journey to the truth as she explores eerie occurrences, a trail of dreams, a strange crow, and most importantly, the power within herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491773420

Dana Kittendorf

Dana Kittendorf considers herself a student of non-fiction who delves into the unseen and incorporates those metaphysical themes into her works of fiction. Dana works at a highly rated independent school in North Palm Beach. She resides in West Palm Beach with her husband and two daughters.

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Fala

Copyright © 2015 Dana Kittendorf.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4917-7343-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-7342-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015914152

iUniverse rev. date: 09/30/2015

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Acknowledgments

I dedicate the story of Fala to my husband and daughters, who stood aside, patiently allowing me to live in Fala’s world for hours at a time. And I would especially like to thank my mother-in-law, Cynthia, for imparting her expertise and wisdom to me, helping me to grow as a writer.

Chapter 1

S itting on the merry-go-round with Stephanie, waiting for my brothers to get out of school, I was a million miles away when I heard, Michelle! What’s wrong with you? Stephanie was clearly aggravated. I’ve been talking to you for ten minutes, and I bet you didn’t hear a word I’ve said!

She was right; I hadn’t been listening. Stephanie’s concerns were typically limited to boys, makeup, or the discovery of split ends in her long, beautiful dark hair.

My concerns at that moment were how much homework my brothers might have, how much homework I knew that I had, and that dream. The dream that likes to visit me from time to time. Lately, though, the visits had been increasing in frequency.

I’m sorry. It’s just that I had that dream again, I said.

What dream?

Remember—the one where I’m in a cornfield and I’m terrified when the men come on horses?

Yeah, I remember, she said, appearing to suppress a laugh.

It’s not funny, Stephanie! I feel really frightened in that dream, and this is the third time I’ve had it in less than a month.

Okay, Michelle, I’m sorry. It just sounds funny when you talk about cornstalks. Tell me again, from the beginning. I promise I won’t laugh.

Her superficial way of seeing things sometimes frustrated me. At the ripe old age of fifteen, I had to be a stand-in mom to my brothers. Stephanie had a loving, doting mom who seemed to enjoy surprising her daily. Sometimes Stephanie would come home to a freshly cleaned room, a new outfit laid out on her bed, or promises of weekend mom-and-daughter mani-pedis. She seemed oblivious to the differences in our lives. Of course talk of cornfields would seem funny to her. I don’t think she’d ever been out of the city—or out of her cushiony comfort zone, for that matter. I sighed and reminded myself that it wasn’t her fault.

I proceeded to recount my dream to her again. She listened to me talk about being in the middle of a cornfield, surrounded by stalks taller than me, feeling pleased that there would be plenty of corn to harvest. And how my peaceful feeling quickly turned to fear as men approached on horses and I tried, unsuccessfully, to hide from them.

I know it sounds funny when I say it out loud, but it seems so real. There has to be a reason why I’ve dreamt it over and over, especially since it’s happening more often now.

Maybe because it’s autumn now, and autumn is harvest time, Stephanie offered.

Yeah—maybe you’re right, I said. I didn’t agree, but I could see I wasn’t going to find my answer from her. At least she seemed to care enough to try.

My brothers, Dillon and Jason, were headed our way. We usually walked Stephanie home first and then continued to our house. Sometimes her mom would invite us in for cookies. I think she felt sorry for us.

When my parents, Heidi and Tom, decided to go their separate ways six months ago, there was no doubt about who we would live with—Dad. Mom had an adventurous spirit. She didn’t like to stay in one place for too long. The three years in Virginia Beach that I was so thankful for started to take a toll on her. Dad and I could see her playful, upbeat demeanor starting to fade, and depression set in. So we weren’t surprised when Mom sought out a career that would keep her moving around.

She took a job setting up new retail stores for a chain of clothing lines that were quickly gaining popularity. She was skilled at design layout and merchandising. Once a new location was up and running, she and the rest of the implementation crew were off to a new destination.

Mom would fly home for a weekend from time to time, but she and Dad agreed that the brief visits were taking an emotional toll on my brothers. For me, it wasn’t so bad. I always thought of her like a sister—and not the older one.

Dad was handsome—sandy hair, green eyes, six feet two. I’d sometimes notice the neighbor ladies looking out their windows when he arrived home from work. I think he knew, too, because he took his time gathering his items from his truck. He’d even walk around his truck kicking the tires as if to check the air pressure, maybe a little too often than was necessary. I suppose he liked attention as much as anyone else. I just watched with amusement.

Mom was petite—about five feet three with long, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. I definitely looked more like Dad with my light brown hair and hazel eyes.

