by S. E. Akers
“I’m fine.” I planned on staying here as long as it took. She wasn’t getting rid of me that easy. “Oh, but Ty already left. He had to go pick up his tuxedo for the dance tonight. I’m sure he would have told you ‘bye’, if he hadn’t been running late.”
“He’s such a nice boy. Well, I suppose you can’t call a high school senior a boy, now can you?” Ms. Sutherland took a sip of her steamy cup of cider. “So…the Homecoming Dance is tonight. Are you still going with that Mike Riverside?”
“How did you know about that?” I asked uneasily. Does the whole freaking town know?
“Your father mentioned the favor you were doing for your sister to me yesterday. Sweet, selfless Shiloh…Always trying to keep the peace,” Ms. Sutherland stated with a smile as she shook her head. “Your name ‘Shiloh’ means ‘peace’. Were you aware of that?”
“No…I just thought I was named after that creepy old ridge behind our house,” I huffed.
“Why do you think that ridge is creepy?” she inquired. “That’s one of my favorite places to go on my nature walks. You can hear so many different kinds of birds up there. A peaceful place and a beautiful name, for an equally beautiful girl…both inside and out,” her voice echoed through the kitchen.
I noted quietly, If you had been attacked by the fiendish, black haze that lurks up there, I’m sure you’d be singin’ a different tune. I sat there listening to her words, but no matter how many times they lingered in my head, that “Y” I changed in my name wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon!
“What else needs to be packed?” I asked as I jumped up and grabbed a box from the countertop, clearly to avoid answering her question.
“Just a few drawers. I’ve got a bunch of random things in them like tools, batteries…well, junk really. They’re the ones closest to the door.”
I walked over and pulled open the first drawer. She was right, nothing but a hodgepodge of miscellaneous items.
“Do you want me to separate each drawer, or put both of them into one box?” I questioned.
“Separate them please,” Ms. Sutherland replied as she washed her hands and then began preparing two more cups of apple cider.
I dumped all the items into the first box. Once it had been sealed and marked, I started on the last one. I pulled open the remaining drawer to find a small black and red flashlight lying on top. I glanced over at Ms. Sutherland, who had just finished pouring our drinks.
Now I’ve got her, I thought as I swiftly tucked the flashlight into the front pocket of my jeans and whipped my sweatshirt over the top of it. I dumped the rest of the drawer’s contents into the box, taped it up, and marked it, “Kitchen - Miscellaneous #2”.
“All done,” I announced as I prowled back to the table and sat down.
In a stealthy fashion, I removed the flashlight from my pocket and hid it under the table. I coughed slightly, to conceal the sound of me clicking it on. As I watched her sip on her cider, I thought, There’s no way she can talk her way out of this one. If her eyes dilate one little bit, her goose is cooked!
I waited until she lifted the hot cup of cider up to her mouth for a drink. That way her “keen senses” wouldn’t feel any traces of heat coming from the light (precautionary measure, if it turned out she was being truthful). She would simply feel the warmth coming from the hot cider hovering in front of her. As soon as she lifted the strawberry adorned mug towards her, I quickly raised my arm and shined the flashlight directly into her left eye. I waited for a few seconds, but it remained unresponsive and fixed.
Nothing, I quietly noted. Disgusted and disappointed, I moved to her right eye. Just like her left, it stayed completely motionless.
Damn…I was so sure. I lowered my head in defeat, conceding that my theory had failed on so many levels. Well, at least she couldn’t “see me”. Ironically, as I sat there feeling like crap, Ms. Sutherland looked like she was about to burst with joy.
“Shiloh, now I know you told me that I couldn’t pay you, but I want to give you something…for your birthday,” she announced.
I looked over at the trusting little old lady who seemed so excited about giving me a present. Would she still feel the same way if she knew what I’d really been up to today?
“You didn’t have to buy me anything, Ms. Sutherland. I wanted to help you.”
Now I really feel like shit!
“I know that, dear. That’s why I want to give you something of mine. I didn’t buy you anything. This is something I’ve had for ages, and now it’s time to be passed on…to you.”
Ms. Sutherland’s request seemed so sincere, and she spoke with such grave conviction that I felt even worse at the thought of denying her plea. “All right,” I consented.
