Page 16 of Kissing the Beach Town Fire Chief
Still, I can't help but chuckle at her lighthearted response, grateful for her ability to find humor in even the most unexpected situations. I have other worries.
As we stand there in the darkness, the realization sinks in that we're going to need some light if we want to continue our search. Ami pulls out her phone, illuminating the small space around us with the soft glow of its screen. I follow suit, pulling out my own phone and casting its beam of light around the bookstore. The shelves loom like shadowy sentinels in the darkness, their contents obscured by the lack of light.
"We need to find some candles or something," Ami says, her voice echoing slightly in the dimly lit space. I nod in agreement, scanning the room for any sign of emergency supplies. After a moment of searching, I spot a box of candles tucked away on a nearby shelf. "Found them," I say, moving towards the box and pulling out a few candles and a book of matches.
The soft glow of the candles makes Ami's face look like something out of a painting, all warm and radiant. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes... man, her eyes look like they've got their own little fire dancing inside. I guess I’ve never really noticed her eyes this way. They’re brown, no they’re amber with these intense gold streaks. She's totally focused on whatever she's doing, but I can't help but get lost in the way the light plays off her eyes and the rest of her features.
Her hair's still damp and all tousled from the storm, framing her face in this perfect kind of way. And that smile... it's like everything else fades away, and all I can see is her.
We're huddled together, surrounded by these flickering flames, and for a moment, it feels like time just stops.
Suddenly, something moves in the corner of our eye, and Ami lets out a startled gasp, instinctively clinging onto me. We quickly flash the candlelight around the room, trying to catch sight of whatever it is that's moving in the darkness.
Heart pounding, we cautiously follow the flickering shadows as they dart from shelf to shelf, our footsteps echoing in the silent bookstore. Every creak of the floorboards seems to magnify the tension in the air, and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. "What do you think it is?" Ami whispers, her voice barely above a breath. I shake my head, my grip tightening on the candle. "I’m not sure. Could be anything, hopefully not a mouse or, worse yet, a rat."
But as we inch closer, the mysterious figure comes into view, revealing itself to be nothing more than Maggie's tabby cat, Dusty. She meows indignantly as the light washes over her, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames in an eerie green glow. Ami lets out a relieved laugh, her grip on me loosening as she steps forward to pet the cat. "Well, I guess that solves the mystery of the moving shadow. I should have figured that out immediately, given my prior introduction to her." I chuckle, feeling a wave of relief wash over me, figuring that Dusty is just exploring.
We follow Dusty through the dimly lit aisles; she leads us to a secluded corner of the bookstore, where a heavy wooden ladder rests next to the bookshelf. Ami and I exchange curious glances, wondering what this ladder is doing here. There are tons of old boxes at the top of the shelves where the ladder ends.
"Where did this come from?" Ami questions, and I can see she has never seen it here before. Dusty climbs over the top shelf and pushes one of the boxes down. Luckily, I catch it.
Ami's voice breaks the silence, barely more than a whisper. "Wow," she breathes, her eyes wide with wonder. "This must be where Aunt Maggie keeps the archives. Kinda weird that the catlead us here, ya think?" I nod in agreement, my gaze sweeping over the shelves in search of any clue that might unlock the town's secrets. It's hard to believe that the answers we're looking for could be hidden amongst all this clutter, I mull over, feeling a sense of determination rising within me.
The flickering candlelight casts eerie shadows across the room, adding to the sense of mystery that hangs in the air. Feels like we're in a spooky movie,
Just when it seems like we're hitting a dead end I start down the ladder and my eyes land on a tattered old journal tucked away in the back of a shelf. My heart skips as I reach for it, my fingers trembling slightly. Could this be it?
Ami's eyes follow my actions as I carry it down to the table and carefully open the journal, revealing its yellowed pages filled with faded ink. Together, we pore over its contents, piecing together the fragments of the past like detectives on a mission. This is it; we're finally getting somewhere.
We also stumble upon a bundle of letters neatly tucked away in a worn-out envelope. Intrigued, we carefully unfold the yellowed pages, revealing handwritten notes and faded snapshots that offer us a peek into the lives of Seabrook's first residents.
"These have got to be letters between the original Seabrookers," Ami chirps, her voice tinged with excitement. "Feels like we're time travelers or something." I nod along, my eyes glued to the fancy handwriting sprawled across the pages. Each letter spins a yarn, painting a vivid picture of a community knitted together by shared dreams and ambitions.
But it's the pics that really grab our attention. Crumbly snapshots of a bygone era give us a little taste of the past, showing off moments of pure bliss and maybe a little drama, too. "Check this out!" Ami exclaims, holding up a faded photograph of a group of people gathered around a bonfire on the beach."Looks like they knew how to party back in the day!" I grin, leaning in to get a better look at the photo. "Yeah, looks like they were living their best lives."
But it's not just the pictures that catch our attention. Tucked away among the letters and photographs are handwritten notes detailing the hopes and dreams of Seabrook's founding members. It's like stepping back in time, getting a glimpse into the hearts and minds of those who came before us.
"Listen to this," I say, reading aloud to Ami from one of the letters. "It says ‘We came to Seabrook in search of freedom and creativity, a place where we could let our imaginations run wild.' Sounds like they had the right idea." Ami nods, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, it's like they built their own little paradise right here in Seabrook."
It's incredible," Ami murmurs, her eyes scanning the faded notes and photographs spread out before us. "They were pioneers, in a way. Creating a space where creativity could thrive." I nod, my mind buzzing with excitement. "Yeah, it's like they were visionaries, carving out their own little haven in the world."
As we dig deeper into the archives, we stumble upon more than just the dreams of Seabrook's founding crew. We uncover the raw struggles they faced and the hurdles they leaped to make their vision a reality. "These people were hardcore," I remark, my voice full of respect. "They weren't about to let anyone mess with their destiny. They built Seabrook from scratch, hustling every step of the way."
Ami's eyes light up with understanding as she nods along. "Totally. They were like rebels with a cause. And look at what they cooked up—a town that's got history oozing out of its pores but still knows how to shake things up."
As we soak in this epiphany, a sense of wonder washes over us. We're not just unearthing Seabrook's past; we're tappinginto its soul. With each new revelation, our bond with this place deepens. We gather up the remaining letters, photos, and notes, feeling the weight of responsibility settling on our shoulders. We're not just digging up history; we're preserving it for the next wave.
"Let's take these back to my place," Ami suggests, her voice tinged with excitement. "We can go through them more thoroughly there." I nod in agreement, eager to delve deeper into the mysteries that lie within the pages of these old documents. "Yeah, sounds like a plan. We can spread everything out and really take our time with it."
As soon as the weather settles a little, we wrap the documents up tightly so no rain can make its way in. With a short break in the drizzle we trot full-bore to Ami’s house to get started. Fate intervenes, however, and my phone buzzes that number calling me in ASAICGT –as soon as I can get there.
So, I say my good-bye to Ami and run next door to get my uniform and car keys. Our history adventure will need to wait until tomorrow.
Chapter eight
Ami
The next morning, I wake up to the distinct sensation of something warm and heavy on my chest. Blinking groggily, I focus on the furry face of Dusty, her green eyes staring intently at me. She is settled herself comfortably, purring contentedly, as if she owns the place. “Good morning to you too,” I mutter, gently lifting her off and sitting up. She stretches languidly, then hops off the bed with the grace only a cat can possess.
