Book Read Free

Talisman

Page 16

by S.E. Akers


  As I’d figured, 6:30 AM came awfully quick. In an attempt to score those precious make-or-break “five extra minutes”, I ended up falling right out of bed when I reached over too far trying to give my alarm clock a good whack. I lay there staring at the ceiling for a moment, reeling from the bump and trying to will my sluggish body off the floor. Once I’d acknowledged the long day ahead of me, I thought, Well now that I’m OUT, I reckon I might as well GET UP.

  I staggered over to my dresser, pulled open the third drawer, and stared at my vast collection of collegiate tops. I feel like a Virginia Tech girl today, I mused as I grabbed the burgundy & orange sweatshirt and tossed it onto my bed, knowing I was risking a few daggers being hurled my way. Around these parts, there was one simple rule for anything in those two colors bearing a “Hokie” mascot: you don’t wear it, you don’t drink out of it, you don’t sit on it, and you certainly don’t date it! Nevertheless, I was known to go against the grain from time to time.

  I shuffled to the bathroom. My plan was to take a very long & lazy shower, though I soon discovered our water heater had other ideas when an icy blast of water unexpectedly struck my back. The frigid blow catapulted me straight out of the shower where I stood naked, freezing, and without a bath towel — Damn! My only option was a small hand towel hanging by the sink. Figures… Left with no other choice, I bolted into the hall, snatched a larger one from out of the linen closet, and then raced to my room. After a proper dry-off, I grabbed a grubby old pair of jeans and threw on the rest of my clothes. To my surprise, I still wasn’t as awake as I needed to be. Maybe some coffee would help? I desperately needed a pick-me-up — a warm one this time.

  Everyone was still asleep, so I tiptoed my way down the stairs and straight to the kitchen. While the coffee brewed, I ran out to the front porch and retrieved the Saturday morning paper. I returned to the kitchen and slid out a chair as I scanned the front page.

  They should have changed the Bluefield Daily Telegraph to the Lazarus Times. Every article had SOMETHING to do with Xcavare. It talked about their intent to purchase the mine, as well as their strategies for revitalizing our town. I realized it was big news around these parts, but it also served an irritating reminder of what had happened, like a nagging thorn in my side. I didn’t want to think about him or the incident for a second longer — and I certainly didn’t want to read about him. After all, it hadn’t happened again. Maybe it was just a fluke?

  I sprang out of my chair as soon as I heard the soft “beep” ending the brewing cycle. I wasn’t a major coffee-addict like my parents. I only drank it occasionally, but for some reason this particular morning, I found the smell extremely arousing. Mug in hand, I snatched some creamer from the fridge, poured a cup, dumped in a spoonful of sugar, and headed back to my room to finish getting ready.

  Once all of my tresses had dried, I grabbed my trusty brown hairband and secured my ponytail. I’d felt a little chill in the air when I stepped outside to get the paper earlier, so I reached for my thicker jacket wedged in the back of my closet. With my sneakers now on and purse slung over my shoulder, I dashed back down to the kitchen for a quick second-cup.

  To my astonishment, Daddy was already up — cooking. As soon as he spotted the college sweatshirt I’d chosen, he chuckled, “I see someone’s lookin’ for trouble. We still play ’em in basketball, ya know.”

  “What are you doing up this early?” I asked.

  “What does it look like?” Daddy posed and tilted his head towards the floury mess on the counter. He was making breakfast, blueberry pancakes in fact. Daddy’s cooking skills weren’t extensive, but he made the best pancakes.

  “You know what I mean. Why aren’t you still in bed?” I questioned.

  “Oh . . . I roused a bit when I smelled the coffee brewin’. That’s better than an alarm clock,” he joked. “I knew you had a late night and were gettin’ ready to head over to Bea’s, so I thought I would make breakfast before you left.”

  “How thoughtful,” I gushed and kissed his cheek. “But why are you already dressed?” He wasn’t in his pajamas. Daddy was wearing a nice pair of chinos and his blue and white striped dress shirt. “Where are you going?” After all, it was Saturday, not Sunday morning.

  Daddy finished mixing the batter and folded in the sugarcoated blueberries. “As a matter of fact, I have to run up to Bluefield today. Something’s come up that I need to take care of before I go into work tonight.”

  “But you always have Saturday off? Why do you have to work tonight?”

  That’s crappy, I thought. The first time I’m going to wear a dress in almost eight years, and he won’t even be here to see it. I was disappointed even in spite of the fact that the dress was an atrocious hot-mess.

  Daddy let out a frustrated sigh. “Mr. Xcavare wanted the mine closed over the weekend so his guys can inspect it. But I’ve gotta go through a lot of paperwork for Harper. He’ll need all of it first thing Monday mornin’ if his lawyers plan on closin’ the mine’s sale by Friday. Shi, I’m sorry. I’m gonna miss you leavin’ for the dance — with Mike,” he grumbled, shaking his head. Daddy looked me square in the eyes. “Are you sure you wanna do this? ’Cause I’ll understand if you don’t.”

  Daddy wasn’t the problem. Charlotte and Chloe were the ones who wouldn’t be as understanding.

  “I’m fine with it, Daddy. I don’t blame Chloe for not trusting any of her friends.” That was for sure. I was secretly dying to let my little sister in on what the captain of her cheerleading squad had been doing with her boyfriend. “And anyway, Chloe already picked me up a dress. It would really be a shame to let it go to waste,” I said, amazingly with the straightest of faces.

  “Did you try on the dress? It fit okay?” Daddy asked as he ladled the batter onto the griddle.

  “Oh, umm . . . Not yet.” I paused to contemplate my reason. “I didn’t want to get it all wrinkled before I wear it tonight. As long as it’s a size 8, it’ll be fine. It looked like it would fit.”

