by S. E. Akers
“I mean it, Shiloh,” Tanner Grey warned as he hovered in front of me. “Stay away from Lazarus.”
I glared at him, pausing to note that the heat radiating from his eyes matched my own, and then pushed past him to exit the cave. Once I was well out of his “influential” presence, all of my anguish and despair swiftly returned. Thunder was still rolling through the skies above me, and it hadn’t stopped pouring rain. Defiantly, I headed back down the mountainside and never glanced back. I didn’t feel like going home — not yet. There were too many memories that were sure to haunt me. I knew I would have to deal with them eventually, but I wanted to delay my misery for as long as I possibly could. My body was numb, but I could feel a dull and dismal ache churning inside me, welling in the pit of my stomach like a sickness that had no cure. An inconsolable heartache tortured me now. There were no predators stalking me, or any excruciating injuries ravaging my body, just wretched emptiness where my heart used to be.
Before long, I’d reached the tree line and heard the roar of several cars whizzing by as I emerged from the tall pines. I decided to wander over to the mine for a while, instead of heading home to my “loved ones”.
What a crock!
Daddy’s truck was gone. Mr. Sheppard had towed it to our house, I presumed. To my surprise, someone had thoughtfully placed a large wreath on the entrance gate. Beautiful white lilies flowed around a circle of greenery and framed a simple gold cross that hung from its center. My eyes began to tear up at the sight of the sympathetic gesture. I noticed that several miners had just finished up changing the letters on the outdoor sign that usually announced their union meetings. It now read:
OUR BROTHER, CAIDEN
YOU WERE DEARLY LOVED
YOU WILL BE DEEPLY MISSED
The compassionate act of the “brothers” from his local union forced even more tears to surface. I stood there transfixed on the heartfelt message. I was in such a daze that I didn’t realize someone was behind me until a hand landed on my shoulder, gently. I turned to see Samuel standing by my side. No sooner than he’d opened his arms, I fell into his soothing embrace.
“Let it out, honey. You’ve had a great loss…We both have. He was like my brother, Shiloh.”
My tears continued to fall. “I loved him so much, Samuel. I feel abandoned…like I don’t have a father,” I sniffled.
“You still do, Shiloh. He’s just in a much better place now. But you still have me. You’ve always been like a daughter to me. I know I can’t replace him, but you can count on me for anything, just the same. I know he would have wanted that.”
I wiped my eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Samuel,” I said appreciatively as I hugged him.
“Now,” Samuel grinned as he stepped back and lifted up my chin, “Let’s get you home and out of this rain…You’re drenched.”
I couldn’t argue with him on that point, but I really didn’t want him to take me home.
“Do we have to go there?” I pleaded as he opened the passenger-side door and motioned me inside.
“Yes…But don’t worry about earlier,” I heard him say as I climbed into the Jeep. “Turns out Chief Roberts and Officer Ryan aren’t pressing any charges against you. I guess they want to keep the fact they had their butts whipped by an eighteen year-old girl ‘under wraps’. I suppose that was little more than their fragile egos could handle.” Samuel winked at me as he jumped into the Jeep. “Congratulations…You’re not a fugitive after all.”
“Yay for me,” I replied half-heartedly as Samuel cranked up his old Jeep.
“So, Shiloh…What was that this morning?” Samuel asked with obvious concern and a searing hint of curiosity.
Undoubtedly, I was going to have to do some heavy explaining to all the parties who were present this morning. Well, maybe not to the officers. I doubt they’ll want to bring it up ever again. An off-the-cuff theory came to mind.
“A freak rush of adrenaline?” I replied. Samuel rolled his eyes and shot me a look of disbelief as we wound up the mountain.
“Try another one,” my surrogate father swiftly cracked back.
Fooling Samuel wasn’t going to be easy. A little “creativity” was in order.
