by S. E. Akers
I staggered over to my dresser and stared at my vast collection of collegiate sweatshirts. I feel like a Virginia Tech girl today, I mused as I pulled out the burgundy & orange sweatshirt and tossed it onto my bed, knowing I was risking a few daggers being hurled my way. Around these parts, there was one simple rule for anything in those two colors that bore a “Hokie” mascot: “You don’t wear it, you don’t drink out of it, you don’t sit on it, and you certainly don’t date it!” Nevertheless, I was known to go against the grain — from time to time.
I shuffled to the bathroom. My plan was to take a very lazy & long shower, but our water heater had other ideas. Unexpectedly, a blast of icy water struck my back. The frigid blow catapulted me out of the shower, where I stood naked, freezing, and without a bath towel — Damn! My only option was a small hand towel hanging by the sink. Quickly, I grabbed a larger one from out of the hall linen closet and bolted into my room. After a proper “dry-off”, I grabbed a grubby old pair of jeans and threw on the rest of my clothes. To my surprise, I still wasn’t as “awake” as I needed to be. Maybe some coffee would help? I desperately needed a pick-me-up — a warm one this time.
Everyone was still asleep, so I tiptoed down the stairs and headed for the kitchen to fix some coffee. While it brewed, I ran out to the front porch and grabbed the Saturday morning paper. I returned to the kitchen and slid out a chair as I scanned the front page.
They should’ve changed the Bluefield Daily Telegraph to the Lazarus Times. Every article had SOMETHING to do with Xcavare. It talked about their intent to purchase the mine, as well as their strategies for revitalizing our town. I realized it was “big news” around these parts, but it was also an irritating reminder of what had happened, like a nagging thorn in my side. I didn’t want to think about “him” or the “incident” for a second longer — and I certainly didn’t want to read about him. After all, it hadn’t happened again. Maybe it was just a fluke?
I sprang out of my chair as soon as I heard the soft “beep” that ended the brewing cycle. I wasn’t a major coffee-addict like my parents. I only drank it occasionally, but for some reason — this particular morning — the smell was extremely arousing. Mug in hand, I snatched some creamer from the fridge, poured a cup, dumped in a spoonful of sugar, and headed back to my room to finish getting ready.
Once my hair had dried, I grabbed my trusty brown hair-band and secured my ponytail. I’d felt a little chill in the air when I had stepped outside to get the paper, so I reached for my thicker jacket wedged in the back of my closet. With my sneakers now on and purse over my shoulder, I dashed back down to the kitchen for a quick second-cup.
To my astonishment, Daddy was already up — cooking. As soon as he spotted the college sweatshirt I’d chosen to wear, he chuckled, “I see someone’s lookin’ for trouble. We still play ’em in basketball, ya know.”
“What are you doing up this early?” I asked.
“What does it look like?” Daddy posed and tilted his head towards the floury mess on the counter. He was making breakfast, blueberry pancakes in fact. Daddy’s cooking skills weren’t extensive, but he made the best pancakes.
“You know what I mean. Why aren’t you still in bed?” I questioned.
“Oh…I roused a bit when I smelled the coffee brewin’. That’s better than an alarm clock,” he joked. “I knew you had a late night and were gettin’ ready to head over to Bea’s, so I thought I’d make you some breakfast before you left.”
“How thoughtful,” I replied as I pulled him closer to give him a kiss on the cheek. “But why are you already dressed?” He wasn’t in his pajamas. Daddy was wearing a nice pair of chinos and his blue and white striped dress shirt. “Where are you going?” After all, it was Saturday — not Sunday morning.
Daddy finished mixing the batter and folded in the sugar-coated blueberries. “As a matter of fact, I have to run up to Bluefield today. There’s a few things I have to take care of before I go into work tonight.”
“But you always have Saturday off? Why do you have to work tonight?”
That’s crappy, I thought. The first time I’m going to wear a dress in almost eight years, and he won’t even be here to see it. I was disappointed even in spite of the fact that the dress was atrocious.