  Daddy threw me a smile as he flipped the pancakes. I started fiddling around in my purse, so he couldn’t see how unenthused I really was about my attire for the evening. Honestly, what that thing needed was a can of gas and a lit match.

  “Did you know Ms. Sutherland was retiring?” I inquired, changing the subject.

  Though Daddy never turned his gaze from the stove, his hand hovered over the griddle almost pensively. “I’ve had my suspicions,” he sighed. “I guess Bea feels her time’s up at the mine, and she’s ready to move on.” Then his head fell into a somber tip. “She’ll definitely be missed.”

  I detected more than a twinge of sadness by the rasp in his tone. “It’s not because of Xcavare Enterprises, is it?” I probed.

  Daddy shot me a glance and let out a light laugh. “You would have to ask her that, honey. I’m not a mind reader.”

  I flashed an uncomfortable grin. I really could’ve done without that comment.

  The image of Beatrix Sutherland standing in front of the office window the other day was still haunting my thoughts. I would swear she was watching me. Normally I would pass it off as nothing more than paranoia, but with everything else that had been going on around here, I found myself doubting her disability more than ever.

  “You really don’t know how she lost her eyesight?” I questioned.

  “No. I don’t,” Daddy answered as he lifted one of the perfectly browned pancakes off the griddle and placed it on a large platter beside the stove.

  “Can she see at all? Like values of light . . . or something?” I continued.

  Daddy poured some more batter onto the griddle and then flashed me a curious look. “I honestly don’t know, Shi. Why are you so fascinated with her blindness all of a sudden?”

  I must have sounded a little too inquisitive. “Just curious,” I shrugged innocently.

  “More like nosey, I think,” Daddy teased and then swatted my arm
with the spatula.

  When I reached over to whack him back, I noticed something shining around his neck. I pointed to it straightaway. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothin’. Just that old necklace I used to wear,” he replied casually and adjusted his collar.

  I laughed. “The one with the clear crystal rock on the end of it? The one Mom hates and said made you look like a hippie?”

  Amused by Charlotte’s past remarks, Daddy grinned as he pulled it out from underneath his shirt. “That’s the one,” he confirmed, displaying it proudly.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Daddy with it on. It was just a small, unpolished clear crystal with a simple silver chain strung through it, nothing fancy by any means.

  “What made you put that on today?” I asked.

  “No reason . . . Just felt like it,” Daddy answered hastily and then returned to flipping the pancakes.

  I was a little perplexed by his somewhat evasive answer. No one ever wears something they haven’t put on in years without some kind of reason. What’s the big deal?

  While I stood there thinking about the odd little necklace and what could have prompted him to wear it, I happened to spy my cell phone lying on one of the counters nearby. I remembered leaving it in here last night, just as soon as I noticed how void of color the battery icon appeared.

  GREAT, I griped as I shoved it into my purse. I’ll just charge it in the car. I turned around to look at the clock on the wall. I really didn’t have time for breakfast. It was already 7:40 AM. I’d promised Ms. Sutherland that I would be there at 8:00 sharp, and I hated being late. I threw my purse over my shoulder and swiftly snatched a pancake Daddy had just flipped, catching it in midair.

  “I’m going to have to get that to go,” I said and took a quick bite. After a hurried swallow, I issued his cheek an endearing peck. “Love you, Daddy. Have fun running your errands today . . . And don’t work too hard tonight,” I called back, still munching on my breakfast.

  “You BEHAVE tonight!” Daddy ordered with a laugh. “You won’t have any metal Tonka trucks to conk him with. I’m gonna get Samuel to stop by the house as my stand-in — I’M SERIOUS!”

  “Sure thing, Daddy,” I hollered as I unfastened the deadbolts. “Oh, and tell Samuel not to forget his double-barrel shotgun,” I added with a laugh. “And my compliments to the chef. This batch is your best ever!”

  As I closed the door, I accidentally started to call back, “Bye” before I quickly stopped and corrected myself. Instead, I shouted out a pronounced, “See you later, Daddy.”

  That was weird. I almost told Daddy “bye” for some reason…and he hates that. Maybe I’m still not awake enough yet? That’s the last time I pull a double-shift at the Drive-In — especially on a game night!

  I headed for my car, digging through my purse for my keys as usual. Once I’d found them, I looked up and unexpectedly stopped dead in my tracks. Sitting on the roof of the old Charger was my gold & brown feathery-friend.

  “Where did you come from?” I asked aloud.

  The falcon squawked a little as I crept closer to the driver’s-side door, but it never moved. I raised my arm cautiously towards the magnificent bird. It was now hovering inches from me, not appearing the least bit spooked. Then slowly, I extended my hand and watched as the bird edged even closer. It came to a stop when it brushed against my fingers. Gingerly, I began stroking the falcon’s wing. It shifted around a bit more, but it didn’t fly off. It seemed to like it.

  “I didn’t get to thank you for helping me the other day,” I whispered. “I think you saved my life.”

  Normally I would think that talking to a wild bird was borderline-bizarre, but it felt natural, kind of like striking up a one-sided conversation with a faithful dog that a person would have had for years. Though realistically, it wasn’t any stranger than anything else that had happened over the past couple days.

  A loud “BANG” blared behind me. This time, the bird’s feathers were definitely ruffled (mine too). The falcon flew off straightaway and squawked repeatedly until it disappeared from sight. I whipped around to see Charlotte standing on the front porch, dressed in her pink chenille robe and matching fuzzy slippers.

  “Be home in plenty of time to get ready for the dance!” Charlotte barked. “I don’t want you keeping Mike waiting . . . UNDERSTAND?”

  “I won’t be late,” I yelled back as I slid into my car and cranked the engine.

