I rubbed my arms violently to get rid of the goose bumps. Roy smiled at me, turned up the heat, and switched the radio on. I immediately felt better. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.
“So what did happen to your trousers?” Roy asked.
“Oh, nothing. Some guy almost ran me over on his motorcycle, and I fell when I jumped back out of the way.”
Ow! I flinched.
My skin felt burned under my grandmother’s pendant. I put my hand up to my collar, but when I touched the necklace, it was just nice and warm. Slightly warmed by my body, nothing else. Don’t panic, I told myself. A short nap would chase the silly ghost stories away. The necklace had probably just scratched me. I secretly glanced over at Roy. He was driving, quietly humming to himself and not paying any attention to my strange behavior.
At last we made it to Aviemore. Roy’s wife, Alison, seemed a little shy, but friendly. She was so short that she only came up to my chin. Her long light-blonde hair was pulled back into a French braid, and her little nose fit perfectly into her tiny face.
Roy unloaded my suitcase and wrapped his strong arms around his wife’s dainty shoulders. Roy was a big man; next to him, even a sturdy person would look delicate. Roy saw me comparing the two of them and gave me a wink. “Now you see what I mean when I talk about dwarves and giants.”
He laughed, and Alison elbowed him in the side.
“I hope you haven’t been going on and on about Scotland’s ancient stories,” she warned, wiggling out from his embrace. “Samantha, please come inside. And stop listening to that big, stupid man.”
She pulled me into their cottage while Roy stood outside grinning.
The silence woke me up the next morning. Seriously, it was far too quiet to sleep. I rubbed my hand over my face, feeling like some jagged Cubist painting. I got up and pulled the curtains aside and slid the window open. Although it was still very early, the day was nice and bright. Cold, damp air streamed in, and I shivered. I wrapped myself up in the quilt from the bed, and then went back to the window. Never before had I breathed such clean air. I agreed with Roy; it really was magical here. Aviemore was only a little place, directly behind the bigger town of Fort William. I couldn’t hear cars, dogs barking, sirens. I heard nothing. And there was nobody on the street.
I’d been in a dreamy mood since I’d left home. It was the first time in my life that I’d be away for such a long time. I was thousands of miles away from all the people who were important to me, and I’d be here for seven weeks. No wonder my nerves were playing tricks on me. Still, I was looking forward to this adventure.
The night before, Roy and Alison had given me such a warm reception. I’d had hot food and a warm shower, followed by eight hours of sleep in the softest bed in the world. I almost felt back to normal. The rest of the world was waking up; I saw a few blinds slowly being raised in the neighboring houses. I closed my window and crawled back into bed. It felt like the mattress was trying to swallow me, and I sank into it deeply, giving in to the cozy feeling. Cold, fresh, clear air and a comfy, warm bed—this summer program was starting off perfectly.
I didn’t wake up again for a whole hour, until Alison knocked on the door. At the breakfast table, I found coffee, tea, eggs, and sausages. Roy’s seat was empty, but a used plate was in the sink.
Alison had arranged a surprise for me. She worked part-time at the tourist information center, and had used some of her contacts to book a weeklong series of day trips. She said they thought it was important for me to get to know Scotland as a country. I was a little shocked. I would have preferred to settle in a little more before I started sightseeing, but Alison looked so pleased. I did my best to put on a happy face.
“Thanks, Alison, but you really shouldn’t have. I’m sure this is all very expensive.”
“No, I have a good connection at the tour company and I told her you were an exchange student. She gave us a really good deal. Don’t worry about it at all.”
Shortly afterward, Alison dropped me off at the tourist information center in Fort William, which looked exactly like the one in Inverness. That was where our tour group would rendezvous.
“Have fun!” she called out.
“I will,” I called back. “Thanks! See you tonight.”
As I got on a bus with a few other visitors, a small, bald man introduced himself as our guide.
CHAPTER 3
Scotland
The biker cruised through the countryside, guiding his Ducati Monster motorcycle past a landscape he didn’t even bother to register anymore. There was nothing he hadn’t seen already. There was nothing left in this world for him, a world that was only gray and damned.