Daddy let out a frustrated sigh. “Mr. Xcavare had Harper close the mine over the weekend so his guys can inspect it. But I’ve gotta go through a lot of paperwork for Mr. Xcavare. He’ll need all of it first thing Monday morning if they plan on closing the mine’s sale by Friday. Shi, I’m sorry. I’m gonna miss you going to the dance…with Mike,” he grumbled, shaking his head. Daddy looked me square in the eyes. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked seriously. ’Cause I’ll understand if you don’t.”
Daddy wasn’t the problem. Charlotte and Chloe were the ones who wouldn’t be so “understanding”.
“I’m fine with it, Daddy. I don’t blame Chloe for not trusting any of her friends.” That was for sure. I was secretly dying to let her in on what the captain of her cheerleading squad had been doing with her boyfriend. “And anyway, Chloe already picked me up a dress. It would really be a shame to let it go to waste.”
Honestly, what that thing needed was a can of gas and a lit match!
“Did you try on the dress? It fit okay?” Daddy asked as he ladled the batter onto the griddle.
“Oh, um…Not yet.” I paused to contemplate my reason. “I didn’t want to get it dirty before I wear it tonight. As long as it’s a size 8, it’ll be fine. It looked like it would fit.”
Daddy threw me a smile as he flipped the pancakes. I started fiddling around in my purse, so he couldn’t see how unenthused I was about my attire for the evening. A subject change was needed.
“Did you know Ms. Sutherland was retiring?” I inquired.
“I’ve had my suspicions about it. I guess Bea feels her time’s up at the mine, and she’s ready to move on. She’ll definitely be missed around there.” His words sounded very heartfelt and even a little sad.
“It’s not because of Xcavare Enterprises, is it?” I probed.
Daddy let out a little laugh. “You’d have to ask her that, honey. I’m not a mind reader.”
I flashed an uncomfortable grin. I really could’ve done without that comment.
The image of Beatrix Sutherland standing in front of the office window the other day was still haunting my thoughts. I swear it felt like she was watching me. Normally, I would simply pass it off as paranoia, but with everything else that had been going on around here, I found myself doubting her disability more than ever.
“You really don’t know how she lost her eyesight?” I questioned.
“No. I don’t,” Daddy answered as he lifted one of the perfectly browned pancakes off the griddle and placed it on a large platter beside the stove.
“I mean…Can she see at all? Like values of light or something?” I continued.
Daddy poured some more batter onto the griddle and then flashed me a curious look. “I honestly don’t know, Shi. Why are you so fascinated with her blindness all of a sudden?”
I must have sounded a little too inquisitive. “Just curious…That’s all.”
“More like nosey, I think,” Daddy interjected as he playfully swatted my arm with the spatula.
When I reached over to whack him back, I noticed something shining around his neck. I pointed to it straightaway. “What’s that you’re wearing?” I asked.
Daddy quickly adjusted something under his collar. “Oh, it’s nothin’. Just that old silver necklace I use to wear,” he replied casually.
I laughed. “The one with the clear crystal rock on the end of it? The one Mom said made you look like a hippie?”
Slightly amused by Charlotte’s past reference, Daddy grinned as he pulled it out from underneath his shirt. “That’s the one,” he confirmed proudly.
Daddy hadn’t worn it in years. Charlotte and Chloe hated it, though I didn’t think it was that bad. It was just a small, unpol
ished clear crystal with a simple silver chain strung through it. Nothing fancy, kind of rough and masculine.
“What made you want to put that on today?” I asked.
“No reason…Just felt like it,” Daddy answered hastily and returned to flipping the pancakes.
I was a little perplexed by his somewhat evasive answer. No one ever wears something they haven’t put on in years without some kind of reason. What’s the big deal? While I stood there thinking about the odd little necklace and what could’ve prompted him to wear it, I happened to glance at my cell phone lying nearby. I’d left it in here last night and totally forgot to charge it.
GREAT, I griped as I shoved it in my purse. I turned around to look at the clock on the wall. I really didn’t have time for breakfast. It was already 7:40 AM. I’d promised Ms. Sutherland that I would be there at 8:00 sharp, and I hated being late. I threw my purse over my shoulder and swiftly snatched a pancake that Daddy had just flipped, catching it in midair.
“I’m going to have to get that to go,” I said as I took a quick bite and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Love you, Daddy. Have fun running your errands today…and don’t work too hard tonight,” I called back, still munching on my breakfast.