The split was as harmonious a split as I guess a marriage can have. I could see the sadness seep through on my father’s face every now and then, but he quickly snapped out of it—for my brothers and me.

However, the choice we made wasn’t without complications. Dad was in the navy—and had been most of my life. Fortunately he was based stateside. He’d reached the rank of chief petty officer and had more say in where he was stationed than he had in my younger years. I was hopeful that Virginia Beach would be our last home as he rode out the rest of his career in the navy.

Although I was only fifteen, I knew I could handle it. I could take care of my brothers, do my homework, and keep the house clean. And I wasn’t a bad cook. Dillon was eight, and Jason seven, and they kept each other entertained most of the time. I was finally settled in Virginia Beach; three years was the longest time we’d spent in one place.

Virginia Beach wasn’t so bad, with beaches, malls, and friends. My group of friends may have been small, but they were my comfort zone. I was not particularly outgoing, athletic, or popular, so it took time for me to build enough trust to open up to new people.

With Dad in the military, I had gone to about five different schools in my lifetime. Feeling as if I belonged somewhere didn’t come easily. But after the last few years in the same place, I was getting there.

Our typical routine consisted of me getting my brothers ready for school every morning, making breakfast, and getting them on their bus. My bus came a little later, so I had some time to myself. After school, they’d do their homework, under strict orders from Dad to do as I said. And after I got my homework out of the way, I’d make dinner unless Dad was bringing it home. It was working out just fine until the day Dad brought something home besides dinner plans—bad news.

After walking Stephanie home and saying our good-byes, my brothers raced ahead of me. As I rounded the corner, I saw Dad’s truck in the driveway. He was home early. I picked up the pace and was greeted by him as soon as I stepped through the door.

I hugged him, glad to see that he was home before my brothers and me for a change. Everything okay? I asked.

Michelle, I’m taking you and your brothers out tonight. You pick the place.

Wow, I thought, Dad’s rewarding me for all my hard work. I was beaming inside. I got ready and came downstairs to two hungry boys glaring at me. Sorry, guys, but I have hair to style, not buzz cuts like you. It takes me a little bit longer.

Dad laughed.

Seafood was what I wanted. Dad knew just where to take us—Captain Charlie’s Crab Shack, my favorite place. The restaurant was situated right next to the Intracoastal Waterway, where lighter water vessels could travel most of the coastline without the hazards of being in the open sea. You could eat on the balcony and throw bread and crackers down to the fish. Of course, Dillon and Jason tried to throw other stuff down to the fish as well—mostly their vegetables.

Something was different with Dad, though. He seemed a little solemn, not his usual silly, willing to do anything to make us laugh self. I thought maybe he missed Mom or was tired from work. He looked at me, hesitant. Michelle, I’ve got new orders, he said.

Suddenly, I was unaware of anything else around me. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t want to hurt him, because it wasn’t his fault. I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to push the tears back down.

Where are we moving? I asked, knowing there was no way around it.

Honey, I have orders for an eight-month deployment, he said.

Okay, I said, still waiting for his answer to where we were moving.

Michelle, I have to go out to sea for eight months. You and your brothers will be going to live with Aunt Karen while I’m gone.

I sat there for a moment, letting it sink in. I had thought he meant we’d be moving somewhere as a family. I also knew, instinctively, that Mom coming home wasn’t an option. Had my father asked her to, she would have, of course, but I didn’t want him to. My brothers were adjusting to her absence, and her coming home only to leave again later would be even more damaging.

Both of Dad’s sisters, Karen and Sandra, lived in northeast Pennsylvania. Aunt Karen lived in a mountainous town called Hilton. I think the name was Hill Town at one time but was shortened to Hilton. Anyway, I thought of it as Hicksville. It was fun to visit every other summer or so, but to live there?

Aunt Karen was reserved, loving, and motherly. She had shoulder-length, sandy-brown hair and hazel eyes. I resembled her more than I did my own mother. She lived alone on a farm left to her by her husband, Gary. It was mountainous property that had been in his family for many years. He had wanted her to have it—all sixty acres. Gary had been a deep-sea fisherman. He worked away for months at a time but then returned to Karen and their farm in the off-seasons. It was a very dangerous job, and it had claimed his life about five years ago when he and two others were thrown overboard during a squall in the North Atlantic Ocean.

Aunt Sandra was more free-spirited and outspoken, and she didn’t seem to care too much about what others thought of her. She worked hard, though, running her flower shop, Simply Floral, mostly by herself. At five feet six, she was slightly taller than Aunt Karen, with the same color hair and eyes. Her hair was much longer though, adding to her hippie-like appearance and personality.

