by Kelli Kimble
Bonds that Blind
Daughters of Anubis
Book 2
Kelli Kimble
Copyright © 2020 by Kelli Kimble
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Victoria Cooper of Victoria CooperArt
Editing by Robyn Latice
Chapter 1
August 4, 1963
Garfield College
It was small and smelled like old socks and curdled yogurt.
I loved it.
I dropped my suitcase on the bed. This would be my home away from home for the next four years. Standing in the middle of the room, I turned in a circle, taking it in. Jacob and Kal pushed in, lugging my trunk between them.
“Where do you want this?” Jacob asked. Kal didn’t wait for instruction. He dropped his end, leaving Jacob to grunt as he let his side drop, too. They were red-faced from lugging the heavy trunk up three flights of stairs.
“I don’t know, I guess under the bed,” I said. The beds had curiously long legs, leaving plenty of room for storage underneath.
“But which one?”
Both beds looked the same to me. Blue and white ticking over a mattress that had clearly seen better days.
“This one has pee stains on it,” Kal said, pointing at one.
“This one smells like vomit,” Jacob said, sniffing towards the other.
They laughed at their clever potty humor while I debated what to do. I’d been required to come to school a month early to participate in an orientation program, specifically for students who struggled in school. Technically, I had been a great student. It was less to do with grades and more to do with a series of events my senior year that caused me to drop out— getting my GED instead of graduating with my class. Garfield had accepted my GED with the concession that I take the orientation class. It meant that I was here well before my roommate.
“I guess I’ll stick with this one,” I pointed to the vomit-scented mattress. “But I’ve got to unpack it before you put it away.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Kal said, pulling a cigarette from the pack he had in his shirt pocket. I wrinkled my nose at him, and he pretended not to notice. “I’m gonna go unwind for a minute. Then we’ve gotta unload the rest. I don’t have a parking pass.”
Even though I thought his new smoking habit was disgusting, I smiled at his back. He’d wanted to give us a few minutes alone.
I opened the trunk and pulled out the sheets that I’d packed right on top so that I could make my bed first thing. Mother had suggested that I pack them that way, right before she started to cry and excused herself from my room at Mr. Anu’s place.
I spread the sheets over the bed. Jacob helped me smooth them in place.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay here?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the sheets.
“I’ll be fine here, just like you’ll be fine there. It’s only a fifteen minute drive.”
“Only, neither of us has a car to drive it in.”
“You could come to school here.”
“Or you could go to school there.”
I frowned at him. “You know that isn’t going to work. We shouldn’t spend our last few minutes together fighting.”
“Fine.” He pulled a blanket and pillows from the trunk and handed them to me. I finished making the bed as he watched, his arms crossed.
“We’re excited about this, remember?”
His mouth extended into a slow smile, giving my stomach a little flip-flop. “Yeah.” His arms gripped my waist gently as my arms slid around his neck. We kissed, causing my stomach to erupt into gravity-defying somersaults.
Kal coughed just outside the door. We immediately jumped apart. Kal was aware of our relationship, but we all liked to pretend that he wasn’t. He entered the room, carrying a laundry basket tucked under one arm and a suitcase in his free hand.
“How much stuff does one girl need?” he asked.
“More,” I said. “There’s just the trunk of books.”
“You know they have a library here, right?” Kal said.
“Yes.”
He stuck out his lower lip in a mock pout. “Fine. Let’s go get it, Jacob. I saw a meter maid walking just up the street. If Mr. Anu’s truck gets a ticket, one of you is paying for it.”
When they left me alone, I finished unpacking the trunk. Underneath the bedding I’d packed sweaters, coats and shoes. There were two tall chests of drawers, one on my side of the room and the other on my roommate’s. As I opened the one on my side of the room the strong distinguishing scent of moth balls greeted me. I was glad that mother had given me sachets and liner for the drawers. When the guys returned, I was already lining the first drawer.
“Did you pack bricks in this?” Kal demanded.
“Of course not.”
They dropped the trunk, rattling the window in its pane. I was glad that nobody else seemed to be around to hear.
“Well, kid. I guess this is goodbye for now. Keep your nose clean. Oh, and your ma asked me about twenty times to remind you to write home now and then.”
He hugged me and rumpled my hair.
“Thanks for your help, Kal.”
He shrugged. “I’m gonna catch another smoke before we take off.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and slouched out of the room. Jacob frowned.
“I think he’s really going to miss you.”
“You seem surprised.”
“He’s not a sentimental guy.”
“I’ll miss him.”
His frown deepened.
I smiled and tapped a finger to his frown, “But I’ll miss you more.”
We kissed once more. “I hate to go, but he’s waiting.”
I nodded, unable to trust my voice.
“I’ll see you soon, my Anubian princess.”
