Embers

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  The only other things I remembered from that visit was Mom crying as we drove away and the log cabin in the woods that had been surrounded by brilliant blooming flowers. In the years after the visit, I had dreamed about the picturesque cabin, and of Aunt Ila’s kind face, too many times to count, but we never went there again.

  “Yes, I remember. Why?” I asked suspiciously.

  “This might be a bit of a shock to you, but…” Here, my brother hesitated and then blurted out, “The lawyer called me a few days ago. It seems that when he was cleaning out his file cabinet he came across a more current Will signed by Mom and Dad. They had added a special clause stating that if anything happened to both of them, you were to go live with her.”

  Chloe interrupted, “Ember’s almost eighteen. The law isn’t going to send her off to live with some woman she doesn’t even know.”

  “Don’t you see though? This is the perfect way to save Angus,” Timmy told Chloe, but he faced me and said, “I called Aunt Ila yesterday. She was excited about you coming to stay with her. When I told her that you have a horse and dog, she said you are welcome to bring them with you. Besides,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I had the feeling that you might want to get out of here…away from them for a while.”

  My mind reeled. Why would my parents want me to live in the wild mountains of Tennessee with an old woman I’d only met once?

  Chloe was right, it was crazy.

  But it was also my chance of escape, an opportunity to get away from Marshall’s nasty paws and Aunt Connie’s cigarette smoke. And, although I wouldn’t admit it to Timmy and Chloe, I had secretly been wishing to leave this place since I was ten. Now I wouldn’t have to go through basic training to achieve my goal.

  “Taking Angus out of the state is a way to protect him from a death sentence. Even though Marshall deserved it, the animal control officer is only going to be concerned with the fact that the dog nearly bit someone’s hand off.”

  Timmy’s eyes glistened with moisture. I stared at the brown and green flecks swirling in those worried eyes as he grasped my knees. “You need to hook up the horse trailer and be on your way,” he instructed.

  I began to protest and he shushed me. “We’ll stay here and deal with the authorities. I’ll tell them we’ve had this move arranged for a while, or that the dog ran off. I’ll come up with something that makes sense.”

  Timmy motioned to Chloe, “Throw a bunch of her clothes into a bag.”

  “This is nuts,” Chloe exclaimed, but she rose from the chair and quickly left the room anyway.

  “You can call us every night. It will only be for a few months. Once you turn eighteen, you can come back and live here in the house without Aunt Connie. She’ll have no legal excuse to remain—she’ll have to leave. Hopefully by then the police will have forgotten all about Angus.”

  “Marshall will never forget,” I whispered.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll handle him in my own way.”

  My throat constricted at his words.

  Timmy swallowed and choked out, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more. I

  should have been here for you, then I would’ve known what was going on.”

  “Going…on?” I stammered.

  Timmy rose and began pacing the room as if he was a caged lion. “I see it now. The disgusting way Marshall looks at you...,” he stopped and faced me. “Did he ever…touch you…hurt you in any way before today?”

  Seeing the desperation on my brother’s face, I was certain that he’d kill Marshall if I confirmed his suspicions.

  A part of me (most of me actually) wanted to see Marshall’s lifeless body in a pool of blood. And when the image flashed through my mind, it brightened my mood considerably. I couldn’t deny it. I’d be thrilled if the man were dead. But I wasn’t delusional enough to think that it was normal for me to have such violent thoughts. And then there was the priest’s voice blasting inside my head.

  You are good—there is light inside of you. You have a choice.

  I wasn’t sure if the reason I was about to lie was because of my own selfishness or the priest’s words, but I knew for certain that I didn’t want my brother thrown in jail for the rest of his life for murdering Marshall. I couldn’t lose him too. And Marshall wasn’t worth it.

  “No. Today was the first time.”

  He breathed out a sigh of relief, and then nodded with acceptance. “Angus is a part of the family. I don’t see any other way to get him—or you—out of this mess.”

