Stolen Secret

by Piper Dow

  Joel pulled a packet of wrapped sandwiches from his pocket. He struggled to open the wrapping with his right hand, using his left hand as an anchor, but the plastic wrap made the package too slippery on his lap. Even his right hand seemed stiffer now than it had before.

  "Do you want some help?" Kelly offered after watching him struggle for a minute. She held out her hand for the package. When he handed it to her, she unwrapped the top portion, careful to keep her fingers from touching the food. She met his eyes as she held it out to him, and didn't pull back from his touch as his fingers fumbled with the sandwich.

  "Thank you." He bit into the roast beef sandwich and chewed for a long while before swallowing.

  Kelly took another sip of the tepid coffee. She sat without speaking for a while, openly studying him as he worked his way through the first sandwich. Curiosity finally made her open her mouth.

  "When did you have your stroke?"

  He finished swallowing and cleared his throat. "Four years ago. It was a bad one, took me a few months before I could shift again. And, as you can see, my shifting isn't the same as before. It takes more out of me, now. Usually when I shift now, I stay shifted for a few days so I can build up the energy to shift back."

  Kelly felt a pang of guilt. "Then, why did you do this?"

  Joel was working on peeling the wrapper from the second sandwich. He met her gaze, smiling ruefully. "I still need to feel useful, Kelly. David suggested that seeing a coyote, same as the other guy was, might be helpful for you. I was here, available, and safe. I volunteered."

  Kelly nodded slowly, thoughtful. The longer she sat with Joel, the more comfortable she was with him. That he would have done something that clearly cost him, for her, touched her. "That was very generous of you. Thank you." She reached over and took the sandwich packet he was still struggling with from him and opened it. She handed it back with a smile.

  As he munched on his second sandwich, Kelly gazed into the woods across the path from the bench. The trees were nicely spaced out and the ground cleared of underbrush, giving an airy, open feeling to the woods. Squirrels jumped from branch to branch in the treetops. The sun shone through the leafless branches to warm the earth underneath. She returned her gaze to Joel and noticed the gloves on the bench next to him. "So, do you really think those gloves belong to a Shade running through the woods?"

  He laughed, and the light-hearted sound made her grin.

  "Where are the rest of the clothes? You saw me shift. In my Shadeform, I don't need gloves. In my human form, I need a whole lot more than just gloves!"

  Kelly joined in his continued laughter, realizing the truth of his statement. She pictured Shades having to leave their homes without clothes to be able to shift for a run in the park, though, and had more questions. "How do they manage their shifting, then? They can't walk out here naked, but if they have any neighbors they can't really just change in their homes and walk out in Shadeform."

  Joel's laughter faded into a chuckle before he answered. "Most of the Shades around here probably can, actually. This is a pretty rural area, so they just time their comings and goings and make sure they have doors facing the backyard or fence or something. But, those who live in town, or in a city, you're right. They might walk into the woods and undress, then shift, leaving their clothes in a pile they can get back to without witnesses. Usually, if they've planned to shift, they're wearing minimal clothing, so they might even be able to shift out of it, like I did. The getting back into it is harder. Partially shifting, like you saw me do so I could use my hands, takes more energy. Holding the shift, or maybe shifting part and reversing it, that takes a lot of energy."

  Kelly's mind saw Mark's partially shifted hand on her arm, long hair and long nails gripping her to prevent her from running. He had shifted so quickly she had doubted what her eyes had seen. Then he had shifted his face, growing a snout and large, snapping teeth. She shook her head quickly to dispel the images and took a deep breath.

  "That's it, nice and slow," Joel said. He watched her steadily, his face turned to her. His hands, now emptied of sandwiches, rested on the head of his cane.

  Kelly closed her eyes and focused on expanding her lungs, then carefully pushing the air out. She was safe. Mark was dead, and she was safe. She inhaled, paused, and exhaled slowly again.

