Tamiko and the Two Janitors (Amaranthine Saga Book 3)

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Tamiko and the Two Janitors (Amaranthine Saga Book 3) Page 3

by Forthright


  “You’re going to be attending Bellwether College?” Tami asked. “You’ll soon have classes with Amaranthine. I’m sure it’ll be in tomorrow’s news.”

  “What?”

  “We were selected! My elementary school and our middle school, one of the high schools, and Bellwether College were chosen by Hisoka Twineshaft for his big school revitalization program.”

  Tami’s father was all celebration, but her mother wanted more information. “What happens next?”

  “A little extra funding, which we’ll put into renovations and salaries. But most exciting, we’ll soon have Amaranthine living in our community!”

  “Rivven kids at your school?” asked Uncle Abel.

  Tami shook her head. “Not at Landmark. The Amaranthine don’t send their children to school like we do. They stay with their clan, so they’re essentially homeschooled until they’re old enough to take an apprenticeship. West Branch High will see some student integration, but at the elementary level, we’ll be given a choice of Amaranthine faculty or staff.”

  Aunt Hiro asked, “You’re replacing teachers?”

  “No, no! Not unless or until someone retires. We’re focusing on supplemental staff.” Tami’s enthusiasm seemed to multiply. “For instance, we haven’t had a school librarian in six years. And budget cuts meant curtailing arts and music. This is a huge opportunity! Our new staff will be enriching our students’ lives, all while showing them that Amaranthine are valued members of the community.”

  “They’re a wily bunch,” said Uncle Able.

  Tami bristled. “What do you mean?”

  “Rivven have long lifespans. They may never win over their detractors, but they can outlive them. If the next generation grows up with inhuman mentors and peers, the stigma will fade to nothing.”

  “Is that so bad?” Tami asked softly.

  Her dad gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Nope. They’re wiser than we’ve been, on the whole. And more patient than many folks deserve. When will you get your Rivven?”

  Melissa cringed inwardly. She’d never understood why the Amaranthine so easily accepted the label, but in America, they were almost universally referred to as Rivven. It bugged her that the media had slapped their own label on a culture that predated theirs by millennia.

  Yet the Amaranthine offered no protest. Under Hisoka Twineshaft’s leadership, the clans prioritized peace over pride. If anyone pushed for the more respectful use of proper terms, it was nearly always a reaver speaking up on an Amaranthine’s behalf.

  Tami eagerly answered her father. “Assignments will be finalized by Christmas. Something to do with the winter solstice. They make big decisions and big announcements during the longest night of the year.”

  Melissa wasn’t surprised. The Amaranthine might be willing to let some things go, but they observed Dichotomy Day without fail.

  “My girl’s changing the world!” boasted Uncle Abel.

  Aunt Hiro murmured, “To think, Amaranthine here. And all because of you.”

  Which wasn’t true at all. Not only had Amaranthine settled in this area first, their community had been carefully crafted to foster a human one. Melissa kept her eyes down and tried not to get angry over simple ignorance. Let the lady principal think what she wanted.

  But then Tami surprised her.

  “I’m not so sure, Mom. You know, I met an Amaranthine today from a dove clan. He said he’s been in Perch County all his life. That he loves it here as much as we do. If this is his home, he can’t be alone. Maybe there have been Amaranthine here all along.”

  Her father said, “If there are, I’ve never seen hide nor hair of them.”

  “Why should we?” asked Tami. “It’s not as if they have any incentive to come out of hiding.”

  Uncle Abel was nodding. “The latest proposal involves registry before granting basic rights. And a few states are arguing hotly for tagging.”

  “No politics during dinner.” Aunt Hiro began ferrying serving bowls to the table.

  Tami accepted the change of subject and asked, “Where’s Joe?”

  “Some quiet corner, I’m sure,” said Uncle Abel.

  “I sent Grandad after Jiro.” The woman tilted an ear toward the door. “There’s the tractor now.”

  Turning to Melissa, Tami asked, “Have you met my twin?”

