Luminous

by Katie French

  One day, Dad was at work and Mom was home watching me as she did on summers off from school. I’d walked by the kitchen counter on my way to grab a snack, only to find the ring just sitting there. She’d done dishes earlier in the day and forgotten to put it back on.

  Seeing it free of her finger made my heart literally skip in my chest. It was what I’d been waiting for all this time.

  I grabbed the ring, then snuck out of the house and down to the beach.

  My heart was pounding so hard when I got to the waterfront I was almost sick with anticipation. With my toes in the wet sand, I slipped the ring onto my finger and scanned the sky.

  Only… nothing happened. I didn’t see anything.

  Disappointment penetrated my bones, causing me to slump into the sand. It was all made up, the stories, the sightings. The dragons. The ring was just a ring. It didn’t help me see dragons everywhere, as I’d expected. I’d had glimpses of them without the ring, but now I doubted my own memories. I felt like chucking it into the lake, but Mom would be furious. I got up, ready to return it to the counter and move on with my life.

  But as my eyes skimmed past the choppy lake water, I saw something that made me turn back.

  With the waves lapping as they were, I thought at first it was nothing but a trick of the light, but then I saw it again. A deep green shape sliding out of the water and then back in again.

  Eyes wide, I realized I was seeing the dragon of the lake. Kids at school had told me it wasn’t real, but now I knew they just couldn’t see it. They didn’t have the ring. When it rose up a third time, I was positive.

  I had to get closer. Just seeing a flash of scaly skin was not enough. I wanted it all.

  Wading into the water was no big deal. I’d swam this lake since I could walk. Hip deep wasn’t scary. Shoulder deep, I started to wonder if it would grab me, but my desire was too strong. Once I could no longer touch the bottom, I started to swim out.

  The current felt stronger than I remembered. My fear grew, but curiosity wouldn’t let me swim back. Stroke after stroke, I headed out to where I’d seen the shimmery image.

  It was then that something grabbed my ankle.

  My head was underwater before I could scream. Water flooded my senses, and panic spiked through my body. Thrashing at the water, I tried to kick my way free and reach the surface. I opened my eyes, but the murky water was churning with my strokes. There was a flash of movement before whatever had my ankle let go.

  Scrambling for the surface, I made it back up, gasping and spitting water. When I was able to draw breath, I used it to scream.

  “Mom! Help!”

  Terrified, I tried to swim to shore. But it grabbed me again and yanked me down.

  This time when I went under, I saw a large reptilian claw clamped around my foot.

  Fear had its own hold on me, paralyzing every muscle.

  The water churned as if something large were moving beneath me. Once again, I was let go. I broke the surface, coughing and screaming. This time, Mom was charging into the water.

  “Lila!” Her face was white with terror.

  I reached for her, choking on water and fear.

  When her arms were around me, the relief was instantaneous. I hugged her, causing us both to dip into the water before I let go.

  “Lila,” she puffed, blowing water out of her mouth.

  “There’s something down there!”

  She peered down, her eyes growing wide. “Swim back!”

  I wanted to believe she had it all under control, that she was going to save us both, but the fear on her face let me know otherwise. She took a deep breath and dove down.

  “Mom,” I screamed, watching her shape disappear. I reached for her, wanting to draw her back to me, but my fingers slipped through empty water. Kicking around, I searched the water.

  “Mom!”

  The water below me began to churn. It bubbled like a hot tub set to high. Light flashed below me, a pulsing greenish-blue.

  “Mom!”

  A spout shot up, blasting me half a dozen feet in the air. I flew up and then came crashing down, going under again.

  Underwater, two gigantic dragons were locked in combat. Mom floated in the center, a corona of light around her. It was luminous and all encompassing. She was protected within that light. She would be okay. She had to be.

  The water blasted me upward again. My head broke the surface. Gasping, I fell, splashing into the churning surface. My feet hit the rocky bottom. I stood, sucking air.

