“I already told you, I wanted to be sure that you got in okay,” she says, the corners of her mouth curling up almost imperceptibly.
She's standing so close I can smell the scent of her hair; lilies and sunshine. The heat of her breath on my face when she speaks sends waves of beautiful goosebumps cascading down my arms. I watch her lips moving and I find myself daydreaming about how wonderfully soft they must be. Somehow, I find the strength to talk.
“You knew I got in all right. You unlocked the door. You had to have seen me.”
“Maybe.” She turns and steps away.
Again, I feel that same sense of loss when she made the paper vanish.
“What do you want from me?”
“Ah, that's the question, isn't it?” she replies as she moves slowly, almost fluidly toward the window.
The sound of the front door opening followed by my mother's voice, drifts up the stairs.
“Eve? Are you home?”
“Yeah. I'm up here. Be right down.”
I turn back to Kateri just in time to watch as she steps into the darkened area of my room by the window and then she's gone again, literally melting into the shadows. I shake my head and start to move to the door when I catch sight of the corner of something sticking out of the center of my book. I snatch the novel off the bed and pull another small sheet of paper out from between the faded and worn pages. Unfolding it carefully, my eyes skim across the words, my fingers brushing over the raised letters.
This is just the beginning ...
Kateri
Chapter Four
After drying and brushing out my hair in the bathroom, I head downstairs. I have the second note from Kateri tucked into my bra, for safekeeping. It's the only real evidence that I'm not going crazy, and I'm not about to let this one disappear. When I reach the landing at the bottom of the stairs, I can already smell the scent of hot pizza drifting out of the kitchen. As I walk in, my mother turns and smiles, an open box filled with a large pepperoni and mushroom pie sitting on the counter.
“Hi honey, brought dinner,” she says as she takes a sip from the beer can in her hand.
“Hi, Mom. I can see that. Your meeting end early?” I walk over and pick up a slice, cheese stretching in long strings before finally breaking.
“Yeah, didn't go as long as I thought.”
“That's good,” I say between bites.
“How was your day?”
She picks up a piece and holds it over the counter as we stand there on opposite sides of the center island enjoying a quiet moment together. For a second, I'm not sure how to answer, but this doesn't seem like the time to tell her about my new ‘friend’.
“It was okay,” I reply as I cross the kitchen, open the fridge, and remove a bottle of water before walking back around to the other side.
“Just okay?”
I look at her for a second, and I start to think she knows I'm not telling her everything, but that can't possibly be.
“Yeah. Kinda boring day.”
She nods and finishes off her slice before taking another.
“I got the job, by the way.”
“You did? That's awesome!”
I lean across the counter and we hug, both of us being careful not to drip pizza sauce or cheese on the other.
“The money will be great, but it's going to be a lot of work.”
I nod.
“Sure.”
“I'm going to need your help around here even more than normal,” she says.
“Oh yeah, no problem. I'm so proud of you, Mom.”
“Thanks, baby. There's something else. I may have to go out of town some, you know, to visit the client.”
I nod again.
“That's cool. I can take care of myself, you know.”
“I know you can,” she says, but I can tell there's something else she's not saying.
“What is it?” I set my second slice down in the box lid.
She frowns and looks at me.
“I'm worried about your ... spells,” she says quietly.
Spells. Her pleasant word for ‘panic attacks’.
“I'm fine, Mom. I can deal with them if they happen.”
She looks at me, and I can tell she's not completely convinced.
“I know you can, dear, I just worry, that's all.”
“I know, but I'll be fine. When will you have to go?”
“It may be soon. I have to check on flights tonight,” she says, pausing for a moment.
“What?” I take another bite.
“I may have to fly out tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh, well that's okay. You have to do what you have to do. You can't let this opportunity get away.”
She smiles at me, before reaching across the counter and gently squeezing my hand. We finish off the rest of the pizza, and I eat too much, as usual. After helping her clean up the kitchen, and then watching a couple of episodes of The Walking Dead we had DVR'd, mom heads to her studio to work, and I wander upstairs to my room. It's Friday, so luckily, I have very little homework for the weekend. I don't think I'd be able to concentrate long enough to get it done anyway. When I get to my room, I close the door quietly and sit down on the edge of the bed. I reach into my shirt and retrieve the folded over piece of paper. When I open it, I sit for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded.
Meet me at Indian Lake tomorrow night at 9
Kateri
“What the hell?” I say to myself.
I mean, seriously, how is she doing that? I read the note again, and there's a little part of me that wishes it was tonight. I lay back on the bed, holding the paper against my chest, when my phone rings. I pick it up and check the ID. It's Amanda. I slip the note under my pillow before answering.
“Hey, Amanda,” I say with a cheerful tone.
“Hey, Eve. How did the rest of the day go?”
“It was all right. Sorry I left without saying bye.”
“I understand. It’s cool. You doin’ okay?”
I sigh quietly.
“Come on, talk.”
“I just … I just wish I could tell them I don’t look at every girl I see thinking about how I want to see them naked or have sex with them.”