  What a witch, I grumbled as I plowed out of our drive, leaving a fresh trail of slung gravel and dust swirling in the air.

  There wasn’t any traffic to speak of, so I made it to Ms. Sutherland’s house at eight on the dot. I remembered on the drive over that I’d loaned Daddy the cell phone charger I kept inside my car.

  I breathed out a sigh. I’ll just have to charge it when I get home. No big deal…

  A rented box truck sat in Ms. Sutherland’s driveway, so I parked on the street outside her house. Beatrix Sutherland lived on the “north side” of town. It was a much classier section of Welch where all the houses appeared impeccably kempt, and their lawns had to be manicured to perfection in accordance with their strict neighborhood covenants. Though Ms. Sutherland’s house was one of the smaller ones on her street, it was undeniably charming. The modest one-story cottage was clad with white siding and black shutters while a cheery red-painted front door added a tasteful touch of class to its façade. Every window donned ornate metal planters, which were currently filled to their brims with pansies. It kind of reminded me of an oversized dollhouse. The driveway was lined with towering cypress trees, which judging by their appearance were in desperate need of pruning. Their branches looked straggly and hung over the driveway in a chaotic manner. In fact, they covered the entire right side of the box truck parked in her drive.

  No wonder it’s backed in, I thought. Mr. Mayfield would’ve had to climb a daggone tree just to get out of the cab.

  I followed the curved cobblestone walkway that led to her front door and issued the brass doorbell one firm press upon my arrival. As I stood there fixated on the peephole, I started thinking, What if Ms. Sutherland really can see? How can I find out? Why would she hide it? My suspicions were bordering on obsession. I’d reached my limit of unresolved strange occurrences. Every one of them sparked extraordinary questions, but what I craved were ordinary answers. And I was going to get a least one of them today. My foot fortified my vow with a stream of steady taps. One way or another…

  I started to press the buzzer again when the front door flew open.

  “Oh, Shiloh. You’re here,” Beatrix Sutherland remarked before I could utter a single word. “Come on in, dear.”

  I found her on-the-money greeting amusing. “How on earth did you know it was me?” I asked skeptically as I walked past her.

  “I told you, dear — Freesias. My eyes may not work, but my nose still does,” she laughed.

  In a dubious manner, I took a quick sniff of my shirt. I still don’t smell anything, and I’m not buying her answer for a second…

  “Plus, you said you’d be here at eight sharp, and since there’s only one other person who would be arriving around that same time, I had a 50/50 shot.”

  Well, at least that one holds a little more water. She’s pretty slick. I’ll give her that.

  If I planned on getting any real answers, I figured bombarding her with tricky questions would be my best bet. A sly smile stretched across my face while my eyes crafted a hard-core look of determination. Surely even the most cunning adversary would slip up eventually, no matter how rote their ruse proved to be.

  Ms. Sutherland escorted me into her living room. It was like any other you would walk into — fully furnished with a large sofa, several cushy chairs, and strategically placed tables. My eyes fell on her console piano for a moment. I didn’t care how many Braille dots I spied bumping the sheet music propped front and center o
n its fancy rack. There were still actual “non-visually impaired” notes printed on the rows of staves just underneath them. My suspicions automatically started homing in on how lovely the room appeared. Every distinct color selection and all the various fabric patterns used throughout the space coordinated flawlessly together — well past the threshold of anal, I might add.

  “Your home is so beautiful, Ms. Sutherland,” I commented. “Did you decorate it yourself?”

  Beatrix Sutherland let out a sharp laugh. “Oh goodness no, dear. Monique Culbert, the lady who has the tailoring shop downtown, well she’s a good friend of mine. Monique helped me with the decorating. She picked out all the furniture and sewed my draperies. I would hate to think what this place would look like if I had made all the selections by myself,” she grinned.

  My eyes squinted. Maybe, I pondered, but something inside me still didn’t believe her.

  Suddenly a melodic chime rolled through the house. “Excuse me, Shiloh. That’s probably the young fellow from Helping Hands,” Ms. Sutherland revealed as she hurried off to answer the door.

  I heard a familiar voice entering the house. A few seconds later, Tyler Smith came strolling into the room, taking off his varsity jacket. He had that, I-just-fell-out-of-bed, but-I’m-still-hot-as-hell look going on. His droopy eyes lit up with surprise as soon as he saw me.

  “Oh, Shiloh, you probably already know Tyler. Aren’t you both in the same grade?” she asked.

  We both smiled and answered, “Yes,” in unison.

  “Tyler has been my assigned helper for the past couple years.” Ms. Sutherland felt around for his hand. “He’s been a godsend,” she beamed and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

  “Yeah, this is my girl right here,” Ty declared as he tenderly placed his arm around Ms. Sutherland and pulled her into a cuddly hug. “I’m going to miss her when she leaves. I’ll have to find someone else who will let me cut their grass and clean out their gutters,” he teased and then planted a quick peck on her cheek.

  I stood there smiling at them. That’s so sweet. Could he be any more perfect? I didn’t realize that it was Ty who would be here helping with the packing. I hadn’t seen him since he’d caught me avoiding Professor Grey in Geology class yesterday or spoken to him since our chat in the cafeteria on Thursday. His comments were still floating around in the back of my mind, as well as the way he was staring at me in Ms. Fitz’s class.

  “Here, Shi . . . I’ll take your coat back to the kitchen and hang it up for you,” Ty insisted. I peeled off my jacket and handed it to him with an appreciative smile.

  Good manners, too… Yeah, totally perfect, I thought as my eyes followed him out of the room, mentally noting that he looked just as fine going as he did coming.