  “Yes.” And again, she found herself adding more. “I didn’t realize you were twins.”

  “Fraternal, of course.” Tami lingered beside the kitchen door as if she’d had enough of being apart. When Joe entered on the heels of the old man who was obviously their grandfather, Tami slipped under Joe’s arm, earning a lopsided hug.

  Now that they were side-by-side, Melissa could see obvious similarities. The shape of their eyes, their noses, their cheekbones—these they’d inherited from their mother. But Joe had his father’s forehead and chin, and Tami’s eyes were the same blue as Uncle Abel’s.

  The old man cut straight to the corner console and picked up the remote.

  “We have a guest,” protested Aunt Hiro.

  “She’s staying, but this won’t wait. It’s a live broadcast.”

  Uncle Abel sheepishly explained, “My father’s a bit of a Rivven fanatic, and tonight’s a big deal. Have you been following the Starmark courtship?”

  “Not especially,” she lied.

  A commercial was running for some new drama in the fall line-up. The old man kept it muted, but his gaze never left the screen. He was long and lean like the other Armstrongs she knew, but his hair was pure white, and his blue eyes were partially obscured by reading glasses.

  “You see that?” he asked.

  She shook her head in confusion, then realized he wasn’t looking. “No, sir?”

  He pointed with the remote. “Pim Moonprowl. First openly Amaranthine actress on primetime. Get this … she plays a wolf.”

  Melissa stared blankly at the clip. The actress was clearly meant to be part of a team of investigators. A tracker with bare feet and baubles at her throat and ankles, clad in a form-fitting corset and a furry miniskirt the same color as her tail.

  “Ever seen the like?” he demanded.

  “She’s very beautiful,” Melissa managed as she watched that tail flick and curl.

  The old man gave her a disappointed look, then harrumphed. “She’s very feline.”

  Uncle Abel asked, “Does it really matter? Rivven all look the same to me.”

  “Next time you ask for a puppy, you’re getting a kitten,” groused the senior Mr. Reaverson.

  “Dad,” his son sighed. “Meet Melissa Armstrong, who will be boarding with us while attending classes at Bellwether.”

  “George Reaverson.” His handshake was firm, his gaze keen. “You look like family. All of us are long in the leg. Make yourself at home.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Just George. Or Uncle George, if you care to claim me.”

  Then the commercial break ended, and he unmuted the television. A five-person panel of news anchors and color commentators welcomed the world to Kikusawa Shrine in Keishi, Japan for the next phase of the Starmark courtship.

  Aunt Hiro gave in with grace. Joe helped her add another leaf to the table, and Tami rearranged the place settings so they could all see the television while they ate.

  Melissa tuned in to the panel’s discussion.

  “ … made all the more dramatic by yesterday’s announcement.”

  “Spokesperson Twineshaft has shown impressive foresight. By acting as Eloquence Starmark’s go-between for the duration of the courtship, he’s gained the world’s attention. Today’s entertainment isn’t just a celebration of the upcoming Miyabe-Starmark union, but of the Five’s long-anticipated announcement that they’ve expanded their membership to seven.”

  “That’s right,” jumped in their color commentator as the cameras switched to Kimiko Miyabe and her entourage. “Suuzu Farroost, the representative for the phoenix clans, is the first avian spokesperson on the co
uncil. We received word earlier that in celebration of the appointment, the clan will honor the couple’s continuing courtship with a phoenix fly-over.”

  “Cameras will be trained on the skies!” The anchor turned to the Betweener on their panel. “Reaver Hinman, am I safe in assuming that this is a great honor?”

  “Oh, no doubt. Both an honor and a blessing, since ….”

  Tami leaned closer to Melissa and asked, “Aren’t they a cute couple?”

  Melissa tapped her heart. “He adores her.”

  “Everyone does. Have you seen Kimiko’s book group on Goodreads? She and a friend run it, and they know all the best novels inspired by the Emergence.”

