by Jan Harman
Chapter 10
My traitorous stomach woke me with its upset rumblings. According to my smiley face bedside clock, it was almost eleven thirty at night. I snuck down the back stairs to raid the refrigerator, treading carefully over the loose board, its squeak sounding unnaturally loud in the confined space. Aunt Claire must have gone to bed because it was dark downstairs as well. Sooner or later, preferably tomorrow, we’d have to talk. Maybe in the light of day, Spring Valley wouldn’t feel sinister.
The refrigerator door opened, its light flooding the floor and the tall figure holding it open. “Don’t just stand there. Hit the light switch,” Shade said. “How about some eggs?” He rummaged for a moment and came out with the carton and a jug of milk.
“Why are you still here?” I asked, refusing to budge now that I’d flipped on the light.
“I’m concerned about you.”
“I’m fine. Where’s Aunt Claire?”
“Stretched out on the sofa. We’ll let her sleep for a couple more minutes.”
“I’m going back to bed. You can let yourself out.”
“I could hear your stomach rumbling all the way down the stairs. You need to eat, and I’m a fair cook.” He set the frying pan on the counter and stepped over to the table. “Sit.” He pulled out a chair. “Please.”
“Only because I need food in my stomach to take my pills.”
“What, no burning questions?”
“Does it matter? I apparently don’t have a choice in my life anymore. Besides, I’m not likely to get the truth,” I answered, tipping my chin up in challenge. I considered ordering him to go home. He’d waited around for several hours, so it seemed unlikely that he’d let something trivial like my order overrule his motives. When Shade took the chair next to mine, I scooted over, putting space between us. I heard an impatient sigh, but his voice was gentle when he spoke.
“Spring Valley is your home and the clans your extended family. I haven’t answers to your parents’ deaths. I promise you that I will look into the matter.”
I traced a scratch in the wood with my index finger and noticed my nail polish needed to come off. More details of my life slipping through the cracks. I let my mind drift for a moment to contemplate what color to use next. What was I doing thinking about something so inconsequential? Mom and Dad were dead. Shade and this valley wanted to heap more weight onto my shoulders while that darn boulder I’d climbed onto kept tipping. Could I really talk to Shade without guarding my words and reactions?
I looked at him, venturing a question. “Will you tell me what you find out?”
“I hold nothing back from my warden.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not that. I don’t want to be.”
“I know,” he replied with no trace of censor.
His kind expression took me by surprise. “It means everything to you, but you’re alright with me refusing?”
“Being alright with your decision and understanding your reaction are two separate matters. It has been engrained into the clan consciousness to function in a certain manner. I could never accept not having a warden just like you couldn’t accept your country being overseen by a different form of government. Even that isn’t a fair comparison, but at this moment of awareness, that is as near as you can understand. While your reasons for mistrusting the situation and disbelieving the seemingly irrational are understandable and justified given your limited perspective, I can’t let you make this choice out of fear. Too many lives and long standing traditions require my championing.”
“So it’s true, I’m a prisoner.”
“To fate as are we all.”
“My father didn’t bring me here like he did Danny.” My voice cracked. “Did it ever occur to you that he never wanted me to get involved?”
“That isn’t entirely true,” Aunt Claire said from the kitchen doorway. “Had Daniel not died, it was your father’s intention to start bringing you here the summer before you started high school. When Daniel spun out while driving home from Gunnison, Ethan took it hard. He couldn’t stay here for any length of time.”
“You’re wrong,” I shouted, coming off my chair. “Danny was visiting friends in New Hampshire. The roads were slick and . . .” I sank back onto my seat. “I’m sick of lies. Dad couldn’t even tell me the truth about Danny’s death because of this place. My entire life is a lie.”
“Only the parts that needed safe guarding,” my aunt replied. “Your parents loved you, that truth you can carry with you. Certain decisions were made because your parents didn’t want Spring Valley to have bad memories for you when your time came. Ethan always had your best interest at heart, and that of the clans.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately. That doesn’t make this any easier.”
“I expect it doesn’t.” Aunt Claire kissed the top of my head before taking a seat at the table. “But I do expect you to look at the situation with the maturity of a young woman not an angry child. People are flawed. They just do the best they can at the moment.”
I picked at my chipped nail polish. “What was my dad trying to safeguard?”
Aunt Claire shook her head, but Shade answered anyways. “Whisperers by nature are more volatile than their human cousins. For us, the transition to a civilized culture came with a heavy price. In a world intolerant of anybody different, our kind endured centuries of cruelty and abuse. Roland Pepperdine gave us the gift of hope for a life free of persecution. His ancestors have kept us safe from exploitation while giving purpose to our lives.”
My eyes opened wider. “I’m supposed to do that? I can’t even get behind the wheel of a car or sleep through the night.”
“Generally, the warden is much older than a high school senior.”
A manila envelope dropped onto the kitchen table. “I can do something about this,” Aunt Claire announced.
“Claire, you don’t want this,” Shade said, placing a hand on top of the envelope.
“My choice is to force it on Olivia? Ethan didn’t want her burdened at a young age with the problems of this valley.”