“I don’t know, Samuel. It had to be some kind of hormone surge…Come to think of it, I’m about ready to start my—”
Hastily, Samuel interrupted me with a, “Okay, okay — I got it.” I noticed he seemed a bit flustered. I turned my head towards the side window to hide my grin. I didn’t know if he’d truly bought it, but he sure didn’t bring it up again.
We were home in a flash, regrettably. We sat in silence for a moment. The only sounds were from the raindrops hitting the windshield like a repetitive song.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Samuel asked.
“No,” I declined politely as I directed a blank stare towards my father’s truck. “I’ll be fine.” Samuel could plainly see my emotions weren’t coinciding with my words.
“Shiloh, I’m here for you…whenever you need to talk about anything…Anything at all.” He smiled and lifted my chin. “No matter how crazy.”
I had to force a smile. “I know, but I don’t feel like talking right now…not to anyone…about anything.”
That was partly true. I didn’t want to talk about my father’s death. The wound was still fresh and my emotions were too raw. I didn’t want to be filled with constant reminders, like that I would never catch him downstairs in the morning making blueberry pancakes, or I would never be woken up to the sound of him sawing wood in his workshop during the middle of the night. However with everything I’d uncovered today, I was bursting at the seams to tell someone about my discoveries, but I knew I shouldn’t, or rather couldn’t. Samuel was very lax the other day when I’d told him that I could hear Lazarus Xcavare’s thoughts, but I didn’t think he would be as carefree with his rationale when it came to the subject of Talismans and supernatural creatures.
Samuel nodded. “I understand…Call me if you need anything.” He paused to look at the house and then turned his worried gaze back to me. “Even if it’s a place to stay for a spell,” he added with a serious nod, fully aware of how horrible Charlotte and Chloe could be.
“Oh, I’ll definitely call you if I need that.” I gave Samuel a hug, grabbed Ty’s tuxedo jacket, and hopped out of his Jeep. Still not caring one iota about the rain, I wandered listlessly towards the front porch and waved to him as he drove off.
I turned the antique-white ceramic knob on the front door. It’s locked. I shook my head as I stared up at the porch ceiling. Well, you did run off without your keys, idiot. I took my foot and flipped up the doormat. No spare under there. After one hellacious deep breath, I rang the doorbell.
I pressed it several times. When no one answered, I began to pound on the door.
Eventually, I heard someone sashaying into the foyer, and a shadow fell over the peephole straightaway.
“Yes. WHO is it?” Chloe called out snidely.
“Not funny, Chloe. I don’t have time for this. Open the door,” I demanded in a cross tone.
“I’m sorry,” my little sister apologized with a laugh. “I’m not sure if I can let you in. The last time you were here, you acted like a roughneck brawling in a bar. Mom made me clean up the mess that you made ALL BY MYSELF, so she could go make the funeral arrangements and stop by the hospital to see about her hand THAT YOU BROKE!”
I ignored her wisecracks and pounded even louder on the door.
“Let me in!” I yelled.
“Daddy’s service is tomorrow morning. Hey — Katie did such a good job getting you ready for the dance…Let’s see how she does making someone over for a funeral,” Chloe snickered.
I could see she was dead-set on tormenting me, so there was only one thing left for me to do. I walked over to the front living room window, laid Ty’s jacket on a chair, and picked up a wrought iron plant stand that was sitting on the porch. Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion overcame me, causing me to stagger ba
ckward.
“I’ll tell you what,” Chloe called out, “If you managed to pick up some manners while you were out, I’ll let you in. How’s that sound?”
I could hear her laughter intensifying. I didn’t have time for her little games, especially now. Not only had she pissed me off, but I felt weak and strangely queasy.
Okay, if that’s how she wants to play. I removed the plant and swung the sturdy wrought iron stand against the fragile windowpane. Glass came crashing into the living room. As soon as I’d tossed the plant stand down on the porch, that “sick feeling” started to subside. Mentally, I deduced it was stress — “Chloe-stress” — that had been the culprit. Then I picked up Ty’s jacket and hopped through the broken window effortlessly, making sure I cleared any large shards.