  Beatrix Sutherland abruptly cleared her throat in a slightly suggestive manner, rocking me straight into a tight flinch on the spot. I’d let my suspicions about the sweet little old blind lady slip my mind for a moment, but seeing her standing there—with a grin on her face—begged the question of whether or not she caught me checking out Ty’s ass.

  My eyes narrowed instinctively. Oh yeah… It’s definitely on!

  “You two can get started in the living room. All I need is a place to sit for the next week, so everything else can be packed up,” Ms. Sutherland instructed. “Tyler, did you bring the packing paper and boxes?”

  “Sure did, and I have miles of tape,” Ty announced as he returned to the living room.

  I looked closely around the room. I found it sort of odd that she had so many figurines and ceramic collectibles scattered throughout the space. Most of them were little porcelain birds. Some sat perched on branches while others were fashioned to ornate porcelain flowers. Why would she have so many of these? She wouldn’t be able to see them, and they would be a pain in the butt to dust.

  “Excuse me for asking, Ms. Sutherland, but why do you have so many knickknacks lying around?” I inquired.

  Tyler shot me an odd look. I was a bit embarrassed by how rude he must have thought that sounded. Needing to tread lightly, I quickly rephrased my question.

  “I mean, doesn’t that create a lot of extra cleaning for you?” I posed.

  “What? My little birdies?” Ms. Sutherland asked.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” I replied respectfully, feeling the overwhelming need to show Ty that I did have some manners.

  “I collect those, dear. I’ve always been fascinated with the thought of birds. I’m even a member of the Audubon Society. I went out to Oregon last year on one of their retreats.”

  My mouth dropped. “The bird-watching organization?” I blurted skeptically, feeling the heat from Ty’s stare. Any hotter and he would have burned my eyebrows slick off.

  “That’s the one,” Ms. Sutherland confirmed proudly. “But they’re also a conservation group. I’ve been a member going on thirty-five years.”

  Still baffled, I decided to carry on with my interrogation. “So what did you do on the retreat?” My tactless inquiry almost caused Ty to drop one of the delicate baubles he was securing in bubble wrap.

  “We went on outings into the forest. The others bird-watched, but I listened. I’m quite the aficionado when it comes to distinguishing a bird by its call, if I do say so myself,” Ms. Sutherland boasted. “There’s just something remarkable about standing in the stillness of the forest, waiting for a beautiful melody to call out. It’s indescribably thrilling to imagine such a delicate creature flying from tree to tree while it showers the woods with its special song. There’s nothing like it — in my opinion. I love the feeling of freedom they must get from flying.”

  I’ll give her that one. Beatrix Sutherland - 2 — Me - 0. Her answer turned out to be a logical one, but I wasn’t in search of logic today. I wanted the truth.

  Ty chuckled. “But you don’t ride on airplanes, do you? Didn’t Mrs. Culbert drive you out to Oregon for the meeting last year?”

  “Oh, Tyler. Now you know I don’t like the idea of being cooped up in a long steel tube with my life in someone else’s hands. Where’s the freedom in that?” Ms. Sutherland grinned.

  Ty returned her affectionate expression and then purposely looked my way, clearly trying to analyze my intentions.

  “Well, I’m off to whip up a pot of apple cider. I guess I’d better let you two get to work,” Ms. Sutherland announced and then headed off to the kitchen.

  With a determined stance, I watched the sly silver-haired fox sashay proudly down the hall. Clearly it was time to up my game.

  We immediately went to packing. The noises in the room were random, like boxes being assembled or items being wrapped in thick paper. Every nagging screech of tape I heard stretching across a box served an awkward reminder that Ty and I hadn’t said one word to each other since Ms. Sutherland had left the room.

  “What’s up with you, Shi?” Ty asked cautiously, first to break the silence.

  “What do mean?” I answered with a nonchalant shrug. I already knew the answer to that one.

  “The questions for Bea. I mean, you’re not acting like your usual sensitive self.”

  “Just curious,” I assured, hoping I sounded innocent enough.

  Ty’s eyes narrowed as he processed my reply. He wasn’t buying it. I’ll have to be a little more careful with carrying out my little scheme. I didn’t know whose suspicions were greater at the present moment — mine about Ms. Sutherland or Ty’s about me?

  I strolled over to the corner of the room where Ms. Sutherland’s television was sitting. And it wasn’t just any ole TV either; it was a nice sized 52” inch flat-screen.

  “Why would she need that?” I posed aloud.

  Tyler finished taping up his box. “The TV? I’m sure to listen to it,” he replied sharply. “She’s not deaf.”

  “Yeah, but why does she have one that big?” I rebutted critically.

  “Maybe for guests? I’m sure she has company from time to time.”
Ty shook his head and started assembling a new box.

  Though I still wasn’t convinced, I followed suit and got back to the job at hand. Neither one of us initiated any more conversation other than “I need more tape” or “Hand me another box”.

  We’d finished packing up the entire living room roughly two hours later and were now ready to move on to the dining room. Mr. Mayfield, our local handyman, finally arrived. Ty stepped outside to greet him. Ms. Sutherland had mentioned that he would be popping in to pick up a set of keys he’d accidentally left here last night.

  An opportunity presented itself. Ms. Sutherland was still in the kitchen, but she would have to pass through the living room on her way out to give Mr. Mayfield back his keys. I’d noticed she wasn’t using her cane. Why would she in her own house? I could stack a bunch of boxes in the doorway and let her think I was outside, but I’ll hide in here. That way, when she sees the obstruction and thinks no one is around to catch her, she’ll have to maneuver around them.

  Busted, I predicted with a proud gleam glazing my eyes.

  I hurried over and stacked several boxes in the doorway. I kind of got a little carried away and positioned them to where there wasn’t any way around. She would definitely have to move them.

  Booby trap set, I confirmed.

  “Ms. Sutherland,” I called out. “Mr. Mayfield’s here. I’m going out to say hello to him.”