  “Mom!”

  Eyes open, I dropped my head underwater. The light was gone.

  So was Mom.

  They found her body three days later. She floated to shore seventy-five miles from our home on the other side of the lake. They said cause of death was drowning.

  When I told Dad what I saw, when I told everyone what I saw, they sent me to a therapist. They whispered about trauma-induced hallucinations. They talked behind my back about the guilt I must feel. What a burden it was.

  I had killed my mother.

  It was only when I heard other people say it that I started to believe it was true.

  I killed my mother. It was my fault she went into the water. She swam out after me. I made up those dragons to try to divert the blame onto someone or something else. They weren’t real.

  Dragons were figments of my tortured imagination meant to protect me from the horrible reality.

  I put the ring away after her funeral, and I didn’t pick it up until that night.

  The night Tom brought up Mom. The night my friends went missing.

  Sitting in my car, I looked down at the ring on my finger, twisting it over and over.

  Then I left the police station and drove to Tom Palmer’s house. I would refuse to leave until he gave me answers.

  Chapter Twelve

  I drove to the Palmer’s with a hornet’s nest in my stomach. I was not going to back down. I was going to find a way to make Tom tell me what he knew.

  How was I going to do that? That was the only hitch in my plan, the one that was making my palms sweat on the steering wheel.

  Finding their tree-lined path was not a problem. In the daylight, the tunnel of trees didn’t seem quite so frightening as I journeyed farther in. The mansion, too, looked less creepy and resembled the interesting piece of Gothic architecture it was—not a haunted house like the last time. When I pulled up the driveway, my eyes immediately went to the cupola and the window where I’d seen Tom’s face that night, but the curtains were drawn. Tom’s Hummer was here, though, on a pad off to the side.

  Bingo.

  In case he tried a quick escape, I parked my car behind his SUV. Getting out before my nerves made me abort the whole mission and nausea caused me to lose the basket of fries I’d had for lunch, I set my shoulders. Heart pounding with fear and anger, I marched up the porch steps and hammered on the old wooden door.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  My knock echoed loudly around the wrap-around porch, gaze drifting to the rusty windchimes on a hook and over to the twin rocking chairs that appeared unused. The porch seemed as if no one ever used it, though they had a dock with a boat so who’d want to sit here with that option? Still, I thought someone with a house as big as this would put some effort into maintaining it.

  Moments ticked passed. I couldn’t hear any noise inside. No footsteps headed my way. I knocked again.

  “Tom,” I yelled. “Tom, I know you’re in there. I see your car. Open the door.”

  Nothing.

  My plan was falling apart at the seams. Was he hiding inside or was he not home? There was also the possibility he was down at the lake, though only a monster would go for a nice afternoon dip when someone had died out on that water.

  Our local beach was normally bursting with people after school and on the weekends, but since the abduction and death, no one had dared set foot in the lake. It reminded me of Jaws, that cheesy movie about the killer shark. But there were no sharks in our
waters. This was something else entirely.

  “We’re gonna need a bigger boat,” I said, repeating the famous movie line.

  I left the porch, scanning the windows like the world’s biggest stalker, before going around the side. I skirted the porch past Mrs. Palmer’s flowerbeds full of withering hostas. With all the trees around, the plants didn’t get much sun, so it made sense they weren’t thriving, but it just seemed like another indication of neglect. Either the Palmers weren’t into home DIY or they had other things on their minds.

  The side of the house was much like the front—ornate woodwork, white flaking paint, and shaded windows. The backyard was small, with a stone patio, a rusty gas grill, and a table and chairs that also looked unused.

  Spotting the cobblestone footpath at the end of the patio, I trailed my gaze toward the trees, a passage that pointed in the direction I needed to go. I walked to the edge of their yard to the tall trees, seeing only forest. Then I plunged inside before I could talk myself out of it.