“You BEHAVE tonight,” Daddy ordered with a laugh. “You won’t have any metal Tonka trucks to conk him with. I’m gonna get Samuel to stop by the house as my stand-in…I’M SERIOUS!”
“Sure thing, Daddy,” I hollered as I unfastened the deadbolts. “Oh, tell Samuel not to forget his double-barrel shotgun,” I added with a laugh. “And my complements to the chef. This batch is your best ever!”
As I closed the door, I accidentally started to call back, “Bye” before I quickly corrected myself. Instead, I shouted out a pronounced, “See you later, Daddy.”
That was weird. I almost told Daddy “bye” for some reason. He hates that! Maybe I’m still not awake enough yet? That’s the last time I pull a double-shift at the Drive-In — especially on a game night!
I headed for my car, digging through my purse for my keys as usual. Once I’d found them, I looked up and abruptly stopped dead in my tracks. Sitting on the roof of the old Charger was my gold & brown feathery-friend.
“Where did you come from?” I asked aloud.
The falcon squawked as I crept closer to the driver-side door, but it never moved. Cautiously, I raised my hand towards the magnificent bird. It was hovering inches from my arm, but it still didn’t budge. Slowly, I extended my index finger and watched the bird edge closer. I gingerly stroked the falcon’s wing. It wasn’t going anywhere. It shifted around slightly and squawked a bit, but it didn’t fly off. It seemed to like it.
“I didn’t get to thank you for helping me the other day,” I whispered. “I think you saved my life.”
Normally I would think talking to a wild bird was borderline-bizarre, but it felt natural, kind of like striking up a one-sided conversation with an old faithful dog that a person would’ve had for years. Realistically, it wasn’t any stranger than anything else that had happened over the past couple of days.
An abrupt, loud “bang” blared behind me. This time, the falcon’s feathers were definitely ruffled (mine too). Straightaway, it flew off and squawked repeatedly until it disappeared from my sight. I whirled around to see Charlotte standing on the front porch, dressed in her pink chenille robe and matching fuzzy slippers.
“Be home in plenty of time to get ready for the dance!” Charlotte barked. “I don’t want you keeping Mike waiting…UNDERSTAND?”
“I won’t be late,” I yelled back as I slid into my car and cranked the engine.
What a witch, I grumbled as I plowed out of our drive, leaving a fresh trail of slung gravel and dust in the air.
There wasn’t any traffic to speak of, so I made it to Ms. Sutherland’s house at eight on the dot. I remembered on the drive over that I’d loaned Daddy the cell phone charger I usually kept inside my car. I’ll just have to charge it when I get home…No big deal.
A rented box truck sat in Ms. Sutherland’s driveway, so I parked on the street outside her house. Beatrix Sutherland lived on the “north side” of town. It was a much classier section of Welch, where all the houses appeared impeccably well-kept and their lawns had to be manicured to perfection in accordance with their strict neighborhood covenants. Though her house was one of the smaller ones in the neighborhood, it was undeniably charming. The modest one-story cottage was clad with white siding and black shutters, while a cheery red-painted front door added a tasteful touch of class to its façade. Every window donned ornate metal planters, which were currently filled to their brims with pansies. It reminded me of an oversized dollhouse. The driveway was lined with towering cypress trees, which by their appearance were in need of a good pruning. Their branches looked straggly and hung over the driveway in a chaotic manner. In fact, they covered the entire right side of the box truck parked in her drive.
No wonder it’s backed in, I thought. Mr. Mayfield would’ve had to climb a daggone tree just to get out of the cab.
I followed the curved cobblestone walkway that led to her front door. I pushed the doorbell once. As I stood there fixated on the peephole, I started thinking, What if Ms. Sutherland really can see? How can I find out? Why would she hide it? My suspicions were bordering on obsession. I’d had enough of unresolved strange occurrences. Every one of them had prompted extraordinary questions, but what I craved were ordinary answers. I’m going to get them today…one way or another.”
I started to press the buzzer again when the front door flew open.
“Oh, Shiloh. You’re here,” Beatrix Sutherland remarked, before I could say anything. “Come on in, dear.”