  “Oh, please tell him I’ll be out there in a jiffy with his keys,” she called back from the kitchen.

  “Will do,” I sang with a grin.

  I slammed the door shut, tiptoed back into the living room, and crouched down behind the yellow-checked sofa. I heard the faint sound of footsteps creaking along the hardwood floor that flowed throughout the house. The sounds were getting louder and heading this way. I peered around the corner and waited patiently out of sight.

  Just a few more seconds…

  My eagerness kicked into overdrive as soon as I spotted her rounding the corner. Ms. Sutherland stepped through the doorway and then to my dismay, she plowed straight into my crafty pyramid of boxes! Ty had just stepped back into the room and quickly rushed over to catch her just before she crashed onto the floor.

  “I’ve got you, Bea! Are you okay?” Ty asked anxiously.

  “Oh yes, Tyler. Goodness! I really need to be more careful. I’m so used to my surroundings that I’d forgotten they were in the process of being altered today. I should have known better and had my cane ready. Honestly, Tyler . . . I’m fine, dear. I sure do appreciate you breaking my fall. I hope I didn’t hurt you. Did I break anything?”

  “No, Ma’am. I’m fine and so are your things. These boxes are marked, ‘pillows and draperies’. There’s nothing breakable in them. I just want to make sure that you’re okay,” he stressed.

  My gut was already twisting with a nauseous churn, but hearing the worry in his voice sent it raging like a guilt-fueled tornado. I remained hidden behind the sofa, wallowing in my shame. What was I THINKING? She could’ve really been hurt. I felt horrible, absolutely horrible knowing my quest for answers had almost come at Bea’s expense.

  “I’ll get these out of your way and carried out to the truck.” Ty picked up the keys she had dropped and handed them back to her. “You can go ahead and give these to Mr. Mayfield,” he insisted. “You’ve got a clear path to the front door. There’s nothing in the way.”

  “Thank you, Tyler,” Ms. Sutherland replied gratefully.

  As I peeked out from behind the sofa, I saw her giving his cheek a few gentle pats. I quickly pulled back, maintaining my cover. I heard the door open and then slam shut. Ms. Sutherland was finally outside.

  One down, one to go…

  I waited for the sounds of Ty lugging the knocked over boxes out to the truck, but they never came. My patience was starting to wear thin. What’s he waiting on? The next thing I knew, a growing shadow was approaching the end of the sofa where I was hiding.

  “She’s gone,” Ty announced, his tone bordering on scathing. “You can get up now.”

  All of my muscles tightened in a cringe. Shit, I mouthed silently. I’d never felt this mortified in my entire life. With a grimace, I rose from my spot to find an extremely irritated and confused looking Tyler Smith glaring straight at me.

  “Where’s your head, Shi?” he demanded. “SERIOUSLY?” Ty’s tone was bad enough, but his expression left me with no doubts regarding his current emotions.

  Time to cover my ass… “What are you talking about?” I posed, playing clueless.

  Ty’s mouth flew open as he let out a disbelieving grunt. “You know what I’m talking about. I saw you. I saw you through the front window.”

  I scanned over to the bay window, which was now naked and drapery-free. Shamefaced, I turned back to witness his fixed stare.

  “You stacked those boxes there on purpose, and then you hid behind the sofa,” Ty charged. “For what? To watch her fall?”

  “Not exactly,” I huffed sheepishly as I bolted past him and made a break for the dining room. This sure has gone from bad to worse.

  He followed right behind me, practically on my heels. “Wait a second. What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?” Ty asked.

  I paused to contemplate whether or not I should reveal my suspicions about Ms. Sutherland. If I told him that I doubted she was blind, he would probably think I’d lost my mind. On the other hand, if I didn’t give him a good reason, he would most likely assume I’d done it out of sheer meanness, and that I was a despicable, horrible person. I looked at the confused expression on the handsome face of the boy I’d had a crush on for years. His blue eyes widened with every lingering moment of my silence.

  Yeah, I can live with “crazy”…

  Nervously, I started assembling a box for the china plates. “I was just conducting a little experiment,” I muttered.

  Ty’s eyes swelled at such an alarming rate I thought they were going to pop right out of his head.

  “What kind of experiment?” he posed. “How many bones you can break in a blind old lady’s body?”

  “NO!” I objected, feeling the sting of his disgust and sarcasm whipping my way. I took a deep breath and exhaled a heavy sigh. “I wanted to see if she truly is . . . blind.” I couldn’t stomach seeing the look on his face after that admission, so I started wrapping dinner plates while I waited for his response to my truthful, yet on the surface, completely insane reason.

  “If she’s truly blind?” Ty repeated slowly.

  I glanced over my shoulder. He was definitely dumbfounded, standing there with his mouth gaping, but at least he didn’t look as irate.

  “Why would you ever think she wasn’t?” Ty questioned. “We’ve both known her for years. She’s always been like that.”

  I placed the wrapped dishes in a box and then turned to fully face him. “I know, but the other day I felt like she was watching me. I could feel her eyes on me. It’s hard to describe, but it was like she wasn’t just looking at me, but into my soul . . . or something.”

  That ought to tighten up the last strap on my straitjacket, I confirmed quietly.

  Ty tilted his stare towards the ceiling and shook his head. “That’s crazy, Shiloh. Totally insane!” He walked away asking, “Why would sweet old Bea ever do something like that?”

  He was almost out of the room. “Ty — Wait! You’ve been working here for the past few years. Has there ever been a time when you’ve felt like that?” I pleaded. “Like she’s watching you?”

  Ty barely paused and half-turned his head. “No,” he answered flatly.

