My muse, Sebastian, just smacked me with inspiration. Here's the result. Paul won't show up until later so bear with me. Some friends also enlightened me to the fact that in Breaking Dawn, Paul imprinted on someone. I have never, nor will I ever, read Breaking Dawn. I won't see the movie either, but that's beside the point. Some characters will be portrayed differently or some events not taken into account so that's my reason. Also, feedback is important to any writer so please REVIEW after reading. Alright, on with the show!

Disclaimer: If you can recognize it, I hold no claim to it.

Heart of the Myth

Preface

He's gone. Singapore, they say. I don't care where; we don't care where, as long as he's gone. Mom cried when the police told us. Pappy seemed to grow younger before my eyes. The police warned us that they haven't caught him yet, but it was unlikely that he'll bother us again.

Staring into my coffee mug, it felt like a weight have been lifted, some depressing air lifted from the house. Five months of the continuous harassment and it's finally…over. I glanced across the kitchen table. Pappy was reading the Sunday papers. Already he holds himself different; straighter, stronger, sure. Mom was puttering with the teakettle. She glowed with relief. It's been a while since I saw her that light on her feet. I leaned back to look at the picture they made.

They say opposites attract and that couldn't be truer in my parents' case. Dr. Bridgette Lewis-Moore, PhD in mythological studies and Dr. Joseph Moore, PhD in pure mathematics; one who's reality can be calculated on a whiteboard and the other who's reality stems from stories. Yup, they're my parents.

Mom's a New York Times bestselling author. That's how it all started. She use to teach at UC Berkeley with Pappy until she published her first novel and it became a huge phenomenon. Things were good in the beginning. It was only recently that…well, the world got screwy. It got so bad, Mom had to go to therapy. The therapist was a good friend though and helped Mom—helped us—return our lives back to normal.

Dr. Jonathan Kelsey even offered us the use of his summer home. It was good timing too as Pappy's sabbatical was coming up.

"Jonathan's really letting us use his summer home?" Is it still considered a summer home if we go in January and stay past summer?

"Of course, dear," Mom told me, pouring me another cup of tea. "Jonathan said we need to get away for a while; start fresh. He offered us the house his Great-Aunt Gertrude left him."

I gave my father an incredulous look.

Pappy shook his graying hair. "It's not exactly a summer home."

"Hush, Joe. Oh, darling, it sounds so wonderful! It's so close to the ocean and everything is so fresh!" Mom gushed, her eyes glazing over as she delved into the picture Jonathan painted with words

"We going to Miami?" That's what comes to mind, at least; oceans, fresh, Miami's perfect.

"Not…exactly."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm all for the nature and wilderness thing but not when it encourages mold to grow on your person," I grumbled, wringing the water from my hair. "There's a high chance that we can get ergot poisoning with all this rain."

We finally arrived at Jonathan's house. It was nice, at least from what I can tell in the pouring rain. Mom was flitting around like a boxer on speed, turning on lights and the heater. Washington is cold, did I mention that? Why people settle away from the equator is beyond me.

"Come now, Ava," Mom admonished. "Washington is a beautiful state in the sun—"

"What sun?" Pappy questioned as he dropped the last of our luggage and slams the door shut. He was as grumpy as I am and it was starting to show. "If I wanted to be cold and soggy, I would hop on BART and head over to San Francisco."

"True that, Pappy. At least there's the sourdough to look forward too. We're in the coffee state and we don't drink coffee."

Mom turned to face both of us with her hands on her hips. This is not good. Pappy and I glanced at each other, preparing to face the dragon.

"Joseph Marvin Moore," Mom's tone was hard and her eyes glinted. Pappy's getting it first. I wonder if I can escape. "We haven't had a family vacation during our sabbaticals ever since you got tenure. Now that we can, you are not going to ruin this for us. And you!" Mom turned her head toward me. "Avalon Iseult Moore, you are going to enjoy the six months we have here before we all go back and you flit off to Stanford and leave us in our old age." Her shoulders sagged and it seemed to put years on her face. "We need this."

"Yes, Mom."

"Of course, dear."

Mom climbed the stairs to explore the second floor.

"Start calling University of Washington, see if they need a lecture on pure mathematics and it's uselessness," I commented. "Or we'll both be stuck doing Forks-y things."

"Already did, honey," Pappy grinned at me. "Called U-Dub and Peninsula College over at Port Angeles first thing when your mom mentioned Forks. I better leave a note to myself to give Jonathan a piece of my mind. Who the hell offers someone a vacation in a state with perpetual rain?"

"Pappy, we're Californios. We call Berkeley, Berzerkeley. We do not call UW, U-Dub. God forbid someone might mistake us for Washingtonians."

"Highly doubt it, Ava," Pappy said, pointing out his short sleeve button up and khaki slacks and my peasant skirt with linen tunic and espadrilles combo. "And besides, she'll probably end up starting another book or researching the Native American legends. There's a reservation around here, you know."

"She does know that the Indians weren't happy when Silko1 wrote about the stories, right? What makes her think, the Indians in Washington are going to hand over their legends to an outsider?"

"Your mother has a PhD in fantasy."

Point taken.

1. Silko—Leslie Marmon Silko, author of Ceremony that contains traditional Navajo stories.

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