The upshot was that this morning, none of Opal’s first day qualms had centered around whether Yara would retain her clients. And if worst came to worst and this foray into the modeling world turned out to be a disaster, Opal would seriously look at taking on more clients and partnering with the young woman.
As she dried the glass, her gaze drifted to the calendar she’d pinned by the phone. The pink heart circling this coming Thursday came abruptly into focus.
Her stomach pitched. Sera’s ninth birthday. And she’d completely forgotten? Shit! Guilt bit deep. She was the worst mother ever!
There was another notation by that date, too. She peered closer. A staff-only day when the school would be closed. Right. Okay, that made things easier. Hopefully Magda would remember Conrad had negotiated that as a leave day. But just to be sure, Opal grabbed her mobile and searched for Emilie’s number.
Hey Em, she texted.It’s my daughter’s birthday Thursday & her school’s closed. It crept up on me—worst mother ever! M knows I’ve got the day off, right? O.
The response came back within seconds. Quit worrying. I’ll remind M some of us actually have lives :)
TY!
So far so good. She should be able pull it together in time to organize a proper party. The main problem was who on earth to invite. It wasn’t like Sera got invited on play-dates, or ever wanted to have classmates over after school.
Or ever mentioned having any friends, either.
Opal pulled out a chair and sagged into it. God. How could she not have seen how isolated Sera had become? Lonely. Scared to open up to people her own age for fear of being hurt or betrayed.
Like mother, like daughter….
She propped her elbows on the table, and buried her face in her hands.
The cistern clanked as the toilet flushed, jerking her from despair. Sera was still awake? Okay, maybe that was a good thing. She stood, blotted her eyes, and put on her game face. Now to go try and make this right.
She jogged up the stairs, reaching Sera’s bedroom door just as Sera exited the bathroom. “H-H-Hey, sweetie. N-N-Need to ask y-y-you… s-s-something.”
Sera yawned and held up her arms—an invitation to be carried back to bed.
Opal scooped her up and cuddled her close.
“What d’you want to know, Mommy?”
“W-W-Who you’d… l-l-like to invite… t-t-to your b-b-birthday party. A-A-And what k-k-kind of c-c-cake and st-st-stuff. But if y-y-yyou’re too t-t-t-tired….”
Sera leaned back, blinking a little. And then her eyes rounded until she resembled a disheveled little owl. “I get to have a party?”
“Yes.” The guilt sliced deeper. Poor little chick, thinking her mom had forgotten all about her birthday.
“I want a cake with pink frosting, please.”
Opal smiled. Of course she did.
“And can we have pink lemonade? And strawberry ice cream?”
“Yes. Yes. A-A-And yes.”
Sera squealed. And squealed even more loudly when Opal dumped her on the bed and pretended to have been deafened. She scrambled to her knees and bounced some more. “And can I please invite Dan and Mr. Stone, and Max and Mickey? And Annie and Conrad, too, if they want to come. Please?”
Opal did her utmost not to reveal her dismay that there were no kids on that list. And that Danbur headed it. She didn’t want to disappoint Sera, and it was incredibly selfish to think of herself, but it was hardly appropriate to invite a man Opal had slept with—and was no longer on speaking terms with—to her daughter’s party. She would have to suck it up and have a word to Peter. If anyone could convince Danbur to make his excuses, Peter was the one to do it. “A-A-Anyone else?”
Sera screwed up her nose, thinking hard. And Opal had just begun to hope there might be some kids from class added to the list when Sera blurted, “Desiree, too.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t leave it alone. She had to push the point. “Wh-Wh-What about k-k-kids from… sch-sch-school?”
Sera’s smile died a quick death and she quit bouncing. Her lips formed a straight, mutinous line and she shook her head emphatically.
Way to go, Opal. First you almost forget your daughter’s birthday, now you’ve upset the hell out of her, too.
She watched silently as Sera scrambled beneath the covers, pulling them up to her chin. And Opal’s heart felt like it was shattering when her daughter reached for her toy fox and cuddled it tight.