I looked over at Chloe, who was standing in the doorway with her mouth gaped open. I pointed to the fragments of glass that now littered the floor of living room.
“Oh, you missed a spot,” I simpered snidely as I threw the jacket over my shoulder and strode past her.
“I’m NOT cleaning that up!” Chloe raged.
I smiled and kept trotting up the stairs. “I wasn’t the one Mom told to ‘clean up the glass in the living room’!” I called down to her and gave my bedroom door an extra-hard slam.
I threw myself against the door and slid down to the floor. My closet door was open, and I stared at the Lavish garment bag still hanging on the hook. My bottom lip began to quiver, so I clenched my lips together and took a deep, calming breath.
Everything reminds me of him.
Even though I didn’t feel like talking, I needed some sort of connection to the outside world, especially if I was going to hold up in here for a while. I felt so low I figured, Why even get up, so I crawled over to my nightstand where I’d plugged in my cell phone.
I looked at the screen. Full charge, I noted.
Missed Calls: 1
Voicemails: 1
Missed Texts: 38
Most of the texts were from Katie and a few from some of my classmates at school, telling me how sorry they were to hear about Daddy…There was one from Charlie, instructing me not to even think about coming in to work next week…And two from Ty. The first one was from late last night. It simply said, “I’m waiting.” The last one was just as straightforward. “I’m so sorry, Shi…CALL ME.”
I couldn’t deal with returning his text right now, let alone talking to him. What reason would I give him for not calling him back last night? Mike was possessed, and he attacked me? Last night’s little scuffle between them in the parking lot would seem like a tickle-fight compared to what would probably come from that disclosure.
Listlessly, I pressed the button to listen to the voicemail as I picked myself up off the floor and crawled into bed. As soon as I heard the voice on the phone, I gasped. My eyes began to flood with tears as I listened to the message.
Hey, Shiloh…I wanted to wish you
an early Happy Birthday
I hope Bea didn’t work you too hard today…
Look in your closet before
you head out to the dance…
There’s a little somethin’ in there for you…
But don’t worry, you’ll still get
your cake in the mornin’.
I love you, Shiloh…
I’ve loved you from the first
moment I held you in my arms,
almost eighteen years ago.
Like I told ya, I knew you were special,
and I know one day, you’ll finally see
just how special you truly are.
You were brought into this world for a reason…
Not just to make your old man proud of you…
Good-bye, Shi
Hearing my father say the taboo word he would never utter when we parted was haunting. He was right. “Good-bye” sounded truly irrevocable — so final — especially now. I threw my head against the pillow and curled my body under the sheets. His message spoke to me almost like he knew what was headed my way.
How did he know I’m supposedly “special”? I quickly dismissed the implication from my head. Of course, every father tends to think “his daughter” is “special”…but could he have known his end was near? That was the one question I pondered all afternoon and well into the evening.
I cried myself to sleep, heartbroken but still thankful for my “accidental” birthday present — Daddy’s message. His voice saved forever for only me to hear.
Chapter 14 — My Tears Fell Like Rain
After a long night of tossing and turning, I found myself wide-awake fairly early. I rolled over to check the time. 4:59 AM. The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour. I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Aside from the crying and sad reflections, the thing that baited my thoughts the most and forced my mind to race wildly was the question I kept repeating over and over — WHY?
Why did Daddy have to die? He’d been murdered, but why? Why can’t anyone else see that? I’d finally gotten a few answers to some of my questions. However the answers, as irrational as what they were, led to even more speculation. Why did I stumble upon that diamond wand? Why the heck was that thing buried in, of all places, my backyard? A Talisman? WHY ME?
My father’s funeral was in just a matter of hours. What shred of peace my isolation had provided would eventually come to an end then. I would rather sneak off to the funeral home to say my farewells to Daddy alone than be surrounded by people constantly telling me “what a great person he was” and that “he’ll be missed”. I already knew that. An “in-your-face reminder” wouldn’t serve any sort of purpose. It would just feel like salt being ground into a fresh, deep wound, and its sting would be nothing less than grueling. I gazed at my little golden topaz. Why couldn’t you make me “invisible” today?
