Agents of Shadow (The Keepers of White Book 1)

by Richard Crofton

  “Work from home, mostly,” Mr. Dawkins replied, “investing.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “Not really. I just acquired a knack for it.”

  “Well it must be good money,” Penny commented. “Sure beats babysitting.”

  “Nothing wrong with babysitting, Penny,” Mr. Dawkins counseled.

  “No,” she agreed, “I love watching Terri. I get to do a lot of activities with her. I’ve been working on her numbers, shapes, and ABC’s. I guess it’s like teaching; only I don’t work with a whole class of students.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll teach one day too.”

  Penny grunted a short laugh. “I would have to get a college degree to do that. That’s something I can’t afford.” She momentarily pondered the thought of furthering her education. If only, she wondered. “Do you need a degree to be a teacher?”

  Mr. Dawkins nodded.

  “So you went to college, AND you’re already on a second career?” There was disbelief in her tone. “How old are you?”

  Mr. Dawkins now gave a laughing grunt but didn’t reply.

  Penny took a good look at the man sitting at the kitchen chair next to Terri. “Well, you look like you’re about twenty-five.”

  He smirked again, still focused on Terri and her lunch. “I’m older than that, but thank you for the compliment.”

  “How older?”

  “Let’s just say I’m older than twenty-five, younger than forty.”

  Terri was nearly finished her sandwich. She took another sip of her strawberry milk. After putting the cup back down, she began humming the song again.

  Penny couldn’t fight her curiosity any longer: “So do you mind if I ask your first name, Mr. Dawkins?”

  The man hesitated again, then he eventually looked up from the plate and directly at Penny. He seemed to peer into her with those eyes, almost studying her, but only for a brief second. “Michael,” he revealed, “but I prefer Mr. Dawkins.”

  “All done!” Terri announced. “Down?”

  “What do you say?” Penny asked the girl expectantly.

  “Down, peas?”

  “Please,” she corrected Terri’s speech, hoping to impress their guest. “Yes, go ahead sweetie. You can watch T.V. now if you’d like.”

  “Ok,” Terri agreed, and hopped down from her booster seat, running off to the living room. She continued humming her song as she hurried away.

  Penny watched and waiting for Terri to push the “On” button on the remote control. The television came to life, already set on the Nick Jr. channel, on which a familiar cartoon consisting of two rabbit siblings named Max and Ruby displayed on the screen. Terri sat on the couch, immediately and completely captured by the show. Then she spoke more quietly to Mr. Dawkins; “Do you think she’ll be alright after everything that’s happened?”

  The man watched the girl sitting contently on the tan sofa in her own little world. “She’ll be fine,” he answered. “She’s already forgotten it for the most part, and life will go on as usual.”

  Penny reflected on everything that had happened, and looked down at the tiled kitchen floor. “I can’t believe she almost died,” she said softly with regret. “I should’ve been there. If you didn’t show up…” Her words broke up as the reality of what could have been sunk in. “How could I ever work with children? I can’t even take care of one little girl.”

  The man named Dawkins said nothing, only turned his attention to the young woman sitting next to him. Penny took a deep breath to get a hold of herself. “What was that song you were singing to her? When you were sitting with her out by the pool when we were drying her off?”

  “It’s an oldie,” he replied, “called ‘Pretty Little Angel Eyes.’”

  “She may have forgotten what happened, but she sure remembers that. She keeps humming it to herself.” Dawkins nodded. Then Penny added quietly, “How did you do it?”

  “Do what?” Dawkins asked innocently.

  “Calm her down like you did,” Penny clarified. “You were holding her hands and whispered to her to close her eyes; then you started singing that song. It didn’t take long before she stopped crying. She even stopped shaking. How did you do it?”

  “It was just a simple soothing technique I learned,” the man shrugged. “Nothing to it.”

  “I can’t believe it worked,” Penny went on. “I can’t stop shaking after what happened, and I wasn’t the one who fell in the pool. I just can’t get the thought out of my head that she almost drowned. It was all my fault. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.” Penny tried to fight the tears that were building in her eyes.