She bent to press a kiss to Sera’s cheek. “Whoever y-y-you w-w-want, sweetie,” she whispered.
“Thanks, Mommy,” Sera whispered back. “You’re the best mommy in the whole world.”
Not even close, Opal thought, as she quietly left the room. Not even close. She’d been so tied up in her own dramas that, aside from relief Sera’s asthma seemed to have markedly improved, she’d glossed over Sera’s ongoing problems connecting with kids her own age. But she would try and do better. And a good start would be getting to the bottom of what was going on at school. Now all she had to do was pluck up the guts to ring Sera’s teacher.
But first things first. She had invitations to send out—make that text out. Like, now, before certain people found other places to be on Thursday and Sera’s party was a bust before it got off the ground. She had to brainstorm the perfect gift for Sera, too. And, strangely, that was far more difficult now money wasn’t tight. So much for an early night.
~~~
The phone, a wondrous device that allowed people to speak to each other across great distances, shrilled insistently. Danbur picked up the receiver and, as Pieter had shown him, waited for the caller to speak.
“Danbur.” The Crystal Guardian’s almost hypnotic voice filled the room. “I won’t be back in time to collect Sera from the bus stop. Would you be so kind as to meet her off the bus?”
“Of course.” Danbur’s spirits lifted at the prospect. Without the Crystal Guardian looking warily on, Danbur was free to revel in the joy that being with Sera brought him. He, and only he, would bask in Sera’s smiles when she exited the bus.
Sera’s smiles were precious to Danbur, and it irked him to share them with Pieter. If that made him selfish, then so be it. Pieter might have a vested interest in the child—even some abiding affection for her—but to the Crystal Guardian, Sera was ultimately a complication. He wasn’t connected to her, like Danbur was connected. He couldn’t know her, like Danbur knew her. And he couldn’t love the little girl as deeply as Danbur had grown to love her.
He realized that Pieter had disconnected the call and carefully replaced the receiver in its cradle. His gaze sought the timepiece hanging on the wall of the living area and he translated the numerals into something meaningful, as Pieter—again—had coached him to do.
If he left now he would arrive far too early. And although he’d seen a number of black-skinned people amongst the natives of this area, still he was very aware that he stood out and was noticed wherever he went. During his encounter with Pieter at the park, for instance, the other adults had closely observed Danbur’s interactions with Sera. It had taken some time for them to relax and accept him in the role of her companion. His presence at the school bus stop might be acceptable when he was accompanied by Pieter, but it could be remarked upon—even challenged—if he were to linger there too long on his own. He could ill afford to come to the attention of this world’s authorities, and he balked at risking what little freedom he had remaining before the crystal took him again.
He’d opened the sheaf of bound papers—the magazine—Pieter had left for him, and was idly leafing through the glossy colored pictures, when a muddle of strong emotions pulsed through the bond he shared with Sera. He closed his eyes, concentrating.
Dismay. Unhappiness. Shame…. And fear.
Danbur was on his feet and striding from the room before he was fully aware of moving.
As he strode down the path toward the bus stop, his right hand rhythmically clenched and relaxed, unconsciously seeking his sword. Whoever wa
s foolish enough to torment Sera would soon wish they had never been born.
The walk cleared his mind, allowing him to detach somewhat from Sera’s emotions and think logically. ’Twas unlikely that adults would be the source of Sera’s fear. Danbur knew from querying Sera that the only adult on the bus would be the driver, and once the bus left the school grounds it was up to the driver to maintain discipline. Meaning lots of kids misbehaved and did “dumb stuff”, according to Sera.
Logic dictated whatever plan he formulated had to be aimed at dissuading other children from treating Sera poorly. And, since he had but three more days remaining as Sera’s protector, any action he took needed to have long-lasting effects.
