Bonds That Beckon (Daughters of Anubis Book 1)

by Kelli Kimble

  “Protect me from what?”

  She grabbed hold of her apron and wrung it between her hands. “Please, go do your homework. We’ll talk about it when your father gets home.”

  Chapter 13

  “Where have you been?”

  Mother was after Daddy as soon as he was in the door. He strode around her, shook off his overcoat, which was muddy around the hem, and hung it in the hall closet. His shoes were muddy as well, and he had a smudge of what looked like grease above his eyebrow.

  “I had a flat tire,” he said. His voice was level and unwavering, a break from his ragged appearance. “I hope you didn’t hold dinner.”

  “Of course, I did. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s eat.”

  Mother fussed over him and he tolerated it, keeping his eyes downcast. He seemed tired and defeated.

  Daddy was just lifting his first forkful of tuna casserole to his mouth when I couldn’t hold back my questions anymore.

  “Daddy? Will a GED be enough to get me into college?”

  “I think so,” he said. “It’s just as good as a high school diploma.”

  “But will a good school accept it?”

  He frowned. “I’m not so worried about whether a GED will get you into a good school when I’m thinking about whether you’re going to be mowed down by some rabid supporter of that Damien boy.”

  “Clark,” Mother said.

  “It’s true, Betty. We can’t hide this from her, not anymore. They’re becoming too bold.” He turned to me. “Cinnamon Bun, I wish it weren’t true. I wish that Gary had never set foot in this house, that I’d never met him. If I hadn't, then I never would have given him permission to take you for ice cream — or to drive you anywhere, for that matter.”

  He pushed his plate away and rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. He sighed and dropped his hands to the table.

  “We’ve been receiving threats. Against you, me. Your mother. You can’t go back to school. You aren’t safe there. I’m not sure that we’re even safe here.”

  “What about the police?” I asked. “The sheriff —”

  He cut me off. “The sheriff is useless. And the state police say they can’t do anything until a crime is committed. Things have gotten out of hand, and I have to insist that you not go to school. You aren’t to leave the house. Not for any reason.”

  “But, Daddy —”

  “No buts. My tire wasn’t just flat. Someone slashed it. And just after you and your teacher left the office, someone threw a rock through my office window. Someone’s been calling the house all day, tormenting your mother. I won’t have anything happening to you. No more school. We can’t protect you there and God knows the school isn’t interested in protecting you.”

  My stomach clenched.

  “Clark, you’ve upset her.”

  “She should know the extent of it.” He locked eyes with me. “Do you understand? You aren’t to leave this house.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be staying home tomorrow, as well.” He sighed.

  “But, your job,” Mother said.

  He shook his head and she stopped. “There’s nothing to do there, anyway.” He pointed to my plate. “Eat your dinner, Cinnamon Bun. It’s getting cold.”

  Somehow I made it through the rest of the meal. Daddy didn’t say another word, and Mother ate even less than I did. I helped Mother clear and clean the dishes. Daddy went into the living room and turned on the television. The phone rang, but he didn’t answer it. The ringing clattered against my raw emotions.

  “Mother, is it really so bad?” I asked. I dried the last dish and set it in its place in the cabinet. To the right was the cabinet where she stored the whiskey. It was still ajar, and I pushed it closed.

  “Your father’s decision is final,” she said.

  “I don’t know anything about how to get a GED,” I said. “How will I find out if I don’t leave the house?”

  She sighed. “He didn’t mean you can never leave the house again, Iris. Just until all of this blows over.”

  She took off her apron and hung it on the hook beside the back door before leaving me alone with my thoughts. I felt a stab of remorse for what I’d done. Why had I fought back? If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be worrying about how to get a GED and whether I could use it to get into college. And I certainly wouldn’t be worrying about the safety of my parents.

  Outside, a dog howled in the distance. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  * * *

  Saturday morning, Mr. Anu arrived.

  “What a surprise,” Mother said. “Please come in. We were just having breakfast. Would you like anything?”