I found her greeting amusing. “How on earth did you know it was me?” I asked skeptically as I walked past her.
“I told you, dear…Freesias. My eyes may not work, but my nose still does,” she laughed.
In a dubious manner, I took a quick sniff of my shirt. I still don’t smell anything. I’m not buying her answer for a second.
“Plus, you said that you’d be here at eight sharp, and since there’s only one other person who would be here around that same time…I had a 50/50 shot.”
Well, at least that one holds a little more water. She’s pretty slick…I’ll give her that.
If I were going to get any answers, my best chance would be to bombard her with tricky questions. Surely even the most cunning adversary would slip up — eventually. A sly smile stretched across my face while my eyes crafted a hard-core look of determination.
Ms. Sutherland escorted me into her living room. It was like any other you would walk into — fully furnished with a large sofa, several cushy chairs, and strategically placed tables. It was decorated to perfection too, with everything coordinating nicely — well past the threshold of “anal”.
“This is really beautiful, Ms. Sutherland,” I commented. “Did you decorate this yourself?”
Beatrix Sutherland let out a sharp laugh. “Oh goodness no, dear. Monique Culbert, the lady who has the tailoring shop downtown…Well, she’s a good friend of mine. Monique helped me with the decorating. She picked out all the furniture and sewed my draperies for me. I’d hate to think what this place would look like if I had made all the selections…by myself.”
My eyes squinted. Maybe, I pondered, but something inside me still didn’t believe her.
Suddenly a melodic chime rolled through the house. “Excuse me, Shiloh. That’s probably the little fellow from Helping Hands,” Ms. Sutherland revealed as she hurried off to answer the door.
I heard a familiar voice entering the house. A few seconds later, Ty Smith came strolling into the room, taking off his varsity jacket. He had that, I-just-fell-out-of-bed, but-I’m-still-hot-as-Hell look going on. His tired, droopy eyes lit up with surprise when he saw me.
“Oh, Shiloh, you probably already know Tyler. Aren’t you both in the same grade?” she asked.
We both smiled and answered, “Yes,” in u
nison.
“He’s been my assigned helper for the past couple of years. He’s a godsend,” Ms. Sutherland beamed as she felt for his hand and gave it a tight, affectionate squeeze.
“Yeah, this is my girl right here,” Ty declared as he tenderly placed his arm around Ms. Sutherland and gave her a cuddly hug. “I’m going to miss her when she leaves. I’ll have to find someone else to let me cut their grass and clean out their gutters,” he teased and then gave her a peck on the cheek.
That’s so sweet. Could he be anymore perfect?
I stood there smiling at them. I didn’t realize that it was Ty who would be here helping with the packing today. I hadn’t really seen him since he spied me avoiding Professor Grey in Geology class yesterday, nor spoken to him since our chat in the cafeteria on Thursday. His comments were still floating around in the back of my mind, as well as the way he was staring at me in Ms. Fitz’s class.
“Here, Shi…I’ll take your coat back to the kitchen and hang it up for you,” Ty insisted. I peeled off my jacket and handed it to him with an appreciative smile.
Good manners, too…Yeah, totally perfect, I thought as my eyes followed him out of the room, mentally noting that he looked just as fine “going” as he did “coming”.
Beatrix Sutherland cleared her throat in a slightly suggestive manner. I jumped slightly and whipped my head around. I’d let my suspicions about the sweet little old blind lady slip my mind for a moment, but seeing her standing there — with a grin on her face — begged the question of whether or not she caught me checking out Ty’s ass. My eyes narrowed instinctively.
Oh yeah…It’s definitely on!
“You two can get started in the living room. All I really need is a place to sit for the next week, so everything else can be packed up,” Ms. Sutherland instructed. “Tyler…Did you bring the packing paper and boxes?”
“Sure did, and I have miles of tape,” Ty announced as he returned to the living room.
I looked closely around the room. I found it sort of odd that there were little trinkets everywhere. Figurines and ceramic collectables were scattered all around the space. Most of them were little porcelain birds. There were all different kinds. Some sat perched on branches while others were fashioned to ornate porcelain flowers. Why would she have so many of these? She wouldn’t be able to see them, and they’d be a pain in the butt to dust.