“Well, they’re pretty slutty, they probably look at every guy like that.”
I giggle and smile.
“I mean, we all know what we like and what we want, and even if I was looking at them, they should be flattered, right? After all, I don’t mind it when a guy looks at me, and I can appreciate a good-looking man, I just don’t want what he’s got.”
Amanda laughs.
“You like tacos not hotdogs.”
“Oh my God, you are so gross,” I say, laughing along with her.
“So, you wanna play something?” she asks.
“Sure, for a little bit anyway.”
I don't really want to game tonight, but I know Amanda's trying to make me feel better.
“Some Forza?”
“Hells, yeah,” I reply, although my enthusiasm is much more muted than my reaction might indicate.
“Okay, give me a minute and I'll see you online.”
We hang up and I set the phone down and sigh. Moving to the end of the bed, I flip on my TV and X-box, and sign on. It takes a few minutes and I'm in the game waiting for her.
“Hey loser,” I hear over my headset and I smile.
“Stop talking to yourself, weirdo,” I reply and we both laugh.
About an hour and six lost races later, I say goodnight to Amanda and sign off. After hanging my headset on the TV, I head to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I brush my teeth, take off the little bit of makeup I'm wearing and run a brush through my hair a few times. As I walk back into my bedroom, I half expect to find Kateri there. I hate to admit it, but I'm disappointed when she's not. I strip down, switch off the lamp by my bed and slip under the covers. The only illumination comes from the streetlight out front of our building. Instead of closing my eyes, I lie there staring
at the ceiling while images of Kateri run through my mind.
A few seconds later, the text alert on my phone goes off. I pick it up off the nightstand. A message from Amanda:
Yo dork, u want to go to the movies tomorrow night?
Sorry, can’t. have plans.
Cool, ttyl
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I think.
I just told my best friend I couldn't go to the movies with her tomorrow, so I can go and meet a possible figment of my imagination at the park.
I set the phone down again and reach under my pillow and pull out the little slip of paper. As I open it, I half expect to see a different message this time, but it's still the same, and again, I'm disappointed. I hold it for a while, turning it over and over again in my hand. For the first time, I notice it's not any kind of paper I recognize. It's thicker, and rougher than anything I've felt before. It feels sort of like the parchment I've seen my mother using when she sketches, but it seems older and more primitive. Without thinking, I bring an edge of it to my nose and inhale. The same scent of lilies and sunshine I smelled on Kateri's hair brings a smile automatically to my face.
“Stop it!” I scold myself.
I slide the paper back under my pillow and roll over on my side, closing my eyes. The minute I do, the voices start. When they first started not long after my sixteenth birthday, I tried to convince myself that they were people outside on the sidewalk having a conversation, but I knew it wasn't true. Some nights I'll put my ear-buds in and listen to music, but it's not very comfortable and it doesn't always work anyway. The voices used to trigger my panic attacks, but over time, I've become more used to them.
Like this morning, I don't think they're talking to me, it's more like I'm eavesdropping on a hundred different conversations at the same time. It's impossible to focus in on one voice over the others, so it's a mish-mash of half-heard words. I sit up, leaning back against the headboard and begin breathing slowly in through my nose and out through my mouth. It takes a few minutes, but eventually I'm able to quiet them until they're deep in the background.
I wish I could talk to someone about them, but I know where that conversation is likely to lead. Medication. Therapy. Maybe worse. Being a teenager, I've read a lot on the internet, and with my symptoms, even I would diagnose myself with schizophrenia. The thing is, I know I'm not crazy. The voices are real. Just because no one else can hear them, doesn't mean they aren't. I know Kateri is real. I haven't physically touched her yet, but I've smelled her scent and the note is proof enough that she exists.
With the voices finally under control, I lay back down and pull the covers up.
I step outside, standing on our small concrete porch for a few minutes before heading down the stairs. I seem to be the only person out this early. The air is cold, and I watch as my breath turns to mist and floats up and away on the light breeze. As I walk along the empty street, I catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. Unlike before, when I turn to look, they don't vanish. Instead, they begin swirling around me like ghosts, and then the voices begin. Dozens of voices, all speaking at the same time, so many that I can feel myself becoming overwhelmed.
They're all trying to tell me something, trying to warn me, but I can't understand what they're saying. I start running and then suddenly, the sky bursts into a massive firestorm that begins rolling toward me, devouring everything in its path. Turning, I start to flee when I feel someone take my hand. When I look, it's Kateri. Her fingers are softer than I ever imagined, but also full of strength and power. She looks at me with those mesmerizing eyes.
“Come with me,” she says in a calming tone.
“But what about that?” I point to the approaching wall of fire.
She looks at me, the color of her eyes swirling like a whirlpool. She shakes her head, a gentle smile on her face.
“This is what you're meant for,” she says as we stand in the street watching as the tidal wave of flames rushes toward us.
I look over at her and a sense of tranquility washes over me as I draw strength from her.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
I nod slowly.