  Melissa only smiled. She was more interested in the unfolding scene on television. Some things weren’t obvious to casual observers, but whenever the cameras lingered on the courting couple, it was possible to pick up on their body language. They sent little messages to each other—teasing, tender.

  After dinner, they lingered at the table, watching the pageantry unfold. Reaver Hinman proved an excellent translator as he narrated the graceful movements of the dance performed by a dozen deer clan members. Their festival attire honored both the courting couple and the appointment of Tenna Silverprong to the Amaranthine Council.

  “ … might interest you to know that the Silverprong clan were part of the first enclave to welcome reavers into their community, pre-dating the founding of Wardenclave by nearly a century.”

  “And today, they add their blessing to the upcoming union of a reaver to the grandson of one of Wardenclave’s founders. Truly a historic event!”

  Aunt Hiro took advantage of another commercial break featuring the miscast Miss Moonprowl to chase everyone out of the kitchen and into a shabbily comfortable family room. As Melissa accepted a chair across from Uncle George’s, Tami and Joe crowded together on a couch built for two.

  As the commentators rambled on about the preservation of old forests and the intricacy of Silverprong woodcarving, Melissa felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere. When she searched for its source, she noticed that Tami now sat with her arm tucked through Joe’s, her head resting on his shoulder.

  Joe finally looked comfortable, and Melissa was glad for him. But that couldn’t be the source of this sense of … of haven. It reminded her of being inside the heavy wards of their cove. Carefully tuned. Perfectly balanced.

  Uncle George noticed her distraction and caught her eye before solemnly tapping his heart.

  She blushed, realizing she’d inadvertently done the same thing earlier. And she knew that he knew that she knew the meaning of the simple gesture. And that—in a slightly different way—it applied here as well.

  He adores her.

  SIX

  Flickering

  “You’re quite the morning lark!” Flootie Dabrowski leaned through Tami’s door. “What are you up to with all that? Some kind of craft project? Did you see last night’s kiss? For pity’s sake, what’s going on with your light?”

  Tami laughed at the sudden barrage. Her secretary was one of the few people who could out-chatter her, and she liked the change of pace. “First off, what’s a morning lark?”

  “Opposite of a night owl.” Mrs. Dabrowski trundled into the room and planted her hands on her hips, her gaze fixed on the humming, flickering light fixture. “Was it doing that yesterday?”

  “Not at all.” Tami looked up. “I thought if I jiggled the bulbs it would stop, but I couldn’t reach, even when I stood on my desk.”

  “Saints above, don’t you dare be risking life and limb when we have a proper crew for that kind of thing. I’ll let the boys know it’s acting up.” Her gaze swung back to the desk. “You’re scanning leaves?”

  Tami fiddled with the double row on the glass pane of her scanner, fitting a range of sizes and colors together. “They’re from one of our trees at home.”

  Flootie picked up one that was beginning to turn yellow and twirled it by the stem. “These are practically round! What kind of tree do they come from?”

  “Not sure.” Tami placed a sheet of white paper over the leaves and carefully lowered the lid, punching the scan button. “We call it our mystery tree. My brother and I have been trying to track it down since we were kids, without any luck.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about trees.”

  Tami said, “I know fruit trees, but that’s my limit. I found an arborist’s website, though. I’ll post these scans and the basic facts on their forum. One of their experts will probably know it at a glance, which will save me from scrolling through endless near-misses and mismatches.”

  “You’re a smart cookie.”

  Tami switched the white paper for a sheet of black construction paper and took another scan, unsure which background would make the leaves easier to identify. “I’m counting on the smarts of those botanists. It looks like the regulars on the forums include growers and hobbyists and university professors. And they jump on these kinds of questions. I’ll probably have my answer in a day or two.”

  “I’ll leave you to it. Good luck!”

  Offering distracted thanks, Tami flipped the leaves so she could scan their undersides. In a matter of minutes, she was logging into the forum and prepping her post.

  Help us identify our mystery tree.

