Bonds That Blind (Daughters of Anubis)

by Kelli Kimble

  Some papers shuffled.

  “Ah, yes. You did well, Miss Cucciolo. This is exactly what I wanted.”

  “Can you explain it again? The banker had questions, and I feel like anyone spending this sort of money would understand what they were doing with it.”

  “Just tell them you have a friend that advised it.” There was a long pause in which Tessa must have made her disapproval known with a look. “All right. You’re buying shares of companies which I know will grow to many times their current size. It is nothing more than a standard investing practice,” he explained.

  “But how do you know which companies?”

  “Miss Cucciolo, do you doubt me?”

  “Of course not,” Tessa gushed. “I just don’t understand what you’d be doing with this stock is all.”

  “Gaining ownership of these corporations, of course.”

  “But you said you want to flood the market.”

  “Yes, that will happen. In time.”

  “I don’t understand what the point of that would be.”

  “It will make more sense as the time draws near. For now, we are only preparing.”

  There was a ticking sound, and then another click. “Here is your next round of acquisitions. Just follow the instructions.”

  “Most people keep this kind of money in the bank.”

  “I am not most people. I assure you; it is perfectly safe.”

  “Must be nice,” Tessa said. Something snapped shut, and the ticking sound repeated.

  “Thank you again for your assistance, Miss Cucciolo.”

  “Of course. I’m glad to help.” The door opened and their voices faded as they moved away in different directions. The back door slammed, indicating he’d gone outside. The steps to the upstairs creaked as she went up to her room, probably to hide whatever he’d given her.

  I popped up from my hiding place and looked at the desk. There was a sheaf of papers on the blotter that looked like a statement or receipt from the Shelby Community Bank. Numbers and letters were itemized in a neat grid on the left, with corresponding columns indicating quantities and totals on the right. I didn’t know what it meant. And I didn’t know how it could be used to own a company.

  Turning around, I looked for the source of the ticking and clicks. But beyond the desk, there was nothing with moving parts.

  I had an inkling that I’d witnessed something big, but I didn’t know what it was. My brain slowly tossed around the idea that Mr. Anu was keeping something from me about his future—and my role in that future.

  I retreated outside, spotting Jacob outside as I stepped off the porch. I waved and started in on my chores right away. I needed to distract myself from the impending uneasy feeling building inside of me.

  “Why are you so quiet?” he asked as he helped clean the chicken coop. It was a chore that had fallen to me because I knew how though I did not much appreciate having to do it. Jacob had offered to help so that the task would get done faster.

  I glanced around. Tessa would be inside getting lunch ready. But Kal and Mr. Anu could be anywhere around the farm. I didn’t spot either of them.

  “It’s just that I have a bad feeling,” I said. “I was in Mr. Anu’s den, and he came in with Tessa. They were talking and didn’t see me.” I paused to scrape some particularly stuck-on chicken droppings off the floor of the coop with a shovel.

  “How could you have been in there without them knowing?”

  Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to confide in Jacob. I turned so that he couldn’t see my face. “I was on the floor behind his desk.”

  “You were hiding?”

  I grunted. “I’ve been feeling out of sorts being here without my parents, you know? Plus, I’m worried that Kal is doing something dumb and what if I can’t manage school, and how are we going to be apart, and . . . I just wanted to be alone for a little while. So, I went in there and sat on the floor so that I could look out the window. I wasn’t hiding.”

  “But you stayed where you were and didn’t tell them you were there.”

  “I know. I know I eavesdropped. I know it was rude and unladylike. Thank you, Mother,” I said, poking his side with my index finger.

  He held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to be clear.”

  “Okay, so we’ve established I was hiding and eavesdropping. Thanks for the clarification.” I turned my back to him and continued shoveling debris from the coop. It was hot and stuffy under the roof of the tiny building, and I was starting to sweat.

  “I’m sorry, Iris. I wasn’t trying to be critical. Finish telling me about your bad feeling.”

  I exhaled. “I was behind the desk, and they didn’t know I was there. Rather, they didn’t seem to.” I paused for a moment. Mr. Anu’s sense of smell had to be just as acute or better than mine; he certainly knew I was there. “And they started talking about some task he’s given Tessa to do. He’s sending her to different banks with a lot of money. She’s buying stock in companies that he says will rise in value.”

  He shrugged. “A guy like Mr. Anu has a lot of opportunities to invest.”

  “Yeah, for Mr. Anu to invest. Why is he sending your sister?”

  “That’s a good question,” he said. He went to get the hose, and I climbed out of the coop. I watched as he sprayed down the nesting cubbies and floor. He filled a bucket with water, and I poured in some bleach. We began the especially smelly task of scrubbing the whole coop down.

  “He has a lot of properties,” Jacob finally said. “Maybe he’s having Tessa do it because of the taxes.”

  “We’re losing focus,” I said. “It isn’t just that he’s asking Tessa to do his investing for him. It’s that he’s got some kind of plan, and even though it seems like he’s explained it to Tessa, she doesn’t understand it. She asked him to explain it again and he glossed it over.”

