Chapter 2

Back home, water ran.

Every last tendril of sunrise dissipated into morning as Lucy stepped out of her cool down shower. Still, early morning sounds drifted through her parents' house: children waking, dogs guffawing, adults blowing stuffy noses, milk pouring.

She dressed quickly, adjusted her new hair, grabbed a PowerBar, headed out the door to eat alone.

iPod playing a Birdy station on Pandora, Lucy delicately pushed her hair back to secure her earphones and began to eat silently, surrounded by sound.

This sound she loved: soft-voiced, post-run, after-shower, eating-alone, morning-hope, fountain-gazing sounds. Her favorite fountain in this part of Earth. Surrounded by rose bushes and sparkly morning rays of sunshine, this fountain, just for her, rose triumphant from an inner edge of her family's back driveway.

Gazing into its orbs, she felt herself float, sparkling in misty, almost tangible, multicolored, soft as eye lashed in sunlight, delicate, refreshing, calming, floating, falling, flying, soaring, replenishing, purposeful water droplets: the easy kind. Each drop fulfilled its purpose and shone simultaneously. She prayed and prayed and then stopped praying. It was like this every day. To have purpose. To fulfill it. She watched it fall. Tears spilled from her eyes, and two fountains babbled in her morning gaze.

Someone watched her.

Across the drive, in a back corner of the fence, where years of gardening shears knocked tiny peepholes into shady corners of two by four fence rails, a dark pair of brown eyes glazed over, peering intently through at their fantasy prize.

Lucy, unaware, turned her face up, letting morning sun rays slowly dry her tears. From his peephole place, her watcher turned his face up, too, imagining sun kissed rays settling upon her much closer, wanting, craving, wishing, watching. Stalking.

Something crept up behind her, delicately, slowly, aiming to surprise. He could hardly restrain himself, knowing what was coming.

Lucy folded her hands to pray, again, wishing for a fulfillment of her purpose and her place, like her water fountain blues. She stared into the sun until her tired eyes closed, chin still defiantly tilted into midair. Defiant, and vulnerable, with her back to the house, to the drive.

Closer and closer it crept, eyes widening for the watcher in suspense. Suddenly it was upon her, poised to strike, stopping short of touching, but breathing ignominiously into her back.

It breathed.

HONK!!!!

Lucy's breathed clutched her insides as if never to leave again. She lunged to her feet, jumping low, protecting her head, shocked, hairs on the back of her neck raised up as high as the fountain in surprise. Flipping around to see the offending burst of noise, she was met by a barrage of laughter.

Familiar faces leaned out of her family's Excursion, pointing, chortling, guffawing, pleased with themselves at their successful surprise.

"Sheesh!" Lucy cried as laughter continued. "Don't you guys ever get tired of doing that? I mean, seriously. Ugh."

As she climbed into an open Excursion door, her watcher took a mental picture and then vanished into the world on the other side of his hole.