  He came into the kitchen. I was already eating, and Daddy hadn’t come downstairs yet, probably because they were avoiding each other. Their nerves were stretched taut and their usual level of bickering had escalated over the last few days.

  Mother served Mr. Anu pancakes and a cup of coffee.

  “This looks delicious, Mrs. Hond. Thank you.”

  Mother smiled, but her lack of confidence behind it was visible.

  “I stopped over because I’ve been trying to phone,” he said. “But something must be wrong with the connection. It just rings and rings.”

  “Oh,” Mother’s hand fluttered to her apron string, which she began twisting. “I’m terribly sorry. We’ve unplugged our telephone.”

  “Is it broken?”

  “No. We just needed a break from it, is all.” She offered him a smile that only involved her lips. Her eyes pinched together.

  Mr. Anu didn’t press. “Ah.” He turned to me. “I wanted to know if you’d mind working at the farm both today and tomorrow this week. I’ve got to start getting ready for winter.”

  Hope for the day burst out of me. “Oh, Mother. Can I?”

  As soon as it was out, I wanted to take it back. Mother’s eyes narrowed at me in a fast squint before returning to her previous pinched expression.

  “You’ll have to ask your father.” She went and stood near the cabinet with the whiskey. She’d been visiting the cabinet a lot, but I knew she wouldn’t dare take it out while I was in the room, let alone Mr. Anu. Still, it worried me that even being close to the bottle offered her comfort.

  My fork clattered to my plate. “I’ll go ask him.”

  He was in their bedroom, with the door standing open. He stood in front of the window and he was looking out over the street, his hands clasped behind his back. He let out a long sigh that ended in a low moan.

  “Daddy?”

  He turned. “Iris. I thought you were down at breakfast.”

  “Mr. Anu is here. He asked if I could work at the farm today and tomorrow. He has extra work before the weather changes. Mother said I should ask you if it’s all right for me to go.”

  He guided me to the stairs ahead of him without answering. We went to the kitchen together.

  “Anu, hello. I apologize, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Nice to see you, Clark. How’s business?”

  Daddy grimaced but quickly schooled his face into a more neutral expression. “It’s well enough, thank you. Iris tells me you were looking for her to come and work today.”

  “Yes. It’s getting time to prepare for winter.”

  Daddy nodded. “Of course. Iris, why don’t you go get changed into your work clothes?”

  Happy to be given an opportunity to leave the house but annoyed that I’d been dismissed, I went to my room. I left the door ajar as I changed so that I might hear a snippet of whatever they were talking about, but they spoke in soft tones.

  I dressed and returned to the kitchen quickly. Maybe they would continue their conversation in my presence.

  No such luck. When I entered the kitchen, they were talking about Mr. Anu staying for dinner on Sunday evening.

  Mr. Anu downed his coffee. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes, sir.”

>   We hadn’t even left Elm street when Mr. Anu started spilling.

  “Your parents are quite concerned about your situation,” he said. “If it isn’t resolved quickly, your father is going to be out of a job.”

  “He is?”

  “He hasn’t been going to work, and he told me that many of his customers are canceling their policies with him.”

  I frowned and watched my neighbors’ homes slide by. “I hate this town,” I said.

  “Maybe right now you do. But you’ll come to see it as I do.”

  “How do you see it?”

  He bared his teeth as he smiled, revealing his sharp canines. “It’s the place where my resurrection will begin.”

  “I told my teacher about you,” I blurted. “Miss Cucciolo. And I told her what she is.”

  Mr. Anu’s face returned to his usual placid expression. “And?”

  “I don’t think she believed me.”

  “You haven’t been out of the house since Tuesday? Haven’t spoken to any friends?”

  “No.” We were on Main Street now, stopped at the only stoplight in town. A woman and a small boy waited at the corner to cross the street. She met my eyes, her expression open and courteous. There was a brief spark of recognition, then she scowled and looked away.

