Grams came back out toting an icy glass of lemonade. I snatched it, muttered a quick “Thanks,” and downed it in one gulp.
“Ouch, that’s a bad dent.” Grams watched my face to gauge my reaction.
“It’s not that bad. By any chance, do you know how to change a tire?” I motioned toward the flat.
“No, sorry. It’s always been my feeling that the ability to change a tire is one of the reasons we keep men around.” She gave me a strained smile, trying to make light of a bad situation.
“Gabe does, but it won’t matter right now. I don’t have a spare.” I knew for a while I needed to get one but had failed to do so. It wasn’t an issue until this very moment.
“That’s not a problem,” Grams explained. “It’s a short walk to Hank’s place.”
“Hank?”
“He’s the only mechanic in town. He’ll loan you a spare. Gabe can throw it on. Then you can drive up to Hank’s, and he’ll get you all fixed up.” I pondered how I would get the spare home but quickly dismissed it. Small town like this, Hank probably did pick-ups and deliveries. I guess some good came from everybody knowing everyone.
“Sounds good.” I handed Grams back the glass and got back to work. I picked up a box that’s contents were scattered across my hood, and I glanced inside. “Whoa. Who’s this nasty-looking guy?”
“What’s that, dear?”
I set the box down and pulled out the item in question. Carved from one solid piece of wood was a creature I had never seen before. Its head and wings were that of a bird, but it had the body of a predatory cat. It stood assertive and proud—chest out, feet planted wide. Its head was thrown back as if in a roar.
“Hmmm … where did that come from?” Grams scooted up beside me to get a better look.
“You’ve never seen it before?”
“No, never. It must be an heirloom of Grandpa’s. I know what it is though. It’s the Gryphon. He’s supposed to be half eagle and half lion.”
I turned the sculpture over in my hands. Along the bottom, words were etched. “Protector of the Divine,” I read. “What does that mean?”
“The legend was that the Gryphon protected divine items from those with evil intent.”
“Divine items like what?”
“The Holy Grail … Noah’s actual ark … I’ve even heard a couple of these guys guard the gates of heaven.”
“So, he’s like a big, mythical guard dog?”
Grams chuckled. “Well, look at him. Who would want to mess with that?”
“Good point.” I flipped the mysterious sculpture over as I continued to examine it. Something inside of it clicked, followed by a faint whir. Before I could pull my hand away, a toothpick-sized wooden spike jutted out and pricked my finger. “Ow! Crap!” My blood dripped onto the sculpture, and I put my finger in my mouth to clean it off.
“Why the heck would anyone booby trap a wooden figurine?” Grams took the carving from me and set it down so she could inspect my injury. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
It didn’t hurt. Odd as it seemed, a liquidly warmth had spread through my hand. “I’m fine. It surprised me more than anything.” A succession of clicks, like a crank being turned, and the spike retracted itself. “It must be important to someone if they felt the need to protect it like that.”
Grams scoffed, “It’s so important it’s been sitting in my garage for God only knows how long.”
For reasons I couldn’t explain, I asked, “Can I have it?”
Grams’ penciled-in eyebrows shot up. “You want the booby-trapped artwork?”
Wordlessly, I nodded. I thought it best to refrain from telling her that as soon as my blood touched the sculpture, I felt a powerful draw to it. Or that the tingling heat from the spike’s impact had spread all the way up my arm.
Grams scooped up the sculpture and dropped it in my hands. “If you want it, it’s yours.”
Those simple words filled me with a sense of joy I couldn’t explain. Claiming the enigmatic item as my own felt right, and I had no idea why.
CHAPTER 3
I was wrong. Absolutely nothing good comes from being in a town this size.
As it turned out, Hank didn’t offer a drop-off/ pick-up service. They loaned you the tire and sent you on your merry way—a fact that would’ve been helpful to know before I walked there. I was left to my own devices to figure out how to get the stupid tire home.