  Horizontal branching, smooth bark, twisting roots, round leaves, offset placement, delicate as rice paper. First bloom this past spring, white flowers, nine petals, highly fragrant. No discernible fruit, nuts, or pods. Autumn foliage is yellow-gold, a beautiful tree, but lonely, no others like it anywhere in our area.

  She signed the post PrinceTam and made a note on her calendar to check back for responses.

  A soft rap on her door pulled her attention to the time. Was she late for her meeting? No, it was still early. The buses wouldn’t arrive for another half hour. “Yes?”

  The door opened a few inches. “Your light?”

  “Oh! That was quick. Thanks.”

  Tami gathered the leaves strewn across her desk while the janitor silently set up his ladder. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but she was curious. This was the other janitor, the one she hadn’t met.

  He had a lean build, high cheekbones, and sharp features. It wasn’t often she met someone with hair similar to her own—straight and black. He’d pulled it into a careless ponytail at the nape of his neck, but its length boasted an enviable gloss. Like Kip, he wore drab coveralls in a shade somewhere between gray and green. From this angle, she couldn’t quite read the name on the embroidered patch.

  “We haven’t met,” she said.

  “Guess not.” He ran lightly up the ladder, tool belt jingling at his waist.

  “I’m Tami.”

  “You’re Principal Reaverson,” he corrected.

  “I’m Tami to my friends.”

  Perfectly balanced on the uppermost rung, he spared her a glance. “I’m not really a friendly guy.”

  His eyes were so dark, they might as well be black, and the way they glittered, she couldn’t decide if he was serious or not. Despite the warning, his tone was polite, almost apologetic. It was the strangest case of mixed messages.

  Removing the light fixture’s cover, he proceeded to ignore her completely. Tami supposed he was accustomed to being ignored as he went about his duties. Or maybe he was shy like Joe. She tried again. “Kip says you’re his friend.”

  “That’s what he claims.”

  Wait, no. This was more like Grandad. Did curmudgeons come this young? She leaned back in her chair to watch him make handyman magic. “Kip’s not your friend?”

  “Kip’s not fussy. He’ll befriend anything that moves and a few things that don’t.”

  Tami smiled. This guy was dodging her questions like a champ, but he wasn’t actually denying anything. “He told me you two are a we, that you were childhood friends.”

  “Something like that.”

  “I haven’t seen you around.”

  “You haven’t bee
n around.” He slid the bulb back into place and tapped it lightly. The light flickered once, then blazed steadily. “Just because you don’t notice us doesn’t mean we’re not here.”

  Tami watched him whip out a cloth and dust the cover before fitting it back into place. “How long have you worked here?” she asked.

  “I forget.”

  She supposed she could just check his file, but that would be cheating. “I’m new.”

  That earned her a flat look. “I noticed.”

  Was this a problem? Tami sat forward. “You don’t like change?”

  “Nothing wrong with change, so long as it’s good.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  He locked gazes with her. “I’m not holding you to anything.”

  To keep him talking, she blurted the first thing that came to mind. “How do you feel about the Amaranthine?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Landmark Elementary is going to become an integrated school.”

  “Kip mentioned that.”

  She said, “He was all for it.”

  “He’s enthusiastic like that.” Folding his dust rag and tucking it through his belt, he eased down a couple of rungs.

  Tami pressed. “You’re not in favor of bringing Amaranthine into the school?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He tapped the pads of his fingers on the side of the ladder. “It’s probably a good thing to let the kids meet all kinds of people. Let them see for themselves that they have nothing to fear from the clans.”

  “Kip offered to be on my planning committee.”

  “Then janitorial services is represented.” Another step down.

  She countered, “You can balance his enthusiasm with caution.”

  “I’m not really a committee kind of guy.”

  “But you’re not opposed to bringing Amaranthine into the open in Archer? Or in Fletching, for that matter?”

  He hesitated. “That’s a funny way of putting it.”

  Tami tried to explain how her perspective had shifted. “What if we’re not just helping our kids understand and appreciate another culture. What if we’re making our home the kind of place where Amaranthine can live openly?”

 

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