CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I really wished he would stop sneaking up on me like that. It was like he was beginning to do it on purpose. I kept my eye on Dad as he pulled some vegetables, broccoli and carrots, out of the fridge. He placed them on the cutting board and added to my freaked out level by grabbing hold of the big knife from the side drawer, replacing the one I threw in the trash. Each slice he’d make reminded me that it could be my limbs he was chopping up.
I looked at Lathon for assurance that there was still indeed a plan taking place. He made Peaches’ shoulders rise in a shrug. I guess his plan didn’t involve Dad waking up either. That was just fan-freaking-tastic.
“Rough day, kiddo?” Dad said.
I gulped, “Y-y-yeah you could say that.”
Dad began tapping at the cutting board even harder, “Anything on your mind?”
“So many things. All of the things.”
“What?”
I said, “Nothing,” and escaped out of the kitchen to check on Mom who was still sleeping peacefully on the couch. She was a little less graceful without Dad holding her up. She looked like a lazy dog. Her arms were sprawled out along with her legs. In fact, now more than ever I imagined she very possibly could have been a dog in some other life. I wondered what had become of my reality if that was an acceptable possibility to me.
Peaches walked up to me and reached up her paw to make me hunch over. Lathon’s voice spoke quietly, “Here, I have got the stone in my paw,” and placed it in my hand.
“How did you hold that?” I said. “You haven’t got any thumbs.”
Peaches growled.
“Ok. Ok. What do we do with it?”
Peaches looked over her shoulder to determine whether or not we were once again being eaves dropped on. Lathon’s voice spoke, “Each memory stone is programmed for one person and one person only, which is why it did funny things to Maggie. This particular one was sent down for Reese. If we can somehow get it on his person without him noticing, it will pluck away any memories we tell it to. In this case, we want it to take away the ones that involve his life on Draio.”
“Why only the ones on Draio?”
“Do you want to hear the plan or not?”
The sound of Mom snoring like a bear distracted me. I didn’t know she had it in her. I hit the top of my head to remind myself to focus and turned back to Peaches whose silvery eyes were boring into me.
“I am sorry. I am listening,” I said.
“You are going to put that stone in his jacket pocket, and I am going to whimper until he cannot resist the notion that it is time for Peaches to be taken out for an evening stroll. Once you have completed your portion of the deal, Reese and I will go out and when we should return, we will have a new Reese. Hopefully, it will be the Reese that you are looking for.”
I recounted the few times I had flashbacks that involved the stone, “The few times I have picked it up, it showed me an image, but it was like it was showing me the future. You were there talking to me in real time. Dad was there at one point, too.”
“That is not possible. It showed you something that would terrify you as a defense mechanism.”
I said, “I thought we were communicating with each other in my vision. You told me you were coordinating something with LeCarre.”
Lathon huffed, “Meer flashes or hallucinations. Let us get on with the plan and save your Dad.”
I did not care for the way Lathon brushed off our chat about the stone, but I imagined he had more pressing matters on his mind. My thoughts shifted to the plan. It all sounded amazing, but at the same time it sounded all too easy for me to believe. With all that I have been through these last few weeks, this was how it was all going to end?
Lathon said, “Are you ready?”
I figured I was as prepared as I was possibly going to get. I responded, “Ready.”
Lathon turned Peaches around and ran into the kitchen and started crying and barking. I looked around the living room for Dad’s jacket, which was not on the couch where I could readily see it or the piano. He hadn’t worn it to Main Street, so I worried it may also have been upstairs.
Another loud snore from my mother drew my attention back to the couch. Under her unconscious body was the black leather fabric that made up my father’s jacket. “Well, that wouldn’t be alarming would it?” I thought to myself. I am sure Mom would have very few questions for me when I inserted the glowing stone into one of Dad’s jacket pockets.
Lathon was still barking his head off. I heard Dad returning the conversation, “Not now, girl. I am busy.”
I tried to envision a scenario where I was able to pull the jacket out from under Mom without her waking up, and it just wouldn’t come to me. Instantly, I panicked and went for highly dangerous and rightfully unspoken plan B. I was going to plant it on his body myself.
I entered the kitchen where Dad was sautéing the vegetables in a big pan. The glorious smell welcomely swarmed my nose. Peaches looked at me worried like I was about to blow the plan, but I nodded to let her know it was going to be ok.
“Dad,” I said, “will you do me a favor? I will watch the food.”
He laughed, “Are you a cook now, too? I must have missed a lot. What is the favor?”
“Well, you see Mom gets bad vibes whenever she sees this stone,” I said as I pulled it out of my pocket. “I think it would be appropriate if you were the one to dispose of it.”
“Just throw it in the trash.”
I sighed, “This is more than just trash. It was something your boss left behind. I think you should bury it.”
I do not know why I thought this was going to work, but my only options were to either shake Mom awake or jam it down Dad’s throat. I didn’t like those odds.
He turned back to me with an intention to humor me, “If this is what you want, I will be more than happy to do it. Make sure the vegetables do not burn. I will go ahead and take Peaches on a walk as well.”
Dad took the stone out of my hand and jammed it into his pocket. He grabbed Peaches’ leash off of the kitchen table and went out the sliding back door for a night’s stroll. I guess he wouldn’t have worn his jacket after all.
I turned the knobs on the kitchen stove to low so I wouldn’t have to call the fire department if anything went wrong. I had never really cooked before. It was nice that watching the pan was going to be the toughest thing I’d be doing on my first time around.
“Alan?” I heard Mom call from the living room.
I made one last check on the state of the vegetables and then walked around to join her. She reached her arms up to stretch.
Her back arched back like a sleepy cat, she said, “I don’t know how I got so tired.” She breathed in the scent of the room, “What is that delicious smell? Is my Alan cooking?”
Embarrassed, I said, “Dad started it. I am just watching while he walks the dog. I’m not sure what we are doing for meat.”
She grinned mischievously, “Meat sounds delicious. I could eat a cow if it was presented to me right now. Got one out back?”
I laughed along with her. It was always refreshing to see her smile.
She placed her hand on my face and cleared my hair from hanging over my ears, “Listen, Alan. I am so terribly sorry the way I must have been treating you these past few weeks.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mom. I understand. He means a lot to me too.”
“Yes, but I am your mother first. Wine? Not focusing on you when you need me? That isn’t me and we both know it.”
She leaned forward and gave me a tight hug. “Make me a promise,” she said.
I hugged her back, “Anything.”
“If something happens and we are stuck in a similar predicament, you won’t let me get that way. You’ll put an end to it, won’t you?”
I knew what she meant, but I thought about the memory stone and what it could potentially do to
my father if it backfires. Darius wasn’t alive to support us and money would run low if Dad were to die. I was too young to support my mother, but I couldn’t afford to think like that. I snapped out of it.
“I will,” I said.
“Good,” she said as she let go. “How did everything go today? Did you have fun with your father?”
“We saw the bookstore and the café. Nothing unusual,” I said. I hated lying to her but it felt more than appropriate at that present time.
“That is good news, right? We need a break from the unusual.”
She got up off the couch and stretched one last time before she walked up stairs to take a shower before dinner. “Hopefully,” I thought, “Things will be normal again, now.”
I could only hope.
The Silhouette (Alan Quinn and the Second Lifes) Page 23