  The bleach was stinging my nose and I could feel it drying out the skin on my hands. I scrubbed furiously, taking my pent up confusion out on the bare wood of the coop.

  “Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you? Because you’re scrubbing very aggressively.” He was standing back, watching me with a concerned expression.

  I didn’t answer. I scrubbed harder. He started scrubbing, too. It occurred to me that I wasn’t going to be paid for doing this, and neither was he. I threw my brush into the bucket, splashing bleach-water at him.

  “Hey, watch it,” he said.

  “Sorry.” I turned and sat, letting the rear of my dungarees soak in the wet muck of the coop while my legs dangled out the side towards the ground.

  “Iris come on. Let’s just finish this and get it over with.”

  I kicked at a rock and stood up. “I can’t believe we’re not getting paid for this.”

  “Do I really have to remind you that he’s paying for you to go to school for four years? And he doesn’t even agree that you should go?”

  “No.” I grabbed the brush and resumed scrubbing. But something about his statement set off an unexpected thought: I can escape this plan of Anu’s at school. I don’t have to do what he wants, and I don’t have to participate in whatever his plan is. I can just go away to school and educate myself.

  Suddenly, cleaning the chicken coop didn’t seem so bad.

  * * *

  Before Kal took us back to school, I tried one more time to convince him that maybe he shouldn’t join the Army. I was on the couch painting my nails, something Mother didn’t especially like, when he came into the room.

  “How can you stand the smell of that stuff?” He waved a hand in front of his face. “It’s like a chemical spill in here.”

  “Very funny. Can you do me a favor? I have trouble with my right hand.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to paint your nails?”

  “Who’s gonna know? Come on. It’ll only take you a few minutes.” I wiggled my fingers at him and held up the nail polish bottle. Reluctantly, he drew a chair across from me and took the polish.


  “What do I do?”

  “You just dip the brush and wipe it against the side like this.” I demonstrated loading the brush, and then I painted my left thumb. I held it up. “See? Nothing to it.”

  He accepted the polish and, sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth, he carefully began painting the nails on my right hand.

  “Okay, so I don’t want to sound unsupportive, but I have to ask. You’re really dead set, not turning back, definitely going to join the Army?”

  “Yep.”

  “And there’s nothing anyone can do to change your mind.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Okay. I hope it’s what you need it to be.”

  He paused mid- stroke. “Thanks. That means a lot.” He didn’t meet my eyes, and his voice sounded heavy and thick. He moved to the next finger. “I might have the hang of this by the time I reach your pinkie.”

  “It looks way better than what I would do.”

  “I hope school turns out the way you need it to be, too.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  He put the brush back in the bottle and screwed the lid tight. “You almost ready to go? I bet your roommate is dying to meet you.” He rumpled my hair.

  “And I’m dying to meet her.”

  He laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re scared.”

  I didn’t respond. It didn’t seem like a good idea to lie about it.

  Chapter 7

  “Sigourney?”

  The door was ajar, and I pushed it open, looking for her. She wasn’t there, but it looked like her luggage had exploded. Clothes, shoes, books, a hairbrush and a stray curler were spread over her side of the room. I was standing there gaping at it when she came in, dressed in a bathrobe and her hair wrapped up in a towel. She was carrying a bucket full of toiletries, which rattled when she saw me as she jumped.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You’re Sigourney, right? I’m Iris.”

  “Right, of course. Nice to meet you,” she said. When she smiled, her pointy canines were visible. She had bright blue eyes and high cheekbones, which I immediately both admired and was jealous of. “Everyone calls me Siggie, though. Sigourney is too formal.”

  “Siggie, then. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you when you arrived. I was visiting home for the long weekend.”

  “No problem,” she said. “Maybe it was better that you weren’t here. My parents were just awful. My mother cried the whole time, and my dad said the bathrooms were germ cesspools and then called the resident assistant an overpaid babysitter, right to her face.” She rolled her eyes. “At least you’ll judge me for me and not their bizarre behavior.”

  “Right,” I said. I hefted my suitcase up onto the bed and began unpacking. Behind me, she shoved a bunch of stuff from the bed to the floor. The bed creaked as she sat on it. She unwrapped the towel from her hair and rubbed at her scalp to dry it faster. Her hair was an alarming shade of red.

  “So, you’re all settled in.”

  “Yes, I came early. For the orientation class.”

  “Ugh. My dad says that class is just an excuse to suck more money out of your wallet.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. They said I had to attend because I didn’t graduate.” I think our fathers would get along.

  “Wow, really? How’d you get in?” She sucked in a breath, perhaps realizing that she’d maybe overstepped, and added, “if you don’t mind my asking.”

  “It’s a long story, but I have a GED.”

  “Oh. Look at you, all rebelling.” She smiled, again revealing her teeth.

  “Your hair is a pretty color,” I said.

  “Ha. You’re too nice. My natural color is a very light, very nondescript boring shade of not really brown and not really blonde. My mom calls it ‘dishwater blonde’ which I find repulsive. So, I dyed it. Seems like the start of college is a good time to create a new persona. Know what I mean?”