  I had to stop him from leaving, so I dashed over and threw myself in front of him, blocking the doorway. Without thinking, I grabbed his arms. “Never?” I pressed. “You’ve never felt or noticed anything? Anything strange at all?”

  Ty didn’t move. I was in no way, shape, or form as strong as he was, but something had him planted in place, a
wkwardly motionless. His head was cocked to the side, staring silently down at the floor. The handsome jock was thinking long and hard about something.

  “Ty?” I whispered, angling for any response.

  He finally yielded a sigh and then lifted his head until we were staring into each other’s eyes. “Maybe . . . Yeah, maybe,” he muttered.

  I noticed some reservation hiding behind his deep blue eyes. Without a doubt, he seemed leery about something. “What? What have you noticed?” I asked, breathless with anticipation.

  “Last fall, I was here with another volunteer, Clayton Myers. He was up on the roof fixing a couple of loose shingles for Bea. Then when he was coming down, he slipped and fell off the ladder. I heard a loud crack as soon as he hit the ground. Clayton was in a lot of pain, so I checked his leg. He couldn’t move it, and his ankle was red and swollen. I ran inside and called an ambulance. When I came back out, Bea was sitting on the ground beside him. She didn’t see me standing on the stoop. I heard her telling him to lie still, so she could take a look at it. She ran her hands all over Clayton’s right ankle and up his leg for about a minute. It was really weird. Then the ambulance came and took him to the hospital. I stopped by to check on him on my way home, but he was fine. They said none of his bones were broken, and his ankle wasn’t even swollen anymore. They were just keeping him there because he couldn’t remember what had happened. They thought he must’ve hit his head. All I could think about was the cracking sound I’d heard. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that same sound at football practice over the years. I’d swear on my life that it was broken!”

  My hands remained where they were, locked on his strong arms. I could feel my grip tightening as soon as I recognized the familiar air of suspicion in his voice, like a haunting whisper of doubt. It echoed mine. Even though I wasn’t there, I believed him.

  “Shi, I know what I heard . . . and what I saw. But that’s impossible, right?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted honestly. “The last few days have made me question everything around me.”

  I suddenly realized my innocent clutch had turned unexpectedly into more of an embrace and then my gaze began taking in every curve of his face. My eyes locked on his inescapably, almost as if the two pools of blue were tempting me like a cool lake in the heat of summer. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I felt him slowly moving towards me.

  Feeling an uneasiness shooting through me, I abruptly pulled away and grabbed the dishes I’d just laid on the table, pretending to get back to the job at hand. After all, Ty was technically Kara’s boyfriend, even if she didn’t seem to respect their so-called commitment. And even if by some remote chance he hadn’t just simply lost his footing or what have you, how could I even think about handing out my “first kiss” to him knowing I would be seeing them together later at the dance tonight? Ugh… And who knows what else… I’d never thought of myself as a second-string player before, and I sure-fire wasn’t about to start now.

  Even now I could still feel his eyes on me, back turned, which made me feel both apprehensive and elated at the same time.

  Ms. Sutherland entered the room. “How’s everything coming?” she asked.

  If there was ever a moment in need of a tension breaker, this was definitely one of those. I thanked the cosmos and went on to reply, “Fine, Ms. Sutherland. We’ll have you all packed up in no time.” Ty, however, never said a word.

  “I’m sure going to miss this house,” Ms. Sutherland remarked with a smile more somber than sunny. I assumed she was probably reminiscing from the way her eyes appeared glassy as she stood there in silence. Then a tear coursed down her cheek not a second later. Ms. Sutherland took an extra deep breath as she lifted her head and wiped it away. “Now, it’s okay if you two don’t get finished. I’ll have the movers do the rest when they come for the furniture next week. I know you have to leave around 1 o’clock Tyler, and Shiloh, I don’t want to keep you here all day.”

  “I can stay till around three, Ms. Sutherland.” I was in no rush to get home, and I still hadn’t gotten what I’d come for — my answer.

  “All right. Then I’ll let the two of you get back to it,” Ms. Sutherland smiled and then disappeared back down the hall. Ty carried the knocked over boxes out to the truck, and I went back to packing up the dining room. Within minutes, he stepped back into the room.

  “I’m going to start on the bedrooms,” Ty announced and then left straightaway, his arms laden with as much packing paraphernalia that he could carry.

  Clearly he seemed upset, but I wasn’t quite sure about what — The “Ms. Sutherland” thing or the “I don’t know if you were going to kiss me, but I’m not havin’ it” thing? Once my head had rocked out enough shakes, I snatched up a box and continued packing.

  In a little over an hour and a half, I had all Ms. Sutherland’s china, sterling silver, and crystal stemware wrapped up and placed in various boxes. Then one by one, I lugged them out to the truck. I was making my very last trip when I spotted Mr. Estell walking down the street.

  That’s FOUR freaking times in THREE DAGGONE DAYS! Crap. I know Welch is small, but — COME ON!

  Even in the light of day that man gave me the creeps. I didn’t know if it was his mangy appearance or his eerie demeanor that bothered me more. I’d never seen a smile on his face, but to be fair, I’d never really looked at him long enough to notice one. There was just something about him that compelled me to look away. His presence here disturbed me so much that I quickly slid the box into the truck and then turned to head back into the house.

  I happened to glance across the street before I strolled up the walk. Mr. Estell had stopped directly in front of Ms. Sutherland’s house and appeared to be watching me. A shiver shot straight down my spine when I got a clear look at his face this time. His expression was blank from any sort of emotion, almost unnaturally hollow.

  Maybe he’s still ticked about the other day? I did almost back into him. With that guilt-wheel picking up speed, I decided to see if I could get some sort of reaction from a kind gesture, so I threw up my hand and waved with a cheery smile plastered on my face.