  “I have some bad news. It seems Gary has recovered enough to return to school. And even though the charges have been dropped, he’s doing what he can to turn people against you. You and your family.

  “And . . . I’m afraid Miss Cucciolo has been dismissed from the school.” The light changed and the woman fell out of my line of vision.

  I let my head tip against the window, and I relaxed so that the motion of the truck caused my head to bounce against the glass. It hurt, a little. But it also felt good. I deserved it. That, and so much more.

  “Was she dismissed because of me?”

  He paused. “I couldn’t say, exactly.”

  “You don’t have to spare my feelings, Mr. Anu. I know that everyone blames me.”

  He sighed. “She came to see me on Thursday, though. I think you may have convinced her about what the two of you are.”

  I didn’t answer. I wasn’t convinced, it was why I’d told her the story. I wanted — no, needed — the perspective of someone who wasn’t so willing to believe as I was. I didn’t want to play the fool.

  “Maybe I should telephone her,” I said, returning to my worry she’d lost her job because of me.

  “It wouldn’t hurt. She isn’t angry with you if you’re worried about that. She knows that what happened isn’t your fault. And she knew, too, when she offered you a ride home, she was opening herself to criticism.”

  We rode in silence for the rest of the way. Even after we arrived at the farm, our usual conversation didn’t develop. He gave me tasks, and I performed them, happy just to be out of the confines of the nitpicking and petty arguments at home. We stopped working only for a brief lunch of bologna sandwiches. It was sunny but not too hot, and the work was satisfying.

  The afternoon was coming to a close when I saw a plume of dust approaching up the driveway.

  “Mr. Anu! Someone’s here,” I called. He looked up from the plow that he was working through the field behind the chicken coop.

  I shielded my eyes from the sun so that I could see the vehicle when it crested the hill of the drive.

  It was Daddy’s car.

  My body thrummed with a surge of adrenaline. What was it? Why was he here? Was it Mother? I ran to meet him as the car skidded to a stop in the gravel in front of the barn.

  “Daddy?”

  He opened the door and got out. A smell wafted ahead of him — smoke. Mother was in the passenger seat, her face buried in her crumpled hankie, and her shoulders heaving. She was still wearing her apron. Fear prickled up and down my spine. Something was terribly wrong. She never wore her apron outside the house.

  “Iris. I’m so glad you’re all right.” He wrapped his arms around me, and I breathed him in. Underneath the smoke, his clothes still held the scent of aftershave and beer. I clung to the familiarity of it.

  Mr. Anu approached. “Clark. Is everything all right?”

  “Our house . . . it’s burning,” he said.

  “Are you both all right, then? Nobody was hurt?”

  “No. I was worried about Iris, is all. You probably couldn’t hear your telephone ringing from outside.”

  “I’m terribly sorry that you drove out here when you’re having such a trial.” Mr. Anu opened the passenger door. “Mrs. Hond, please, come inside. I’ll make you a cup of tea.” He reached in and guided her out of the car. At his touch, her sobs ebbed away. I wished that it were my arm he was holding. I felt like I was going to shake right out of my own skin.

  Daddy loosened his hold on me, and we followed them to the house.

  The kitchen was cool in spite of the heat outside. Mr. Anu set the tea kettle to boil.

  “Do you need to return, Clark?”

  Daddy eased into the chair beside Mother at the table. Their eyes were glassy, and they moved as if they were underwater. “No. They already know it’s a total loss.”

  “Any idea what caused it?”

  Mother began sobbing into her hankie again.

  “Fire chief says it was most likely arson.” Daddy cleared his throat and kept his gaze on his hands, folded on the table.

  I stood behind Mother and stroked her hair. She also smelled of smoke, though not as heavily as Daddy.

  Everyone was silent as Mr. Anu prepared the tea. He brought steaming cups to the table for my parents, then a second set for me and him.

  “What will you do? Have you contacted your insurance company?”

  “Coverage is dependent on the results of the investigation,” Daddy said. “The chief said they should know the results inside a week.”