After failed attempts at alternative methods, I accepted my only choice and rolled the tire down Gore Avenue toward Grams’. Had it been a full-sized tire, things may have been easier. I could’ve walked normally and rolled it along. The stance I contorted myself into to push the spare tire along knocked me down about a thousand cool points, even if I was the only one who cared. My face blushed bright red as I squatted down and rolled it hand-over-hand.
Hank’s entire crew watched me out the window, not even bothering to hide their laughter. Could even one of them offer me a ride home? No way! Turns out chivalry isn’t dead, it’s just busy laughing and pointing.
I trudged along for about half a mile before I stopped to stretch my back in front of the modest, independently-owned grocery store. I casually scanned the parking lot as I twisted and stretched my cramping muscles. That’s when I saw it. Dread punched its way into my gut and settled there like a lead weight. A news van was parked in front of the grocery store.
No, no, no, no, NO! I am not going to be on the news rolling this infuriatingly tiny tire down the street!
Freshly motivated, I pushed that tire for all I was worth, rolling it as fast as I could across what suddenly seemed to be an endless parking lot. An inkling of hope started to build. I was about halfway across and hadn’t been noticed. But then life intervened as it so enjoys doing.
From behind me, I heard, “Excuse me, miss?”
No! He’s not talking to me. Keep rolling!
“Miss?” Whoever it was, he was following me.
I don’t care if it’s that old guy who hands out the million dollar checks. I’m not stopping. It’s too mortifying.
“Whoa, hold on a sec.” An arm shot out and grasped my elbow. I lost control of the tire, and it took off on its own. I watched in horror as it meandered down the sidewalk, across the shoulder, and out into the road. An oncoming car slammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid it. I hung my head and hurried to retrieve my tire. As I bent to pick it up, I mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ to the irate driver. The gesture he gave in response made it clear my apology went unaccepted.
I heaved the tire against my chest and penguin-walked back to the sidewalk. Of course the guy waiting there had to be hot, because what kind of mortifying fun would it be for the universe if it was a sixty-year-old grandpa?
“I am so sorry,” he stated, struggling not to laugh.
“No problem. I was hoping I would get to play in traffic at some point today.” My tone was bitter enough to taint the joke.
“I was just going to ask if you needed help. But once you got that thing moving at Mach 10, I figured you were just gonna jump on and take off.” The stranger’s voice was thick with the amusement he failed to hide.
“I didn’t even think to try that. It may’ve been easier.” I laughed, grateful to see some humor in this.
He held his hand out to me. “I’m Alec Jeffries with Channel 4 News.”
“Really?” The shocked word slipped out before I could stop it. If I had any embarrassment left in me, I may have blushed. Thankfully, I was maxed out. “I’m sorry. That was rude. You just don’t look like a reporter.”
Reporters on television always looked neat and professional. Alec didn’t. His long, strawberry-blond hair was pulled back in a tight pony-tail at the nape of his neck. The shirt and tie he wore obviously weren’t his. His tall, lanky frame swam in the oversized clothing. The tie was loosely knotted around his neck, the shirt untucked. Clearly he went for the comfort angle, not style—a fashion sense I could relate to.
He smiled at me in
a relaxed, carefree way that added to his boyish charm. “I’m not. I’m actually a cameraman, forced in front of the lens against my will.”
“How’d they rope you in?”
“The station I work for is out of Nashville, but I was born and raised here. When they heard about the cat story, they decided to send the local boy out. Much to his dismay.”
“What cat story?”
“Haven’t you heard?” He pushed his cuffed sleeves further up his arms. His crystal blue eyes sparkled with delight. “There have been panther sightings in the mountains.”
“Panthers?” I repeated, not sure I’d heard right. “Did one escape from a zoo?”
He shook his head. “No zoos have reported missing animals.”
“Panthers aren’t indigenous to this area. Isn’t it more likely to be a mountain lion or something like that?”
