by ReGi McClain
Seraph’s arms engulfed her. Zeeb’s arms followed, though his tug gave her the idea he meant to drag her back to bed rather than join the hug. While she appreciated both gestures, she felt like a piece of lettuce in a toasted sandwich. A fuzzy toasted sandwich. Zeeb’s beard tickled.
“Thanks, guys. I’m okay. I need to pick up Kel.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Seraph spun her around to look at her. “We worried you were going to die.”
“I’m fine. How long has it been since we got back? I need to go check on Kel right away.” She started toward the door, intending to ignore whatever else they said.
A ball of tangled black hair huddled in one corner of her couch caught her eye. She paused.
“What ”
The girl lifted her head. “They burned my skin.”
“That’s all she says.” Zeeb put a hand on Harsha’s back and guided her toward the couch. “I think she was waiting for you on the beach.”
Harsha wiggled Zeeb’s arm off. She wanted to help the girl, but she needed to get to Kel. “It’s okay. You’re safe here. Seraph and Zeeb will take good care of you. I’m going to get my nephew. I’ll be back soon.”
Zeeb blocked her way at the door with his hands on her arms. “Harsha, I’m aware this isn’t the best time, but, do you truly believe, under the circumstances, you should be Kel’s guardian? We came close to losing you, and those bruises…” he pointed to her arms.
She looked down at herself and sucked in a breath. Black and blue splotches covered her arms and legs, leaving little of her natural skin color to view.
“Those can’t mean anything good.”
“The medicine isn’t working anymore,” she whispered to herself.
“Maybe ” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. “Maybe it’s better if you find Kel another guardian.”
Harsha glared at him, shaking, with her fists balled. “How can you say that? Elaine had no family.” Hot tears sprang into her eyes. “Even if the police found Kel’s father, Kel doesn’t know him. He knows me . He should stay with me.”
“Even if the father is out of the question, it’s possible he has family members who want Kel. If not, there’s foster care, but you’re…” His forehead creased and he cleared his throat, again. “You’re dying.”
Harsha’s tears spilled over her cheeks. “I just lost my brother and sister-in-law. I don’t want to lose Kel until I have to.”
Zeeb turned her to the mirror hanging in her entryway. The bruises marring her complexion gave her the appearance of a bullied child who’d lost a fight with a bigger opponent. He stepped between her and the mirror. “I think you have to.”
Harsha slammed her hands into his chest. “You have no right to tell me what to do!”
The girl on the couch squawked and started babbling.
Zeeb put his hands on her shoulders. “Harsha, calm down.”
Her shove failed to move Zeeb, so she stepped closer to get in his face. “Calm down?” Her voice soared into its upper reaches. “Kel could end up living with people he doesn’t even know.”
“But he’ll get to know them. Foster care isn’t that bad.”
“Like you know? I’ve been in foster care, Zeeb. I know what it’s like.”
“And it was that bad?” Seraph asked.
Harsha looked at Seraph. The redhead looked wary. On the couch, a ball of tangled, dark hair rocked back and forth, muttering to itself.
“Did they hurt you?” Seraph persisted.
A little of Harsha’s temper ebbed. “No.” She let her vision slip to mid-distance and thought back to her brief time with the family that took in her and Jason after their mother died. “No. They loved us.” She brought her focus back to Seraph. “But it was clear we were never theirs.” She turned back to Zeeb. “And they were never ours. Kel belongs with me. With Jason and Elaine gone, we need each other.”
Zeeb’s jaw tightened. “Kel belongs with someone who can take care of him.”
“I can take care of him. I took care of my sister, my mother, and my brother. I can take care of my nephew.”
“You are dying , Harsha. You can barely take care of yourself, let alone ”
Her slap cut him off.
“Harsha!” Seraph scolded.
“Get out of my way, Zeeb. I need to pick up my nephew.”
The pitiful puppy expression dragged the corners of his eyes down, but he lifted his chin. Harsha growled and stalked back to her room, where she changed into pants and a long-sleeved shirt. With sunglasses and one of Jason’s ball caps to hide most of her face, she sneaked out the door from her room to the backyard.