  “Where are we going to live, Clark? Maybe you could contact Mr. Scarbough and see if we could stay at your office. He lived there when he was working, after all.”

  Father shook his head. “Mr. Scarbough isn’t exactly happy with me, right now.”

  “You’ll stay here, of course,” Mr. Anu said.

  Mother and Daddy swung their eyes to look at him as if they’d choreographed it; though Daddy’s eyes had an air of suspicion and Mother’s were soft and hopeful, like a doe.

  “We couldn’t ask that of you,” Daddy said.

  “I insist. I’m one man, rattling around this huge house meant for a family. It would give me great pleasure to host you here.”

  “I don’t know,” Mother said.

  “Mrs. Hond. Would it make you feel better if I asked you to cook for me? I do delight in your meals, and it would save me so much trouble if I didn’t have to go into town to the diner.”

  Mother’s face flushed at the compliment. She turned to Daddy. “Where else do we have to go?”

  “There’s a motel in Shelby.”

  Mr. Anu clucked his tongue. “You’ll stay here. I insist.” He curled his hand into a fist and banged it on the table, just hard enough to make his point. “And I’m calling Mr. Finch right this minute. You need proper representation, going up against these insurance companies. They’ll try to weasel out of paying you over the silliest of technicalities.”

  He strode from the room, and the sound of the rotary on the phone turning followed.

  “We don’t have the money for a motel,” Mother whispered.

  “I know that. But we can’t impose on him.”

  “Mr. Anu has been nothing but kind to me,” I said. “And it’s not as if we’ll be sitting around like regular houseguests. He has plenty of work to do around the farm and no hands except for me. Daddy and I can help outside, and Mother can make meals and clean and properly stock his pantry.”

  Daddy bowed his head. In the other room, Mr. Anu was inviting someone to come for lunch tomorrow. Shortly after there was the rattle of the phone handset being set back in the cradle, and he returned.

  “He’ll co
me for lunch tomorrow. Now. I presume that you won’t be able to return to your home? That all you have is what’s on your backs?”

  Mother gasped.

  His expression softened. “I apologize. That was insensitive of me. It’s only that tomorrow is Sunday and all of the shops will be closed in town. If you’re going to get some necessities, I imagine you’ll need to do it before everything closes at six.”

  “He’s right,” Daddy said. “Betty and I will go to town and fetch some things.” He clenched his jaw for a moment before turning a sharp eye to Mr. Anu. “Are you sure we’re welcome here? I have no idea how long we’ll need a place to stay.”

  “You are welcome to stay indefinitely,” Mr. Anu said. “I know it sounds peculiar, but I’ve come to find that I don’t particularly enjoy being away from town, all by myself.”

  Daddy’s furrow creased, as though he were perplexed. But he didn’t argue. “I thank you for your hospitality, Anu. Anything we can do to assist here, we’ll gladly do. All three of us.”

  After they’d gone, curiosity got the better of me.

  “Why did they agree so easily?”

  “Hm?” He was running one long finger around the ridge of his teacup. In spite of all the work he did around the farm, his hands always looked perfectly groomed. Gentlemanly, even.

  “My father. He’s proud and independent. How’d you get them to agree to stay?”

  “You saw how.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Why do they trust you?”

  “Just as you’re drawn to me, they are as well. It’s a feeling that they can’t name, perhaps what you’d call a gut instinct.”

  I frowned. “You really are Anubis, aren’t you.”

  “My dear Miss Hond. I don’t know what else to do that will prove it to you.”

  “I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Let me know when you’ve decided. In the meantime, perhaps you and I should try to prepare dinner before your parents return.”

  I went through the motions of preparing a meal, but all the while, my thoughts were churning. What could he do to prove it to me? I’d experienced the soothing nature of his touch. He’d shown up inexplicably when I’d needed help — more than once. He’d shown me his mummification tools, and a book that was clearly older than anything I’d ever seen.