  "You don't have to pursue this, you know," Joel's voice was soft. "Nobody would think less of you, if you wanted to just go on with the life you had planned the way you had planned it."

  Kelly opened her eyes. She looked into his eyes and saw compassion. A lump in her throat made her words thick. "My sister is a Shade." She was surprised by the tears suddenly spilling from her eyes. "She didn't ask for this and she doesn't want it. I can't just go on with my life the way I had planned it because I planned it with my normal sister in it, and I don't have that anymore." She wiped her face. "I would think less of me, if I didn't try to support her."

  Joel reached over with his gnarled left hand and clumsily patted her leg. "You can support her without working for the task force. You can continue to be a loving sister and help her pursue her dreams without trying to catch dark Shades." He paused as though considering his words, then continued, "You can find ways to support your sister and even other Shades without working with the task force. You're more apt to face dark Shades while working with the task force than in general, because of the nature of the job."

  Kelly met his eyes. Did he think she couldn't get past what she'd seen?

  "You could be a valuable team member, if you do choose to continue," he answered her question before she had time to ask it. "But you need to know, you have other options, and it doesn't mean you don't love your sister if you decide to take one of them."

  Kelly wiped at the fresh tears on her cheeks and nodded. She managed a tremulous smile.

  Joel returned his hand to his cane and moved the other hand to the armrest of the bench and pushed himself to standing. Kelly stood, too, and followed him back to the head of the park. She had composed herself by the time they reached the sitting area.

  He met her eyes and smiled. "You're a good kid. Your sister is lucky to have you."

  "Thank you, Joel. I'll think about what you said."

  He stood back as she climbed into her car. Kelly gave him a tight smile and waved, then backed out of her spot and headed for Meldon. She was glad she didn't have any more finals to study for, because she didn't think she could focus on anything right now.

  Chapter six

  Matthew tugged the hood of his sweatshirt to make it bunch around the back of his neck where the wind always snuck down his back. He handed over his dollar and change to pay for his coffee and headed back outside. He nodded at the woman heading into the store, holding the door so that she could enter.

  "Thank you." She threw the words over her shoulder.

  He let the door swing shut. Lifting the steaming cup to his mouth, he took a hesitant sip. Too hot still. He moved along the sidewalk in front of the convenience store and found a spot against the wall to lean where there was a sliver of sun. It wouldn't take long for the coffee to cool in this temperature. He would have liked to add cream, he preferred his coffee light, but the store was out of lactose-free creamers. He knew from past experience that crapping in the woods because the cramps were too bad to get to the gas station bathroom wasn't worth the momentary pleasure of adding cream to his coffee.

  Matt watched the cars pulling up to the pumps, their drivers sliding credit cards in and tapping buttons before lifting out the nozzles. Some watched the numbers spin by like they were feeling every penny being pulled from their grasp; others gazed about the station grounds, checking out the other cars or tapping along to the tinny music being piped through the station's speakers. Matt watched a kid his age squeeze the handle four times after it had stopped, apparently trying to finish on an even number of cents. He took another sip of the coffee.

  Better. It didn't burn his tongue. He watched a girl climb out of her littl
e black Kia and start toward the door. Her honey blonde hair was tied back in a loose ponytail that tangled with the collar of her army green coat. His eyes swept down her denim clad legs to her low-heeled boots before returning to her face. She met his gaze.

  "Hey," she said. It was a greeting, not a challenge.

  He could feel himself reddening. He dropped his eyes. "Hey," he returned. He was conscious of the fact he hadn't done more than wash up in the gas station's bathroom in, well, he couldn't remember.

  "Not too shabby a day, for the end of December," she offered.

  He lifted his gaze to the sky, which had small patches of blue showing through a mostly gray field. "Yeah," he agreed. His tongue felt sluggish, unused to having to contribute to conversation. "I think the clouds help keep the warmth closer to the ground."

  She furrowed her brow in thoughtful surprise. "I've never thought of that. You could be right!" She grinned at him. "Enjoy it while it lasts, right? Hope you have a good afternoon!" She headed into the store.

