I didn't mind Charlotte quite so much after that day. I mean, she didn't change her ways one little bit. She remained the same annoying, bothersome, and stubborn nightmare of a girl as ever.
But, I don't know... I started to realize that she didn't tease me with any kind of malicious intent.
All that chasing and bothering seemed to be more than just a game for her. I honestly started to believe it was just her way of making friends.
As strange as that method may be.
Well, that's what I wanted to believe anyways. I had to recognize that there were some flaws in my line of reasoning.
She didn't seem to treat any of her other friends with that level of teasing or... interest.
Just me...
She had made a few female friends at school over time. It was the usual bunch of girls who would rather play with dolls than do anything I would have considered fun.
But, Charlotte never seemed to be interested in hanging out with them after school.
No.
Almost without fail, she would follow me everyday to the alcove, those long sleeve spring dresses flowing in the wind behind her.
Most of the time she would talk my ear off about who knows what really. I found myself zoning out most of the time, her mouth never stopping its endless banter about whatever.
Sometimes she didn't even speak at all, just choosing to softly hum to herself, watching me work.
I honestly didn't mind those days in particular. The music was nice to listen to between the bangs of my hammer against the rusty nails.
Other times she would bring a book and just sit in complete silence on that blanket covered rock of hers.
She actually started carrying that old blanket in her bag everyday to school, already anticipating her need for it later.
After a few weeks, I stopped asking her why she was following me, what she wanted, or who else she should be annoying instead.
So, I suppose she won that battle.
But...
One thing I could never wrap my head around was... why?
Why in the world did that girl latch onto me like a leech on the belly.
I was not anything special. I had no vast ambitions. I wasn't the top of my class, closer to the bottom actually.
All of it made absolutely no sense what so ever.
Even though I had put way too much thought into it, my conclusion at the end of the day was very simple.
Charlotte Bellflower was just a weirdo.
Like I said, simple.
I never thought that whole situation with her could have possibly gotten any stranger.
Well...
Never say never I suppose.
It was a Saturday, more humid than most, if that was even possible. Normally I would have been at the alcove, chipping away at the boat.
However, I suppose any eleven year old would need a break every now and again from an endless onslaught of pokes and teasings derived from an annoying and relentless British girl.
So, on that day instead, I was splashing around under the old rickety bridge at the edge of town.
A place I really really hoped Charlotte knew nothing about.
It was just Andrew and I. Dennis had gotten in trouble for dragging his muddy shoes through his mother's kitchen. I just imagined he was probably crying his eyes out in his room, staring out of the window like a prisoner counting down his days in captivity.
Down by the water, large grey rocks walled off the creek on either side, jagged and sharp. The creek itself was far smaller than the average rivers that made up Ferngolly. But, it was the perfect place to relax and catch crawdads.
The bridge overhead was on the verge of collapse. I swear, every time a vehicle decided to risk life and limb by going over it, another nail would shake loose, falling into the creek bed below.
Honestly, I think the old, permanently damp thing was built when the first automobile was invented, and no one had ever cared enough to do anything else for it since.
Forgotten and dying more every day. Much like Ferngolly itself.
The creek water was as bone chillingly cold as ever.
Exactly what I wanted.
"Got a big one!" Andrew yelled, yanking his hand out from underneath an overhanging large rock.
He turned around, flashing a wiggling and very angry crawdad at me. It was gigantic, closer to a lobster than anything else. It's thin legs and antenna twisting all around in a futile attempt to fight the very air around it.
Andrews large toothy smile said it all...
He knew that he had won our little game to find the biggest one.
"Beat this'n ya girl lover." He shouted, holding the crawdad high into the sky like it was a knight's silver sword.
"You's cheated. Ya hogged all the big rocks this whole dang time." I responded, kicking a splash of water towards him.
He cackled, jumping back and forth as the crawdad flailed around between his fingers.
"Wells maybe if you's didn't spend the past few months hangin with that girl, you'd still be good at this stuff!"
I scoffed quickly, turning my eyes away from him.
"Shush it... It ain't like I choose to be round her. She just follows me everywhere I go. Like a lost puppy or somethin."
Andrew knelt down, resting the crawdad in the water before letting it go and watching it shoot like a missile under a nearby rock.
"Nope, you's different. No matter where you goin, you's head looks all around every corner for that weird talkin girl."
"Cause she ain't leave me be, Andrew. Nothin else to it."
He pressed his lips together, dismissing my words with a wave of his hand.
"Sure thang, Tuck. I see you's cheeks light on fire when that girl smiles. You's turnin into one of them city boys, all cus of some long lashes."
I just pretended to look for more crawdads, but in actuality... I was just picturing that smile he mentioned.
