C-notes.Twenty C-notes.
Is that rumbling thunder I hear?
ChapterOne
Aila
“Yaaas!”My mother bursts into my bedroom without knocking.“Yippee!I got the invite, Aila!The invite to the island!”
Pulling off my headphones, I give Mom my undivided attention.“Does all this joy have something to do with that dating site you joined?”
My mom goes through boyfriends the same way I go through paper towels.Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but she sure keeps busy.In the last five years alone, she’s dated and dumped a round dozen “life partners.”
Let me see… There was Si Leblanc up in La Pas.He was flavor of the month for a while.But my mom dumped him after he revealed himself to be what she calls a “cheap bastard.”Then there was Hank Maddix, now long gone.Turns out he had another side piece in Minnesota.
Who was the latest?I think it was Mister Mo Rosenthorn.He was sweet but unwilling to commit.All my mom’s boyfriends get six months to put a ring on it before she kicks them to the curb.I suppose that’s one thing I should admire in my adorable, scatterbrained mom—she never allows a man to overstay his welcome.
But did she ever leave broken hearts in her wake?No.There is something about a middle-aged man’s mindset that remains obstinately flameproof.They’re all about the comfort, not the passion, when it comes to relationships.The most an older man will ever feel for his partner is… fondness.
Ugh.Such a lame word.I’m all about the valleys and the peaks when it comes to emotions.
It’s like the endless succession of boyfriends smell the “available” aura without Mom even having to advertise it, bless her heart.
“Dating sites?”Mom scoffs.“No app or site can compare when it comes to Landslide.”Sitting on the edge of my bed, she shows me a handwritten letter.“It’s official, Aila.We’ve been invited to spend the summer at the chalet inn on Landslide.”
Scanning the poorly printed lettering, I stop reading to mention it.
“You’re seriously considering going to a place where they write their invites by hand?”
Rolling her eyes, Mom sighs.“Landslide is unplugged.No internet.Just read it, dammit!”
Dear Ms.Amelia O’Hara, & Daughter,
We are pleased to offer you a double room w/ a private shower this summer.
The double room has two single beds.The shower room inc.a toilet and sink.
Please bring your own towels.
N.B.Everything sold on Landslide must be paid for in CASH (USD / CAD only).No WiFi or satellite reception.
Additional info: Skyquakes are not guaranteed.
Yours sincerely,
L.Blackwood (Manager)
- please find your travel times attached.
One word stands out to me.
“What are skyquakes?”
“Oh, my Gaaahd, Aila, haven’t you heard of skyquakes before?”Grabbing my laptop—on which I have been editing some of myphotography—Mom opens another window.“Skyquakes are scary as hell!Some people call them Seneca guns.Loud booms that thunder in the sky for no reason.No, don’t laugh.It’s darn eerie.The best way I can describe it is the sound of God pulling a giant table across the floor without lifting it.”
After finding the clip she was looking for, my mother clicks on the “play” arrow and raises the volume.
An immense, terrifying, trumpeting scream fills my ears.If I were to hear it in the middle of the night, it would make me think of mad Titans leaning their elbows on a church organ.The thunderous booming goes on, forcing me to cover my ears.
