Letting her legs dangle from the porch and catch the warm rays of the sun, Catherine watched intently as a raven landed at her feet. Slowly it crept closer, until it was perched right next to her on the porch. It appeared to be looking at a red terracotta flower pot that contained fennel seeds. Catherine grabbed a handful and held her palm out for the bird to eat. Cautiously the bird’s beak snapped up a few of the seeds and swallowed them.
“You have a gentle way about you,” said a boy’s voice.
Catherine, startled by the voice, jumped a little, breaking her eye contact with the bird. A strange boy with blond hair, wire glasses, and an innocent look was standing less than ten feet in front of her, though she hadn’t noticed him arrive.
“You startled me.”
“It wasn’t my intention.”
Catherine looked at him for a moment, taking him in.
“I’m Bernie. I live right over there,” the boy said, pointing at the ramshackle cottage further down the road.
“I’m Catherine.”
“You’re Mrs. Westfeld’s granddaughter,” Bernie observed.
“I am.”
The boy watched as the raven took more fennel seed from Catherine’s hand.
“Mysterious creatures, ravens. Don’t you think?”
“Definitely beautiful,” agreed Catherine.
“And intelligent. Did you know that the Celts believed the ravens were secret keepers?”
“I’ve always heard that they were harbingers of doom, a precursor to death.”
“I like my story better. More pleasant. Go ahead tell it a secret. He’ll keep it safe.”
“Okay.”
Catherine bent down to the bird, whispering softly to it as it perched quietly next to her. Bernie watched as she smiled at the bird, face turning pink with delight. When she was done speaking to the bird, it fluffed its thick ebony wings and flew off into the blue sky above.
Suddenly, a screen door crashed open in the distance. A man dressed in denim overalls and a stained white shirt came on to the porch, a look of hostility clear on his face.
“Boy!” he growled. “Where’d you get off to?!”
Bernard, looking afraid and embarrassed, scrambled off the ground.
“Is that your father?” asked Catherine.
Bernard replied in an angry voice, “My stepfather Ernest. My real dad died a long time ago.”
“Bernard! Get your sorry ass in this house right now! Don’t make me come after you!”
Bernie, clearly embarrassed, turned to Catherine.
“I have to go,” he told her dismally.
Catherine watched as the boy ran to the ill-kempt house. As he reached the porch, she saw Ernest Finkle grab the back of Bernie’s shirt and push him in the house as shouting and swearing poured out of the windows, disrupting the serene calm of the countryside.
At the noise, Grandma Westfeld came rushing out of the house to Catherine’s side.
“Make me a promise girl,” she urged.
Catherine looked at her grandmother, a worried look taking over her features.
“Do not get involved with that boy. He is nothing but trouble.”
* * *
Jack would never forget the first time Catherine’s spoiled, rich girl persona was shattered, and he learned who she really was. Jack was at his locker after eighth period in junior year. He had just gotten out of detention for chewing gum in class, and he was trying to collect his books before going home. After grabbing several text books, and his three-ring binder, he slammed his metal locker shut with a bang. He heard the ominous clicking of high heeled shoes hitting the cold, marble floor. “Shit!” he exclaimed under his breath, fully expecting Vice Principal Burlanker to come swooping around the corner. But then the clicking became louder, faster. With a perplexed look on his face, he peered around the corner, staying out of sight in the shadow of the dark hallway.
Catherine was rushing down the hallway, textbooks weighing down her arms, legs moving as fast as they could. She kept looking behind her nervously, eyes wild and afraid. From the far end of the hall, Bernard Kendricks was chasing after her.
“Catherine, it was a joke!” he shouted after her.
“It was a sick joke!”
“I was just kidding! Honest!”
“No you weren't! Stay away from me!” she commanded.
Catherine was running as fast as she could down the hall, approaching where Jack stood hidden in the dark at an alarming rate. Kendricks, reaching the end of his patience, grew red-faced and enraged.
“Get back here, girl!”
“No!”
