Read Online The Ivory Tower by Kirstin Pulioff - Free Book Online

 
    THE IVORY TOWER
     
    She stopped counting. Silence
magnified the shuffling of leaves and the harsh caw of the crows. Simone opened
her eyes, welcoming the soft strands of sunlight that fell on her through the partially
cleared canopy. Autumn’s bitter winds might wreak havoc on their camp, but in
the forest, the scattered leaves painted the floor into a mosaic of colors.
    “Ready or not, here I
come,” Simone’s voice boomed. She assessed the empty forest around her. Nothing
but the overgrown underbrush, salmonberries, and hemlocks. Just shades of greens,
splashed with the occasional bright red dots. She looked down at her olive
green leggings, worn thin around the knees, and the scratchy burlap tunic, and
smiled. She blended into the forest perfectly. With a quick crack of her
fingers and a tug on her ponytail, she began.
    “You’d better have a
good hiding spot this time,” she called. She hopped on one foot to pull a rock
from the bottom of her shoe as the cold air blew through her flimsy clothes.
    The discarded leaves
from the maple trees crunched under her feet. Winters were severe in their
area, and fast approaching. No sooner than the leaves changed colors and fell,
the snow trespassed, restricting their activities to the center of camp.
    As it was, her scrappy leather
boots needed repair. The rocks and strewn branches prodded and jabbed her feet as
she climbed through the woody debris. Snow would make these adventures
miserable, even more intolerable than the cleaning and mending that winter
revolved around.
    Even as the thundering
clouds in the sky threatened to block the sun, and the biting cold weather
persisted, they refused to give up on these afternoon adventures. Starting this
winter, they would be considered old enough for factory duties, and their
afternoons of skipping school would be filled with work. For now, they pressed
their luck, running around the forest, playing their revised, high-stakes
version of a childhood game.
    “You can’t hide
forever,” she taunted, her smile reaching through her words. She slid gracefully
through the game trails. The passages worn by the forest animals wove neatly between
the brambles, dormant hives, and traps. As the cold water from the river seeped
through her soles, she gasped. A flash of something deep red caught her eye.
    Her fingers deftly unclasped
the steel container tied to her belt. Carefully pulling out a small bag, she
smiled and rolled the coagulated paint in its plastic pouch. She tossed it
between hands, careful not to squeeze and break the package.
    Training her ears to
the forest, she heard the tromping of bushes, the skittering of animals, and
the loud thump of her fall. Simone smiled. Christine had been her friend for
years, and despite her skill in hiding, she lost all delicacy of her actions at
the first sign of danger.
    Slow and deliberate,
her steps announced her location. The air filled with the crunching of leaves,
shuffling of rocks, and cawing of the crows. Over the rocks, and around the
trunks, her mind hummed with triumph, her heart beating a tempo for the song. The
shades of green blurred around her as she narrowed in on her target.
    Belly down on the
ground, Christine looked up from beneath a crumpled cranberry sweater covered
with broken branches, and patches of dirt. A pang of guilt touched Simone as
she let the ball of paint go.
    “Got you!” she
exclaimed. The bag popped, paint coating Christine’s back. The cranberry
sweater now looked like corroded rust, and small dots of yellow speckled the
girl’s tangled auburn hair.
    Simone jumped down, half
expecting to be ambushed. Nothing happened. She tilted her head, questioning
the silence. “Christine?” she asked, poking her from behind.
    Christine slowly
twisted around, her blue eyes wide in terror.
    “What is it? What’s
wrong?” Simone creaked.
    Christine’s jaw
trembled. Pushing herself up, she pointed into the woods.
    Nothing seemed odd. She
took a quick inventory