  “I guess.”

  “Anyway. I know it’s way too red to look real. My mother says I look like a kewpie doll. And I’m pretty sure that’s not a compliment.” She began rummaging through the things she hadn’t yet pushed to the floor. She eventually fished out a cloth bag with a drawstring. “How are you with rag curls? I need someone to do the back of my head.”

  “What about dinner?” I asked.

  “What about it?”

  I frowned. Mother would rather die than allow me to go anywhere with my hair setting. “Dinner starts in an hour. You want me to curl it up after?”

  “‘Course not. If I wait an hour, it’ll be mostly dry.”

  She arranged a comb, setting cream, and the bag on her desk and pulled out the chair. She held the comb out to me. “Don’t be afraid to tie those babies tight.” Then she turned her back to me, flipped all of her stringy wet hair over her shoulder and waited.

  Besides Mother, no girl had ever asked me to perform such a ritual with them. My hand shook a little as I reached out to begin combing. I worked the comb into her hair at the crown of her head and met almost instant resistance.

  “No, silly. Start at the bottom. I’m a tangled mess.”

  “Right. Sorry.” I took a deep breath and, grabbing a section of hair, I started combing from the bottom with as gentle a motion as I could. “So, um. Tell me about your family.” She didn’t correct me again, so I increased the speed of detangling.

  “The usual. My mom and dad are high school sweethearts. I’m the youngest of five, and they couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Though you wouldn’t know it from the way my mom carried on when they were here. All of a sudden I’m her baby and what is she going to do with nobody to take care of.” She turned her head to look at me, jerking her hair out of my hand. “I’ll tell you who she’s taking care of: Johnnie Walker, that’s who.” She turned her head back. “And maybe the postman.”

  I gasped.

  “I’m kidding. About both things, really. My mom couldn’t be more straight-laced if she tried.”

  The comb moved through her hair easily now. She handed me a pot of setting cream over her shoulder.

  “I have two sisters and two brothers. Two sets of twins, if you can believe it. They like to tell me that I ate my twin before I was born. But I think they wore out mom’s plumbing too much to handle more than just the one baby.”

  I laughed. I scooped out a gob of setting cream and rubbed it into her hair. It smelled like roses sprayed by a skunk.

  “All of my older siblings have already moved out. I was a surprise baby, you know. Both sisters are married, and one brother is engaged. My one sister has kids. Triplets, can you believe it? She always looks like any minute now you could kill her, and she’d welcome the relief. I’ve babysat for her enough to know that I don’t want kids for a long time.”

  I combed her hair through once more and started parting it into sections.

  “You haven’t said anything about your family. Tell me about them.”

  “I’m an only child,” I said. “My parents are in Florida, right now. Last year our house burnt down, and my father lost his job after he was arrested for arson. So, he’s had some trouble getting work.”

  “Get out,” she said. “Your dad was arrested?”

  “Yeah.” I took one of the rag curlers from the bag. They were made from several layers of flannel sewn together and cut into long skinny rectangles with pinking shears. I began rolling up the first curl. “The sheriff tried to pin it on him, but that didn’t work.”

  “Who was it?”

  “A boy I went to school with. He died when the burns he got setting the fire were infected.”

  “Wow, that’s crazy. Was he cute?”

  “I didn’t really care for him, no.”

  “So, you live in Florida now?”

  “No. I’m staying with a family friend. I help on his farm when I’m not in school.” The first curl sprang free from her head as soon as I took my fingers away from the knot. She didn’t see
m to notice as I tried again.

  “Oh. What about boys? Is there a man in the picture?”

  My cheeks got hot. “Um, yeah. There is.”

  She squealed. “Do tell. Handsome? Funny? Does he have muscles?” She flexed her biceps and laughed.

  “He is kind, charming, handsome and muscular, yes,” I said. “His name is Jacob.”

  “When do I get to meet your hunky man?”

  “He’s going to Lowry, so I don’t know. Maybe Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s so far off, though,” she whined. “You have to get him here sooner.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” After my third attempt, the first curl was finally tied off and staying put. I picked out another rag.

  “I am unattached myself,” she said. “Though not for lack of trying. It’s weird, though. It’s like, I never found the boys everyone said were most attractive to be all that good-looking. It was the boys nobody seemed to like that drew my attention.”

  “Hmm.” I could have explained to her that it was because the good-looking boys were human and that the boys she found attractive were probably Anubian. But Professor Cane’s warning that the other students likely didn’t know what they were rung in my ears.

  “Though I never really clicked with any of the boys that nobody else liked, either. My sister says I just need to be patient. But I’m dying to have a passionate love affair that sweeps me off my feet and ends in tears and teeth gnashing.”

  She paused for a moment. “You doing okay back there? You’re kind of quiet.”

  “I’m just concentrating. I want it to look nice.”

  “I appreciate the thought, but it looks like I stuck my finger in a light socket no matter what I do.”

  I pictured her hair curlicuing out in crazed, smoking hanks and giggled. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

  “You’re nice. I like you. I think we’re going to be great friends.”

  “I hope so.”