“Excellent! Now, close your eyes, dear,” she softly commanded.
I closed my eyes and waited patiently in the silence of the room. However, as composed as I may have seemed, my thoughts still dwelled on my actions from earlier and how undeserving I felt to receive any gift, especially one from sweet ’ole Bea.
I’d heard a soft tap, and the next thing I knew, Ms. Sutherland was guiding my hands towards the center of the table. They landed on something small and firm.
“Open them up…if you haven’t already,” Ms. Sutherland added with a giggle.
A small box in the shape of an octagon lay under my hands. It appeared to be very old, nothing like you would find nowadays, and crafted from a heavily-veined wood. Delicate scrollwork filled the sides and covered its top. Apparently, it was some sort of little trinket box. I ran my fingers along its edges and smiled. Maybe this was something she treasured as a little girl?
“It’s lovely, Ms. Sutherland. Thank you. I’ve never seen a box with this much detail before,” I raved.
Ms. Sutherland laughed. “The box is rather nice…but you have to open it to see the real gift.”
I gazed curiously at the tiny box, which didn’t have any visible creases to indicate where or how it opened.
“You’ll figure out my little puzzle box, dear. I have faith in you,” Ms. Sutherland divulged as she sat back and took another sip of her cider.
I analyzed the box meticulously for the next few seconds. Since this was a puzzle box, the opening wouldn’t necessarily be in the center or even close to its top. I ran my fingers along the bottom of the small container. As the tips of my fingers pressed against it, the base began to give a little. I gave the bottom a firm push and then a small “pop” rang out.
“I knew you could do it!” Ms. Sutherland exclaimed proudly.
I lifted off its top and gasped straightaway. Fastened to the wooden base and resting on a pillow of velvet was none other than the little golden topaz ring that once resided on Ms. Sutherland’s finger — the same one I’d adored as child and still loved. I was beyond surprised.
“Ms. Sutherland, I can’t accept this. It’s way too expensive, and I know you love this ring. I’m so flattered, but you shouldn’t do this,” I urged emphatically.
“Pish-posh! I’m giving it to you, and you’ll accept it. I won’t take no for an answer. How can you refuse a birthday gift from an old woman like that?” Ms. Sutherland was taking a hard stance on the issue.
“But, it’s…your ring, Ms. Sutherland,” I pleaded as I glanced over at her bare ring finger.
She displayed both of her hands in front of me and wiggled her fingers. “I have plenty of rings to go around. I won’t miss it, and I want you to have it, Shiloh.”
I took a hold of her hands and stared at her other nine fingers that were smothered in ornate rings. Some were just bands of various metals, while others displayed a variety of gemstones. One in particular caught my eye. It wasn’t really a “pretty” ring, per se, hardly as dazzling as her others. It looked like a small cluster of greenish-gray rocks, fastened together like a strand of pearls, and the stones had a small pattern of irregular circles on them. Suddenly, I caught an odd scent coming from that particular ring. It smelled putrid, like charred flesh of som
e sort. I pondered, What could cause a ring to smell like that?
Ms. Sutherland pulled her hands back hastily and placed them under the table. She seemed a bit embarrassed or perhaps, startled. Maybe those “keen senses” kicked in, and she smelled the foul odor herself?
“I don’t know…Wouldn’t you rather give it to a family member or something?” I questioned as I fiddled with my oval locket.
Ms. Sutherland appeared to have a twinkle in her aimless eyes. “I don’t have any children, and I haven’t seen any of my sisters in years. I’ve always thought of you as part of my family, ever since you were a little girl. I know you haven’t come around here as much as you used to, but my feelings for you haven’t changed, Shiloh.” Beatrix’s words were deeply touching and profound. She could sense me starting to cave. “Please, Shiloh…for me? I’m getting older, and I won’t be around forever. I want to know that it’s with someone who will treasure it as much as I have.”
That did it…“Guilted” again. Though I was secretly thrilled at the idea of receiving my first “real” ring (my class ring didn’t count), I felt a bit solemn knowing she was giving up something she cherished.