“I don’t understand. This is the envelope left at our door when we first moved in. What’s inside?” I asked, getting a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Council papers that when signed will make me the next Warden of the Clans until you graduate from college. Ethan had these drawn up after Daniel died. The current council cannot dispute my position as Interim Warden.”
“Are you certain?” Shade asked. “They won’t like it. They’ll make your term difficult.”
“I’ve heard the rumblings; as I’m sure you have. Certain elders hope Olivia is too weak or too frightened or out and out refuses, so they may appoint someone of the bloodline they can control. Some see it as a chance to appoint someone from a different clan to act as her advisor.”
“I’ve heard the same. Too many see a young, inexperienced girl as an opportunity to advance their agendas. What they want is a puppet.”
She tore open the flap. “They can’t have Olivia.”
An ivory sheet of paper was set onto the table. I leaned over and read the fancy script with its exaggerated loops and curls that used legal terms to confirm what my aunt had said. “But what about your art? You never wanted this life?”
“Not wanting the position and not being able to do the job are two entirely different scenarios. I’m not Ethan by a long measure, but I’m not the push-over they’ve deluded themselves into imagining. I’ll manage. We Pepperdine’s always do.”
I said nothing as my aunt signed away her gypsy lifestyle. Just like that. No debating, no questioning, she just did it, for me.
Though I appreciated her gesture, I was still preoccupied by the limitation set on my freedom. Four years of college then what? Return here and take up my obligated role just because some ancestor I’d never heard of had befriended these people? No way, I had plans for my life. Across the table Shade’s watchful gaze unnerved me, chipping away at my confidence. Finally
, my stomach started to rumble, and he got up to make my eggs.
“You look exhausted. Go to bed,” Aunt Claire said when I’d scraped my plate clean.
Shade looked up from reading the document. “I hate to bring this is up given today’s unpleasantness, but there is one matter that must be resolved.”
“Not tonight. Things always look better in the morning,” Aunt Claire replied. Her voice was thin, exhausted.
Shade’s strange crystal-blue eyes grew more troubled as his stare lengthened. I was afraid to voice my question, afraid that I already knew the answer. “You want what Mr. Cassidy wanted, don’t you? You want to test me?” I said, my breathing coming faster now.
“It would go a long way to appease the council. I know you’re frightened and the incident at the Cassidy’s only fueled your distrust, but I swear I would never harm you.”
My voice came out rough when I asked, “Would my father want this?”
“Yes,” Aunt Claire replied without hesitation. A bittersweet smile flickered across her face. “It was never Ethan’s intention to deprive you of the wonders of a connection to the collective voices of our people. A Pepperdine’s first joining is more than a symbolic gesture. At its onset, the testing of Pepperdine candidates allowed for the selection of the individual with the ability to link the deepest and to call out strongly to the people as a unifying voice. Not all wardens have been equally capable. Your father was blessed with a deep, rich call. In your case, the council needs reassurance that you haven’t been too traumatized to connect.”
“Mr. Cassidy said Danny showed promise. Dad only had faith in Daniel?” I asked, although it came out more like an accusation.
“Don’t do that to yourself. Your father’s legacy now lives on in you. You’ll see when you’re ready,” Aunt Claire said, patting my hand. “Your parents were always proud of you.”
“They wouldn’t be now. Helena touched me and I couldn’t move.” I swallowed hard, my fork tapping against the side of the plate. “I can’t tolerate not being able to move. It’s like after the accident. I know it sounds cowardly, but I can’t do this test thing if it means that.”
“Oh, Olivia,” Aunt Claire cried, getting up from her seat to come over to my side of the table. She hugged me tightly and said fiercely, staring at Shade, “They had no right to immobilize my niece. The council will be informed that no one may conduct an unauthorized test.” She pulled back and looked directly at me this time. “No one will bother you again. Now that the warden issue is temporarily resolved, the elders will settle down.”
I wasn’t convinced that it was just anxiety amongst the clans that had led to Mr. Cassidy’s bold attempt. He didn’t strike me as the sort to be overly concerned with procedure.
Shade gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “I won’t let anyone frighten you or force you to do anything against your will.”
He was too intuitive, or was I just that easy to read? “What else do I have to look forward to besides being immobilized?”
“Whispers don’t go around immobilizing whomever they want. We have rules,” he answered.
“Punishments? Or are elders above the law?”
“No one is above the Pact. But sometimes we have to tread carefully,” he said diplomatically.
I swung my head towards my aunt, “Mr. Cassidy could treat me like that and folks will look the other way? You’re not going to do anything? A second ago you were furious.”
“You aren’t naïve. You understand plenty how politics is played out.”
“Then what is the point of being the warden? Why have one at all?”
“The warden facilitates disputes and guides the people along a safe, mutually profitable course. The warden ensures the secret is secure,” she answered.
“Well I have a dispute with Mr. Cassidy, and I want something done.”
“Don’t be childish. I can’t punish an elder for immobilizing a frightened teenage girl,” Aunt Claire said, her voice turning annoyed. “Trust me; that will be the spin he’ll put on the situation. This isn’t the time to stir up discord within the community. I know it doesn’t seem fair, but that is the real world.”
