Shadow Keeper

by M. K. Yarbrough

  “Right.”

  “And no hugging or kissing.”

  “What?” I saw her mouth moving, but my mind couldn’t register the words coming out. “No what?”

  “We both want to go slower, so we’ll wait for a while before we move on to kissing.”

  I shook my head in denial. Kissing wasn’t part of the moving slower plan. “How long do you want to wait?” I blurted out.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to put a time limit on it. When it feels right.” Her head was down, but she glanced up with just her eyes. “When it’s special.”

  “Special?” Oh, crap! I had no idea when special was. My mind kicked into overdrive. I was smart. I could figure this out. “You know, Lisa, Cache Creek is one of my favorite places. And here I am for the first time with my girlfriend. I was thinking this is pretty special.”

  “There’s that sense of humor again.” She laughed while struggling to her feet. “You are so funny.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m frigging hysterical.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Hey, X–man,” Carson shouted. “There’s your mom. I mean, our mom.”

  “I’ll be right there, bro.”

  Sherry walked past the blanket on her way to the table. “Your mom wasn’t expecting all of us. I hope she brought enough food.”

  “She expected three hungry guys. She’ll have plenty.”

  Paul trailed a half dozen steps behind Sherry. “There won’t be any left if Carson starts eating before us.”

  I ignored his remark. Carson and I had broken bread together plenty of times. He wouldn’t wolf down the food without making sure everyone else had an equal share. I held out my hand to Lisa. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to my mom.”

  Instead of taking my hand, she dug around in her bag and pulled out a little blue tee shirt. “Let me put on something first.” She slipped it over her head and smoothed the wrinkled material down her body before pushing loose strands of hair back from her face.

  “You don’t have to be nervous about meeting my mom. She’s pretty cool—most of the time.”

  “Brendon!” Stevie ran toward me while struggling into a life vest. “Mom said I could get in the water if you go with me.”

  “Slow down. You’re not going anywhere without getting this hooked up right.” I grabbed the straps on his vest and fastened them.”

  “Who’s she?” he asked.

  “This is Lisa. Guess you haven’t met her yet.”

  He scrunched up his face and looked at me. “Is she the girl you’re always talking to in your sleep?”

  Lisa giggled. “You talk about me in your sleep?”

  I ignored her question and focused on Stevie. “You better behave yourself, or I’m going to toss you in the creek.”

  “Do it.” His voice rose with excitement. “I want you to throw me out there, only real far so I miss all the rocks.”

  “You smart aleck.” I picked him up and tossed him in the air before catching him. “You give me any lip, and I won’t take you out there at all.”

  “Sorry,” he said but didn’t look it; he was laughing too hard.

  Krystal ran toward me dragging a life vest in the sand. “Brendon, will you help me?”

  “Hey, sweetie.” I picked her up and tossed her in the air, but not as high. “Are you having trouble getting this on?”

  She ignored me and looked over my shoulder. “Is she Lisa?”

  “Yeah. Do you remember her?”

  She nodded. “We both have braids.”

  I put Krystal on the ground and hooked up the vest while the two girls talked about their hair.

  “Okay, Stevie.” I sat Krystal on the blanket. “Stay here with your sister while I take Lisa to meet Mom.”

  “Oh, man.” Stevie started with the grumbling.

  “You heard me. And no backtalk.” I grabbed Lisa’s hand as we walked to the picnic table.

  “Is that your mom wearing the straw hat?”

  “Yeah. She’s got red hair and fair skin, and doesn’t like to sunburn.”

  “That must be why she’s wearing that long sleeved shirt and baggy jeans.”

  “I guess. But sometimes I wonder if it’s so she won’t attract any attention. Even after all these years, I think my mom is still in love with my dad.”

  Everyone crowded around the table, grabbing plates and dishing out the food except for Carson. He threw one arm around my mom’s shoulders. “X–man and I want to be brothers, so will you adopt me?”

  She patted him on the cheek. “I did that years ago, sweetie.”

  He gave her a big hug. “Thank you, Mom.”

  After he let her go, I introduced Lisa.

  “So you’re Lisa.” Mom walked around the table to us. One eyebrow lifted when she glanced at our joined hands. “Brendon didn’t tell me he was bringing a girl.”

  Lisa put her head down and tried to take a step back, but I held onto her. I’d forgotten how bashful she could be. “It was a spur of the moment thing, Mom. And if I had a cell phone, I might’ve been able to call you.”

  “Of course.” Mom must’ve realized she’d come across too strong, because her voice softened and her eyebrow went back to its normal position. “I really am pleased to meet you, Lisa. On your last visit to the house, I evidently just missed you. I hope you’ll come again soon.”