“Of course I’ll accept it, Ms. Sutherland.” I leaned over and gave her a long, affectionate hug, which she warmly reciprocated. I mentally noted, For a little old blind lady, she sure does have strong embrace.
“Splendid! Let’s get it on that finger. Shall we?” Ms. Sutherland felt around for the base that held the dainty golden topaz ring and unfastened it with swift precision. I extended my right hand to her. She held it in hers and responded promptly, “Oh no. Give me your other hand. You should only wear it on your left one.”
“Okay,” I replied indifferently, as I slipped off my Welch High School class ring and transferred it to the ring finger on my opposite hand.
I thought the only “ring wearing rules” applied to engagement rings and wedding bands…Go figure?
I held out my left hand. Ms. Sutherland quickly located the intended finger and guided the ring on gently without delay. The round gemstone wasn’t placed in a traditional setting. It was only secured on its sides by a narrow gold band. Once in place, I felt a surge of euphoria throughout my body, almost like I was glowing, both inside and out. I stared at the golden topaz, awestruck by its splendor. Who knew a piece of jewelry could make you feel this way?
She took a deep breath and began to speak earnestly. “May this topaz fill you with peace…Its hue unfailingly protect and conceal you from peril…And its brilliance illuminate you in your darkest of hours.”
Ms. Sutherland’s words sounded extremely peculiar. I was left nothing less than wide-eyed and speechless by her ceremonious, and not to mention, bizarre manner of bestowing the ring.
Considering the events of the past few days, maybe there is someone crazier than me in town after all?
Ms. Sutherland was very observant to the stillness of the room. “…and Happy Birthday!” she belted out in a zippy fashion as she placed my hands back down on the table.
“Um…Thanks, Ms. Sutherland,” I replied awkwardly. Even I had to admit that the “thank you” I’d just given her didn’t sound very appreciative. “I’ll never take it off. Just like my locket,” I added with a smile.
Ms. Sutherland’s eyes narrowed. “Really? That’s nice, dear, but I’m curious…Have you ever wanted to take off your locket?”
What a strange question? “No. Not really. It was a gift, from Char— um, my mother.”
“How do you clean it?” Ms. Sutherland probed.
I started to wonder if she was rethinking her gift. “Oh, I always scrub it off when I’m in the shower, and I’ll be sure to clean this everyday too,” I insisted. “I think Char— (I caught myself) — Mom, has a jar of jewelry cleaner on her dresser.”
“There’s no need to use that harsh stuff. Cleanse it in some salt water every night. Sea-salt is actually the best kind to use,” she instructed.
“All right. Sea-salt it is,” I agreed firmly.
“Also, it wouldn’t hurt to let it catch a few moonbeams once a month, when the moon is full…just for good measure,” she added in a serious tone.
“Oookay,” I agreed uncertainly.
“Well, it sounds like my little baby has found a perfect new home,” Ms. Sutherland proclaimed with a face that shined brighter than any of the gems on her fingers.
I looked over at the strawberry-shaped clock above the refrigerator. It was almost 3 o’clock, so I really had to go.
“Ms. Sutherland, I need to be heading home now. You know, ‘the favor’ I’ve got to do this evening,” I remarked, my voice laden with disgust.
“My, the day has gotten away from us, hasn’t it?” Ms. Sutherland replied as she whisked a few strands of her slivery hair away from her face. “Thank you, Shiloh. You were such a big help today.”
I smiled as I grabbed my jacket. “It was my pleasure, and I’m sure Ty’s, too.” I was just glad she didn’t know about the ulterior motive I’d had for coming by today. Despite all of my failed attempts, my gut still churned with doubt. But what business is it of mine anyway? I swiftly gave her a big hug, followed by a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you for my gift. I really love it.”
“You’re welcome, dear,” Ms. Sutherland replied as she gave my back a couple of affectionate pats. “Oh, I almost forgot, and this is extremely important…for the ring’s maintenance,” she added.
I focused intently on her face as she continued to speak. “Always make sure the stone touches your skin,” she insisted. “It needs to—”
I interrupted her, “Make a connection?”
“Yes! Yes, dear,” Ms. Sutherland beamed. She couldn’t have had a prouder look on her face even if she’d just identified every wild bird in the state of West Virginia by its song in under a minute.
