by Jamie Loeak
thought that he might be begging Adriana to melt the steel rods so that they couldn’t be used as weapons anymore. Kate didn’t expect to see Rico cooking breakfast right now, especially her breakfast.
Twenty minutes later a plate was set in front of Kate. It was overflowing with granola and banana nut pancakes. A second later, two smaller plates, along with forks and glasses of orange juice were placed on the table as well. Kate’s stomach rumbled, eager to taste Rico’s cooking. She took a bite of the steaming pancakes, fully aware that he was probably buttering her up, tricking her to tell him about her dream.
“Why did you do this?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.
“You said that you were hungry. Why wouldn’t I cook you breakfast?” Rico responded.
“I don’t know. It might have something to do with the fact that we can’t have a normal conversation. I mean one without arguments.”
“We were about to have one,” Rico commented. “However, we can still try if you want, Kate. I don’t care.”
Kate rolled her eyes at him.
“Hey, you were the one that brought it up. I was just disagreeing with you,” he said with a smile.
“Wow. You’re really something,” Kate retorted.
“Thank you, Kate.”
Kate raised her eyebrow at Rico, and stared at him. He really was something. He enjoyed being serious at certain points but would make fun of Kate a minute later. She didn’t understand Rico or his intentions, especially because they seemed to be centered on her while spinning out of control at the same time.
“This is delicious,” Kate said in an attempt to change the subject.
“Thank you. I truly appreciate it, Kate. It means a lot to me that you like my pancakes, considering I was told that you make the best ones.”
“I don’t make the best pancakes.”
“That’s not what Adriana and Donovan said,” Rico commented. “You should take their compliments; they aren’t handed out very often.”
Kate looked at Rico. Here he was being nice again. A rush of exuberance flashed through Kate at this thought. Maybe they had moved beyond the petty arguments. However, when Rico left after breakfast, he took no new knowledge with him.
Rico knew that he wouldn’t learn any more about Kate after the first few minutes of breakfast. She was quick to believe his words but took time to speak her own. His thoughts moved from Kate to her dream, sifting through her words and analyzing them. This was added to the information that was already known about the demons hunting her, which didn’t add much. Rico ruffled his hair in frustration as he continued walking toward his home, unsure of where to move next.
9
Kate found herself lounging around outside a couple of hours later, flipping through a trashy magazine, and finding enjoyment in the miserable lives of celebrities. She wondered how they handled their seemingly perfect lives. People just wanted to see them fail, or at the very least see them without makeup. They didn’t care about the positive aspects of their lives, like their charities or thoughts on the world.
Kate was so engrossed by a disturbing picture, describing the newest teen heartthrob and his possible relationship with another teen star, that she didn’t hear the soft shuffle of the gardener at first. She turned to find him making his way around the side of the house. A younger man followed him, carrying the equipment.
The gardener moved over to Kate; his empty hands swayed by his sides, almost as if he was using them to propel himself forward. Today he wore khaki cargo shorts and a sky blue t-shirt, along with a straw hat to block out the heat of the sun.
“I’m sorry that I was unable to come back out the other day, Miss,” he said apologetically. “This time I brought the help of a friend o’ mine if you don’t mind.” His smile was kind; his eyebrows were knit together in concern. He really was asking Kate if it was okay to bring along someone to help him.
Kate shook her head and pointed once again to the door behind her. “It’s open,” she said to the two men. “Go on and let yourselves inside. Thank you for all of your help, by the way. The plants and flowers are beautiful.”
“Thank you, Miss. I appreciate that you’re taking the time to look at the plants,” the gardener replied kindly.
Kate smiled and watched both of them step inside; the younger man helped the older man over the threshold. The younger man had large muscles and close cropped hair. His arms were covered with tattoos of swirling patterns and runes. He wore a tight tank top that showed off his broad chest; his jean shorts were loose. If Kate hadn’t seen him help the older man, she might have thought him scary.