Jack watched as the fear in Catherine's eyes began to give way to tears. Kendricks was right behind her now, reaching for her arm. A fury rose within Jack, none like he had ever experienced before. He lunged from the dark corner and came between Catherine and Kendricks, startling Catherine half to death. Jack stared at Kendricks’ face as an expression of deep malice and discontent formed on Kendricks’ face, causing Jack's upper lip to snarl upwards in distaste. Jack steadied his jaw as he lessened the distance between himself and the self-righteous prat who stood before him.
“Problem?” Jack demanded, attitude clear in his voice.
“Mind your business, Morrow! This has nothing to do with you.”
“Sorry, no. I witness you chasing a screaming girl down the hallway. That makes it my business.”
“Get your nose out of my business!”
“Catherine,” Jack said, “Go home, I'll make sure he doesn't bother you anymore.”
Catherine gave Jack a shocked look nodded and rushed through the double doors into the stairwell that led to the school yard. Jack waited until the door slammed behind her to turn his face back to Kendricks.
“What the hell is your problem?” Jack shouted.
“She is mine. Keep your hands off of her.”
“I think you're the one who needs to keep your hands off. Chasing her down a hallway like some psycho.”
“Call me psycho again! See what happens,” threatened Kendricks.
Jack tilted his head as a devilish smirk slowly appeared across his face. Shrugging his shoulders, he let the word come off his tongue again. He couldn't help it. Kendricks was entirely too easy to bait.
“Psycho.”
Rage exploded from Kendricks, as if someone had flipped a switch. His right arm wound up into a fist, pummeling forward fast, intent upon knocking Jack's teeth clear out of his mouth. Jack, seeing it coming, grabbed Kendricks’ oncoming fist with his right hand pushing it upwards, as his left shoved Kendricks’ jaw upward with a snap. Quickly, Jack pushed his weight in against his attacker, arm across his chest, holding him against the wall.
“Think you're gonna hit me?! Think again!”
“Get off of me!” pleaded Kendricks.
“Leave her alone, or you'll have me to deal with.”
All traces of amusement were removed from Jack's face as Kendricks tried to wriggle himself out of Jack's grasp. Jack stared at his foe with an intensity that could not be escaped. Finally, Kendricks stopped moving. When Jack determined he was calm enough he let him go, and he watched as Kendricks weaseled his way down the hallway through the same double doors that Catherine had entered just moments before.
Heart racing, Jack grabbed his book bag off the marble floor and slung it over his shoulder with a huff. Slowly, he pushed open the often-used double doors and walked through. He was about to walk down the steep stairway when a soft voice called his name from the third floor landing. It was Catherine. She looked less stressed now, less scared. Her hair, once in a high bun atop her head now hung in strands around her face, frizzy and unkempt. Jack stood perfectly still, surprised at her presence. He stared as she walked down the stairs towards him, an expression of relief on her face.
“I just want to thank you for sticking up for me. I'm quite used to dealing with him myself.”
“He shouldn't be chasing after you or yelling at you like that.”
&n
bsp; “He is mad at me because he wanted people to think I was his girlfriend.”
This surprised Jack. He had automatically assumed that the two were an item. Trying to lighten the mood, Jack let out a smirk.
“Yeah, I wouldn't go out with him either.”
Catherine chuckled.
“My grandmother doesn't like him much. Actually threatened to get a restraining order on him if he doesn't stop calling the house 80 times a night, but I talked her out of it.”
“Maybe you should let her,” Jack suggested.
Catherine knew he was right, but stayed silent.
“You should be careful with him... He's got a temper. I’ve known him a long time, and he is not all there,” Jack warned Catherine. “And he's not one to try and keep a cool head.”
“Thanks again, Jack,” said Catherine as she looked up to him, momentarily glancing into his eyes. “Would you mind giving me a ride home?”
“Sure, though I don't think he'll be bothering you much from now on.”
“I hope not,” Catherine responded.