He sat on the bench at the bus stop, musing how best to proceed. Striplings were easy to handle. A mentor had only to batter commonsense into them until it finally “took” and lodged permanently in their brains. Of course it behooved a mentor to handle younger boys with a little more finesse, else they grew up fearing to step out of line or speak up for themselves. Girls, however….
Danbur shook his head. Girls could be cruel and capricious little creatures. It mattered not whether their victim be male or female, their taunts could crush a young one’s spirit easily as a battle mount’s hoof could crush a carelessly placed foot. When Danbur been a stripling, trying to find his place in the world, the barbs he had witnessed various vicious-tongued girls casting at those who displeased them could have shredded even a god’s self-worth. With luck he would only be dealing with brutish, loud-mouthed little boys.
He folded his arms across his chest, and waited.
The bus chugged around the corner, slowed, and eased up to the curb. The doors swooshed open. Her head down, Sera negotiated the steps with far too much haste for Danbur’s peace of mind, almost tripping over her feet. He was up in a flash, lunging to scoop her into his arms before she fell and injured herself. He had a moment to register her tear-smeared face and hiccupping sobs before two boys exited.
To Danbur’s surprise, the larger of the two approached him. And even dared to speak. “It got pretty ugly in there,” the boy said, thrusting out his lower lip, determined to have his say. And Danbur was hard put not to stare at the large pustule on the tip of his nose.
“One of the Bunnies heard Sera telling Ms Rees ’bout how her mom was gonna be a famous model. They reckon she’s lying and boasting to get attention and stuff. So after school they sicced a bunch of wannabe Bunnies on her.” He jerked his chin at Sera, who had buried her face in Danbur’s shoulder. “They been saying some real mean stuff about how her mom must be real ugly and modeling, like, for the zoo or something ’coz Sera’s, like, a four-eyed ginger monkey. They videoed it all on their phones.”
Danbur narrowed his gaze. “Tell me who they are.”
“Them.” The boy pointed to a trio of giggling, whispering girls who’d just exited the bus. “They’ve been real mean to Sera. We had to tell someone, ya know?”
“Thank you,” Danbur said. “You should go now.”
The boy gulped and eyed his smaller companion—who also sported a painful-looking pustule on his nose. It was clear they both desired to stay and witness the encounter.
“On second thoughts,” he said, “remain and bear witness.” There could be no harm in these boys being rewarded for speaking up in Sera’s defense.
The trio of girls snickered at the boys. One of them deliberately swung her schoolbag at them as she passed by. She was a girl of about Sera’s age, dressed in tight short pants and a t-shirt that bared her belly. And, if Danbur wasn’t mistaken, she was wearing cosmetics. “What’s your problem, d-bag?” she asked.
Danbur knew the question had been directed at the boy who’d been carrying tales of their behavior, but it suited him to willfully misunderstand. “Are you talking to me?” he asked.
She blinked, seeming to register his presence for the first time. Shock skated across her face. “Um, no,” she said, edging closer to her friends.
Danbur stared at her, stony-faced.
She gulped and muttered, “Sir.”
“I would speak to you three regarding your regrettable behavior toward a friend of mine,” Danbur said, catching and holding each girl’s gaze. “Sit.” He pointed to the bench seat.
Three pairs of eyes rounded.
“Now.”
Three lower lips wobbled.
“Now,” Danbur said again, pitching his voice even more softly, which he knew would increase the underlying menace. ’Twas a technique he’d learned well from Malach, his former tehun-Leader. And this time the girls scrambled to do as he bid.
“Everything all right?” the bus driver called.
“Everything is fine.” Danbur didn’t turn, merely raised his voice so it would be heard over the rumbling of the engine. “I am showing these young ladies what happens when they do not respect others, and choose to treat them unkindly.”
“Good,” the driver said. “’Bout time. If you don’t mind an audience I’ll stick around.”
“As you wish.” Danbur no longer cared if he attracted attention. Sera’s wellbeing was more important.