“Fine,” I said, although I was far from it. Too much was going on that I still didn’t understand. Aunt Claire was the warden now, not me. Unless I wanted to take on the obligation, I had to accept that I had no say in the matter. “So what does a joining involve?” I asked, switching back to that nagging concern.
Aunt Claire picked up my plate, yawned, and said tiredly, “Tomorrow.”
“I need to know to help me sleep.”
“You’re being difficult.”
“Allow me to demonstrate,” Shade interrupted.
I expected a drawn out explanation guaranteed to put my fears at ease with soothing nonsense words that would not bear up under scrutiny. Anything to undo the damage Mr. Cassidy had caused. Instead, Shade turned towards my aunt with his hands extended on the table palm side up.
“You won’t enjoy the contact. My thoughts and emotions are anxious to say the least,” Aunt Claire warned as she placed her hands palm side down onto his.
“Shared joy, shared pain, shared concerns all forge deeper bonds. Share yours and be bolstered, Claire Pepperdine,” he replied in his slow, deep drawl.
I inched forward, drawn to the intimate scene by my aunt’s tranquil expression. It was nothing like I’d been expecting. There was none of the drama that had fueled the atmosphere at the Cassidy’s. Had that been my doing triggered by my irrational fears? Shade had been outraged. Had we both misjudged Mr. Cassidy? I was so confused.
Slowly, as though waking from a sound sleep, both Shade and my aunt drew their hands apart, their expressions unfocused. Shade stretched his arms over his head and let out a slow breath. “I’m honored by your sharing,” he said sincerely. “I don’t envy you in your new journey.”
His gaze flicked across my face. I caught the hint of frustration behind his incredible eyes. No doubt much of my aunt’s concerns centered around raising a teenager who wasn’t coping well with life in general let alone this strange new world. It bothered me having Shade think less of me. Prepared for rejection, the knot in my stomach cinched tighter.
Aunt Claire gave me a quick, reassuring hug. “See there’s nothing to be frightened of. It takes practice, patience, and the will to allow it to happen for a successful link to be established.”
I heard the doubt in her voice. She didn’t think I would be able to do this. Alright, so I had issues, but who didn’t these days. Granted my issues were more intense than worrying about grades or getting a date to prom.
Shade nodded. “No rush. Our joining can wait until you’re not feeling pressured.”
“But the council will be upset. They’ll pressure Aunt Claire,” I replied.
The signed document was gathered up and rapped against the tabletop. Aunt Claire’s tight-lipped smile thinned measurably as she slid the paper back into the manila envelope. “Then I’ll just remind them of the authority granted to me by the terms of this document.”
“As the warden, you could order me to take the test,” I said, pressing my hands against my thighs to keep my knees from bouncing. The table shook, I pressed harder.
“Your aunt’s orders will have no bearing on this matter. If you say no, then I won’t proceed. She could ask another clan member to take my place,” Shade announced.
I sat up straighter, a bud of warmth expanding deep in my chest. Shade would openly defy his warden. I couldn’t understand why my aunt wasn’t upset by this betrayal. “But that would be wrong. You can’t just choose when to follow orders.”
“I follow the orders of my warden,” Shade replied without hesitation.
“You . . . wait a minute. I’m not the warden.”
“You are my warden. I’ve seen you that way since Daniel died. Don’t frown. Your aunt will have my backing as well. Think of me as your private guard/adviser. Trust is the key. If you can’t set your fears aside, our session
s will be a waste of time.”
“I trust you,” I answered, already focusing on sessions as in plural and the handy excuse to spend more time together.
His hands came together in front of his pursed lips. Not the reaction my vivid fantasy had constructed. Slowly, the tips of his index fingers tapped against his mouth. He stared questioningly into my eyes as though he was carrying on an internal debate in which I was being weighed and measured. I held my breath, knowing there was little that I could say to sway his decision. I was left to wonder how much of my aunt’s perspective had colored his opinion of my readiness. Not that it mattered when he could reflect on my numerous bouts of hysteria. Smiling, confident Daniel, I was not. After years of waiting, what a disappointment I’d turned out to be.
“Despite being thrust into improbable situations, you do trust me,” Shade said, sounding pleased by that observation. “If it would set your mind at ease, we could wait to have our introductory lesson until you feel comfortable in Spring Valley?”
“That might be a very long wait. I haven’t wrapped my mind around all of this yet. I know you dislike it when I think I’m crazy, but you’ve got to admit that from my perspective, it’s a legitimate fear. I need something tangible to hold me together.”
Shade snapped back a step, his posture rigid as he turned away. The conviction behind his voice deflated as he spoke, “I thought our run from the Cassidy’s was tangible enough. You’ve the trust, but not the willingness to open yourself to connect.”
I felt his response like a kick to the gut. It wasn’t that I’d let the valley down, although that was part of it. For some reason known only to his ego, my response had struck him on a personal level, a rejection, so to speak of his deeds. Denial was pointless when it was impossible for him to truly comprehend what he’d never faced, readjusting his concept of reality. I glared at his profile, wishing he’d turn, so I could explain, while on the other hand, foolishly hoping he’d say I was still his warden.