  Matt bent his head over his cup and let the warmth of the sun soak in. His tent in the woods offered shelter from the wet, but did nothing to help keep the cold and wind out. And while the cloud cover helped keep the warmth closer for now, it would soon be bringing snow, or rain. Of the two, Matt preferred snow. Snow was cold, but if he put it against the sides of the tarp, it would help insulate his little tent. Rain just made life more uncomfortable all ways around.

  "Here. I thought you might like one."

  The blonde girl was holding out a granola bar. His hand came up automatically to take it from her. It was one of the expensive ones, with the nuts and dark chocolate and other wholesome stuff in it.

  "Thanks," he said, lifting his eyes to her lips.

  "They're my favorite kind. Well, these and the kind with coconut, but not everyone likes coconut." She smiled. It was a nice smile, with even white teeth and the flicker of a dimple to the right of her mouth.

  He lifted his eyes to meet hers. He nodded, and gave a quick smile in return. "Thank you."

  She caught a loose hair with one hand and tucked it behind her ear. She nodded, then headed back to her car.

  Matt turned the granola bar over in his hand, checking the ingredients. He was usually pretty safe with dark chocolate, but if he was right, and it was going to snow, he wanted to be safely under the tarp and not making repeated trips outside. No milk, no whey, no caseinate—he pocketed the bar for later.

  A shadow passed overhead as the clouds filled the pocket of sky the sun had been shining through. Matt glanced around the parking lot and decided he had spent enough time there. He drained the coffee cup and walked it over to the trash can. He pulled the door open and headed for the bathroom without catching anyone's eye. The workers here knew him, they knew he used the restroom as his own, but he made sure he always cleaned it up before he left, oftentimes even leaving it better than when he walked in. They left him alone. He wanted that to continue.

  Washing his hands when he was finished, Matt glanced into the mirror. He frowned. He should probably try cutting his hair again. He had an electric razor that he brought in here once a week to charge, that helped keep him from looking too grungy, but his hair was curling up around his ears and his collar.

  Turning from the mirror to grab a paper hand towel, he wondered again why it mattered. Girls like that blonde would never consider him good enough. He was never going to have the fancy house and the fancy car. His step-father Tony had reminded him every day that stupid people were only good for stupid jobs. Matt knew Tony was mean, a jerk who got meaner as he got older, but still, he might have been right.

  He lifted a hand in a wave at the kid at the cash register on his way out the door. It was almost four, already getting dark. Matt jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and started down the street. He checked the road for traffic before crossing, then glanced around. When he didn't see anyone, he stepped over the guardrail and trotted through the trees down the embankment.

  He tried to vary his route to the tent. He'd lost a tarp and most of his gear the first summer he'd left his step-father's house because he'd been too obvious, too friendly with the people he had run into. He'd taken his backpack to a gas station to wash up. When he'd returned, almost everything had been stolen. What hadn't been stolen had been slashed or torn apart.

  Matt had stayed a night at a shelter, and one of the men there told him to visit an organization near the center of town that collected sleeping bags and tarps to distribute to the homeless. He'd gone to see them and received the tent and sleeping bag. Then he'd been afraid to leave any of his things alone for months.

  Now, he followed a path alongside the road until the road curved to the right. The path curved, too, but Matt picked his way around the large pines straight ahead and found a game trail that wound deeper into the forest. He surveyed the woods around him once before moving forward to his camp.

  He knew he could have chosen an easier spot to get to, but he'd chosen this space because he was unlikely to be followed. Also, when it did snow, not as much would make it through the tree canopy to land on his tarp. He gave the place a cursory once over as he approached. When he stayed closer to where he could find work, he used to pack up every day, trying to keep his stuff safe. He realized it made little sense, taking time and energy to set up and break down camp every day, sometimes after a full day of physically demanding work.