“That’s what I thought, too.” He shrugged. “Seems a heck of a lot more plausible. But there have been eye witnesses that swear it’s a black panther.”
I couldn’t help but shiver. The idea of coming face-to-face with a carnivorous predator like that creeped me out. My reaction didn’t go unnoticed.
“Don’t worry. It hasn’t eaten anyone…yet.” Alec smiled mischievously. “So, are you going to tell me who you are, or do I have to guess?”
“Oh, sorry! I’m Celeste Garrett.” I wiped my hand on my jean shorts before extending it to Alec.
“A relative of Gladys Garrett?”
“She’s my grandmother.”
“She was the school nurse, right?” Alec glanced down and realized he still had a hold of my hand. A pink glow filled his cheeks as he released it.
“Yep.” I tried my best to suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth. “She’s retired now.”
“I remember her. She’s a really nice lady.”
“I think so.”
Awkward silence. Then, “You never answered me. Would you like some help getting your tire home? Or are you just gonna get it going again and see if you can fly there?”
“As much fun as that sounds, I would love a ride home.”
We were tossing the tire into the back of the news van when Alec commented offhandedly, “By the way, I got some great footage of you and your tire.”
Damn it.
As soon as we pulled into Grams’ driveway, I climbed out of the van and slid the side door open to retrieve my tire.
“You sure you don’t want me to change that for you?” Alec asked for the third time.
“No, but thanks. You’ve already done more than enough.”
The front door squeaked as Gabe stepped out onto the porch. Alec didn’t miss his entrance. “Your boyfriend looks ticked.”
“That’s my brother, Gabe. He always looks like that.” I set the tire on the ground and slammed the slider shut. “Thanks again for the ride.”
“I guess I’ll see you around.” Alec’s face expressed a mix of hesitancy and hope. We suffered through yet another awkward silence before he gave a brief wave and drove away.
Tire in tow, I shuffled my way to the garage where Gabe intercepted me. “Did you just get dropped off in a news van?” His lips were taut as he fought back a grin.
I felt straightforward was the best approach. “Yes. I was rolling the tire home, and he offered to give me a lift.”
“Wait, what was that?”
“What was what?”
“You were rolling the tire home?” Gabe’s face turned red with the strain of his contained laughter. “How far did you get?”
“The grocery store,” I muttered.
He exploded in hysterical fits. This was one of those moments when I wished I was an only child. I glared at him and waited for him to calm himself or choke on his own tongue. Whichever came first. I wasn’t picky.
“You done?” I snapped.
“For now,” he said, wiping tears from his face. “Although I’m pretty sure I’ll have the same reaction when I tell people. And trust me, I will tell people.”
“I’m not deluded enough to think you would keep it to yourself. I will give you my blessing to shout it from the rooftops as long as you do me one small favor first,” I bargained, pointing toward the tire.
Gabe groaned. “Fine, I’ll change your tire. But only if you help and let me teach you how to do it yourself.”
“What if I help by handing you whatever tools you need but make no false promises to pay attention or absorb any information?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
My tire-rolling escapade had eaten a huge chunk of daylight. The approaching twilight made it mandatory for us to turn on the outside lights to help illuminate our project. When Gabe determined that wasn’t adequate, I became the official flashlight holder. I leaned against the door frame and tuned out as he worked. Midway through the project, Kendall came sauntering up the driveway. Tagging along behind her was a scrawny, baby-faced boy. His sandy brown hair was combed straight forward and hung into his eyes—a fact that seemed to bother him. He kept nervously pushing it to the side or flipping his head. And they say girls are the only ones who will suffer for fashion.
“Hi, guys!” Keni bubbled. “This is Keith. He lives across the street.”
“Hi, Keith.” I smiled.
From his crouched position, Gabe grumbled, “One day roaming around and she already found someone to follow her like a puppy dog.”
I kicked his leg.
