Page 11 of Roxy's Independence
Leaning forward, I dig my elbows into my thighs and lean forward on my arms. “What’s going on, Foxy?” I ask, hoping my tone doesn’t tell how freaked out I am by her hesitant demeanor.
“Something strange and supernatural happened while you were out there,” she tells us, gesturing to the lake by flipping her free hand toward the lake.
I sigh before repeating her words, “Supernatural and strange, huh?” These days, these sorts of conversation starters don’t shock me. It seems to be a rolling theme for our life.
“Is that why Eggy is like that?” Canyon probes, his eyes maintaining contact with his sister. “She sorta looks pale, paler than usual.”
“Yeah, that’s why,” Roxy confirms.
“Wanna tell us about it, baby?” I inquire, wanting her to delve into the story so we can figure out what’s going on with our girl.
“I don’t want you to be upset, but I was by myself and didn’t understand what was happening and needed to talk to someone so I called Wrecker.” Again, not shocking. Wrecker seems to be her pseudo brother, the man she goes to whenever I’m not around and she has questions regarding the ethereal world.
“Roxy, baby, stop stalling. You know I’m not gonna hold a grudge about that. Just tell me what’s going on with our daughter.” Then I think over how gruff and unsettled my voice is and tack on, “Please.”
“Mom. Whatever it is, we’ll deal… together, like we do everything else. But we need to know what happened or we can’t fix this,” Canyon soothingly says. I’m impressed by the wayCanyon is handling his mother. Like me, his patience is thin and usually snaps whenever he’s anxious or distressed.
“We can’t fix this,” she mutters. “According to Wrecker, she’s a prophet, but he also used a different word. Soothsayer, I think he called it.”
“Fuck me,” I groan. I don’t grumble because Egypt’s gift is a burden, but because her specialty will have to be closely monitored and she’ll have a rough go of it until she learns how to contain her visions. “She had her first prophecy, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, she did and it drained her energy, Weston,” Roxy sighs. “How is she supposed to live like this? Wrecker, Butcher, Dragon, and Cuda say she can’t go to school or have any sort of social activities until she can compose herself during a vision. She went into a trance, was completely vulnerable during it and if I’m being honest with you, it scared the shit out of me.”
“We won’t let anything happen to her, Mom, I swear,” Canyon vows.
“I know we won’t, but we can’t always be there when one of her manifestations hits her. It came out of nowhere and took control of her mind as well as her body,” Roxy explains.
“Let’s take it one problem at a time, okay,” I consolingly suggest. “First off, tell me, in as many details as you can, what she prophesied.”
“You’re right.” She nods her head. “Canyon, can you grab my book for me? It’s on top of my bag.” I start getting annoyed with that request because now’s not the time for her to crack open the pages.
“Roxy,” I berate, working hard to reign in my temper. What she has to say is a priority, reading however, is not. “You can read later, baby.”
“Do I look ditzy to you, Weston?” she whips out the question with exasperation. “I wrote it down on the back page once she started speaking. I didn’t want to depend on my memory for this because I was baffled. Stop assuming shit, it makes an ass out of you.”
“Sorry,” I quickly apologize. “I just want to know what we’re working with here, that's all.”
“Don’t make excuses, the apology was enough,” she chastises me.
I smirk then say, “Yes, ma’am.”
Canyon makes it back to us with her romance novel in hand and she tilts her head in my direction and he tosses it to me. I open up to the back page and read over what she jotted down. I can decipher some of the meaning, but until I get a chance to talk it over with the rest of my brothers, I don’t want to make assumptions.
“Is it bad?” Canyon asks, and as I lift my head from the pages, I notice he’s shifting from one foot to the other.
“It’s a warning,” I reply, being as honest with him as I’m willing to be. “Not for us, but for the club.”
“About those Nazi assholes?” he continues with his questioning.
“Fundamentalists, and watch your language,” Roxy scolds.
“Sorry, Mom,” Canyon says, hanging his head. He hates disappointing his mother on any level.
“It was a slip of the tongue,” I reason, not liking him looking so forlorn. “But your mom is right, son. There’s a time and a place to let your words fly, in front of your mom isn’t one of those.”
“Weston,” Roxy hisses. “He shouldn’t curse, period. He’s too young.”
“He isn’t. We were swearing at his age,” I remind her. “Worse words than asshole too.”