  The quiet urgency to Timmy’s words snapped me to attention.

  Then I remembered what else the priest had said. You must trust Fate. She is on your side.

  Whether or not the priest was insane was still up in the air, but I knew a few things for certain. Mom and Dad were dead, Marshall was a disgusting pig who wouldn’t give up until Angus was dead, and I had survived an explosion that should have cremated me.

  I needed answers. And since Father Palano had disappeared into thin air after the funeral, I didn’t have many other options. Besides, I had a feeling that Aunt Ila might actually know what was going on with me.

  Trust Fate.

  With hardly a conscious effort, I said, “Okay.”

  Isaiah 6:2

  Above it stood seraphim; each one had six wings: with two he covered his face, with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.

  Ember ~ Five

  The wilderness beyond the driver’s side window was the perfect place to disappear. I reached out and scratched Angus’ head. He was safe now. Marshall couldn’t find us here. A shard of optimism shot through me, but I didn’t exactly breathe out a sigh of relief just yet.

  The five hour drive south had gone by in a blur. I couldn’t even remember crossing the state line from Kentucky into Tennessee. And unfortunately, covering hundreds of miles alone gives a person a lot of time to think. The conversation with the priest and the image of Marshall clutching what was left of his hand had kept replaying over and over in my mind.

  And the entire time, the fire was at the edge of my every thought. As if it had a life of its own, it pushed in, filling my head with heat that should have made me sick. Instead, the flames brought a quiet thrill that made me uneasy.

  I had to keep reminding myself that the fire had killed my parents.

  In an attempt to divert my attention, I tried to focus on the drastic change of scenery from the Ohio farmland I had just left, to the Tennessee wilderness that was going to be my home for the foreseeable future.

  The woods here were thick and imposing. The branches draped over the gravel roadway, shading the truck from the bright afternoon sun. The shiny leaves of Rhododendron were everywhere and provided a natural barrier into the forest. It was as if the trees and plants themselves were hiding secrets.

  I was relieved when the road finally widened and the trees dropped away, leaving tall grass in their place. The breeze swirling in from the open windows afforded some relief from the humid, southern heat, and the forest smelled nice.

  I breathed in the tangy pine needles and sighed deeply. Even the orange colored dirt had a scorched odor that was very different than the fertile dark earth I was used to back home. Besides the smells that tantalized my senses, everything about the place was jagged and rugged, inhospitable. It was almost as if nature itself wanted to be left alone and was using all of its ability to keep people away.

  The screech of a hawk caused me look up, squinting into the sunlight. The raptor was silhouetted against the blue sky as it circled low over a stand of cedar trees. It was an enormous bird, and after a long look at it, I decided that it wasn’t a hawk at all, but an owl. Craning my neck out the window, I wished the brownish-grey bird was close enough for me to see it better.

  At the same instant that I had the thought, it turned and flew straight at the truck. If I had stretched out just a little further, I probably could have touched it as it swooped by.

  I thought owls only came out at night.

&n
bsp; It took me a couple of seconds to shake off the weird encounter with the owl, and by that time, I began worrying that maybe I had somehow missed the turn. I picked up my phone and checked for bars, and then snorted, tossing it aside. I wasn’t surprised that there was no reception, but it was still irritating. I decided to pull over and park for a few minutes so Angus and I could stretch our legs. I’d take the opportunity to have a closer look at the map, and check on Cricket, too.

  I wasn’t overly stressed by the lack of cell phone reception, but I was definitely relieved that I’d had the foresight to call Ila a few hours back while I’d still been on the highway. When she’d answered the phone, she hadn’t been surprised about my sudden arrival at all. Her voice had been polished, with a trace of an English accent—or maybe it was Irish. We hadn’t talked long enough for me to figure it out. It was just a quick conversation about the directions to her cabin.

  Shutting off the engine, I opened the door, and then slid out of the truck. While I was stretching, Angus brushed by me in a rush to be free.