As they made their way down the stair well, Catherine grabbed Jack's hand and didn't let go. Hiding in the shadows of the school court yard, Bernard watched the pair, his face scowling with deep contempt as the girl he spent his nights fawning over walked away, hand-in-hand, with the boy who bested him in everything. In that moment, Bernard Kendricks’ obsession was born.
Chapter Eleven
Nostalgia
Morrow Manor
Fox Hollow, PA
October 8, 1997
Jack’s Point of View
“In order to understand any story,” began Jack, “you have to start at the beginning. If I were to tell you what happened with Catherine, without providing some back history, you would have a million questions. So the beginning doesn't start on the day she was born, or on the day we started going out. The beginning is marked as the day Catherine came to town.”
“She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She was the daughter of some big-wig executive of the Philadelphia Museum of Modern Arts. Her mother came from old money. Catherine’s grandfather was the president of some oil refinery in Delaware. Catherine and her mother did not see eye to eye… on anything. From what I was told, life was not easy for Catherine under her mother's rule. She could be very cold and controlling, only praising or lavishing attention upon her when she did exactly as she was told. Her mother, unlike her father, did not appreciate the fine arts, and discouraged Catherine from creative expression, even when it was used as an outlet. Even as a young girl, she wasn't well. She was diagnosed with depression at the young age of twelve. Catherine’s mother had her hospitalized for a month when she was thirteen when she refused to come out of her room and take a break from her art work. Her mother told the doctors that she was talking to herself. To the day she died, Catherine denied this story adamantly.”
“When her mother couldn't deal with her anymore, she shipped her off to her mother-in-law's house in Gabbard's Bend, where she would remain until she moved in here, after we were married. For the first three years, she was homeschooled by Ernestine, her grandmother, according to her mother's request, but when she entered the tenth grade, Ernestine found the work too hard, and Catherine was interested in making new friends, so she enrolled her at Steeplechase. She spent her first year at school largely ignoring me. She was real chummy with Kendricks and his group of friends at first, and she made it clear that I was much too uncivilized for their brand of conversation. At this point in time, Kendricks and I largely ignored each other. We dealt in different circles. He was too scrawny for the football club, and I couldn’t care less about the chess club. We moved in different circles; we just had eyes for the same girl.”
“Then, at the start of junior year, something happened, and Kendricks had fallen out of her good graces. Now instead of charming glances, she gave him dark looks out of the corner of her eye. Meanwhile, he sat sullen in class, his smug look wiped away. Now it was me who she peered at in class with charged glances. We became a couple just a few days into term, and I had gained myself an enemy.”
Jack reached for the first projector slide, as Adam dimmed the lights. Adam knew most of what was coming; he had lived through it. Liam and Tommy did too, but they were too young to remember. Adam did worry about how his brothers would react. Before him, the screen came to life, flickering memories from before Adam's own time. Stony Field, Steeplechase's football field, flickered upon the makeshift screen.
Angus stood on the edge of the metal bleachers with a Jeff cap adorning his head and a cigar hanging off his lip. Next to him, a much younger Moira, with flowing waves of red hair and horn-rimmed glasses, stood beside him, cheering her son on in the Thanksgiving football game vs. St. Bart's Prep. On the bleacher next to them sat two girls - one, an older girl of about sixteen years of age with black hair and blue eyes, and another with bright red hair, braces, and freckles aplenty, who appeared to be around ten years of age. Angus leaned down to the red haired girl and said, "Clap for Jack, Bridgette! There he is!"
Bridgette leaned towards the dark haired girl, and pointed out her brother, in his scarlet helmet and gray football jersey. "There he is, Catherine!" she yelled, clapping excitedly with the crowd. Jack, then seventeen, was being herded off of the field along with his teammates. The Mustangs had just won their fifth consecutive Turkey Bowl against the St. Bart's Falcons, and it was thanks to a successful pass from quarterback Frank Kilpatrick to wide receiver Jack Morrow. Frank and Jack celebrated with Jack's family.