  Unfortunately, I got one when the creepy drifter shot an awfully menacing sneer my way. His eyes pierced through me like a wicked sharp dagger and then a feeling of sheer hatred pelted my body like a hail of gunfire. This time, a whole lot more than just my spine shook; every daggone nerve in my body was quivering.

  I immediately bolted into the house and slammed the door. Then I hurried into the living room and peered out the window. Mr. Estell hadn’t moved from across the street, and his sinister eyes were still eerily transfixed on me. Since the bare window provided me with no cover whatsoever, I started easing back into the foyer. Then when I whipped around to head down the hall, I ran smack into Ty.

  “CRAP!” I screamed as I clutched my chest.

  “I’m sorry, Shi,” Ty chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

  I caught my breath. “It’s not you,” I insisted. “It’s that Mr. Estell outside. He threw me a horrible look and wouldn’t stop staring at me.”

  Ty darted towards the front door like a protective alpha-male and threw it open. “WHERE? I don’t see him.”

  Confused, I rushed to the door and ran outside. I couldn’t believe it, but Mr. Estell was gone. It was almost like he’d vanished into thin air. I charged towards the road and looked up and down the street.

  “Where the heck did he go? He was JUST HERE a second ago,” I declared.

  Ty joined me in the front yard. “Someone probably came along and picked him up. He’s always hitchhiking,” he reasoned.

  I hurried back inside with Ty following right behind me. “NO. There weren’t any cars that passed by. I didn’t see or hear a single one,” I stated adamantly.

  “Well, he’s gone now. You can stop acting like a scared little girl,” Ty cracked as he passed me and tugged
on my ponytail.

  His “little girl” comment flew all over me, especially thinking about how Professor Tanner Grey had thrown that perturbing phrase around on my behalf, repeatedly.

  “I’m not acting like a scared little girl! He just creeped me out. That’s all!” I barked.

  “Whoa! I’m sorry, Shi. Easy,” Ty defended as he threw up his arms. “The guy’s probably not playing with a full deck.”

  In an attempt to console me, he laid his hands on my shoulders and began rubbing them gently. It started out as a friendly gesture, but the longer he massaged them, the deeper and more defined his touch became. I wasn’t upset anymore, but as a warm tingle ran rampant throughout my body, I knew I was a whole heck of a lot of somethin’ else.

  I looked over at his hands and then up at him curiously. Ty pulled away quickly, obviously embarrassed by his frisky, unconscious move.

  I desperately needed another tension breaker. “I’m finished with the dining room. How about you?” I inquired.

  “The spare bedroom is all packed up. I’m working in Bea’s bedroom right now,” Ty said, sounding more relaxed.

  “Do you want some help?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Come on,” Ty grinned and motioned me down the hall.

  As I entered Beatrix Sutherland’s master bedroom, my eyes did a complete sweep of the extremely frilly and feminine space. The walls were covered in a yellow-striped wallpaper, adorned with a fetching pink floral motif. Her grand cherry poster bed was draped in a soft white chenille coverlet and smothered in decorative throw pillows. I shook my head. If I thought there were a lot of knickknacks in the living room, I was mistaken. I discovered the mother lode in here. Little birdies lay positioned and perched on every table, in every corner of the room. My attention then turned to an old wooden rocking chair sitting by a window. Without a doubt, it was a picturesque addition to the room’s décor, but there was something funny about the way it was situated. It faced towards the window, not into the room like you would see in most every other home — yet another little oddity that kept fueling my suspicions.

  We packed up everything she wouldn’t need for the next week. I could see Tyler out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to want to say something but kept hesitating for some reason. His restrained silence was starting to drive me a little nuts.

  “So what do you have to do this afternoon that’s more important than helping ole Bea?” I inquired.

  Ty smiled and paused for a moment. “I have to drive over to Pineville and pick up my tux.”

  The last time I’d spoken with Ty about anything to do with tonight’s dance he seemed a bit miffed, so I figured lightening the mood couldn’t hurt. “Oh, that is important,” I mocked as I whipped out one of Ms. Sutherland’s evening dresses from a garment box nearby and draped it over my body. “After all, the Homecoming dance is one of our school’s biggest social events — with the notable exception of the prom. Anyone who’s anyone will be there,” I proclaimed, my southern accent laden with as much dramatics as it could pack.

  “Yeah, I know,” Ty replied, mirroring my tone. “You wouldn’t believe who is going to be there . . . and who they’re coming with.”

  His innuendo was just as clear as Ms. Sutherland’s crystal stemware that I’d packed away over a couple of hours ago. I frowned as I hung the dress back in the cardboard garment box. I didn’t want to talk about the dance. It would be here soon enough. Ty took the hint from the look on my face. He’d sure hit his target when he fired that one out of the chamber. Once again, a deafening silence swiftly filled the room and stagnated like a suffocating cloud.

  No sooner than we’d finished up, Ms. Sutherland came strolling into the bedroom. “How’s it coming in here?” she asked.

  “I just have to carry out the last box. Then we’ll be officially done,” Ty announced proudly.

  “My, you two make a good team,” Ms. Sutherland stated with a smile. An awkward vibe bounced between us. “Please come into the kitchen and get something to drink.”

  Ty hoisted the remaining box onto his firm, broad shoulder and motioned me ahead of him. “After you,” he insisted politely and waved his hand.

  We followed Ms. Sutherland down the hall and into the kitchen. Two steamy cups of apple cider were already waiting for us. We both pulled out our chairs and sat around the round oak table, eager to sip on the warm treat. Her cider recipe turned out to be second to none—plenty of sweetness, with a hint of spice and not too tart—the perfect drink for a crisp autumn day.

  We sat there for a spell, singing Ms. Sutherland’s praises and telling her how much she would be missed. Her eyes began to tear up from our heartfelt wishes for her happiness.