Mr. Campbell sat in a lawn chair, watching his boys and Kel play outside. A car Harsha didn’t recognize was in the driveway. “New car?”
“Holy shizzle! What the fart happened to you?”
Mr. Campbell’s less-than-suave attempts to avoid swearing in front of the children usually made her laugh, but not today. Wishing to avoid having her ability to care for Kel questioned again, she offered a lie she hoped sounded plausible. “TSA?”
His tirade reassured her she’d chosen the right prevarication. As he finished, Mrs. Campbell came out of the house with a woman Harsha hadn’t met before.
“This is the aunt, Ms. Hernandez. Harsha, this is Ms. Hernandez, from child services.”
“Child services?” Ice-cold dread trickled down her spine and made her hands go clammy.
Mrs. Campbell looked at her feet. “When you didn’t come back the day you planned to or answer your phone, I called her. I thought… with your condition…” She drifted away without finishing her sentence.
Ms. Hernandez held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Craigson. Pekelo has told me a lot about you. He’s very fond of you.”
Harsha allowed the woman to shake her hand but couldn’t bring herself to return the grip. “It’s Mooreland, actually. I took my mother’s name.”
“Ms. Mooreland. Mrs. Campbell informs me Pekelo’s mother and stepfather died recently. Is this true?”
Taking a deep breath to quell the urge to cry, Harsha nodded.
“Mrs. Campbell also tells me you have significant health concerns. I don’t mean to be rude, but you certainly look as if you’ve had a brush with death.”
This can’t be happening. Not yet . Her heart fluttered with anxiety. “Yes, I’m sick, but can’t we stay together until things get worse?”
“Given that bruising, I’d say things are worse. Did your boyfriend do that?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend. Please let Kel and me stay together a little longer. We’ve both lost so much.” Her vision blurred and she wavered on her feet.
“Ms. Mooreland? Are you all right?”
Harsha locked her knees to stay upright. “I’m fine. I’m tired, that’s all.”
Ms. Hernandez sighed. “I’m sorry. I truly am. You and Pekelo seem to share a strong bond, but I can see you are either terribly sick or in an abusive relationship. Either way, I am authorized to place Pekelo in our custody until we can sort the situation out. Can you think of other family members or friends who might be suitable guardians?”
“I ” Harsha’s head swam, reverberating with Zeeb’s words. She tried to argue them away, to find a loophole. She couldn’t let Kel go. Not yet. Not with Jason gone. She’d be alone with no one to care for. She scrambled for reasons to justify keeping him, but every pretext she came up with centered on herself. Kel came first. It was time to let him go, too. Her heart plummeted with the certainty of it.
She let her knees buckle and slam into the dirt. “I don’t know. The police are trying to find his father. His mother didn’t have any family. It was just the four of us. Please.” She looked up. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”
Ms. Hernandez pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to Harsha. “I’m so sorry. Please call me if you think of anyone who might make a suitable guardian. Of course, if you get effective treatment for your illness, I’m
happy to consider putting him in your custody. We’ll need it verified by a doctor. Until then, I feel it’s best if Pekelo comes with me. I’ll give you a minute to say goodbye.” She walked to the car parked in the Campbells’ driveway.
The card clutched in both hands, she mustered all her courage, stood, and crossed the lawn to where Kel was playing with his friend. He stopped when he saw her coming. “What’s wrong, Aunt Harsha?”
Bending to be closer to his eye level, she took his hand and held it. “Kel ” Her voice broke.
Tears sprang into the boy’s eyes. “Why! Why can’t I stay with you?”
Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she brushed away his tears. The hurt, angry part of her wanted to blame the Campbells and Ms. Hernandez, but she knew it wasn’t the truth. “I’m too sick.”
“But you can get better. You can go to a doctor and get better.”
“I tried. The doctors can’t make me better.”
“That’s not true!” He threw his arms around her. “I want to stay with you. You can get better if you really try. I’ll help you.”