* * *
The first day of orientation dawned early. It was scheduled to start at eight o’clock in the morning in the Mess Hall. I had finally gotten fully unpacked and arranged my things, before going back and having to rearrange my things over and over because I couldn’t remember where I’d stashed my shower shoes. I tore everything out of my closet before I remembered that I’d placed them under the end of my bed.
I arrived at the Mess Hall only a little harried. I brought a notebook and a pencil to ensure that I was prepared. My nerves began to get the best of me as I clutched the notebook to my chest like armor. The familiar stirrings of being an outsider plucked at me when I entered. Most were standing in line, waiting to get their breakfast. But some had already gone through and were seated at the tables. There was the occasional shout of recognition as one person called to another. My cheeks felt hot knowing that there was nobody saving a seat for me.
Regardless, I’d chosen this opportunity and I was going to see it through. I moved to take a place in line, first taking a tray and selecting utensils. The boy in front of me was taking one of everything. He had a banana, an apple, an orange, a donut, a muffin, and a bowl of cereal, and he hadn’t even reached the hot foods. He looked back at me.
“Hey. This is probably th
e only free meal you’re going to get. Take as much as you can eat.”
“You’re going to eat all that?”
He smiled. “And then some.” He grabbed another donut and started eating it. “Name’s Wayne. What’s yours?”
“Iris. Pleased to meet you.”
He nodded with his mouth full, gulped it down and continued, “Hey, if you aren’t going to fill up your tray, do you mind carrying some stuff for me?”
“No, as long as you don’t mind me sitting by you. I don’t know anybody.”
He shrugged, already piling food on my tray. “Me either. I hear by the end of the month we’ll all be sick of each other.” He grinned at me. Powdered sugar from his donut ringed his mouth.
I pointed to my mouth, “You’ve got a little something, just there.”
“Oh.” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Where’re you from, Iris?”
As we moved down the line to the hot food, he heaped eggs, bacon, and sausage links onto a plate—which he set on my tray.
“Georgia, originally. Now I live in West Virginia.”
He gave me a sideways look, “That’s weird.”
My manners forbid me from noticing that he’d said something offensive. “And you? Where are you from?”
I collected a modest plate of bacon and scrambled eggs, along with some toast and a glass of milk. I had to squish some of his things together to make room for my plate.
“Pennsylvania.”
“Mm. I’ve never had the pleasure of going there.”
“It’s nothing great,” he responded flatly as he scanned the room and pointed at a table. “Let’s sit over there.” We walked over to the table, where there were only two spots left. Without comment, Wayne set his tray down and immediately began eating.
“Is this seat taken?” I asked the girl seated beside the empty seat that Wayne had left. She was reading, and she placed her finger in the text to hold her place before looking up.
“No,” she said quickly before burying her head back into her book.
“What are you here to study?” Wayne asked.
“Business,” I said. Wayne was beginning to get on my nerves. He had a grasp on his fork that made it perform more like a shovel than an eating utensil. Mother would have died if he were her son.
Before I could ask him about his studies, a woman stood on a chair at the end of our table.
“Hello, class of nineteen sixty-seven! My name is Corey and I’m your co-teaching assistant for orientation. We’re going to have some great fun together over the next few weeks. I’d like you all to meet Professor Cane, our orientation instructor,” she said as she began to clap her hands. Her clapping reminded me of a hummingbird.
I recognized a familiar scent becoming stronger as I glanced around the room. A barrel-chested man with bushy grey hair came over to stand beside Corey. He smiled and waved, sweeping his gaze over the crowd in response to his introduction. He seemed to be searching, just as diligently as myself. His eyes found mine and locked in.
He’s Anubian, too.
I nodded. He nodded his head in return as he started to speak, though I didn’t hear what he said because Wayne elbowed me in the ribs.
“You know that guy?”
“No,” I said, once again annoyed.
“Seems like he knows you.” He went back to eating.
I studied Professor Cane. I was certain it was his scent that I smelled. It was reminiscent of my parents, underneath the perfumes of artificial things like Daddy’s aftershave or the lotion Mother used on her hands. It was warm and earthy. Comforting.
He was taller than most men, though not as tall as Mr. Anu. He wore a white oxford shirt complimented by a baby blue bow-tie and black leather shoes that looked like work boots with the ankles cut short. Once I tuned back in to his words, I realized he was describing the curriculum for the orientation and that I should be taking notes. I cleared my notebook out from under the clutter of Wayne’s food and turned to a fresh sheet of paper.
“You won’t be graded on any of your work,” he said. “But I will have the last say on whether you will be allowed to continue into your freshman year.” He clasped his hands and began walking around the perimeter of the room, forcing everyone to turn to watch him. “Every year, there are a small handful of students that are best turned away. That isn’t to say that they don’t deserve an education as we have a rigorous admissions process. It’s rather that they perhaps aren’t quite mature enough to apply themselves to a course of study yet.