He heard the engine sputter and die as he placed Sera carefully on her feet. He kept hold of her hand, and she clutched him as though her life depended on it. “Are these the girls who made you feel ashamed and afraid?” he asked.
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes. B-B-But the Bunnies made them do it, Dan.”
Ah, his little Sera would make any father proud. Even now, faced with her tormentors, she concerned herself with their welfare. He waved away her concerns. “They had a choice, did they not? They could have refused to take part. And now they must face the consequences of their decision to torment you.”
One of the girls started to cry.
“Stop blubbering,” Danbur told her. “You are not the victim, here. You have no cause to cry.”
The middle girl ducked her head.
“Look at me,” Danbur said. “Better still, look at Sera. Witness the pain you have caused her and imagine yourself in her place.”
The girl sniffled. “Everyone’s staring at us!” she wailed.
“Good. I understand you all….” He paused to recall the correct word. “Videoed your taunts and planned to humiliate Sera further. Is this correct?”
One by one they nodded.
“This will not be tolerated.” He swiveled to level a direct gaze at the bus’s passengers and raised his voice again. “And I highly recommend any pictures and suchlike that have been taken of my friend Sera Stewart are destroyed… unless you would all prefer me to hunt you down, one by one, and destroy them for you.” Not that he had the slightest clue how to do make such a thing happen but they couldn’t know that.
His threat had an immediate effect on the two boys standing nearby. They fished their phones from their pockets and started swiping their fingers over the screens and pressing buttons. Excellent.
“You heard the man,” the bus driver said to his passengers. “Better delete all the vids of the little girl, here. Or I might have to inform your principal it’s come to my attention the kids on this here bus downloaded illegal porn. That’ll get your phones confiscated, I imagine.”
Confiscated? Even better.
Danbur jabbed a finger at the shorts-clad girl. “You. Throw me your phone.”
She held it out, obviously expecting him to take it.
If he took the girls’ phones it would doubtless be videoed by a number of children—perhaps even shown to adults who would take umbrage. “Throw it here,” he told her.
And when she complied, he made no effort to catch it. Her horror as the phone smacked face down on the pavement and bounced before coming to rest was very satisfying indeed.
Danbur had witnessed on more than one occasion how attached the people of this world—adult and child alike—were to these small, magical devices. Mickey had even shown Danbur a recording of Danbur performing a sword kata that she’d taken on her ph
one. He felt confident this would be an interlude these girls would not forget in a hurry.
“You next,” he told the middle girl, who still wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. He waited until she’d tossed her shiny pink phone on the ground. And then he stared at the third girl, who’d stopped crying but now appeared even more stricken. “You know what to do,” he said.
She, too, threw her phone on the ground.
“You have treated Sera poorly,” he told them. “She was not boasting. She merely wanted to celebrate the exciting news about her mother’s good fortune with her teacher. If you’d cared to ask her, she might have shared it with you, too. And if you knew anything at all about Sera, you would know that she doesn’t lie. Unlike the girls who asked you to do this—these Bunnies. So I have a message for you to take back to the Bunnies. Girls who are cruel and mean and spiteful don’t always win. Sometimes the humiliation they heap on others comes back to bite them.”
“Yeah,” the shorter of the two boys who stood watching said.
“In the ass,” the taller one agreed.
Danbur darted them an assessing glance, and hid his smile at the unholy delight in their eyes as they watched the three girls who’d bullied Sera getting their comeuppance.
He focused again on the girls. “Repeat what I said, please. ‘Girls who are cruel and mean and spiteful don’t always win. Sometimes the humiliation they heap on others comes back to bite them.’”
They dutifully repeated his words.
“Good.” Now for the end-game. “Stand up,” he told the girls. “And listen very carefully to my instructions. Once this is done, you may go.”
Three hopeful faces gazed up at him.
“Each of you will walk over to your phone and grind your heel into it. Stamp on your phone. Jump up and down on it. I want to hear things smashing and breaking. Do you understand?”
Opal's Wish: Book Four of The Crystal Warriors Series Page 25