  Mr. Dawkins watched her sympathetically. “I can show you what I did,” he said softly. “Let me try the technique on you.” Penny looked at him doubtfully. “It’s ok,” he assured her. “It’s just a simple relaxation trick I learned when I studied martial arts.”

  “Martial arts?” Penny asked quizzically. “Isn’t that a lot of fighting?”

  “It also consists of a lot of meditating and breathing to control your heart rate and adrenaline, depending on the type of martial arts you study. Martial arts is really about balance and self control. Here,” he held out his hands to her, “take my hands. I’ll show you.”

  Penny didn’t give him her hands right away. She only looked at his, then at him. “You seem to know a lot of things, Mr. Dawkins,” she said.

  The man smiled, still holding out his hands. “Well, there’s really nothing to this, you know.”

  “It seemed amazing to me, how you made her calm down.”

  “Nothing amazing about it,” Mr. Dawkins shrugged.

  “Really?” she asked with skepticism. Penny thought she saw two unbelievable feats performed by this man. The first was that Terri was no longer pale and lifeless when she returned with the blanket to the pool area. She thought for sure the girl was dead when she left to retrieve it, but when she returned, that same girl was full of life. The second was how quickly the man brought Terri from a state of fear and pain to one of peace, just by holding her hands and singing. It was uncanny to her that the stranger was downplaying both events.

  Mr. Dawkins explained in response to Penny’s hesitant tone; “It’s very easy to do. You can do it to calm yourself down after I show you how.” Penny listened with interest as he continued. “Have you ever been told to count to ten slowly when you were angry?”

  “Sure,” she nodded.

  “It’s pretty much the same concept as that, only more finely tuned. It’s not really the counting that helps calm you down; it’s the slowing down your breathing as you count. You just don’t realize that you’re pacing your breathing because you’re focusing on counting. Only in this case, we’re going to do more than just count.”

  “Are we going to sing?” Penny asked sarcastically.

  “No,” Dawkins smiled patiently, “because you’re not three years old.”

  The young woman smirked, then slowly placed her hands on top of the man’s, eying him with curiosity. “Okay Penny,” he said, “now close your eyes.”

  Penny felt better already. She was no longer shaking, and barely feeling as terrible as she had moments before about Terri. She almost told Mr. Dawkins that she didn’t need to try this calming technique after all, but for some reason she didn’t. His instructions to her seemed rather commanding, not in a forceful way, but in a way that made it feel easier if she just obeyed. She gently gripped his hands and let her eyelids shut.

  “Alright,” Mr. Dawkins spoke very soothingly, “now the first thing I want you to do is breathe slowly. Three seconds in through your nose, and four seconds out of your mouth. Don’t time it, just let it happen. Focus on the breathing; nothing else.”

  Penny followed the man’s directions and started breathing slowly. She let the air fill her lungs as the warmth of his hands began to radiate into her. It was a comfortable feeling, and she kept the rhythm of air passing in and out of her.

  “Not like
that,” the man said abruptly but still soothingly, “your shoulders are moving up and down. You’re bringing the air into your chest. Instead, focus on expanding your diaphragm. Your stomach, not your chest should expand.”

  “Sorry,” she said quietly.

  “It’s okay,” Dawkins assured her. “Don’t talk either, or you’ll break your concentration. All we’re doing is meditating, so talking tends to disrupt the focus.”

  Penny obeyed and focused on breathing again. She willed her diaphragm to do the work, and soon her shoulders were relaxed.

  “That’s it,” Dawkins continued. “We tend to breathe incorrectly. Proper breathing consists of using our diaphragms. Not many people realize this, and breathing the wrong way can cause stress. Whenever you feel stressed, you can do this on your own to relax. Just remember to breathe the right way. Since I’m with you and we’re doing this together, I’m going to breathe with you. Just clear your thoughts and continue.”