She held him, letting his tears soak into her shirt and trying to keep hers from falling.
Ms. Hernandez stepped up behind Kel and put a hand on his shoulder. “Time to go, Pekelo.”
“No! No! I want to stay with my aunt!”
“I know.” She knelt beside him. “Your aunt and I are doing all we can to make sure you’re taken care of in the best way possible. For now, we agree it’s best for you to stay with someone who is not ill.”
Kel’s eyes pleaded with Harsha. She nodded at him, unable to say it aloud. Sobbing, he went with Ms. Hernandez.
Chapter 22
Every cell in her body screamed to go after him. To swoop him up and run. It took all her willpower to stay put until the car drove away. When it rounded the corner, she staggered home as fast as her weakened legs allowed and burst through the door.
“Zeeb! Book me another tour!”
“What?”
She grabbed his shirt and shook him. “I need you to book me another tour. They took Kel. I need to see Phyllis. Please! It’s my only chance to get him back.”
“Are you crazy?” Seraph’s eyes flared. “She came close to killing you last time. Besides, unicorn horns are hard to come by. She’s not going to have another one lying around in a cupboard she forgot to check.”
“But she might know where I can find another one. I’ll pay triple this time. Up front.”
Zeeb unwound her hands from his shirt and held them in his. “Harsha, it’s not the money we’re concerned about. We’re worried something terrible will happen to you.”
“Something worse than rotting away without my family?”
“It’s possible.”
“I have nothing left to lose. If you guys won’t take me, I’ll find other tour guides interested in ninety thousand dollars.”
Seraph’s eyes sparkled at the price. For a moment, Harsha felt sure she’d won her trip. Zeeb released her to kick the dragon’s shin.
Seraph’s sparkles faded, replaced by a concoction of embarrassment and concern. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Wailing in frustration, Harsha threw herself on the couch, her mind screaming, why? as the crushing weight of complete loss worked cracks into the foundation of her heart.
A hand, light and shy, touched her shoulder. “Moorokh?”
Sniffling and smearing away tears, Harsha looked up.
The waif-like girl’s eyes spoke all the sorrow Harsha felt. “They burned my skin.”
Harsha pulled her into a tight hug. Those four, oft-repeated syllables told her the girl both understood and needed her. She held her until her emotions floundered back into a manageable state. “I’ll help you if I can. What’s your name?”
The girl’s brows wrinkled. “Name?”
“Do your kind have names?” Harsha looked to Seraph for answer, but the redhead shrugged and shook her head, as puzzled as she, it appeared. “I’m Harsha.” She pointed to Seraph and Zeeb in turn. “These are my friends, Seraph and Zeeb.”
The girl made an O of her lips. “Mm- mmmm…” She leaned forward and peered into Harsha’s eyes as if she expected her to fill in the rest of the name.
“Mmm-Maria?”
“No. Mmmmmmm…” She paused in her vocalizing to shift her eyes upward. She seemed to be looking for the information in her abundant hair. After rummaging there, she blurted, “Maura!”
Startled by the exclamation, Harsha jerked back. She forgot her own name. SoPHE made her forget her own name. Harsha had never wished ill on anyone so much as she wished it on the people of SoPHE. Her remorse over the shredded woman and her friends’ bloody and burnt victims diminished.
Glad she had released the captive hiders and glad Zeeb had brought this one with them to provide distraction from her grief, she asked, “Where do you come from, Maura?”
After a full minute of searching her hair, Maura said a couple words that sounded like, “Clogdye cragackh.”
Seraph gasped. “That’s Irish! I recognize the word ‘shore’! Harsha, she’s from Ireland!”
“But where in Ireland? ‘Shore’ doesn’t tell us enough.”
Seraph danced in childlike delight. “Grandmother!”
Zeeb brightened. “Hey, yeah. She’ll know where Maura belongs, for sure.”
“Grandmother?” Harsha looked from Seraph to Zeeb and back to Seraph, confused. “Who’s Grandmother and how can she help?”
“My grandma! I’ll go book a flight.” She skipped to the computer desk.