"Tuck ain't turnin into nothin but Tuck. Ain't give two rips bout no girl." I growled out, my voice slightly broken.
Andrew stood up and began to climb the nearby steep hill towards the road, grabbing branches, roots, and rocks to make his way up.
"Whatever ya say, Tuck. Before long you's gonna be huggin and kissin on em."
Finally reaching the top, he stretched his bruised up arms from our roughhousing high into the sky, groaning quietly.
"Gotta go. Mom's spectin' me any minute now."
He turned away, lifting his hand over his shoulder in a wave me goodbye.
"See ya, ladies man." With those words, he disappeared past the hill, leaving a thoroughly annoyed boy dow in the creek.
I walked lazily through the ankle deep water, denying every last word he had just said to me.
"He ain't sayin nothin but junk..." I whispered to myself, watching the water part around my feet as it flowed along the stream.
After a few minutes of pondering things, I crawled out of the creek and onto the dirt road above.
The world became a blur of mish-mashed colors as I slowly meandered down the old road, kicking pebbles and thinking harder than I ever thought I would about a girl.
That night, I laid in bed, my mind still unable to rid itself of her annoying voice.
Sleep alluded me.
My bedroom window remained open, the nighttime breeze blowing my cheap curtains into a dance over my head. Dust flakes floating lazily in the starlight. The occasional rustle in the bushes outside seemed to annoy our neighbors dog, causing him to let out sleepy barks here and there.
With every slight movement, the bed springs would screech in protest, clearly annoyed by my endless tossing and turning.
Stupid girl... I should be thinkin bout my boat... fishin spots... anythin other than... her.
I resorted to counting the jutting nails on the ceiling.
One
Two
Three
Four.
Five..
Six...
With each one I counted, weariness drew closer and closer. Until, finally, a merciful sleep overtook me.
The only thing I wanted was to get a good night sleep. To wake up hours later to the soothing sound of the morning birds. I felt like I had been running a mental marathon for weeks. Ever since she arrived and disrupted my simple life.
I just wanted sleep.
I didnt get anything like that.
When I awoke, it was still the middle of the night, the moon high in the sky, shining blue dust bunnies into my quiet room.
I was freezing cold, my bear arms feeling like ice cycles attached to my torso.
I rubbed my eyes, the short amount of sleep that I had gotten clinging tight to my vision, blurring the world around me.
My mouth was as dry as the desert. The kind of middle of the night thirst where your saliva is as thick as oil on your tongue.
I leaned up and onto my behind, looking at the dark world through blurry lashes.
The moment I stretched my hands over my head...
I noticed it...
Or I should say, I noticed her.
Lying beside me on my stained up twin mattress, facing me, yet fast asleep... was the exact same person who kept me up for hours.
I rubbed my eyes over and over again, hoping beyond hope that she would vanish like a ghost caught in my peripheral vision.
All of my desperate attempts to wake up, or realize I was going insane had failed me.
She remained there... fast asleep and taking up more than half of my bed.
The normal response would be to freak out, shake the daylights out of her and demand an explanation for the break in as well as whatever it was she was doing in my bed.
However...
Something about her was drastically different than usual.
Dry and cracked redness around her closed eyes. Streaks of irritated skin ran down her cheeks, leading to a pool of half dried up tears on the pillow. Her body was curled up into a ball, tiny and fragile and with very couple of breaths she would shiver.
What is an eleven year old expected to do in such a situation...
I had a girl I barely knew breaking down, and breaking in.
I slid out of bed, made my way to the kitchen, and drank a full glass of water like I would die without it.
I held the empty glass in my hand, leaning against the dining room table, staring at the nothing in front of me.
"Should I just... wake her up and ask her to leave?" I whispered to the empty cup, hoping it would respond with some kind of wisdom for me.
Who knows how long I stood in that dark and dusty room, contemplating any way I could just escape the situation entirely.
I felt like I was in a horror movie when I finally mustered the courage to walk back to my bedroom. Each step on the old wood creaked and moaned throughout the tiny hallway.
When I rounded the corner to my doorway, I said a silent prayer that she would just be gone.
No such luck.
With a heavy sigh, I opened my closet and took out my old sleeping bag.
It was a stained up old red thing that I don't think I had touched it in years, but I sure was glad that I remembered that I had it.
I sprawled it out on the small opened space between the bed and door, fluffing up my winter coat as a makeshift pillow.
Laying down on the cold floor, I looked up at the edge of the bed.
Whatever reason she has for bein here... I suppose I can let her at least sleep through the night.
Even the rusty nails couldn't help me sleep anymore. It was a test in patience until I finally passed out from utter exhaustion.