Page 12 of Roxy's Independence
“Don’t tell him that,” she harrumphs.
“Why?” I question.
“Because… because he doesn’t need to know that,” she rationalizes.
“Good argument. I’ll take that under advisement,” I tease.
“I’ll watch my language around adults. Please don’t argue, I’ll do better,” Canyon begs.
“That’s all I can ask, and we weren’t arguing, we were debating,” Roxy defends.
“What happens now?” Canyon asks, his timbre solemn and if I’m not mistaken, I hear some fear entwined in there.
I rotate my head from him to her and announce, “Now, we go back to the cabin, get some food into your sister to help her restore her reserves. Food will help her get some of the energy back she lost and we keep her as calm and relaxed as possible until we all get a grip on this information and newfound gift of hers.”
As we gather our supplies and put them into the wagon Roxy brought down, Egypt begins to stir. She is still a little out of whack, but is able to stay on her feet long enough to make thetrek back to the cabin. We all keep an eye on her through the trail, she asks a lot of questions because she doesn’t understand why she’s so sleepy.
None of us are ready to tell her what happened until after she’s eaten and gotten a few more hours of shut eye, so we blame her exhaustion on the Virginia heat. Thankfully, she accepts that explanation and as soon as we cross the threshold of our rental, she heads toward the couch and falls face first into the cushions.
“What are we going to tell her?” Roxy whispers.
“The truth,” I convey. “She needs to know what she’ll be facing in the future. We can’t keep her from learning about herself and what to expect when one of these visions hits.”
“There’s no protecting her from Fate,” Canyon surmises.
“No, there’s not,” I confirm. But if there was a way, any way at all, I’d protect them both from her designation.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Roxy
The next morning,we sit Egypt down after breakfast and explain what happened the day before. So far, she’s taking it in stride, but I can tell she’s putting on a strong front for us. Internally, she’s having a hard time accepting her path. Getting her to admit that will be next to impossible. She’s just as protective of us as we are of her and she won’t want to say or do anything that’ll let us down.
“Egypt, honey, it’s okay tonotbe okay with this,” I justify. “I’m still learning to digest the fact that I’m predestined to be Canyon’s earthbound anchor so to speak.”
“And even after all of these years, I’m still learning to deal with the fact that I’m a medical diagnostic machine in human skin,” Weston jokes. “The first time I saw and followed the strands to find an illness, I thought I was going insane and needed to admit myself into a psychiatric institution. Mom’s right, baby girl, you can let us in, you don’t have to hide how you’re feeling from us.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about getting stuck in an alternative universe, Eggy. You get a cool gift, you can warn our family about danger and prevent anything bad from happening to them,” Canyon says, acting impressed.
“Sure,” Egypt says, rolling her eyes. “But at least you’re aware of what’s happening.”
“True, and eventually, with training, you will too,” Canyon parries. His counter argument has merit, and I pray that Egypt absorbs what he’s telling her and integrates it into her way of thinking.
“I hope so,” Egypt whispers, sounding melancholy. “I still don’t understand why I can’t go to school like Canyon. I want to see my friends.”
“You will, eventually,” Weston reasons. “We’ll get you there, kiddo. You just have to work hard in the meantime, accept what has been bestowed upon you, and conquer it. It’s going to take time, but I swear to you, we’ll be at your side the entire time.”
“Promise?” she asks, vulnerability laced in her one-worded question.
“Pinky promise,” I state, bending my finger for her to wrap hers around. When she fuses her finger with mine, a broad, true smile spreads across her face. “We’re a family. We do everything together.”
“Together sounds good,” she acknowledges. “I’m afraid, Mom.”
“Why are you frightened?” Weston asks, squatting in front of her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Tell us, let us help you deal with whatever it is that has you scared.”
“What if I say something bad? I don’t want everyone to hate me,” she admits.