“So I’ve heard,” I added with a grin as I thought about how loony it had sounded coming out of Professor Tanner Grey’s mouth yesterday.
I started to exit through the backdoor when the frightening image of that rattlesnake popped into my head. I paused and spun around.
“I think I’ll go out the front…just in case.”
“You do that, dear. Try to have a little fun at the dance, but be mindful. I know your date leaves little to be desired, but I have a feeling tonight will be a…momentous one.” Beatrix Sutherland’s grin widened as she sat back in her chair and finished off her cup of cider.
“I’ll try,” I called back as I stepped out of the kitchen and traveled down the hall. It’ll be momentous all right — if Mike Riverside doesn’t end up in a body-bag by the end of the evening, I affirmed quietly as I opened the front door.
Once outside, I spotted Avery Mayfield being dropped off by his wife, Marsha. I threw my hand up and waved as she pulled off down the road.
“Hey there, Shiloh. Did y’all get a lot done today?” Mr. Mayfield asked as he pulled up his trousers and tucked his plaid shirt in his pants.
“We did. Everything she wanted boxed up is in there,” I replied as I guided him over to the rear of the bright yellow box truck. He inspected its interior and turned to give me a “thumbs up”.
“Well, I’m off. Nice to see you, Mr. Mayfield,” I called out as I headed to my car.
“Um, Shiloh…Please say ‘hello’ to your mom for me,” he hollered out eagerly.
I stopped and spun around. “Excuse me?” I snapped.
Maybe all of my suspicions about “someone-trying-to-be-deceptive” have been focused on the “wrong person” today.
“What do you mean, Mr. Mayfield?” I quizzed.
Avery Mayfield looked flustered and guilt-ridden by the way he was standing there nervously shifting his weight back and forth. “Nothin’ much…Just a little, ‘hi’. I haven’t seen her since I, um…snaked her pipes a couple of months ago.”
My eyes blazed a hole straight through him. Yeah. I bet you snaked somethin’… The image of Daddy finding out that Mom had been cheating on
him infuriated me. Not to mention poor Mrs. Marsha Mayfield. I guess ‘ole Charlotte’s talents aren’t just limited to being a bitch to me…Apparently, she’s the town whore, too!
Mr. Mayfield was having a hard time looking me in the eyes. He lowered his head and started scanning around randomly. He became fixated with something in the grass and jumped back.
“Speakin’ of snakes…Would you look at that thing over there!” He hurried over to the gruesome carcass lying in the yard. He inspected it for a second and then gave its body a nudge with his foot.
“It’s dead,” I assured him in a frosty tone.
Mr. Mayfield appeared amazed. “That’s a big one! Who killed it?” he asked, puzzled.
“Ask Ms. Sutherland,” I snapped. I didn’t want to waste my time giving him a detailed account of how “blind old Beatrix Sutherland” saved me and killed the giant rattlesnake — all by herself.
“Dang!” Mr. Mayfield exclaimed as he shook his head and hurried towards the house to find Ms. Sutherland.
My eyes followed him, reeling with rage. I looked up at the sky and clinched my fists. How could she do this to Daddy?
I walked over to the rattlesnake and knelt down to get a better look at my freakish assailant. Its head was enormous, and its face still looked menacing. My whole body shook as I thought about its sharp, venomous fangs piercing my neck.
I noticed something unusual below its head, where its long scaly body started. The snake’s scales looked discolored in one small, but noticeable spot. Its skin was charred in some sort of tiny round pattern. My nose caught a familiar, foul stench. It was the same one I’d smelled lingering around Ms. Sutherland’s hands, coming from that strange ring. As I closely observed the peculiar burn markings on the rattlesnake’s scales, I realized they bared a striking resemblance to its shape — the same stone ring that was banded together like a string of pearls and smelled awful.
Interesting… Very interesting, I acknowledged.
I rose from the ground to the sight of Ms. Sutherland and Mr. Mayfield coming outside. I hurried over to my car and hopped in for a speedy getaway. I didn’t want to talk to or even look at Mr. Mayfield, and I certainly didn’t want to start interrogating Ms. Sutherland again. Not after she’d given me such a generous gift and probably saved my life as well.
