Marked in Shadow's Keep

by LJ Andrews

  The leaves were bright green, with the lush greenwood teeming in unseen life. The fragrant smell of summer wafted through the sedan as Mom rolled down the window once the speed limit slowed.

  I closed my eyes breathing in the spicy scent of pine trees and damp soil. The rain from the night before left the air smelling fresh and clean, a perfect setting for the Martin family annual tradition. Tyler leaned his head against the back window, appearing solemn and thoughtful.

  “What’s eating you kid?” I asked, looking over the armrest.

  Tyler looked at me from the corner of his eye and shrugged. Mom looked up in the review mirror before whispering closer toward my ear, “He’s missing Angelica’s party. I guess it’s a big deal.”

  My chest pulled uncomfortably as annoyance flushed through my system. I watched my brother with darkened eyes, allowing the words to spill over my lips before I could stop them. “You’d rather be at a party right now?”

  Tyler scowled in defense. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Yeah well, you’re acting like it,” I snarled.

  “Laney, take it easy,” Mom chided gently.

  I flipped forward in a huff, my thumb running nervously over the scar on my palm. “I just don’t know how he could want to be anywhere else today.”

  Tyler sighed loudly before spouting off in frustration. “It’s not the same for me Laney, okay! I don’t have the same memories…I don’t have any memories of Dad, to be honest.”

  I glared at my brother, ready to shout at him for his disrespect. This was my dad’s day, his dad’s day! But I stopped when his eyes welled with emotion.

  “It’s okay, Ty,” my mom cooed, giving me a warning look only a mother could give. “Your dad was crazy about you kid, both of you. It breaks my heart you didn’t get the chance to know him. I’m glad you chose to come with us, even though it was the party tonight. It would mean a lot to your dad.”

  I folded my arms over my chest and stared out the passenger window as Mom turned off the main road to the campsite. My conscience burned with guilt for lashing out on my brother. I was a selfish person, never thinking to ask Tyler how he felt about our father’s death. I carelessly had assumed we’d shared similar feelings of loss.

  I was seven when Dad’s car accident happened, Tyler had been two. Of course, it was different for me; I remembered so much about our father. I closed my eyes drifting away in the happy memory of his woodsy aftershave as he scratched my cheeks playfully with his chin stubble. Dad would lay out on the back lawn late at night and point out constellations in the sky every summer, and I would always pack midnight snacks for us to eat.

  I hardly noticed the tear dripping down my cheek as I thought of Dad clutching one of Tyler’s chubby toddler legs with him perched on his shoulders, and dancing with me atop his shoes. So many memories replayed as the car bounded deeper into the woods. I glanced once more at my sullen brother in the backseat. I was riddled with memories, while Tyler only had pictures in photobooks and an old baseball glove he kept on his shelf.

  “I love Dad,” Tyler whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “This is just hard for me because I have no memories to think about, only what you two have told me. I was going to come no matter what, I just also wanted to go to the party. It’s not such a terrible thing.”

  I turned to apologize, but Tyler quickly placed the bulky headphones over his hood and turned the iPod volume up loud enough to drown out my voice.

  I glanced at Mom sheepishly. “I didn’t really think of the difference between us.”

  Mom nodded with understanding, but the mother bear inside her was evident. “Your brother has been through a few things too, Laney. The day your father died left him a boy without a constant man in his life. Your uncle John is the closest male family member, and you know how far Delaware is. He misses your dad, just differently. I think it’s even harder in some ways for Tyler. Can you imagine how he feels hearing all the stories and watching us laugh about the good times when he can’t remember it at all?

  “Just take it easy on him. I know it’s a difficult day for all of us, which is why I promised myself we would always do something fun in honor of your father. He’d be mortified if he saw us moping around all day once a year.”

  My lips pulled into a smile, imagining my fun-loving father ranting on the other side about our dreary attitudes. I nodded and kept my eyes focused out the window until the campsite came into view.