  “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “You kids must be hungry after all that swimming.” Mom held out two paper plates. “Help yourself. There aren’t any formalities at our picnics.”

  I grabbed both plates and offered one to Lisa, but instead of taking it, she wrapped her arm around mine and pulled me closer.

  “I’m allergic,” she whispered next to my ear.

  I glanced at the food on the table. “It’s all right. There’s nothing here with peanuts in it.”

  Mom’s head snapped up. “What’s this about peanuts?”

  “Lisa is allergic to them.”

  “How allergic?”

  “I could go into anaphylactic shock.”

  “Do you have an epinephrine auto injector?” Mom asked.

  “Yes, but not with me.”

  “It’s all right, Mom.” I glanced at the table once more. “You didn’t put any peanuts in the food, right?”

  “It’s not that simple, Brendon.” Mom’s shoulders squared and her chin came up. That meant she just went into full nurse mode. “Cross contamination is a major concern. If Lisa were to ingest something that had come in contact with peanuts, she could go into anaphylactic shock within minutes. We’re so far away from a hospital out here that she could be dead before a medical helicopter reaches us.”

  “Lisa could die from eating peanuts?” Carson asked.

  “I’m sorry if I got too intense,” Mom said, “but this is serious. Lisa, you must know how important this is and how to take the proper precautions.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Alexander. I do know. And I should have brought my EpiPen.”

  “You have to carry it with you always.” Mom relaxed a little. “Let’s see what we can find for you to eat.”

  “Did you buy the chicken already cooked?” Lisa asked. “Or did you make it yourself?”

  “I made it. And I used vegetable oil to fry it.”

  “What about the potato salad?” I asked. “Eggs, potatoes, pickles. What else is in it?”

  “Celery,” Mom said. “But I don’t trust the mayonnaise. You know how Stevie likes to experiment with sandwiches. I’ve found mayonnaise in the peanut butter jar. No telling what was in the mayonnaise.”

  “You can have one of these.” I lifted the lid on the ice chest and pulled out a soda.

  “Brendon, it’s important that you understand how critical this is,” Mom said. “If you’re going to be around Lisa very much, you’re going to have to be equally careful about what you eat.”

  “Okay, no more peanut butter sandwiches for me.”

  “It’s more than that. You’ll have t
o check labels on everything. If you eat a candy bar with peanuts in it, and then drink out of the same bottle, you could kill her. The same goes for kissing.”

  “Mom!”

  “I’m serious, Brendon.”

  “You don’t have to worry about kissing.” I glanced at Lisa. “We haven’t gotten to that stage yet. We’re taking it slow. Real slow.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  After we ate, Carson and I got Stevie and Krystal on the tubes. Afraid shark attack would scare my little sister, we stuck with bumper cars for about an hour until Mom yelled for us.

  “Let the kids eat,” she said. “It’s getting late, and I want to pack up the food.”

  I towed Krystal to shore while Carson brought in Stevie. When both kids were on dry land, Carson shoved off for deeper water.

  “Do you want more to eat?” I asked.

  “Nah, I’m good. I’m going to float around here until it’s time to go.”

  Sherry had been sitting with Lisa on the blanket, but she hurried over and grabbed the other tube. “Hold on, Carson. I’ll go with you.”

  While Lisa helped Krystal remove her lifejacket, I glanced at Paul. He sat on a rock, watching the action in the creek.

  “Lisa,” Mom said when we sat at the table. “I understand you just moved to Esparto. What brought you here?”

  She put her head down. “My dad.”

  “He’s an anthropologist, right?”

  “Yes, but he’s sick,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Is he seriously ill?”

  Lisa nodded. “He, ah, I guess you could say he suffered a nervous breakdown. He’s in the Woodland hospital right now.”

  “Oh, goodness. I see why you’re worried. I hope he gets better soon.”

  “I don’t know if he can. We need to find...”

  “Find what?” Mom asked when she didn’t continue. “A cure?”

  “Something like that.”

  She patted Lisa’s hand. “This must be extremely difficult for you.”

  “It is. And the worst part is, Daddy doesn’t recognize me, or my mother. Sometimes I feel like he…he’s already dead because he’s gone from my life. Mom won’t let me visit him anymore because she thinks it’s too hard for me.”

  I put my arm around her, wishing I could make her feel better, even though I knew it wouldn’t help. I’d lost my father and no amount of comfort made the emptiness go away.