  “Goodness, you both are so precious. Your words mean more than you’ll ever know. Thank you so much for helping me today. You’re both so thoughtful and caring.” Ms. Sutherland continued to weep. “Those are rare qualities in teenagers nowadays.” She walked over to where her paper towels sat on the counter and fiddled with the empty tube. “Please excuse me for a moment. I need to get some tissues.”

  “Sure,” we replied.

  As she exited the room, I found myself wondering how I could ever think “sweet old Beatrix Sutherland” would be trying to deceive anyone with a fake disability. My time was almost up, and I still hadn’t uncovered anything. I sat in my wooden chair just as empty-handed as I felt uncomfortably ashamed.

  Another moment of awkward silence passed, which seemed to be the recurring theme of the day. However, it came to a swift end when Ty noticed the time on the clock above the refrigerator. It was 1:30 PM.

  He shot up out of his chair. “I’m late!” Ty exclaimed as he pulled his keys out of his pocket.

  I guess he can’t keep his tuxedo waiting. Kara wouldn’t appreciate that one bit. Secretly, I wished I was that excited about the dance tonight. The only thing I felt was miserable, with a touch of dread.

  Something in the back of my mind surfaced as I watched him race over to grab his jacket off the wall. Most every guy at our school usually went to Primo Formals downtown or to one of the shops in Bluefield to get their tuxedoes. It just seemed odd.

  “Hey, Ty . . . Why did you go to a tux shop over in Pineville?”

  “Well, I hadn’t planned on going to the dance,” Ty revealed as he slipped on his jacket. “All the other stores were out of my size by the time I decided to go, but I found one over at Ava’s Formals. My mom knows a lady who works there.”

  “Oh,” I muttered. “So Kara being crowned Homecoming Queen changed your mind? Last night?”

  That’s probably why he wasn’t at the Drive-In. He was trying to track down a tux. Granted it made sense, but what I couldn’t understand was why Ty wouldn’t naturally assume that he would have to go to the dance with his girlfriend. I couldn’t fathom the thought of Kara being happy about not attending the Homecoming dance, let alone going without a date. She lived for that crap.

  Ty smiled and shook his head. “That’s not why I changed my mind,” he replied with a quiver of a grin. “You’re still coming tonight, aren’t you? I mean, I will see you there?”

  “Trust me . . . You won’t be able to miss me,” I assured with a caustic bite. My skin was starting to crawl just thinking about all those hideous layers of puke yellow fabric. Without a doubt, I would need a bath before and after the daggone dance. Ugh…

  Ty was in such a hurry he seemed oblivious to my sarcasm. He rushed out the door and then stopped before he completely exited.

  “Save me a dance,” Ty called back with a wink and then ran off like his tail was on fire.

  A smile swept across my face, amplifying the flush of my cheeks as I pondered his staggering request. I soon found myself daydreaming about dancing with Ty while my fingertips stroked the edge of my mug.

  Could Katie be right? I allowed my thoughts to carry me away for a moment. I never thought he shared any of the same feelings I’d had
. Then again, I was too focused on school to even notice.

  I pictured us there, dancing slowly under the soft lights of our dimly lit school gymnasium…until the reality of that ghastly dress surfaced. That sure yanked me out of my trance like a slap to the face, not to mention, the reality of his girlfriend and my date. I shook off any preconceived intensions regarding his dance request. We were already coupled up for all intents and purposes — Kara had been his girlfriend for a while, and Mike was merely a peacekeeping favor from Hell.

  My eyes wandered around the kitchen while I sat there waiting for Ms. Sutherland to return. Surely she needed to pack up a few things in here as well. The décor of the charming little space was “strawberries” and they were everywhere—on the wallpaper, the placemats, the appliance covers—practically on anything standing still. Even all the ceramic canisters and dishes lining her almond-colored countertops featured the cutesy motif.

  While my gaze continued traveling around the room, I spotted the box marked, “Master Bedroom” that Ty had forgotten to take out to the truck.

  I pushed my chair away from the table and walked over to collect the box. It was kind of heavy, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I used my butt to push open the back door and made my way down a small set of concrete steps. There was a long narrow walk beside the house that led out to the driveway. As I toted the box to the truck, I noticed the cypress trees that desperately needed pruning ran clear back to the rear of the house, right alongside my path. The overgrown limbs hung down over the walkway and had a creepy appearance like rough, jagged arms reaching out. I felt a few of their needles scratching me, but I continued to push onward, burying my face down behind the box to avoid any scrapes. Once I’d arrived at the back of the truck, I slid the cardboard box snugly inside and gave it a little tap, signifying a job completed.

  While standing there, my ears began picking up on a strange noise. It was a steady, high-pitched rattling sound that seemed to be getting louder and escalating at a disturbing rate. Just as I turned to check it out, from out of nowhere Ms. Sutherland lunged at me. She had come at me so fast that I immediately crouched down defensively toward the concrete drive — hands over my head and my eyes slammed to a close. Oddly enough, my knee-jerk reaction to her unforeseen move had been mostly triggered by the horrible scowl I’d seen etched on her face. But something else had caught my eye in that split-second — something that appeared to have been lodged in the center of her forehead.

  I hunkered down beside the box truck. WHAT THE HELL?

  Gradually I opened my eyes, squinting for a clarifying peek. She was just standing there in front of me—now passive and motionless—but something was hanging beside her that trailed down to the ground. Since there seemed to be no more apparent signs of aggression, I slowly lowered my arms and rose to my feet. On the way up, my eyes shot open just as fast as my bottom lip fell to the ground. Standing in front of me was Ms. Sutherland…holding the largest freakin’ rattlesnake I’d ever seen!

  Chapter 7

 

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