by Jody Klaire
I took the can off my knee, knowing full well she cherished my gift. “I gave it to you. It keeps you safe.” I cracked open the can, feeling wobbly. I’d felt funny all day. I was trying to ignore it in the hope that, whatever was prickling my senses, it would go away.
I was on vacation. I hadn’t ever had a vacation before. Off duty. No freaky stuff, as Renee would say. Nope. Vacation.
“So what Nan get you doing now?” I asked, getting drawn to her eyes. Gray eyes. Sometimes they were stormy. I wasn’t sure how but they reminded me of the sky: Sometimes calm blue, other times, rolling thunder. You could tell a lot about her by her eyes.
Renee kissed the necklace and tucked it back in her t-shirt. She kissed it often. “She worries about you.”
“Nan?” I raised my eyebrows. Nan was more laid back than I was.
“Your mother.” She glanced back at the cabin and her eyes caught the light from the windows. Tonight they were twinkly eyes, eyes that were so intense yet filled with glimmers of kindness. Eyes that met mine. “Quit staring, dimwit.”
I sighed. I got the feeling I stared a lot. “She can come ask me herself then.”
“A ‘Lilia sucks day’ today, I’m guessing?” Renee squeezed my knee but I weren’t biting. I weren’t looking at her. Nope.
I had days when I liked my abandoning, duplicitous mother. Then there were days when I wanted to forget that she waltzed on in, blackmailed me into taking her place in CIG, and ripped my life from underneath me.
Hmm. Maybe Renee was right.
I drank from my can. Maybe she’d let it drop if I acted like I hadn’t heard? Yeah, like she’d do that. I knew she wouldn’t let it go. I could feel she wouldn’t.
“What’s wrong?” Her words were so quiet that I could hear Mrs. Squirrel scratching over them.
“Nothin’.”
Renee shifted to lean on her hand and looked up at me. Her gaze was like a magnet and she knew it. She knew how hard it was not to look at her. “Aeron, I know there is.”
I sat forward and scrunched up my long legs. I wasn’t getting drawn in. “There’s a few people in the cabin. Maybe you just got to feeling their mood.”
Her gaze prickled my cheek. “You think I just rely on feelings?”
Renee was a logical person . . . Unless she was scared, or protective or in a bad mood and then her logic vanished quicker than Mrs. Squirrel’s nut stash. Thinking of the furry nut-aholic, what was she up to now?
It sounded like she was attempting to dig through metal . . . and where was she? I could feel her in the little blue box I’d fixed to the wall for her but the noise wasn’t coming from there.
“You want me to leave?” Renee whispered.
I frowned, falling into the trap and meeting her eyes. Sneaky. “How’d you get that from nothin’?”
“You’re spending a lot of time on your own.” Her eyes swirled as they searched mine, clouds of thought rolling through them. “You’ve put up with me being here and in your hair. You must be tired of me by now?”
I didn’t get her sometimes. “Try looking without your own fears?” I nodded as the clouds of thought cracked into a glare. I let energy ooze from me toward her. “You really think that came from me?”
She closed her eyes and smiled as my energy wrapped around her own. It was one of the cool things about sharing with her, I could give her an energy hug. “It could have.”
She wasn’t used to feeling energy like I did. Her aura filled and did a happy dance. She was kinda a dimwit for a clever person sometimes.
“Uh huh.”
I focused my thoughts and touched her hand. She laughed at the picture I sent her. “I know, locked in a mental institution . . . boundaries are no big deal.”
I finished my can, closed off the connection, and put my armor back in place. It was funny how such a calm, controlled, confident woman could be so insecure.
“Put your shield up all you like, I still know there’s something going on in that head of yours.” She opened her eyes and bored into mine once more.
“There was me thinkin’ it was vacant.” I crushed the can, scowling as it didn’t drown out the scratching. At this rate she’d be the first squirrel to burrow to Australia.
Renee poked me in the thigh. “Why are you avoiding the question?”
I glanced over at the cabin. The noise was coming from that direction, somewhere. Maybe next to it?
“Aeron.” Renee pulled me to look at her by my chin.