  Instead, he found a spot he could leave his camp set up. It was further away from the day work office, though, too far to walk to every day. He could make his money stretch, supplementing by finding a lot of things for free, but he walked to the office every couple of weeks to work. Those days he stayed where he could at night so he could be one of the first at the office, but he didn't like to leave his camp for too long. He made a point of leaving everything neat and orderly so that he could tell if anyone else had been in his camp while he was gone.

  He looked around now. Nothing looked disturbed. He had a specific way of buttoning the tent flaps, and they were still secured. The tarp over the top was still tied out to the sides the way he had left it. He glanced at the bushes nearby where his cooler was covered by leaves and moss, still undisturbed. Everything was okay. He unbuttoned the tent flap and crawled inside.

  Chapter seven

  Kelly eased to a stop in the driveway next to her mother's car. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard and frowned. The day had grown gradually darker thanks to the increasing cloud cover. Consumed by her thoughts, she hadn't noticed the oncoming dusk.

  The warmth of the light falling on the lawn from the kitchen window made her pause, and she stared up at the house. Kelly knew her parents would ask where she had been. Her normal response to gloss over the details might keep them from worrying about her, but she felt disquieted as she cast for a plausible story. Maybe it was time to stop hiding her heart and be honest with her parents.

  She closed her eyes. "God, give me wisdom here, help me to know what to say. And soften their hearts to be able to hear." She took a breath, slowly exhaling. After a moment, she opened her door and headed for the house.

  Her mother glanced up from the stove as Kelly came through the door. "Hi, sweetheart. Supper is almost ready. Go wash up." She smiled, a bright, easy smile that lit up her features.

  Kelly nodded, glancing around the kitchen and inhaling deeply. The table was already set, with a pitcher of ice water and a platter of buttermilk biscuits already waiting for the rest of the meal to join them. The air was filled with delicious aromas, though Kelly couldn't identify anything specific. She headed for the living room, shrugging off her coat and laying it on the arm of the chair she swung her bag into. Her father was watching the news.

  "Sorry I'm late, I had a meeting that took longer than I expected it to," she said. She was ready to explain further, but something held her back. Her mother was humming as she carried the pot to the sink and drained the green beans into a colander. Something was going on. Kelly's explan
ation could wait. "What's up with Mom?"

  He turned his face her direction, but his eyes were glued to the screen, where the sportscaster was reviewing the schedule for the week. "She'll tell us during supper," he said. Kelly was sure he threw out the comment to head off further conversation so he could catch the rest of the reporter's remarks.

  Glancing at her mother's back, Kelly shrugged. Whatever it was seemed to be good news. She headed for the bathroom to wash her hands. She glanced into Wayne's room as she passed. He was laying across his bed, his arms hanging over the side and holding his book open on the floor.

  "Hey, what's up with Mom?"

  He lifted his head to look at her. "I don't know, she hasn't said. But she's been singing away in there all afternoon, and she's done baked potatoes and some kind of oven steak thing. I hope it's ready soon, the smell is driving me crazy! I'm starving!"

  "She told me to wash up."

  "Great!" Wayne jumped up from the bed, tossing his book near his pillow.

  Kelly beat him to the bathroom and closed the door in his face, grinning. She deliberately dawdled a few extra minutes in the room before opening the door, only to encounter a pie plate of shaving cream taped chest-height in the doorway. She was unable to halt her momentum and walked right into it.

  "Wayne!" Her enraged shriek triggered volleys of laughter.

  "Oh my gosh, you should see your face!" He mimicked an expression of shock and outrage, then convulsed in laughter again.

  Kelly grabbed the hand towel from the ring inside the door and wiped her face and shirt with it, then grabbed Wayne's shoulders and rubbed the towel in his face.

  "Ooh, funny boy, does this make you laugh?"

  He put his hands up to deflect and Kelly bounced into the wall. She shoved back, trying to get the dampened towel down the neck of his t-shirt.

  "Knock it off!" Dad's voice bellowed from the living room.