“Book a flight?” Harsha watched as her friend pulled up a search engine and typed in an approximation of a well-known travel website’s name. “You’re not going to fly us there?”
“It would take a week and we’d have to fly over heavily populated areas. I’ve never flown on a jet before. This is going to be fun. How’s next week? Mind if I use your debit card, Harsha?”
Zeeb laughed. Harsha stared at him with building resentment. His laughter, a sound she’d liked until this moment, scraped the raw wounds on her heart. Seraph she excused. Seraph anticipated a visit to a beloved family member, but Zeeb’s casual switch to joviality felt like a betrayal.
He smiled at her. “I’m going to the store. You’re out of food. Is there anything you want in particular?”
Harsha shook her head, part to clear it, part in answer. What she wanted was to crawl into a corner with about seven gallons of cherry-vanilla ice cream and every Grace Kelley movie ever made while she processed her grief, but that, she feared, would not be happening anytime soon. At the moment, she’d settle for a set of darts and Zeeb’s head as a dartboard. She tried to get up from the couch to go to her room, but Maura’s clinging tied her down.
Zeeb came back around the time Harsha managed to finagle her arm away from Maura by offering her a game controller and showing her how to play the one videogame she knew how to play: Super Mario Brothers. It seemed the girl had never seen a video game before and it absorbed all her attention within seconds. Harsha eased away. Setting aside the impulse to go back into hiding in her bed, she went into the kitchen to make sure her friends put the groceries away according to her system.
“What did you get for dinner?” There appeared to be an overabundance of bone-in red meat.
“T-bones for the carnivores. I’m cooking.” Zeeb emptied one of the other bags. “Fish for you and Maura, because that’s all she’ll eat. Oh, and there’s green stuff, too, if you want it. Is something wrong?”
Is something wrong! Is anything right? Ignoring him, she dug out the green stuff. Frozen peas. She threw a bowl of them into the microwave. “What about passports? Especially Maura’s. There are strict regulations about flying out of the country with minors.” She kept her voice down to avoid attracting Maura’s attention.
“Mine’s good. I texted a contact to make forgeries for Maura. They should be here by Monday.”
At his casual mention o
f forged documents, Harsha almost dropped the pound of hamburger she’s picked up. “You what?”
“Ordered forgeries. Hiders do it all the time. Not all of us can waltz into the post office and walk out with legal documents.”
He acted as if committing a federal felony carried less risk of long-term consequence than jaywalking. Of course, he made a valid point. A woman born in the middle of the Women’s Rights Movement, but who looked twenty-six, like Seraph, would find it difficult to get a legitimate driver’s license. Knowing they intended to test the forgeries by flying out of country left a squiggly, nervous feeling in Harsha’s stomach. “And what about me?”
“I ordered you forgeries, too, just in case.” He picked up a package of meat and pulled out the electric grill.
She hadn’t meant the passport. She kept hers up to date, in case a new treatment option came up in a foreign country. She meant the choice to go on this trip, at her expense, being made with little input from her. His offhand comment testified to his efficiency as a tour guide. It also told her he took it for granted she wanted to go along.
Crummy cryptic canine. I wish he’d forget just one detail. Or be less happy about the trip. Or… Or… She didn’t know what, but she knew she disliked him at the moment. “Great. Fantastic.”
He paused in plugging in the grill to stare at her with his brows furrowed. “We did what you wanted, didn’t we? You wanted to return Maura to her family, so we’re making it happen. ‘Book me another tour.’ That’s what you said. So we did. What’s the problem?”
How can he be so dense? She wanted to return Maura to her family, yes, but not in such a rush. She needed time to mourn and prepare for her own death. Besides, she meant him to book her a tour of Alaska, not Ireland, and she felt sure he knew it.
She snapped, “Why would I want to go?”
A shade of frustration passed over his face. He placed a duo of T-bones on the grill and shut the lid. “I dunno. Meet your best friend’s family? Finish the job you started when you decided to turn Younkins’ place upside-down? Something like that.”