Kate pushed the two men out of her mind and focused on more important things, like celebrity gossip. She allowed herself to dwell on the celebrities’ seemingly perfect lives and tried to imagine what it would be like to have a life that was inspected under a microscope. She shook her head, deciding that it was better to be normal, even her new and twisted version of it.
A few minutes later, Kate looked up to see the younger man walking back outside to deal with the shrubs and trees that grew at the sides and front of the house. She peeked over her magazine and watched him; his movements were slow and deliberate, almost as if he was learning how to garden and protect the plants. She wondered why the older man brought him if he wasn’t fully capable of doing the work. She decided that his muscle made up for his lack of natural ability.
When the younger man finished his designated area, he walked back inside to help the older man finish up his part. Kate heard the pair exchange words. It sounded like the younger man was offering the older man the opportunity to wait in their vehicle. A minute later, the older man maneuvered over the threshold and down the stairs, shuffling all the way to the truck. Kate watched him disappear around the corner, somehow mesmerized by his slow, casual walk.
“Hey, Miss, I was wondering about these plants with the yellow flowers in the kitchen. Do I need to spray these also?”
Kate turned, barely hearing the question that came from inside. She couldn’t remember a plant with yellow flowers in the kitchen, but then again the only thing she had seen in the kitchen was Rico.
Kate stood up and headed inside with the assumption that Blaire had purchased more flowers. The interior was dim compared to the light outside. Kate’s eyes had to readjust to the limited light in the house, and she blinked several times to make the process move faster. When her vision finally cleared she wandered into the kitchen, searching for the man and the yellow flowers.
An image formed in Kate’s mind, and she remembered her mother’s bouquet of yellow and red roses. Blaire received this bouquet each anniversary and every other romantic holiday. They symbolized her deep friendship and passion with her husband.
The first year that Kate’s dad purchased the flowers was the year that the family moved to Australia. The couple had been strained because her dad had been unable to find a position at the local attorney’s office. The family had been living on Blaire’s meager salary; there was little to no money that could have gone toward a beautiful anniversary vacation, which was the norm among Kate’s parents, and Blaire had been feeling gloomy about it. However, Kate’s dad had arrived at their small cottage with a bouquet of yellow and red roses, a map, and some string. That evening Blaire and her husband planned out their anniversary vacations for the next few years, imagining what they would do when they reached each port or destination. The map now hung in a frame over their bed.
Kate shook her head to clear her mind. There was no time to reminisce; the man inside needed Kate to help him with the plants that her mother purchased.
“Excuse me,” she called. “Did you take the flowers with you? I don’t see where they are.”
“They’re back here, Miss. I carried them back here since you were taking so long. I’ll be right back up there if you just want to wait,” he added, talking loudly enough this time so that Kate could hear him clearly.
Kate waited in the kitchen for a couple minutes but
grew impatient. The sun was waiting for her, and she wouldn’t allow it to wait so long. She assumed that the man was watering the ten arrangements her parents had in their bedroom and headed that way, deciding that it was better to meet him than wait.
She walked into the room but the man wasn’t there. Instead, she saw the beautiful arrangements of lilacs and lavender; the purple of the flowers stood out against the aqua bedspread and ivory pillows. The dark wooden canopy bed dominated the room; the familiar, worn map hung above it, a symbol of hopes and dreams. This man was too big to hide in here without being seen, and Kate turned around, ready to wait outside for the big lug, when she bumped into him. His muscles were solid and very large, much larger than they appeared before. Kate imagined that he was scary if you angered him, and she felt a twinge of sadness for the person that would do such a thing.
“Goodness,” she breathed. “You startled me for a second.”
“I startled you?” he asked. His voice was laced with concern, but grew oddly serious when he made his next statement. “I meant to scare you.”
Kate stumbled further into her parent’s bedroom, and inadvertently forced herself to sit down when the backs of her knees came in contact with the side of the bed. Was this man a demon? Why did he want to hurt her? Did he want to possess Kate? Then the worst question: Was this man an
