Sea Haven 01 - Water Bound

expanse of water always helped her to stay centered enough to deal with going into a public place. It was early enough that few people would be out, but Inez’s store was a local hangout. People tended to gather there and exchange news—and Inez knew just about everything there was to know about everyone.
    Rikki parked the truck at the far end of the lot and got out slowly, taking a careful look around. Thankfully, the reporters and investigators—
    whatever they were—hadn’t gotten up as early as she had. She had the village nearly to herself. The morning air was crisp and a wind blew in from the sea, carrying the feel of salty mist. She could hear the water breaking against the cliffs as she walked across the lot to the sidewalk where she took another long look around. Her blood moved with the same rush in her veins as the waves, and she stood at the top of the hill, just in front of the store, looking down the street to the powerful display the ocean was putting on.
    Sea Haven’s main street ran right along the actual coast, separated from the water only by the bluffs. She could be in the town because from just about anywhere she shopped, she could see and hear the ocean. Right now whitecaps danced over the surface and spray blasted up the rocks. The sight was breathtaking.
    There was no one out but old Bill. His blanket wrapped around him, he huddled in the small area between the grocery store and the kaleidoscope shop Rikki’s sister Judith owned. She lifted a hand toward him. Like her, he was different. He muttered to himself and made a living from the cans people left for him, and he often rode around on his prized possession, the old bike that was propped against the wall of the store—it was his only method of transportation other than his feet. His clothes were old and dirty, and the soles of his boots worn. She made a mental note to remind Blythe that they were going to find him a comfortable pair of boots for the winter.
    112

    As she pushed open the door, there was an all-too-familiar tightening in her stomach. At once the walls closed in and she felt like she was choking.
    Ordinarily she could grab jars of peanut butter and get out, but the list required actual walking up and down the aisles. When she stepped inside, the fluorescent lights seemed to flicker like a strobe. Flashes went off behind her eyes. Her stomach lurched, and even with the dark glasses, she threw her arm across her eyes to protect them and backed out of the store, shaken.
    Rikki bit her lip hard and looked toward the sea, trying to breathe in the salt air. It had definitely been too long. She actually felt a little dizzy and it was hard to catch her breath. The store wasn’t crowded or noisy, two things she avoided at all costs, so she just had to get past the lights and force herself to go up and down the aisles. Everyone did it. The peanut butter was stocked on the outer shelf and she could just grab it and go, but . . .
    She squared her shoulders. People did this every single day. She was a grown woman, the captain of her own boat—there was nothing she couldn’t do. She pushed open the door a second time and walked in. Inez Nelson, a fragile-looking woman with graying hair and a slender body stood at the counter, looking up with a friendly smile.
    “Rikki. You’re always up early,” she greeted. “How are you? How are your sisters?”
    Rikki nodded to her, ignoring the questions. She moistened her lips, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. She could do this, walk into the space between the aisles. Her feet didn’t move. She just stood there, frozen, with the lights fluttering, pushing sharp little darts into her brain. Her stomach lurched, and she turned and went back outside where she could breathe.
    “Damn it.” She was used to being different, but when it interfered with her ability to do everyday chores, it made her angry. She was used to the lights in stores actually hurting her, where she could tell others didn’t have the same problems. Noises were the worst, and textures, especially in her mouth, were brutal on her. The taste of silver or plastic just couldn’t be tolerated. Certain fabrics hurt her skin. She knew others weren’t like her, but for the most part, she’d learned to cope. But this shopping thing was a nightmare. The hum of the lights reverberated through her head until she wanted to scream.
    What was she going to do? Ask Blythe? One of the others? They’d want to