Twilight 1 - Twilight | Page 2

mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my
distaste for Forks.
When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen — just
unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.
Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police
Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car,
despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with
red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.
Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.
"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me.
"You haven't changed much. How's Renée?"
"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his
face.
I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington.
My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was
still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.
"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.
"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for you" as opposed to
just "good car."
"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."
"Where did you find it?"
"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation
on the coast.

"No."
"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie prompted.
That would explain why I didn't remember him. I do a good job of blocking painful,
unnecessary things from my memory.
"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie cont inued when I didn't respond, "so he can't drive
anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."
"What year is it?" I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he
was hoping I wouldn't ask.
"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine — it's only a few years old, really."
I hoped he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. "When did
he buy it ?"
"He bought it in 1984, I think."
"Did he buy it new?"
"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixt ies — or late fift ies at the earliest," he
admitted sheepishly.
"Ch — Dad, I don't really know anyt hing about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if
anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic…"
"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."
The thing, I thought to myself… it had possibilities — as a nickname, at the very least.
"How cheap is cheap?" After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on.
"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked
sideways at me with a hopeful expression.
Wow. Free.
"You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car."
"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking ahead at the road when he
said this. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited
that from him. So I was looking straight ahead as I responded.
"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being
happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never
looked a free truck in the mouth — or engine.
"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.
We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty
much it for conversation. We stared out the windows in silence.

It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their
trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered
with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves.
It was too green — an alien planet.
Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that
he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind
of days their marriage had — the early ones. There, parked on the street in front of the
house that never changed, was my new — well, new to me — truck. It was a faded red
color, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it.