Angus leaned in towards Frank who now towered over him and said, "Laddy! How tall are ya know? Six-two? Six-three?"
Frank, still out of breath from playing, laughed and said proudly, "Coach measured me in at six-five."
Bridgette giggled behind her mother as she stuck her tongue out at Frank. Behind them, Catherine ran to give Jack a hug, as spectators on the bench looked on. One of them, a thin, blond-haired boy stared with deep discontent. Catherine noticed, and whispered to Jack, "Come on! Bernard is staring again." Jack looked back to see Kendricks on the bleachers giving him and Catherine a loathsome glare. Jack smirked at the boy as he walked off with Catherine.
The scene faded, and now a graduation ceremony in Cedar Hall was flickering brightly on the wall. A sea of students in scarlet robes were sitting in metal folding chairs atop a large stage. One by one, the students were being called to receive their diplomas, followed by polite applause.
"Sandra Johnson!"
"Bernard Kendricks!"
"James Kerr!"
"Francis Kilpatrick!"
At the announcement of Frank Kilpatrick’s name, the polite applause that had been afforded to others increased in volume and intensity. Most people simply clapped because Frank was the school's star quarterback, but his father in the back of the auditorium was happiest of all. He stood up and clapped boisterously from the second row. "It's about time, Frankie!" Eamon Kilpatrick yelled, with a deep Scottish brogue. Frank walked across the stage with a big smile on his face. He collected his diploma before taking his seat again.
"Kimberly Leaman!"
"Christina Monti!"
"Andrew Morris!"
"Jacob Morrow!"
The same polite applause that was given to the other students was accorded to Jack. He confidently crossed the stage and collected his diploma, then took his seat with a smirk as the names continued. When finally Catherine Westfeld had received her diploma, the recession march had begun to play and the overjoyed students flooded from the stage into four separate aisles as the scene on the projection faded again.
Light blinded the projector screen as the morning glare reflected off of the freshly laid snow on the ground. Catherine, dressed in white from head to toe, stepped onto the deck of her grandmother's thatched cottage. In her elegant satin white wedding gown with box pleats and a sweetheart neckline, she looked radiant and stunning. Her black hair, pulled up in a sleek French chignon adorned with a sprig of baby b
reath, stood out in stunning contrast against her white formal attire. Catherine walked delicately over the freshly laid snow, and with each step moved gingerly across the frozen earth. A bright red horse-drawn sleigh, pulled by a black draft horse waited for Catherine to take her to the church. Ernestine, who was dressed elegantly in a dark green long-sleeved gown, helped her granddaughter into a fur cape that protected her skin from the cool winter air. Angus came out of the house, and helped Catherine into the sleigh as they rode off together. While other cars skidded in the ice and snow, Catherine and Angus glided gracefully across the land.
The camera faded out on the sleigh’s departure and refocused on the front of St. Augustine's church. The only people from Catherine’s family to attend the wedding was Grandma Westfeld and her boyfriend Sam. Catherine had invited her family but because her mother declined, the others followed suit.
The gray stone church was adorned with a white wreath on its blue door, organ music flowing out of the church meeting the cool crisp air in harmony as two white-gloved men open the doors of the church, allowing Catherine and Angus in. The church was filled with guests, mostly from Jack's side. At the front of the church, the wedding party waited with Jack taking center stage with Frank by his side. The camera zoomed in on Jack's face, showing his nervous smile. As Pachelbel’s “Canon in D" played through the church, the camera panned out and faded once again.
When the camera refocused, a birthday party was well underway. The date stamp on the projector flashed June 3, 1976 at the bottom of the screen. Jack was standing over a small boy in a high chair in the kitchen of the Morrow house. A red balloon was attached to his highchair. Catherine was walking towards him with a chocolate cupcake that had a candle shaped like the number one on top, unlit. Bridgette, now sixteen, was standing excitedly next to Jack. She ran her fingers through the boy’s hair, and squealed, "Happy Birthday, Adam!"
Shadow Dancer (The Shadow Series Book 1) Page 14