I sighed. She wasn’t going to let it drop. “You’ll think I’m being dumb.”
“Dumb and vacant in the space of a few sentences, who’s the insecure one now?” Renee said with a knowing smile.
I frowned. I knew I hadn’t said that out loud. How’d she know I thought she was feeling insecure?
“Your smile said it for you.” She smiled up at me. “Talk to me.”
I got the feeling she was gonna nag me ’til I did. She nodded to confirm it. Great.
“I feel . . . kinda . . . well . . . like an outsider.” I glanced over her shoulder. The noise was getting louder. “It’s home . . . but it kinda feels like their home.”
She guided my chin so I could only focus on her. “You don’t think that makes it yours too?”
She was fast slipping into shrink mode. Good ol’ Doctor Serena Llys.
“I don’t know them. Not really.” I pulled my chin free and stared up at the cabin. It glowed welcome like it was trying to reassure me. “They live there, together, as a family. I’m just visiting.”
“So where is home to you?” Renee’s voice was soft, gentle, curious, not shrink-like at all.
Mrs. Squirrel sounded like she was gonna rip right through something any second. Renee was waiting for an answer. I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck, the restlessness wriggling through me again. I needed to move, to do something . . . to find what Mrs. Squirrel was scratching at before there was a hole in the cabin wall.
“Aeron?”
“Wherever you are,” I mumbled and got up.
I trudged toward the cabin, making my escape as I followed the sound. She’d think I was crazier than she already knew I was.
It was better I didn’t think on that. Focus on the squirrel hunt. The noise was coming from the trunk of my dad’s car. The scratching grew more frantic. What was Mrs. Squirrel up to now? What was she doing in the trunk? I was pretty sure I saw her floating her furry butt toward the trees earlier. How had she got in there?
“You hiding so I can’t see you blush?” Renee bumped my thigh with her hip but I stared at the car.
“There’s something in the trunk,” I said, ignoring that my cheeks felt like they could toast s’mores.
“Uh huh.” Her amused tone only made my cheeks fire up brighter.
“There is.” I rubbed the back of my neck as she chuckled. I pointed to the car. My dad’s keys were inside and they were having dinner. They didn’t need me lumbering in. Besides, he might get mad at the sneaky squirrel and I kinda liked her.
“It’s your house.” Renee squeezed my arm, her gaze boring into my cheek again.
“You reading me?” I wasn’t meeting her eyes this time. Oh no, my cheeks were burning bright enough as it was.
“No. The grumpy look at the door was enough.” She pulled something out of the back pocket of her jeans. “Scoot over.”
I frowned as she pulled out two metal prongs.
She raised her eyebrows, flicking her hand at me. “Scoot.”
The scratching got worse so I did as told. Renee inserted the prongs into the lock and squinted, then scrunched up her nose, pulling her mouth to the side as she twisted the prongs around.
“What you—”
The trunk popped. I stared at her. That was some extracurricular skill.
Renee shrugged. “Ursula can break any lock. Hang around her enough and you pick up tips.”
I folded my arms. I’d been in Frei’s pockets for months and she hadn’t ever shown me that. It was handy.
I could have used a skill like that.
I looked down at my mitts.
Maybe not. Delicate and me didn’t really fit.
Renee lifted the lid of the trunk. “You’re more than capa—” She shrieked. Something furry sprang out, past her shoulder, and made a break for it. Foam or cotton or something trailed along behind.
I took a look at the damage. One chewed-up trunk.
“What was it?” Renee scanned the darkness.
I walked over to Mrs. Squirrel’s box and lifted the lid. “One of yours?”
Mrs. Squirrel met my eyes with her beautiful big ones. The culprit of the scratching was huddled in the corner with my dad’s wide brimmed hat in his paws.
Mrs. Squirrel sniffed my nose. Yes, he is and would you be so kind as to knock before disturbing dinner?
“If you want more bedding, I’ll go get you some,” I told her, shaking my head at the remains of my dad’s hat. “Personal property ain’t allowed.”
The furry thief munched away at his prize, eyeing me. He locked me in. I was hungry.
