Nellie started to settle into a routine where the only abnormality was her dog poofing into smoke during their nightly walks. She avoided asking Ira about the claim that her mother was a dragon; he did not mention it whatsoever in the sparse messages he sent, and she was no longer confident she heard him correctly. She drummed up the courage and curiosity to comb through every word of Rhys’s letters to Nathalie, reading one or two every night before bed.
There was still an unaddressed tension between she and Nathalie. Nellie had sat with the knowledge of her true connection to Nathalie long enough to not be angry over the long, long deception, and Nathalie for her part would tell her at random that she was open to speak more, but Nellie had not taken her up on that. There was something to be said, but what it was she could not grasp.
The lunchroom was extra noisy. She sat happily among Ava and the others as she had been doing since returning to school regularly at the end of January. She raised her eyes at the prompting hisses from Olivia and Sophia, tracking a sandy-haired boy as he passed their table without a look.
“OMG,” Emma cried, burying her face in her hands. “Mason hates me!”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Nellie said on autopilot, echoing the sentiments of the other girls.
“I should’ve just given him the same generic, cheap Valentine like everyone else,” Emma lamented. “Why’d I have to give him a real card!”
“Uh, because you like him,” Sophia said, rolling her eyes. “Like, how else was he supposed to know? You won’t just tell him.”
Nellie was confident there was no need for Emma to say anything. Even she had picked up on Emma’s crush after a complete week of school. She pulled back from the coddling to choke down the rest of her food, stealing looks at her phone to check the time and see if anyone tried messaging her.
“Just let him think about it all weekend. I’m sure he’ll say something to you Monday,” Ava said. “So, Perenelle, any plans this weekend?”
“Not really,” Nellie said, shrugging. “Webb’s February break is starting, so I’m supposed to go for a tour. Maybe an interview.” She slid her tray away. “I won’t be able to do my shadow day until December.”
“Looks like you’re stuck here longer than you expected,” Olivia said with the slightest hint of meanness.
Nellie forced a smile.
She skated through the rest of the day in her usual bored daze. She doddled a crude white screamer in art class as Ava attempted the lesson of shading the dodgeball set on a stool under a bright light. She turned her triangles into houses in geometry while Sophia kept pace with the lesson–half unfinished when the bell rung.
She took her time packing up her backpack and walking out to the car rider awning. She headed towards Olivia and Emma, but was blindsided by somebody and found herself on her butt.
“Sorry!” Mason grabbed her arm and yanked her up. “There you go. Hey, Will, I still got your gum!”
Mason waved a pack of gum and raced off among the crowd.
Nellie rubbed her backside and hobbled towards Emma and Olivia, slowing her pace further at the wounded expression on Emma’s face and the daggers Olivia shot her. Her stomach sunk. She took a quick step over, needing to explain herself, but was stopped by the monitor calling her name to inform her that the Crown Victoria had arrived.
“How was school today,” Nathalie asked as they left the grounds.
“If I do get into Webb, should I just start for highschool,” Nellie asked. “At the rate this is taking, I might get in for half of eighth grade, and I don’t know how worth it that’ll be.”
Nathalie pursed her lips, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “Is this your way of saying school was not as terrible,” she asked.
“It’s always terrible,” Nellie said heatedly.
They fell into silence and soon were rolling down the long, paved driveway. The front yard right up to the front steps was also covered in black asphalt. A pick-up truck and a utility van were parked in this space, the truck being a roofer and the utility van being an electrician. The roofer–a rail thin man that was younger than he looked with a cigarette in his mouth–stood near his truck with a clipboard, tapping his foot impatiently.
“See to that animal, please,” Nathalie said. “He’s locked in your room with a package of jerky that I'm sure won’t keep him quiet much longer.”
Ash was still gnawing the last piece of jerky when she entered her room. Her bed was ripped apart with the comforter and pillows shredded.
“Ash,” Nellie cried, frustration welling up until tears poured from her eyes. She took deep breathes, not stopping the tears but stopping the want to scream. “It-it’s not your fault. You’re a wild boy.” She wiped her eyes, still not stopping the tears.
She half-crawled beneath her bed to retrieve her father’s letters. She rifled through them, not looking for any specific one. She paused as she found her list of cryptids from the diner. She extracted it, smirking and re-drying her eyes as they fell on ‘smoke wolf’ written in the middle.