“You’ll be spending a lot of time with Casey and a few other teaching assistants. Even though she is a student herself, let me assure you that she knows the class syllabus and its content nearly as well as I do, and she can always answer your questions.”
Wayne snorted. “You know what that means?” he stage-whispered. “It means he doesn’t want us to bug him.”
“Excuse me,” Professor Cane paused and pointed to Wayne. “Did you have something you wanted to discuss?”
“No sir,” Wayne said. He stuffed half a glazed donut in his mouth, maybe hoping that would end the exchange.
“No, no. I distinctly heard you ask what something means. You must have a question.”
The reading girl looked up from her book. “He said that you don’t want us to bug you.”
Wayne coughed, only missing spraying the table with donut crumbs because he’d put his hand over his mouth in time. He didn’t have a napkin, though, and he wiped his palm against his pants.
“I think you misheard me,” he said, gulping down the donut. “I said that he wants us to love him.”
Professor Cane’s brow wrinkled.
Wayne shook his head, holding his hands up, as if he didn’t understand what the big deal was.
“All right,” Professor Cane kept his eyes on Wayne as he continued to speak. “I have office hours every weekday from eight to nine. With the exception of this morning, as it is already past nine. My office is number 320 in the Colton building. I’ll go ahead and turn it back over to Corey, unless there are any questions?” His eyes bounced around the room, settling on me at least twice. Then he stepped aside to yield the floor to Corey.
Corey clapped again. “Okay, everybody. It’s time for our very first icebreaker activity!”
My stomach grew uneasy; something told me the icebreaker wouldn’t make me feel any more welcome among the other students.
Chapter 2
A week of torturous icebreaking and relationship building activities went by before Professor Cane approached.
“Miss Hond. Can I see you for a moment?”
The other students slowly filed out of the lecture hall one by one. Only a few took note of Professor Cane’s interest in me; most of them treated me as if I were invisible. I didn’t mind. It was nicer than how things had been at school in Salvation before the incident with Gary.
“Of course,” I said.
“Are you settling in all right?” he asked, watching the students as they filed out.
“Yes, sir,” I answered. “Campus is lovely, and I haven’t had any trouble finding things.”
“Hm. Very good. And how do you like your dormitory?”
“It’s small, but fine. My roommate hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Yes, most of the students in this early group are on their own. But it gives you the advantage. When she does arrive, you’ll be able to show her around.”
I nodded.
He turned towards me as the door shut behind the last student, “Would you mind walking with me to my office?”
“All right.” I collected my things and waited as he packed up a leather briefcase with his papers and notes. I followed as he led the way up the aisle and to the rear doors of the auditorium.
“This style of classroom must be new to you.” He turned off the lights in the auditorium as we made our way to the hallway. “I understand the school district you came from was rather small.”
“I chose Garfield because it also see
med small. Relatively speaking.”
“Mm. Yes, I see your point. It isn’t a large school, not like Lowry State.”
We exited the building and started walking across the campus green. It was mid-afternoon, and a beautiful day. The sun was beaming, but a light breeze kept it from seeming stifling hot. Only a few clouds were marring the perfect blue of the sky. We passed a group of several older adults who all greeted Professor Cane cordially. He replied in kind. When they were out of earshot, he explained.
“Those were the other history professors from my department.”
“Ah,” I said. “I hadn’t realized that history was your subject.” It hadn’t occurred to me that he couldn’t just teach anything he wanted.
“Yes. It is near and dear to my heart. I specialize in the fertile crescent.”
My heart skipped a beat. Wasn’t Egypt partially in the fertile crescent? I didn’t want to sound stupid, so I held my comment. I wondered if he knew Tessa.
“Here’s my building. Let’s have a quick chat in my office?” He looked at his watch, “You should have plenty of time before your next activity.”
We walked inside of a red brick building, with white trim surrounding each door and window. Once inside, the strong scent of sharp chemicals and old books filled my nostrils. Without meaning to, I covered my nose with my hand.
“Ah. You smell the chemistry department. They have the first floor.” There was a staircase just inside the door; I followed him up six flights of stairs. When we reached the top, he was winded, and he stopped briefly to collect himself. “I apologize. The elevator is out of order. It never seems to be working.”
Once we turned out of the stairwell, we entered a long wide hallway tiled in black linoleum squares with glazed yellow brick walls. Bulletin boards were hung sparsely, each one covered in a variety of fliers, posters, and advertisements. He unlocked a door with a pane of windows covered with paper printed with faded autumn leaves. A brass nameplate on the door said, ‘Dilton Cane, Professor of history’. I stood outside the door, uncertain if I should follow him inside. He flipped on the lights and waved me in.