“Ow!”
“I met Keith at the library. He is so sweet!” Kendall gushed. Keith blushed at the compliment and flipped his hair again. “He read through scenes of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with me. And guess what? I talked him into auditioning for the role of Brick!”
Keith’s face blanched at that declaration. He may not want to audition, but more importantly, he didn’t want to disappoint the pretty girl. Of course Kendall was clueless.
“You know, Keni.” I tried to play diplomat. “Not everyone is as comfortable on stage as you are. Keith might be happier doing something behind the scenes.”
Kendall looked at me like I spouted gibberish. “But he wants to audition. Don’t you, Keith?” She unleashed the full power of her big, blue doe eyes on him. Poor, twitchy fella didn’t stand a chance.
Keith’s hair flipping reached a spastic pace. I started to worry he was going to inflict bodily harm on himself. “Yeah…uh, sure….it will be, uh…fun.”
“See?” Kendall said, beaming at her victory. “We’re going to head inside and rehearse a few more scenes.” With that, she took Keith’s hand and led him into the house.
“Not for too long!” I called after her. “Grams will be heading to bed soon.”
“Okay!” she chirped.
I watched as they walked through the door. “Do you think she realizes the effect she has on boys?”
Gabe paused in removing a lug nut and looked in their direction. “I think she’s completely oblivious. Just like he is that it isn’t a compliment when a girl you have a crush on wants you to audition for the role of ‘Brick.’”
“Why’s that?”
“Sub-context of the play—unanswered questions about Brick’s sexuality,” he explained with a shrug of his meaty shoulder.
“Oh, definitely not a compliment if your female crush asks you to play that part,” I agreed. “How the heck do you know that?”
“American Literature class at MSU.”
“You mean the one semester you took?”
“Wanna change your own tire?”
“Nope.”
“Then drop it.”
“Fair enough.”
He went back to work, vigorously struggling to loosen an uncooperative lug nut. Boredom set in and my mind began to wander. I’d like to say that I was debating philosophical issues that plagued mankind, but that’s nowhere near true. The crickets chirped, the leaves danced gently in the breeze, and I checked out mentally. One leaf broke free from its stem and flitted down past a glittery, yellow beak. That g
ot my attention. I peered closer. Perched among the branches sat the most regal bird I had ever seen. It looked like an eagle, but the colors were too bright, too vibrant. The head and neck of the mighty bird were the color of spun gold, its body the hue of freshly polished bronze. The noble-looking creature cocked its head and examined me.
I pushed myself off the door frame and stepped closer. The creature seemed to have a mutual interest in me. It turned its head side to side like it was trying to figure me out. I was so focused on the animal that I didn’t hear Gabe calling me.
“Cee, I need the light. Cee? Hello? Celeste!”
“Oh, sorry.” I stumbled back over and readjusted the light.
When I glanced back at the tree, the bird was still there. Something about it had changed, though. It seemed to be glowing. I looked around for an outside source of light. There was nothing. I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes. That didn’t help. The light grew brighter. A soft, white shimmer emanated from the eagle.
I wanted to get Gabe’s attention so he could witness this. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find my voice. The illuminated eagle rose from its perch and hovered just above the tree. The flapping of its wings was slow and methodical, like treading water. The glow became brighter, the equivalent of a street light. It was like a beacon in the sky that only I could see. I toyed with the idea that I could be hallucinating.
In one dramatic gesture, the mighty bird swooped mere feet over my head. I stumbled backward, lost my footing, and fell against my truck. It shot off in the direction of the mountains and left behind a trail like that from a sparkler. The trail pointed straight to the mountain range.
With the bird gone, I regained the ability to speak. “Did … you … see … that?” I stammered, scrambling to my feet.
“What? You falling into the truck? That’s not really a new thing for you,” Gabe muttered as he pulled the jack out from under the truck.
The Conduit (The Gryphon Series Book 1) Page 2