  *

  “Laney, Ty, I need some more wood for the fire. Mind helping me out?” Mom called, as she stoked the small fire. The smells of barbecued chicken and oozing cheese on the Dutch oven potatoes was starting to waft into the air.

  “Come on, let’s go,” I said, tugging on Tyler’s sweatshirt.

  We walked in silence for a few minutes, gathering dry twigs and broken branches. The road was only a hundred feet away, but it still seemed like we were completely alone as no cars passed by. The forest surrounding Shadow Lake was beautiful and serene. Inside, the trees were dense and only splotches of light broke through the tree line creating magical bursts of sunbeams in certain spots on the forest floor.

  Campsites were spread out, and each was enclosed in a grove of trees so overnight and day campers could really immerse themselves in the forest. It was one place I could relax and forget about the horrors of the past.

  My eyes drifted toward Tyler who hadn’t said much since setting up our campsite for the picnic. Clearing my throat, my voice came out awkwardly as I began my attempt to clear the air with my brother. “So, I’m sorry about earlier, Ty. I never took a moment to think how you feel about Dad.”

  “It’s fine,” he said too quickly.

  “Okay, liar,” I responded, picking up a large branch covered in sap-filled knots.

  Tyler tossed a jagged, gray stone forcefully against a pine’s trunk. “I just think sometimes you feel you’re the only one who has dealt with hard things. You and Mom never talk about what happened to you before I was born, but I get tired of having it always tie into Dad’s death. Whenever this day comes, you kind of act like you had some control over what happened to him.

  “I just want this day to be about him. I want to learn more about my dad, Laney. You get sad, I get it. But every time, you always say things like you should have done more, and go into one of your funks. Mom tries to help, but she shouldn’t have to pull you out of whatever guilt you’re feeling about something that happened when you were a kid. Mom should get to think of Dad just as much as we do.”

  He took a deep breath and finished, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go off, I just really want to know Dad more, and sometimes I feel like when we start talking about him, the focus shifts to other things. Maybe it’s just how you deal.”

  I stopped my trudging and peered over my shoulder in surprise. “I…I never knew you felt like that, Ty. I never meant to take away from Dad, and I’m always around to tell you about him, so is Mom. You don’t have to wait for the anniversary.”

  Tyler held up his hands and ran a hand through his long curls. “I know. Just forget it, I shouldn’t have spouted off. Let’s just get back, I’m starving.”

  I watched Tyler walk back toward the rising smoke from the campfire, a large bundle of branches in his arms. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me I’d only eaten half a bagel all day. I clenched my jaw, battling with my brother’s words. If only Tyler knew how guilty I really felt about what had happened to Dad. It was true, at the time I was so young I couldn’t have understood what was happening. But now, I was left to wish, every day, I could go back and do something. I could’ve warned him, or made him stay home. I’d thought it was a nightmare, but now I knew: I had seen my father’s death before it had happened, and I had failed to protect him.

  *

  The car smelled strongly of camp fire by the time Mom dropped me at the apartment.

  “It was a good day,” she said, pulling me into a good-bye hug. “You’re settled okay?”

  I nodded, stretc
hing my neck from being stationary so long. “Everything is great. I even met one of my neighbors. He’s single.” I smiled, enjoying mom’s raised eyebrows as she looked surprised. Tyler simply chuckled from the back seat. I winked at him as I gathered up the plastic bags of leftovers. “He’s also very confident in his boxers and bathrobe. It’s his favorite outfit when he gets his mail.”

  Mom snorted and shoved my shoulder before snapping her fingers at her son. “Tyler, help your sister, her hands are completely full.”

  Obediently, Tyler took half my load and trudged down the wide sidewalk toward the front entrance.

  “Did you have fun?” I asked, holding the bags out a bit to keep them from slapping against my thighs.

  “Yeah, it was great,” Tyler said, his lips actually pulling up into a smile. “I like the story about Dad and Grandpa getting stuck out in the lake after losing their paddles. It’s fun to imagine them trying to steer a raft with the life vests.”

  My smile matched his as I nodded. “Grandpa loved that story.”