“Yeah, but what were you doin’ in there in the first place?”
That stumped him. I bent down and pulled out a new bag of nuts from the store below. I could see the thief had been trying to break in there, judging by the scratch marks. Good thing it was metal.
“Trade you?” I showed the bag to the thief.
He threw his contraband and dived for the bag. I just had time to tip it in before he took my hand off. I smiled at a proud looking Mrs. Squirrel. “He’s a lot like you.”
She flicked her tail in my face and dived for the nuts.
“Are you really talking to them?” Renee leaned against the wall, shaking her head.
“Sure, how else could I salvage,” I picked up what was left of my father’s hat, “this badge?”
Renee cocked her head. “Yes. He’ll never know it’s been touched.” She smiled. “If he moves to . . . um Pol.”
Guess Oppidum Police had gotten a name change. I chuckled and closed the lid so the critters could eat in peace. “’Bout time he got a new hat anyhow, right?”
Renee bumped my arm. “You look a lot like a naughty schoolgirl when you pull that face.” She shook her head at me and turned to walk toward the door.
“Says you who just picked the lock to the Police Chief’s trunk.” I threw the hat in the trash.
She flashed me a smile. “I was rescuing a delinquent squirrel. Now, come on, let’s get you some food.”
I hesitated. My feet seemed ready to lead me back to the river and sit it out. I’d wait ’til they went to bed.
“They love you. It’s your home.”
I stared down at my hands. Maybe I could just try and meditate again? Maybe I could camp outside?
“I would really love to have dinner with you and your family.” She smiled up at me. Man, her and those eyes. “Please.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. How come she always did that? She have burdens I didn’t know about? “You think I’m being dumb, don’t you?”
Renee shook her head. Her eyes gentle and filled with affection. “No, I think you’re feeling insecure.” She opened the door, holding her hand out to me. “It’s a human trait if you haven’t noticed.”
I squinted at the warm lights pouring out into the night. Renee was silhouetted against them. The blonde in her hair caught the light behind.
“It don’t make me feel no braver.”
She reached out and took my hand. “How ’bout now?”
I sighed. “Now I can tell you’re starving and that your back hurts.” I frowned. “What were you doing trying to help Mrs. Stein move her wardrobe anyhow?”
Renee yanked me inside. “Quit delaying, Lorelei, and wash. I’m hungry.”
I let her guide me in, then scuttled into the bathroom, seeing everyone gathered around the table. Renee left me to my thoughts as we cleaned up but kept close. Maybe I was just feeling insecure? Maybe.
I felt like I’d known Martha and Earl in St. Jude’s a lot better. I peeked my head out, trying to ignore that feeling of discomfort, of not really fitting in.
My dad turned and shot a beaming smile my way as we headed to the table. His aura looked full and rosy. It was clear he loved having me back home. My sisters were bouncing with excitement as they squabbled over who would take the chair next to me. I was pretty sure Louise, the youngest, would win that. She loved having me to pounce on.
My mother sat at the foot of the table. Her aura, I could never read. It was masked. Her expressions were masked. It almost felt like the closer I got to her in proximity, the more I was repelled. I knew I looked more like her than my dad. She was shorter, more ladylike by a long way, but my eyes were like hers, my skin color, my hair, maybe even my burdens. A really familiar looking stranger. I wasn’t ever sure what she thought. I wasn’t even sure if she liked me. It felt like there was only room for one of us sometimes.
ONE OF THE reasons I liked eating with Renee or alone was that I didn’t feel the need to make conversation. In Serenity, there was a lot of talking, and sometimes brawling, at mealtimes. I’d been conditioned not to look up during group meals because of that; to be aware of everyone but not make eye contact. I’d been lucky enough not to have that situation come up a lot since I’d left the institution. Folks in CIG didn’t socialize with me and the most folks I’d sat around a table with had been the kids in Caprock.
I had coped just fine with them. Maybe because I’d been on duty, I didn’t know, but sitting around a dining table with my family just dragged up images of Serenity.
“Chip called me earlier,” my dad said in a tone that made me focus more on my half-eaten food. I’d done something wrong.