  Around me, the trees rose. The birds twittered in the branches, and the wind shook the leaves. But the path was longer than I’d thought, and I began to realize how isolated I was. If something were to happen to me, no one would hear me scream.

  I had my cell phone. Pulling it out, I checked to make sure it was charged. No bars. I had no signal out here. Swallowing hard, I shoved it back in my pocket as my nerves began to get the best of me.

  Thick shadows danced all around me. The trees seemed to close in as I stared. Still, I’d told myself I would get answers. My friends deserved it. Somehow, I made myself keep going.

  Soon, a different sound replaced the call of birds overhead. It was an intermittent shush shush, like a shovel being plunged into the dirt.

  Who was digging this deep in the forest? And why?

  Nervous, I tried to creep forward without being seen or heard. Sticking to the thickest part of the trees, I managed to conceal myself while sneaking up on a figure digging a hole.

  The shovelhead flew up, dumping clods of dirt as it arched through the air. Dirty, baggy coveralls hid the shape of a person who stood hip deep in the hole. A hat concealed their hair and face.

  I wanted to see who it was. A hole could mean a body. And a body could mean a crime. Was I looking at a murderer right now? My heart beat hard as I crouched low and crept closer.

  When I was as close as I thought prudent, I stopped. Clutching the tree in front of me for support, I leaned around the trunk, trying to get a better view. He or she was creating a sizable hole. One big enough to hide a body. I got out my phone and carefully checked the setting before starting to film. I didn’t want some stupid camera noise to give me away.

  As I filmed, the person stopped digging, dusting off his gloved hands. He climbed up, then reached down for something I hadn’t noticed before. With a jerk and a grunt, he pulled and slid a shape wrapped in a black tarp into the hole.

  God, this was it. This had to be a body. I tried to zoom my phone camera in, but the image blurred. Barely breathing, I leaned forward, gripping a branch for stability. It broke under my weight, the snap echoing in the quiet forest.

  The digger’s head lurched up, locking on me.

  It was Tara Palmer.

  “I see you there, Lila,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Come out.”

  She stalked toward me, holding the shovel in both gloved hands. Dirty and wearing coveralls, she was much changed from when I’d last seen her on the porch, more like someone who could hit a person with a shovel and dump their body in a hole.

  I wanted to run, but I didn’t dare turn my back when she had a weapon and I didn’t. Feet on the path, I stood, ready to run.

  I said the first thing that came into my head. “Where’s Tom?”

  Her brow creased like that was not what she was expecting me to say. “He’s out with a friend. But it seems like I should be the one asking you questions since you are here trespassing on my property.”

  “I’m looking for Tom,” I said. “He said he’d meet me here.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Funny. He didn’t mention anything like that to me.”

  “Maybe he knew you were busy. Doing some new planting?” I nodded behind her at the hole.

  She didn’t take the bait, choosing instead to watch me like a hawk. “You are a very nosy girl, aren’t you, Lila?”

  “Not nosy. I just want the truth.” I met her gaze. Even if she was a grown woman, a pillar of our community, I knew there was something up with her.

  “You want the truth?” she said, raising a trim eyebrow.

  I nodded.

  “You know, Lila, I like you. I like your spirit. I want to give you some advice, woman to woman. There’s a time in every person’s life when they need to ask themselves if they want to get involved. A crossroads, so to speak. A time when they can walk away, and everything can stay as pleasant and happy as it once was. Or, instead, they can stick their dirty little noses into something they cannot possibly understand.” She looked at me to make sure I was listening before continuing. “One path keeps that person and the people they love safe. The other path leads to misery and darkness. Do you understand what I’m saying, Lila?” Her eyes were cold. She stared at me unflinching.

  Was she threatening me? But how could she hurt me more than I’d already been hurt? Mom was dead, and my best friend was missing.

  “I’m not going to let you hide this from everyone,” I said, my pulse beating in my ears. “I know you and your son know something about what happened.” My eyes flicked to the hole and back to her face. “I’m going to find out the truth.”