  We turned a slight corner, taking mom’s sedan out of view. In a rapid motion, Tyler’s hand shot in front of my stomach, knocking the wind from my lungs.

  “Whoa, watch it. Geez, they should put up a caution sign or something,” he said, pointing to an open manhole in the center of the sidewalk.

  The hole was dark as pitch, and the sight of it caused my head to spin so suddenly, I dropped the bags of food. I stumbled backward as my knees threatened to give out. The fear was crippling, and my lungs burned as they fought to breathe through the overwhelming sense of horror. My heart palpitated rapidly, and my forehead started to sweat.

  “Laney,” Tyler called out, though his voice was muffled as if he were shouting from underwater.

  Slowly, I fell to my knees. My eyes locked on the dark opening as if frozen, waiting for something to creep to the surface. Shadowy blackness twisted up from beneath the manhole, slithering across the sidewalk toward me. My body froze, paralyzing fear swelling in my blood. The outstretched fingers of black sent an electrifying sensation to run, but my knees seemed planted on the cement as if waiting for the darkness to carry me back into the terrible abyss again.

  Warm hands wrapped around my shoulders, and hoisted me from the sidewalk. My mind was foggy, as if filled with cotton, as I was ushered inside the apartment building just as the shadows were going to take me under.

  “Laney, you’re fine,” mom’s voice broke through the muffled terror as we entered the apartment. “You’re okay.”

  “I’ve never seen one so bad,” Tyler said to Mom, his voice low and filled with concern as I collapsed onto the loveseat.

  I hugged a furry pillow against my chest, clutching the puffy softness beneath my chin. My chest burned from the shallow breaths, and it took all my focus to bring my breathing to a normal pace. My mom handed a cup of herbal tea over my shoulder, and sat on the other end of my plush loveseat, running her hands through my hair.

  “How are you doing kiddo?” she asked, as I lifted the tea to my lips. The liquid sloshed in the mug from my trembling hands, and I feared I might spill, but as I drank my hand steadied.

  “I’m okay,” my voice came out as a whisper. “Sorry, if I scared you Tyler.”

  My brother shook his head, watching me with a protective gaze from a kitchen stool. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Heavy silence descended upon the room. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment for my unfortunate behavior. Years had passed since I’d experienced such debilitating fear. I had been sixteen, and was invited to a Halloween dance with Chance Griffin. He was the captain of the basketball team, and I had been over the moon.

  I shuddered, remembering how I’d crouched in the corner of the pop-up haunted house, screaming and covering my eyes. Chance ended up taking me home early, and I was officially tagged as the “girl who was afraid of the dark”. After that, I spent most weekends at home until graduation.

  “Laney, sweetie,” Mom began with care, “are you scheduled to see Doctor Stewart soon?”

  Closing my eyes, I nodded. “I go on Wednesday, it’s my slow day at work.”

  Mom sipped her steaming mug. “I think that’s good. I think that’s good,” she repeated, patting my knee. “You’re going to beat this thing, Laney. You’re going to get these nightmares to stop. I just know it.”

  I winced, fighting the urge to cry. Nothing was worse than the look Mom was giving. The look of sympathy. The look that meant my mom knew her daughter was different from other girls. Though I didn’t know it yet, my mother’s declaration was beginning to take form. Just not in the way our small family would hope.

  Chapter 3

  I counted out a customer’s withdrawal and slid the money across the counter. The older woman smiled politely as she double checked her stack of bills before shakily placing them in an oversized wallet.

  “Have a nice day,” I said, my voice coming out in a high tone as the woman turned away.

  My manager stood close by and smiled coyly once my station was clear. “You’re so good with the customers.”

  “Thanks, Dale,” was all I could choke up. And only because he was my manager, and there was no way to pretend I hadn’t heard the compliment when I was standing in front of him. The bank was small with only three teller stations. Now that the old woman had left, the bank felt empty with only the click-clacking of the other teller, Gloria, typing away on her computer.