  Angus suddenly growled and I twisted to follow the direction of his stare. My jaw dropped.

  A hundred feet ahead on the right side of the road was a wooden fence. Not the usual post and rail enclosure that you’d expect to see on a mountain property, but a huge structure that stood more than ten feet tall. It was completely solid from top to bottom allowing no view of the other side. The boards were weathered, but in good repair. Incredibly, it stretched as far as I could see.

  My mind raced. Why would such a thing be way up here?

  I frowned and stared at the wooden wall. After a moment, I took a step closer to it. As I did, the hair on my arms went up. I quickly stepped backwards as if I’d been physically pushed. The hard thumping of my heart rose up uncomfortably into my throat, and I had the instinctual urge to turn and run away.

  Angus growled again and the black fur on his back stood straight up. Cricket shifted restlessly in the trailer, making little nickering noises in obvious agitation. The rumbling sound Angus was making came from a very deep place in his belly, and it continued to vibrate louder with each passing moment.

  “Are you getting the same creepy feeling I am?” I whispered to Angus as I stared at the wall that King Kong would have been hard pressed to get over.

  Angus barked once at me, the sound warming the chill in the air.

  “Maybe you sense a bear. Is that it?”

  Angus tilted his head and whined.

  A cloud passed over the sun, darkening the roadway for a moment. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. I shivered.

  “Guess we should be on our way, huh, boy?”

  Angus put his head against my legs, pushing me back toward the truck as an answer. We wasted no time jumping back into the truck. I turned the ignition key and was relieved that the engine burst to life quickly. The last thing I needed, on top of everything else, was to have the truck break down.

  After a couple more minutes of driving, the wall fell away from the road to allow for a driveway of sorts, and I noticed a solid wooden, vehicle-wide gate. There were several orange and black “No Trespassing” and “Do Not Enter” signs on it, and a hand-sized shiny metal lock that would definitely keep anyone from easily entering. Beyond the large doorway, I could just make out what appeared to be the top of a lookout tower. I couldn’t see anyone on it, but it was hard to tell with the trees. As we passed by the wooden entrance, my heart began pounding all over again and this time my forehead became slick with sweat.

  “Whoever lives in there must really like their privacy,” I muttered to myself.

  My eyes kept drifting to the odometer, and after I’d covered almost a mile distance, the wooden wall finally ended. My vital signs began to return to normal as the dust the truck was kicking up obscured the wall and it disappeared from sight. Air flowed smoothly back into my lungs and the hair on my arms settled once again. I wiped away the moisture from my face with a napkin, glad to have the wall behind me, but at the same time wondering why I’d reacted so strongly to it in the first place.

  The late afternoon sun was intense, sending sunbeams through the leaves that dappled the pitted road, making the world seem happy again. But I didn’t forget how the world had darkened beside the strange wall, the air becoming thick and still, and how quiet that stretch had been. The birds didn’t even want to sing there.

  Was I just flustered over my escape from home? Perhaps my imagination was on overdrive? Or was there really something to be feared living behind those thick, menacing boards?

  I drove on for another ten minutes, pressing the gas pedal harder than I probably should have, before finally reaching the two massive white trunked Sycamore trees that Aunt Ila had described as leading to her property. Despite their hulking size, their branches were long and delicate and they reached over the road to intertwine with each other. Beyond the twin trees, rustic looking rock walls stretched along both sides of the road. Even though the walls were broken in places, they were still impressive. The gaps were filled by smaller trees that had grown through the openings, and ivy scrambled over the rocks intermittently.

  For a short distance, the trees were incredibly thick, seeming to be wrestling one another for a spot along the driveway. The oppressive darkness beneath the leafy canopy made me feel more than a little claustrophobic, but just as quickly as the tangle of nature began, the trees thinned and the shade lifted to expose a sunny, beautiful green valley. The rock walls continued, but now on the right was a field of grass, peppered with cheerful white daisies. On the left, the trees were older and there was a lot more space between them. And to my amazement there was a group of deer lightly stepping between the massive trunks. They paused to glance my way as I drove by, and then returned to their meandering, ignoring the truck and trailer all together.