  For what seemed like an eternity, but in reality only half a minute, the man was silent. He simply held Penny’s hands, letting the warmth build. She could hear his breath in unison with her own, and for a moment, she felt like he wasn’t there at all, that the warmth and control of the meditation was her own.

  It was when Mr. Dawkins spoke again that Penny remembered she wasn’t alone: “Inhale; exhale. Now focus on the air outside and around you, not just the air that you’re breathing. Feel the air between your toes. Let it flow up your legs; down your arms; in between our fingertips. The air is clean and cooling. It’s gentle and safe. Feel it run like a stream up and down your back. There is nothing but the air. Block out all noise. You will no longer hear the T.V. or the wind outside; only your breath.”

  Penny kept breathing. She could feel every little wisp of air, even between the thin hairs of her arms as she cleared her head. She thought she felt dizzy for a moment, but also weightless. She started to wonder if she was about to have an out-of-body experience. Would she float above and look down to see herself and the man at the kitchen table? It was a strange feeling, but she enjoyed its peaceful grasp on her.

  “Clear your head,” the man instructed, almost as if he actually knew she had started to think… almost as if he could read her mind. “Don’t let your thoughts wander. No thought at all, only air.” She refocused on their breathing. She felt her head empty itself of all concerns and doubts.

  “Good,” Mr. Dawkins breathed as he spoke. He allowed her to breathe with him for another half minute of eternity. Then he continued: “I’m going to count down from ten. When I get to one, you will hear nothing. The outside noises will stop. Your breathing will continue, but you won’t hear it either. The only thing you’ll hear will be my voice.”

  The man counted down slowly, softly, and rhythmically. With each number, she seemed to feel everything fading away. She felt like she was dissipating and reforming in another place, but going nowhere. There was warmth in her hands and cool refreshment filling her whole body. She had never felt so placid.

  When the man’s voice, somehow distant sounding yet clear, reached the number one, it happened. She heard and saw nothing. Not dark nor bright, just peaceful emptiness of all outside annoyances and distraction. Everything was clear in her mind. There was no past, present, or future. There was only this space that was her mind and body. The man began speaking to her after he finished counting down. With each word, the man’s voice created a serenity within her that seemed almost tangible.

  “Can you hear me Penny?” Dawkins asked her gently. “You can answer me now, without any fear of ending the meditation.”

  “Yes,” the young woman replied in a hypnotic and monotone manner.

  “Good, now I’m going to ask you a few questions. Go back to the incident with Terri and the pool. Can you go back there?

  There was no answer at first, but then Penny’s face somewhat lit up. “Yes,” she announce, “I’m there.”

  “Do you remember what happened? Do you remember finding Terri in the pool?”

  Penny’s voice heightened to a more frantic volume and tone: “Yes… she’s drowning! Oh God!”

  “Can you see Terri in the pool now?”

  “Yes! She’s just floating there!”

  “What’s happening now, Penny?” the man asked calmly.

  “I’m pulling her out of the pool,” she cried. “God, she’s not breathing! Someone please help!” She paused for a moment, breathing heavier. “I’m trying C.P.R., but it’s not working! She’s dying! Help! Please help!”

  “It’s okay Penny,” Dawkins gripped her hands a little more tightly to assure her that everything was fine. “She didn’t drown. She didn’t drown.”

  “She didn’t drown,” Penny repeated, shivering all over.

  “No, she didn’t drown,” Dawkins confirmed. “Why are you shaking then, Penny?”

  “Because she almost drowned.”

  “Why did Terri almost drown, Penny?”

  “Because,” she hesitated; eyes closed with her breath flowing automatically, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Because you made a mistake, Penny.”

  There was no response from the teenager. Soon there were fresh tears gently running down her cheeks from beneath her shut eyelids.

  “Are you sorry for your mistake?” Dawkins asked her calmly.

  “Yes,” she answered. The tears flowed stronger. “I’m very sorry, Terri.”