  “Have you given any more thought to taking those night courses I told you about?” Dale asked, leaning over the counter. His swirling hazel eyes were handsome, but not when he delivered that annoying wink every time he looked my direction.

  His chinstrap was thin, and I didn’t see the point of having a single line of facial hair along the edge of the jaw. I supposed Dale could be considered handsome to some girls, but to me, his pretentiousness undid anything good-looking about his features.

  “You know, I could really use someone like you in the accounting department. That’s where the real money is, Lane,” he continued. My nose crinkled at the use of the nickname I only allowed my mother to use. “You think I would drive the Camaro if I’d stayed a teller?”

  Gloria rolled her eyes behind her bifocals and scrolled through the deposits on her screen. I didn’t respond, but turned away to lock up my teller drawer, hoping Dale would disappear behind his office door.

  “I can get you in down at the community college,” Dale said, leaning closer. “I know the dean pretty well.”

  “Uh, thanks,” I responded, intentionally taking a big step back. “Why don’t you bring in a number or pamphlet tomorrow. I’ve got to get going.”

  “Oh, I forgot you’re off early on Wednesdays. You know, Gloria could keep an eye on things if you want to talk about enrolling over a burger. I’m positive I could get you a personal meeting.”

  “Uh, thanks Dale, but maybe another time,” I replied in a long, drawn breath, pulling my bag over my shoulder. “I actually have an appointment.”

  “Oh, well let me drive you. I could wait, and we could go after.” He stood halfway out the door now, holding it open for me.

  My eyes widened. He’s impossible. Adjusting my pleated skirt, I straightened my shoulders and inched toward the front door.

  Gloria met my eye from across the lobby. The middle-aged woman nodded her head. I knew what she was saying. Dale needed a rejection, but in a well-thought, unique way. A way sure to make any man cringe.

  “Thanks, Dale, where is your car?” I asked, my tone changing into a false sound of excitement. “The appointment is just at the gynecology clinic down the road. You know, lady visits.” I whispered the last dramatically, enjoying every awkward twitch in his neck as I pushed through the glass doors.

  “Oh,” he said, his lips forming a perfect ‘O’ as he ran his finger around his starched collar. “Well, you know, come to think of it I better not leave Gloria alone. Corporate’s new policy states a manager must be on site at all times.”

/>   I clicked my tongue and popped my hip, feigning disappointment. “That’s a drag. Maybe next time.”

  When I slammed the door of my old Camry, the muffled laugh exploded as Dale rushed back into the bank, the tips of his ears bright pink. I twiddled my fingers in a sarcastic farewell wave behind his back before leaving the bank behind.

  Doctor Stewart’s office was across town in the main medical mall in Shadow’s Keep. Vanessa, the receptionist whose hair was the color of an Easter egg, waved kindly as I turned into the suite. I returned the greeting and flipped through a magazine.

  “Laney,” Doctor Stewart called after I’d only waited for five minutes. “Good to see you, won’t you come in?”

  I took a deep breath, afraid of admitting to Doctor Stewart I’d had another episode. The office was simple inside. Doctor Stewart had a basic desk with no pictures of family or relatives, only a pen and inkwell and a purple orchid on the corner. His credentials and degrees were framed and hung in a straight line on one wall. In the center of the room there was an old leather wing-backed chair the doctor used during visits. He wasn’t a tall man, matching myself in height, but the chair caused him to appear much broader than was true. Directly across from his seat, was a white, oversized chair and a box of tissues on a three-legged table.

  Doctor Neal Stewart had been counseling me since I was twelve. It was the final resort my mother tried to combat the recurring nightmares, and my episodes as we had named them.

  It had taken a few visits, but soon the doctor and I had developed a rapport, and he was one of my most dependable confidants. I swallowed what seemed to be a baseball in my throat. My back was stiff as I clasped my hands in my lap once I sat in the client chair. I was certain Doctor Stewart would be upset I’d allowed my mind to get the best of my senses. We’d made progress over the last year since graduation, and I was so close to facing the repressed memories Doctor Stewart believed to be the key to releasing me from my nightmares.