My cell-phone rings. It startles me enough to make me jerk and fall right off the couch. BAM! "OOMPH!" I grumble as I snatch the phone off the coffee table and answer it, "Yeah?" That came out impolitely...

"Ivy?" It's my mom–Bess. I throw my head back with a little sigh, "Hey mom, good-" I look at the wall clock and see it's 5:58am, "morning... Shouldn't you be asleep? We already talked about you getting plenty of rest."

"I can't sleep past 6, you know that. So, you got any big plans for today?" Big plans? Like going to work? I look around my room, then I say, "Mom, it's Saturday."

"Ivy, you told me you're off for the next few days." Realization hits me.
I pause yet again and turn around to look at the calendar on the other wall. Wow, she's right. I have no plans at all actually.

"C'mon Ives, do I have to remind you that you'll have your 22nd birthday in two days?" She tells me. I lay back down on the couch, "Yeah...I'm just trying to do more than one thing at once, I guess."

"Stop doin' that. Now, how about we go out for some coffee and do a little shopping? I need some new stuff." She snickers after saying 'stuff'. A small smirk appears on my face. I close my eyes, resting my head farther down in the big fluffy pillow, "Mom, you know I have things to do today. I gotta go pay some bills and go to the post office. And you know I still hate clothes shopping. How about some coffee and a little sightseeing?" I so prefer that over going inside crowded clothes stores.

She sighs, "Yeah, I forgot. Ok–sightseeing sounds good."
"So, where do you wanna meet?" She asks.

"The coffee shop at the corner in that strip-mall we go to sometimes; Lounge 'n' Sip. 8 o'clock ok?"

"Yep! Sounds good!"
Alright then.

7:47... I turn my stereo down as it plays Blue Oyster Cult and check my red lip-gloss in the rear view mirror. I've always liked dark lip-gloss...

I put on my aviator shades and lean back in the seat. After staring at the empty parking space next to me for a few minutes, I see my mom park there. It looks like she's rocking out in her little SUV. I try not to laugh. "Hmm," I get out of my '68 Jaguar and readjust my black sweater, nodding a hello to her. Gosh it's cold out today! I sure am glad she suggested we get coffee!

She walks up to me, gives me a hug, then sort of guides me into the shop, "Come on before we freeze." "Yeah," I snicker, following her.

As we step inside, I take my glasses off and look around at the people there. Mom sways her head like telling me to hurry along behind her. She always does this. It's annoying but I know I can't change her.
As we're heading for the counter to order our drinks, my eyes suddenly lock onto a guy at a small table in the far back corner. He's writing in a small book that looks pretty old. That's interesting... He looks strangely familiar to me. His hair is short and nicely groomed, he's built, and he has an extremely handsome face. He has a nice five o'clock shadow and his eyes are a hazy greenish blue. My goodness... he's very, very charming looking. His face, that behavior–all so quiet and mysterious... like the world around him doesn't even exist but his eyes show he's hiding a huge secret. I can't stop staring at him, reading him. There's something about this guy that seems off–but also intriguing. As a matter of fact, he kind of reminds me of the man in my reoccurring dreams! But, that would be absolutely crazy and out there to think

that! He could be someone I saw at the hospital recently. Yeah... probably so.

"Ivy?" I hear mom say. I blink a couple times, but just as I do, the guy's serious-looking eyes flash up from the pages at me. My mouth falls open just a tad. Whoa... what intense eyes! Quickly, I look at her, then slowly back to him. He smirks and returns his attention to the book. Wow... freaky. I release an uneasy breath before turning to the woman barista at the register, "Yeah, a pumpkin spice latté please." The lady gives me a strange look, but I ignore her. She rings us up.

We get our coffee and head out the door, because I strongly recommended it. I'm in a bit of a hurry to get inside my car–not because it's cold out, but because I'm oddly on edge now.

I motion across the top of my car for my mom to get in the passenger side as I unlock my door. She's decided to leave her car here; it would make things easier. It's about the gas.

"Ivy, what's the matter?" She exasperatedly asks. I look up at her, opening my door at the same time, "I don't know, I'm just cold. Don't worry about it." I glance over to peer in through the window at him. He's standing up, tucking the book away in his long fancy gray trench-coat, and boy, he's quick about it. I notice he's giving everyone a smug expression as he does this. It's like he thinks he's 'above' everybody.

I turn back and get inside the car, "Let's go to the coastline." I start the engine and drive us out of the parking lot.

When we approach a red light, I lean my head back on the headrest. Now I'm getting the feeling I'm being stared at. I look out of the corner of my eye at mom, "What?"

She folds her arms after putting her hot coffee in the plastic drink holder hanging from the door, "You wanna talk about earlier? Girl, you gotta stop being scared of everybody. You're 21–not 13."

I sardonically tilt my head at her, "Mom, I'm ok. I just saw someone I'm tryin' to avoid. It's a guy I know from work who's very annoying." Hopefully that's a good excuse. But, wait... I'm not avoiding anybody. Crud... How am I going to back that up if she asks who I'm speaking of?

"Oh." She says, then looks ahead again. "The light is green." Wait, that's it? My eyes have widened shortly in amazement. Oh thank goodness! "Yeeahh..." I check the traffic light and hit the gas.

We arrive at our destination and I've gotta admit, I've never been to this part of the coast. Neither has she–I think. She's 44yrs old; she should know about some nice places to go. There's lots of rocks and a few trees around; typical NY scenery–the quiet side. There's a big white statue behind me of a man standing on a mound looking through a telescope. He's Harold Gales II–the founding father of the town. All of this is something I never get tired of. I'm a city girl who wants peace and quiet every once in a while–and this–this has that. The only bad thing about it at the moment is the weather. It's getting cloudy and possibly colder.

I sink my head lower into my sweater and push my hands farther down in my pockets, then glimpse back at my car thinking I should've brought my coffee with me.

"Wow... Ivy, look out there!" Mom says while walking up to the guardrail. She's pointing out at a small island filled with all kinds of trees. I walk up beside her and study it, "It looks like there's something there." It's about as big as Hart Island (among the thousand islands here in New York).

She momentarily says, "Yeah, it looks almost like the top of a big building or...hmm...that's odd. It looks like a castle, but I'm not sure if it is."

What's that about? I push up against the railing while my eyes narrow in interest, "You think it has anything to do with the government?" I can only see the tops of it. Towers–it looks like it has two towers with dark coned roofs.

"I don't know...but whatever that is, it's shielded from the public for a reason, don't ya think?" She says. I look at her.

That's a good question.