I suppose it was inevitable. I had been fooling myself by thinking we could go on happily-ever-after like this. While I was confronting the news of my comfortable life being torn apart, my brothers were getting excited.

Cool, Dad! Can we get a four-wheeler? Dillon asked. Aunt Karen has all that land. Jason and I could ride around, not bothering anyone, he said, appearing to be building a case before Dad could even say no.

I’ll take it into consideration, Dillon, Dad replied, laughing and shaking his head.

What about you, Michelle? Do you have anything to say? he asked.

Oh, sorry, Dad. I was just thinking. I had drifted off, imagining myself wearing overalls to school. I couldn’t make Dad feel any worse than he already did, so I pretended to be on board with it. Yeah, Dad, it’ll be okay. It’s just for a while, though, right? Just for eight months and then we can come back here?

That’s the plan, honey.

I took a deep breath and sat up straight, trying to be strong. Okay, I thought, I can do this.

Aunt Karen was excited about our arrival. She kept calling in the weeks before the move to tell us what new things she had bought for our rooms. Aunt Karen didn’t have any children of her own and was alone except for her orange tabby, Pumpkin. This was fun for her. I didn’t want to tell her I liked to decorate my own room. It wasn’t important. Besides, it was only temporary.

My aunt Sandra and my cousin Leigh lived in the neighboring valley of Oleander. Leigh was only a year younger than me, and we always had fun together. That was one good thing to look forward to.

Dad got a few days off to get us moved. We arrived in early October. It was cooler than what I was used to, and I quickly realized we didn’t have enough warm clothes.

Dad, I think we need some money for new clothes—warm clothes, I said.

All taken care of, he replied. Aunt Karen will take you shopping this weekend.

We got settled and spent our last two days with Dad before he had to leave. It was an emotional good-bye for Dad and me. Dillon and Jason seemed okay, however. I don’t think they were aware of just how long eight months really was. I think that was a good thing, though.

It was the first day at my new school. I knew things would be different, but I wasn’t prepared for what I encountered. Elementary, middle, and high schools were all in one building. Somewhere I learned the meaning of culture shock, and now I was seeing it firsthand. I went from being one of three hundred kids in my class in Virginia to being in a class of less than one hundred. And in Virginia Beach, kids typically classified themselves as breakers, surfers, or skaters,—these kids identified themselves as farmers or nonfarmers. I was never sure I fit in when I was living in the city, but I couldn’t see myself ever fitting in here. Thank God I had my cousin, just a town away, to look forward to seeing.

Surprisingly, no one hesitated to speak to me. A few girls approached me, took me under their wings, and introduced me to everyone. They were thorough in making sure I knew who was who. Denise, Heather, Becky, Sam, and Madison were their names, and they did their best to include me. I suppose I served as something that broke up the monotony for them. Either way, I appreciated it, regardless of their motives.

I’ll admit, I was a little afraid to trust them right away. I wondered if they were genuinely friendly or if they were just observing and analyzing me so they would have someone to talk about later. Well, the way I looked at it—I didn’t have much of a choice. I was nobody, and I was stuck in the middle of nowhere. I was definitely in cow country. And there were no shortage of cornstalks. Seeing them brought my thoughts back to my anxiety-inducing dreams. Nothing would make me feel more comfortable than seeing Leigh, though. The weekend couldn’t come fast enough.

When I visited them during the summer, Leigh and I would do crazy things. We’d stay up late, eating an entire box of cereal, or camp outside without a tent. We thought we were sneaky and operating outside of Aunt Sandra’s radar with our silly, pointless antics, but looking back, I think she probably knew everything we did. The thought made me giggle to myself.

The valley of Oleander, where Aunt Sandra and Leigh lived, was about twenty minutes from Hilton. Come to think of it, everything was at least twenty minutes from Hilton, even the grocery store. The valley was still country, but at least it had small shops lining the downtown streets and a movie theater.

Aunt Sandra and Leigh came up to the farm on Friday night to see my brothers and to take me back down with them. One week down—I had survived, but I still felt as if I had entered some foreign world.

As we were driving back to their home, I noticed Halloween decorations on all the houses. Halloween was my favorite time of year. With the fall leaves, cool air, and Halloween spirit, maybe being here had its perks.

A feeling overcame me, a feeling that change was in the air, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It wasn’t the obvious change of moving here but something else. Maybe I was caught up in the autumn mystique of Oleander.

I walked around Aunt Sandra’s house, getting reacquainted. The smells, the sound of the old wooden staircase, and the memories of silly stuff Leigh and I used to do were all coming back to me. Their snooty Siamese cat, Jada, glared at me. I took that as a challenge, so I snatched her up and kissed her against her will. She seemed appalled at first, but I noticed that she