I lay in my bed for a few more minutes, staring at the ceiling without purpose or reason. Whether I’m in here or out there, all of my problems will still shadow me. Might as well get up while everyone else is still asleep. I threw back the covers and planted my feet firmly on the floor. There was no need to get dressed. I still had on my clothes from yesterday.
I pulled open my lavender bedroom door and listened. I found the stillness of the dark, lifeless house very soothing. Despite the fact that I’d spent most of yesterday locked in my room, I needed the solitude my emotions craved. My sanity depended upon it. I crept out of my bedroom, making sure not to rouse Chloe, and tiptoed down the hall.
I arrived downstairs to the soft pitter-pat of raindrops hitting the roof of the front porch. I rubbed my eyes and peered out the broken living room window. Still raining. My eyes were swollen from the countless number of tears that had fallen. I’d never cried that hard, for so long in my life. The emptiness of the house overwhelmed me, and I felt more of them about to surface. I took a deep breath to hold them back, but it was pointless. They were like the drops of rain. Nothing could stop their imminent fall until the ugly veil of darkness had lifted. I couldn’t foresee my heartache being eased anytime soon.
I wish tears were like raindrops…All I would need is the sun to come out and wash away all of my sadness.
I wandered over to the fireplace, still plagued by the image of Daddy suffering. I could see everything with such clarity and felt every twinge of his pain. My anger escalated as I thought of all the random visions I’d had on the night of his death. In spite of my induced clairvoyant state, I couldn’t see who had killed him. By WHOSE hands did my father fall victim to?
I ran my hand along the grain of our oak mantle and stopped at the spot where Daddy’s Christmas stocking would hang, year after year. Then I turned towards the corner of the room where our Christmas tree would stand. I could picture Daddy setting it in place like it was yesterday. Picking out our annual Christmas tree was always one of our special outings. Charlotte and Chloe would stay home while Daddy and I drove over to Beckley to select one from Mr. Bennett’s tree farm. Although the drive there and back took abou
t three hours, we would make a day of it. Charlotte didn’t have a clue that we would sneak off to watch an afternoon matinee and pick out a tree later, after the movie. Daddy always followed up our yearly tradition with a stop by Lynn’s Diner for two steaming cups of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and extra mini-marshmallows. My mother always looked madder than a hornet when we returned. She never understood why it took us so long to pick out a ‘simple’ Christmas tree. Like clockwork, Chloe would be whining for Daddy to hurry up with the lights, so he could lift her up to place the star on top. Chloe never let me touch it. She claimed it was a job for “fairy princesses” only. I’d let her have her way, without any fuss, while I thought about our secret outing where “fairy princesses” weren’t allowed. That helped take away some of the sting.
I found the reflection surreal. There would be no more moments like that. Last year’s Christmas with my father was now to be known as my last.
A loud rumble rose from my stomach. My appetite was nonexistent, but considering I hadn’t eaten anything yesterday, I figured it would probably be wise to throw at least a piece of toast inside my tummy.
As I crept towards the rear of the house, something in the dining room caught my eye. I paused for a moment. Apparently some folks had stopped by yesterday to pay their respects. Our long, cherry dining table was littered with numerous cake containers and fancy gift baskets. One in particular caught my eye. It was a large cornucopia, with various fruits cascading out of it. It was very cheery and festive, but lying on the dining room table the way it was, forced another disturbing image to emerge. Solemnly, I stared at the empty armchair at the head of the table. Thanksgiving was right around the corner. There would be no “Daddy” sitting there, carving our turkey and stuffing his gut this year…No one helping me prepare any of the food for our feast…No one to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with me…No one to place bets with on all the football games over the holiday. That chair would inevitably remain empty — just like my heart.