“Yes.”
The wall of flames breaks upon us like a tsunami and I sit bolt upright in bed, my heart racing. My palms are sweating, and it takes me a few seconds to realize where I am. I glance over at my alarm clock.
3:40 a.m.
I bring my legs up and rest my head on my knees.
Maybe I am going crazy. Nightmares are not normal for me. I can't remember the last time I had one. I slip my hand under my pillow and pull out the little square piece of paper. It's still here, proof that what's happening to me is real, and then a thought occurs to me. Which is worse? I'm going crazy, or all this is real?
I open the folded parchment and my mouth drops open.
You should get some sleep ... it's going to be a wild night
Kateri
A part of me is a little creeped out that she's keeping such close tabs on me. I mean, I don't know if she's watching me in the night or what, but there's another small part, deep, deep down that's thrilled she seems so interested. I lay down again, wrapping the sheets tightly around me, the paper clasped in my hand.
No more nightmares haunt me.
As my eyes slowly open, I look at the clock again.
7:47 a.m.
I groan and roll over, pulling the sheets up even higher, but my brain is already on the move and no matter how hard I try I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep. I sigh and force myself out of bed, and as my feet touch the floor I suddenly remember the paper. I held onto it all night, tightly clasped in my fist. I open my hand and it falls out on the bed. Even though my palm and fingers are marked with creases from gripping it all night, the parchment itself is completely wrinkle free. Picking it up, I turn it over in my hand a few times before slowly opening it.
Morning. Don't forget about tonight
Kateri
Seriously? Don't they have cell phones in ... wherever she's from?
I rub some of the sleep out of my eyes before stumbling across the hall and into the bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror for a few minutes, staring at my reflection. Again, I see that odd ring of bright white between my iris and pupil, and the swirling collection of colors mixed in with my normal green, only this time the ring seems much thicker, like the white is slowly enveloping the black. I blink, and just like that, everything's back to normal. I study my eyes for a couple more seconds, but they look like they always do. Leaning on the counter for another minute, I sigh before turning and starting the shower.
Stepping into the stall, I let the water run over me for a few minutes before I wash as quickly as I can, constantly checking on the other side of the curtain for Kateri. A little bit later, I pad quietly across the hall and into my room, closing the door behind me. I dress in my normal Saturday duds; blue jeans, and a t-shirt. The one I picked is red with a black skull and crossbones, and I choose my red and white running shoes to match. Before exiting my room, I pick up the paper and slip it into my pocket.
As I step into the hallway, I notice my mother's bedroom door is still closed. She works late some nights in her studio, and with this new project and what it means for us, I'm sure she's pushing herself hard. I head downstairs, walking as quietly as I can, and purposely avoiding the creaky steps.
When I reach the landing, I turn and walk into the kitchen. I figure I'll make breakfast this morning as a surprise. I gather everything I'll need to make pancakes, including boxed mix, milk, stick butter, cinnamon, sugar, a little jar of honey, and the flat skillet. I'd make them from scratch, but this is faster and not as messy. I mix up the batter according to the directions on the box, but then I add a pinch of sugar, a dash of cinnamon, and a drizzle of honey. By the time I'm done, the skillet is hot, the butter bubbling slowly. Taking the small measuring cup with the little spout, I scoop up a portion of the batter and pour it carefully onto the pan. It sizzles for a few secon
ds as the cool batter hits the hot skillet. I repeat the process three more times until I have four pancakes cooking away on the stovetop.
I look up at the ceiling when I hear the bathroom door close. I flip the first four pancakes before quickly setting the table with plates and utensils. After stacking the first four and pouring the next quartet, I set out the syrup and tub butter along with four glasses; two filled with milk and the other two with orange juice. As I'm flipping the last cake, mom comes walking into the kitchen, still dressed in a long t-shirt and shorts; her normal sleeping attire.
“Oh honey. You didn't need to do this,” she says with a smile.
“I know, but since you're going to be gone for a few days, I figured I could give you a nice send-off.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. It's all done. Just sit.” I set four pancakes on each of our plates.
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
I clean up the kitchen while Mom showers and then packs for her trip. As I'm finishing, she comes downstairs with two suitcases, her portfolio, purse, and laptop bag.
“Jeez mom, how long you gonna be gone?” I ask, laughing.
“I know, really. It's only till Monday, but I had to bring work clothes and then something to wear in case they ask me out to dinner or drinks later.”
“Hmmm. Is this business or pleasure?”
Mom shakes her head and smiles at me. “It's business.”
“Mom,” I say, walking over and taking her hand. “You could have a little pleasure, too.”
“Eve!” she says, acting a little more shocked than I think she is.
I can't remember the last time she went out with a guy. I mean, my dad died nearly seventeen years ago, and I don't think she's been on more than two dates in all that time.
“Come on. You're still young, and a little hot too,” I say smiling. “You need to find someone, or at least have a little fun every now and then.”
All Things in the Shadows Page 3