  Mr. Dawkins held her hands more firmly. “Yes,” he said, “I believe you are.” He sat there with her and didn’t speak for a minute. He only let her tears run freely down her face. Finally, he spoke again with a calm nature that transferred peace back into her body: “People make mistakes, Penny. It’s okay to make them as long as we learn from them. Have you learned from your mistake?”

  “Yes,” Penny responded in the same monotone, dreamlike voice.

  “Then you can forgive yourself. Forgive and forget. You can forget what happened Penny, as long as you always remember to watch Terri more vigilantly. You will keep a better eye on her from now on, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” Penny responded robotically, “keep a better eye on her.”

  “I know you will, Penny. You’re a good person. And a good babysitter. Your doubts and fears are all just in your head. Let them go.”

  “All in my head,” the hypnotized girl responded. If not for her tears, one would think she was a machine.

  “There are a lot of things that are just in your head, Penny. Like Terri almost drowning.”

  There was at first no methodical response from the girl. Behind closed eyes, she appeared to be processing what the man was telling her. “Just in my head,” she eventually murmured with some effort.

  “That’s right, kiddo. Teri didn’t almost drown. She just fell in the pool, but you were right there when it happened. You were right there and pulled her out as soon as it happened. She just got wet and a little cold. That’s all.”

  More strain behind shut eyelids, but it wasn’t long before the tension in Penny’s faced eased with a release of stress, and a new acceptance of a guiltless event. “That’s all,” she breathed out with a sigh of relief.

  “That’s all,” Mr. Dawkins repeated.

  “That’s all,” Penny said again with more joy of relief than the first time.

  “Yes,” Mr. Dawkins continued, “and that’s all you’ll tell Mrs. Patterson when she comes home. Terri ran out on the back patio, and you chased after her immediately. She fell in the pool, but you pulled her right out and gave her a talking to about being more careful. Then you dried her off and put new clothes on her, and you put her wet clothes in the laundry room. That is what really happened, isn’t it Penny?”

  “Yes,” she concurred, “that’s what really happened.”

  Mr. Dawkins could feel Penny’s grip now tighten against his hands in a thankful gesture. He smiled at the teenager, though she couldn’t see, and continued on; “You won’t remember anything else when you wake up. You wo
n’t remember me either. You’ll only remember what I tell you to remember.” Mr. Dawkins lowered his voice even more. “First, you’ll remember what to tell Mrs. Patterson when she comes home.”

  “Terri fell in the pool, and I pulled her right out,” Penny reported in her trance.

  “That’s right. Second, you’ll always keep a better watch over Terri, even though nothing happened, you’ll never forget to watch her closely. No more talking to your boyfriend on the phone when you’re sitting.”

  “Always watch Terri closely.”

  “Third,” Dawkins went on, “I am leaving you some money. You won’t remember where you got it from, but you’ll know that you have to use it to get certified in C.P.R. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Penny replied. “Use money to get certified.”

  “Good,” Dawkins said softly. “Now when I tell you to, I want you to start counting very slowly, from one to twenty. When you get to twenty, you’ll open your eyes, and everything will be forgotten. You’ll only remember what I told you to remember.”

  “Count to twenty…”

  “Yes, very slowly” he reminded her.

  “Very slowly…”

  “Okay, are you ready?”

  “Why are you sad, Michael Dawkins?” Penny suddenly asked in her monotone voice. “Why are you in pain?”

  Dawkins’ eyes widened slightly. He was caught off guard by the girl’s sudden question. For a moment, he did not speak; he only stared at her, stared in wonder and interest. “What… what do you mean? How did you know… why do you think I’m sad?”

  There was no reply from the teenager. There was no sound between them. Mr. Dawkins was studying Penny’s face with such intensity that even he could no longer hear the childish noises coming from Terri’s television show in the other room. Then, as if Dawkins never asked Penny to clarify what she meant, Penny spoke again: “Yes, I’m ready.”

  Still studying her, Mr. Dawkins shook his head to release himself from his own trance of pondering. “O… Okay. Remember, you won’t remember me at all.”