  She nodded slowly. “You’ve made your bed, then.”

  “What?” I asked, not sure I heard her right.

  “Come see,” she said, as if she’d given up.

  I eyed the shovel in her hands.

  She tossed it away into the woods, demonstrating her empty hands in a show of good faith.

  I didn’t want to trust her, but I had to see what was in that hole. Shaking, I walked forward, my eyes locked on her for any movement. The closer I got, the more the smell of loamy earth and a distinct tang of rot clogged my nostrils. Something was decomposing.

  I could barely breathe as I got near the dirt pile.

  Stopping at the edge, I glanced at her to make sure she wasn’t trying anything funny. She stared at me like she was bored and needed me to get on with it.

  I took a deep breath and looked down.

  The black tarp lay at the bottom, concealing a lump. A swatch of dark brown hair stuck out at one edge. Tensing, I zeroed in on it until it took shape in my mind.

  A paw?

  Tara used a stick to flip the tarp back, revealing the dead body of a large German Shepherd.

  “What is this?” I asked, feeling horrified and confused at the same time.

  “Sometimes my clients are too distraught to come and get their pets after they die. I have a freezer to preserve them, but it gets full. Normally, we burn the bodies, but the crematorium is on the fritz and we can’t get someone out to fix it, so a solution must be found.” She gestured to the forest around us.

  Other mounds of dirt, some fresh, some old, lay around us. Small, crude crosses made from sticks poked out of the ground beside several graves. The effect was completely creepy.

  Suddenly, I wanted to run far away.

  Shaking, I backed up, but Tara was very close to me. Her eyes were menacing, and a shade darker than I remembered.

  Her lips pulled back from very white teeth. “Remember, Lila, I gave you the choice. You said you wanted to know regardless of the consequences.”

  I took several steps back from her, nearly tripping over a root. Gripping the tree to stabilize myself, I kept my eyes on her. Why did I get the impression she was talking about something other than her pet cemetery? Why did the look in Tara’s eyes make me think she might kill me before I got out of the woods?

  “Tell Tom I stopped by,” was my stammered respons
e.

  She picked up her shovel and shoved it into the pile of dirt. “I’ll tell him, Lila. Thanks for stopping by.”

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I ran the hell out of there.

  Sprinting through the trees, I kept glancing over my shoulder. I hadn’t been this afraid since that time in the water. Tara Palmer was going to kill me. I ran faster.

  Despite my fear and panic, though, I made it out of the forest and back to the house. My lungs burned and my legs begged for a break, but I sprinted to my car without stopping. When I got there, I jumped in, started the engine, and peeled out, gravel pinging the underside of my Mustang.

  Only when I was on the open road did my heartbeat start to slow down.

  I had to get home and talk to Dad. He’d know what to do next.

  Pulling down our driveway, I was relieved to see his Jeep on the pad. I parked next to his car and ran in the house.

  “Dad?”

  No answer.

  I hurried around our little bungalow calling his name, but it didn’t take me long to realize he wasn’t there. Dad, who never went anywhere or talked to anyone, was gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Heart in my throat, I ran out of the house. Dad’s phone and car keys were on their usual spot on the kitchen counter, so he had to be outside, never mind the insistent alarm in my head that kept blaring Tara Palmer’s words back at me.

  One path keeps that person and the people they love safe. The other…

  After those ominous words, she’d promised misery and darkness. Taking Dad from me delivered on that promise. But why take him? Why not just take me?

  I poked around his Jeep first, searching the ground for any recent signs of his uneven gait, though deep inside, I realized I was looking for signs of struggle.

  Knowing he was stubborn and he might have decided to climb to the top of the lighthouse to check on its upkeep, I unlocked the heavy wooden door and sprinted up the winding stairs to the service room. I reached the top breathless, sweat pouring from unladylike places.

  He wasn’t there. I even went out on the gallery and scanned the area. Nothing.