“You’re very real,” Nellie said to Ash. She ran her finger across ‘griffin/gryphon’ at the bottom. “Cecily is very real. So was the white screamer.” She patted the space next to her to encourage Ash to lay near her instead of at the door, resting her arm across him as he complied. “I saw a wampus cat in Florida, so I’m better that’s real here too.” Her eyes lingered on the first creature on her list: Cumberland dragon.
Tennessee having a dragon story was likely the reason Ira was wandering about in the more rural parts of the state. She opened her phone to Ira’s messages, frowning as her last one–asking him to explain what he meant about her mother being a dragon–was still unread. She typed: Did you find anything on the Cumberland dragon? She stared at the messages for several minutes, both staying unread, and put her phone away with a deep sigh.
---
The weather warmed as February neared the end. It was still too cold for Nellie’s subtropic sensibilities, but she was able to ditch her thick, parka for a fleece-lined zip-up. The heathered gray with stitched flowers did not go with her Christmas dress whatsoever, but it was less bulky to place on her lap as she sat in the small, bright office with Nathalie, smiling with practice at the Enrollment Counselor.
Nathalie wore lipstick for the occasion. She kept subtly licking her teeth to be sure no smears of red were on her teeth before she spoke to the middle-aged woman on the other side of the desk. “Enrollment is a touch different from my time,” Nathalie said. She smiled without showing teeth. “Of course, I expect it to be different being over three decades later and not an international applicant.”
“I have pulled up your records, Ms. Herle,” the counselor said, scanning a paper before her. “You show great aptitude for economics and sociology, and seemed to enjoy meeting all the other international applicants.” She gave a friendly smile. “How did the internship at the Miami Consulate go? Did it lead to a wonderful job opportunity like you hoped?”
“For a time… but I discovered the fun world of metal art,” Nathalie said. “But I hope my good marks in economics and sociology will help highlight what an asset Perenelle will be. And, of course, any help with her enrollment is greatly appreciated. As stated, the process is a little more involved than when I completed it.”
Nellie drifted in and out of the boring, academic talk. She slumped in her chair, straightening as Nathalie tapped her leg with her foot. She glanced around to keep herself occupied, spying photos of outdoor trips with students, horse competitions, and some type of party. She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at one of the hiking trips.
“Is that a bigfoot,” Nellie asked.
Nathalie’s already fair complexion paled, this being lost on the counselor who had turned to see what Nallie was looking at with amused confusion.
“A bigfoot,” she asked. “Where? Which one?”
“Perenelle,” Nathalie whispered sternly.
Nellie leapt up. She half skipped around the desk, a relieved and cheerful smile now replacing her practiced interview one. She had not been met with a dismissal or a jeer. She pointed to a hairy leg in the far background of the photograph, jutting out from behind a large tree.
“It looks almost like a stump, or part of this tree, but the marks don’t match up,” Nellie said. “The bark ends here,” she touched the picture, “and this is fur. It looks like a weird pattern; like it would look like bark if the bigfoot was very, very still.” Her heart pitterpattered. “Where is this? Is it on campus? I’ve never seen a bigfoot. I did smell a skunk bear… once.”
The office was still. Nellie stiffened, slowly turning to see the counselor’s polite amusement had given way to mild disturbance. Nathalie had her face in her hands, shaking her head.
Nellie laughed nervously. “Kidding! Obviously, I’m kidding,” she said. “I’m… embracing the local lore.”
“She has a proclivity towards fairy stories and how they shaped narratives of a place,” Nathalie jumped in. Then added, “A rather important part of the history of a place and its people are the stories they tell each other, do you not agree?”
The counselor reluctantly agreed but was still eyeing Nellie warily. She finished laying out what steps they would need to take without any further delay via smalltalk and friendliness. They quietly left, walking briskly off the campus and towards the tiny main street of Bell Buckle.
Bell Buckle was old. It felt old. It looked old, with the building being semi-old west designed and brick. Those roaming in and out of the storefronts were also old, moving slowly over the wide sidewalk.
“Sorry,” Nellie murmured.
“Are you,” Nathalie responded coolly.
“I thought she was interested,” Nellie said. “I thought maybe she….”