  The sudden glare of a silver tin roof blinded me and I had to shield my eyes with my hand in order to see again. The boards on the barn were old, but gave the impression of a solid and cozy structure for animals. The rock wall went right up to the barn, and grazing not too far away was a small herd of dairy goats. I quickly counted fourteen and they all stopped their munching to stare as we passed by. A few of them greeted us with hearty bleats and Angus stretched out the open window to return their curious looks with a bark, “Hello.”

  There were tan and red chickens pecking the ground in the barnyard and several rabbits hopping around in the grass among them. It was an unusual sight. Some of the rabbits were obviously domestic types with spotted fur and long, floppy ears, while others were ordinary wild rabbits.

  I quickly forgot about the strange mixture of rabbits though when I saw the cabin. It was facing the sunshine and all around it were flowers of every color, just as I had remembered it.

  Psalms 103:20

  Bless the Lord, you His angels, who excel in strength, who do His word.

  Ember ~ Six

  After I backed Cricket out of the trailer, I stood beside my horse and dog and looked across the valley. Anger and sadness had been a part of me for so long that the sudden feeling of contentment I was experiencing shocked me.

  “It’s your home now.”

  I jumped at her voice. Aunt Ila looked exactly as she had ten years ago, which flitted across my mind as odd, but I quickly let the thought go. Even though she was an old woman, she stood very straight and tall and her curly hair was a mixture of every shade of gray possible, pulled loosely back into a ponytail. She wore a long sleeved, button up white shirt that was tucked neatly into old-fashioned brown trousers. Her navy canvas tennis shoes were muddy and she was pulling dirt covered cotton gloves off of her slender fingers.

  She regarded me with open curiosity and I straightened up under her scrutiny, thinking that there was something very regal about her. And it wasn’t just the slight foreign accent.

  “I hope I didn’t startle you,” Aunt Ila said, the corners of her lips rising in a smile.

  I bristled with the realization that she w
as mocking me. The woman might have a grandmotherly look about her, but I wasn’t fooled. She definitely had a twisted sense of humor.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about it either.

  She knelt to the ground and rubbed Angus’ face, quietly talking to him. The dog didn’t have a problem with her. In fact, he licked her face and thumped his tail.

  Traitor, I thought.

  “His name is Angus,” I told her before she had a chance to ask.

  “A fine Irish name for a brave and intelligent dog.” She stood and walked over to Cricket, placing her hand in front of the mare’s face.

  “That’s Cricket,” I said briskly.

  Cricket breathed in Aunt Ila’s scent and then pressed her head to the woman’s chest, just as she’d done five years ago when she’d first met me.

  “This is a bonny mare and she has a strong spirit.” She eyed me over her shoulder. “You must be tired and hungry. Let’s get your horse into the field and you settled in for the night.”

  I followed her on a well-worn dirt path through the grass, leading both Cricket and Angus. She walked fast for an elderly woman and I had to stretch my legs just to keep up with her.

  “You can turn Angus loose,” Aunt Ila told me as she unlatched the gate.

  “Uh, do you think that’s a good idea with all the rabbits around?” The words had barely left my mouth when I noticed a ginger colored cat lounging on the wall. Her tail twitched in agitation at our approach. A glance down explained the cat’s distress. There were three fluffy kittens sleeping in a clump of clover at the base of the rocks. One looked the same as the mama, the other two were black. Angus got along with cats, but I would bet that he’d consider the rabbits as floppy-eared snacks.

  “He’ll be fine, my girl. Angus is smarter than you give him credit for. I’ve already told him that the rabbits and the other animals are my friends.”

  She told him that the rabbits were her friends. Was she playing with me? She sounded serious, but that would make her, putting it politely, completely insane.