“He did?” Renee asked in a bright voice, her gaze on me again. She wanted me to answer but I just wanted to eat.
“Told me some tourist spot up the river said they called complaining.” Ruth and Louise giggled at his playful tone. My mother tutted with affection pouring through it.
I shoveled my food in my mouth, wanting to escape upstairs. Whether he was playing or not, I’d spent too many years hearing that somebody had called to whine about me.
“If it’s about the boat, that’s my fault,” Renee said. Her knee pressed to mine under the table. A “say something” gesture.
“What you do to the boat?” Louise asked. She sounded like her mother Jenny in that tone. I blinked away the memory of Jenny at that age, at her mean streak. The memory of her on the floor bleeding followed it until my food didn’t look appetizing anymore.
“I sank it,” Renee said in a cheeky tone. “We hit a rock.”
Louise sucked in a dramatic gasp. “That’s naughty.”
“It was. I did it by accident though.” I heard Louise giggle as Renee tickled her. Renee interacted with them a lot better than me at dinner. Dinner times were different.
“It wasn’t about the boat.” My dad sounded like he was concerned. I could feel him looking at me. I could feel Renee and my mother doing the same. “He said some kids had stolen a truck and parked it in the dock.”
My mother gave a disapproving humming sound. “In as in . . .”
“In the water,” my dad said with a sigh. “What is it with teenagers and trucks anyhow?”
Smash—flashes of Sam and I hurtling along country roads in a “borrowed” truck hit me; crash—flashes of him hurting my dad; bam—flashes of Jenny on the floor; bam, bam, crash—the noise of Serenity meal times. Smash, crash, bam, bam, bam, crash–over and over, bam, bam, bam, crash—Bombardment. My gut twisted. I shoved my chair away from the table. “Gotta go.”
My dad sighed. “Aeron, I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” Did I? Flashes of him gripping his chest, of him chucking a trunk at my feet and driving off.
I strode up the stairs. Tears stung my eyes. I’d been a stupid, careless, selfish teenager. If I hadn’t protected Sam, Ruth and Louise would still have a mother. If I hadn’t done so many stupid things, mayb
e I wouldn’t be this much of a mess.
“Aeron?” Wasn’t surprising that Renee followed me. She probably wanted answers.
I climbed up, past my room to the very top of the place. I’d climbed through the window there once with Renee to repair the roof. Now it was a loft area. A large skylight in the ceiling and a squishy sofa that showed someone, I was guessing my mother, used it often.
“It’s okay to find things hard,” Renee said in a gentle tone.
I sat on the floor in the corner, not wanting to touch anything of my mother’s. “I can’t stand it.”
She wandered into the moonlight and sat on the sofa. “What can’t you stand? Remember that I’m here to help you, like I did as Doctor Llys.” I looked up at her and she smiled. “That was more me than her anyway.”
“You remember the day we met?”
Renee let out a soft groan. “Don’t remind me. You freaked me out.”
I hadn’t realized why before but I’d called her a name that the guy who’d tormented her had used. Another dumb mistake.
“What about it?” She studied me, chewing her lip in thought. “The two women had a fight and,” she pulled her face into a sad smile, “I blamed you.”
“Yeah, you stuck me in a prison yard with her friends to punish me too.” I waved my hand to dismiss it. “But that was mealtimes.”
Renee “ah’d,” and placed her hands together in front of her. “They are a source of anxiety for you?”
I rolled my eyes at her shrink term. “More about survival. Either way. I like eating alone . . . or with you.”
Her eyes flicked to and fro. Some thought whirred around her. “Your parents, your sisters, me . . . we won’t hurt you. You know that, yes?”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t know them. My dad would be mad at dinner, growing up.” I shrugged. “I made him mad a lot.”
“But you’re not a child anymore.”
“Ain’t I?” I flicked my hair back. I didn’t do it as much away from Oppidum. I didn’t do a lot of things away from here.
“At last count you were twenty-eight,” she said, shifting to pull one foot underneath her opposite knee. Her jeans flexed against her thigh. She wore jeans that hugged her legs a lot. Blue jeans especially. “That makes you an adult.”