“She what? Believes,” Nathalie asked. She sighed in exasperation. “Of course she doesn’t. Why would she?”
“Why wouldn’t she,” Nellie retorted. “She had a picture–.”
“Perenelle, enough!” Nathalie pinched at her eyes. “Perhaps we salvaged the situation, but now we’ll always wonder should you not be accepted.”
Nellie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as Nathalie moved to open the door for the combination bakery/antique store. A lump was forming in her throat as her eyes prickled. She flinched when Nathalie turned to her, her tears finally cutting down her cheeks at the aggravated look in Nathalie’s eyes. She sputtered–unable to grasp Nathalie’s expression shifting to concern–and raced to the car.
The ride back was uncomfortable with the silence weighing them both down. Nellie kept her face to the window, wiping her quiet tears. She bolted before the car was shifted to park, and shuttered herself in her room.
Nathalie did not and could not understand her. She did not have that weirdness, that sensitivity that Nellie did. She did not have her life uprooted and relocated in the middle of a school year. She did not have doubts about her family, and a lack of relationship with that family. And, all of that could go right back to her oddity.
Nellie pulled the album from under her bed and flipped to the image of Rhys at his graduation. Her lip shook.
“It’s your fault,” Nellie said quietly. She sucked in a sob. “Wh-why’d you have to make me weird?”
She slowly went backwards through the album, watching Rhys’s sullen expression in most of the photos. He stood in contrast to the happier expressions worn by his siblings. He was an outsider in his own family too. Nathalie had said he was driven by his oddness to excel, and used that to hightail it from his loving family.
The first letter Rhys wrote to Nathalie read:
Dear Nat,
I understand my departure was brisk, but I had an opportunity that I couldn’t allow to slip by. I’ve been recruited into the Order of Ferblanc; it’s ancient and real and full of strange guys like myself. My fellow recruits are earnest and steadfast, and I look forward to writing you next with our shenanigans.
Send my love to Mum, Dad, and even Winny. Oh, and of course Margaret. I only met her briefly, but she seems good for our dear brother. I hope to be allowed a visit at Christmas, but I’m still unsure of operations.
Fondly your brother,
Rhys
“Nerd,” Nellie muttered, snorting a giggle.
The next few letters did indeed talk about what Rhys and the other new recruits got up to. They toured Rome–seemingy the headquarters of the Order–daily, partaking in the ancient ruins and the modern nightlife, Rhys clearly making the distinction that the parties were tame compared to some they moseyed into. He wrote of prudence, virtue, and how their vows were akin to monks.
She searched the battered shoebox for Rhys’s last letter as a member of the Order of Ferblanc:
Nathalie,
I’ve resigned. I’m certain you find this to be no shock considering how frequently I write.
Nellie tilted her head, confused. She scanned through the previous letters full of global wandering and fondness for the Order and life in Rome. She returned to the letter:
Perhaps this is just what running the course is like. I do know my conscience won’t allow me to remain. I admit, I am at a loss for what to do next. A visit home could be just the thing. I’ll write you of my travel plans.
Rhys
She wondered how at a loss Nathalie was reading this for the first time, cracking a smile. Rhys was of few words, and seemed reliant on his bond with his sister to do most of the heavy lifting. Nellie had inherited his oddness–sensitivity–but she was glad to possess more warmth.
She hastily covered the letter with both hands as her door opened. Only Nathalie’s arm was visible, she not poking her head in to see what Nellie was up to. Ash bolted in, cozying up to Nellie.
Nellie draped her arm over Ash’s thick, dark fur, swallowing the emotion in her throat. She returned to the photo album, to Rhys’s graduation picture, to that small smile he wore. It went beyond pride in completing school; he was leaving everything he ever knew behind in the search, the hope, of finding understanding and use.
------------------------
The most popular boy names in TN in 2012 were Mason and William (Liam). They'll probably never show up again, lol. I think I messed up dates. This might be closer to March for the amount of time I want to have passed, but I based when Nellie started school off when school returned from Christmas break up north on the 1990s/2000s, and it's so much sooner than here in TN. But, either way, it's after Valentine's day. I did look up how to apply to Webb, which I should've done first chapter, because the timeline is all weird now. If I put this through a rewrite at some point, I'll use the application timeline to raise the stakes and stuff.