  “I’m all right.” Lisa gave me a quick smile. “I haven’t given up hope yet. Besides, I have his writings.”

  “Published writings?” Mom asked.

  “No. Well, yes. But I also have his private writings. He kept a journal from the time I was born. Whenever I start missing him, I read the passages he wrote about our happy times together. It’s almost like he’s talking to me. Then I remember him for the father he once was.”

  “I’m glad you have something that gives you comfort,” Mom said.

  “I wish I had something of Dad’s.”

  Mom’s head snapped around. “What do you mean?”

  “All I’ve got is a few pictures, and I remember so little about him. If I had something of his to read, it might help me know him better.”

  Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

  “How long ago did he die?” Lisa asked.

  “About six years ago,” I said.

  “Was he ill for a long time?”

  “No, he wasn’t sick. He...” My mind went blank. I looked at Mom. She didn’t like to talk about him, but since she was being so sympathetic about Lisa’s father, maybe she’d tell me something about mine. “How did Dad die?”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “I know, but how?”

  “Later. All right?” Mom put her elbow on the table. Her fingers pressed at her temple, hiding her face.

  The awkward silence was broken by Lisa. “What kind of work did their father do?”

  “What difference does it make?” she snapped. “He’s not here anymore.”

  “I’m sorry if I upset you.” Lisa sunk lower on the bench.

  “I’m sorry also.” Mom took a sip from the water bottle. “Why do you want to know what he did?”

  “Brendon wants to go to college and study ancient civilizations.” She shrugged. “I was just curious if his father did the same kind of work.”

  Mom swiped a hand over her forehead, but didn’t speak. She glanced at the ground beside the table and got all jittery, like she was thinking of running away.

  I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. Mom wasn’t over his death. I tried to come to her rescue. “Dad was a carpenter. Isn’t that right?”

  “No.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Why do you think that?”

  “He was always building things. He built that gazebo in the backyard of our old house.”

  “We didn’t have a gazebo.”

  “Yes, we did. I helped him build it.”

  “You were too young to remember that.”

  “I remember handing him nails and holding the hammer for him.” My memory sharpened as the past flew into the present. “I helped him paint a big red circle in the middle of the floor, kind of like a wagon wheel. He painted funny symbols in each of the spaces between the spokes.”

  “That wasn’t a gazebo.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “It was…It was…a grape arbor.”

  “I don’t remember any grapes.”

  “We hadn’t planted any yet.” Mom picked up the bottle and brought it to her lips, but didn’t take a drink. “Is that all you remember?” She held the bottle in front of her face, shielding her expression from me.

  My mind travelled back six years to the last time I saw my dad. “I remember sitting on the floor in the middle of the red circle. You sat next to me holding Stevie in your lap. Dad handed Krystal to me, she was just a baby, and told me that no matter what I hear or what I see, I was to stay in the circle.” A knot clenched in my belly. My body broke out in a cold sweat. Something horrible happened, but my mind wouldn’t dig any deeper. “That’s all I remember.”

  “There was lightening,” Stevie said.

  “What?” Mom glanced at him.

  “There was lightening the night Daddy died,” he repeated.

  “You can’t remember that. You were barely four years old.”

  Lisa stood up. “Why don’t I take Krystal to the blanket so the rest of you can talk?”

  “There’s no need,” Mom said. “We’re through discussing this.”

  I shook my head as my frustration grew. I wanted to know about my dad. “If you won’t talk about him, can I at least see the things he left behind?”

  “He didn’t leave anything.”

  “Oh, come on, Mom. You never throw anything away.”

  “Did you keep his journal?” Lisa asked.

  “Journal?” Mom’s back stiffened. “John didn’t have a journal.”

  “Oh?” Lisa’s eyebrows rose in a show of surprise. “He never wrote in a journal all the things he wanted to pass on to his son about his work?”

  “No.” Mom’s tone was sharp.

  My gaze darted back and forth between the two of them as they stared at each other. This wasn’t like Lisa. She seldom looked anyone in the eye. And when did she become so confrontational? She’d practically called my mother a liar. But she was spot on about my dad. “I remember him writing in a journal.”

  Mom flinched. Her glare shifted to me. “There is no journal.”

  “Did you destroy it?” Lisa asked.

  The sharp gasp of air Mom sucked in was the only sound at the table for a long moment.

  Something weird just happened. Lisa practically accused her of destroying my dad’s journal. The funny thing was...my mother looked guilty.

  “It’s getting late.” Mom hopped off the bench. “Let’s get the food put away.”

  She threw things around so fast that I stood back and watched. When she had the food packed up, I ca
rried it to the car.