Clan of Redemption (7 page)

We ate breakfast, but I
kept thinking about where that tarp had gone and I didn’t want to
risk asking Sully while my Dad was in earshot. Breakfast tasted so
good, Dad’s eggs are always the perfect over easy, and his bacon is
never to greasy and is always the right crispiness.

“Ok Dad, Sully and I are
going to go get dressed and then I’ll call around about the Saska,”
I said as I started leaving the kitchen.

“Hey Jayden, can you wait
just a sec, I’d like to talk to you,” Dad said as he started to
gather our breakfast dishes.

“Sully, go ahead upstairs,
take Saska with you, I’ll meet you in a few minutes.”

I knew this conversation
was not going to go very well.

“What’s up Dad, was there
something else on your mind?” I asked, but I knew exactly what he
wanted to know from me.

“So, did you get a chance
to read your Mom’s letter yet?” he asked as he was rinsing the
plates to put in the dishwasher.

“No, not yet, we didn’t
get home until late last night and I wanted to be fresh, maybe I
might get to it tonight. Sorry Dad,” I said with sympathy. I knew
how much he wanted to read the letter.

“Oh honey, it’s ok, it’s
your letter I just wanted to read it and hear your mother’s voice
in my head again,” he looked up and winked at me.

I hated to lie to my dad, I
hardly ever do, and this is not one of the times that I wanted
to.

“Ok Dad, we’ll I’ll let
you know when I do. I love you.” I went up and hugged him and it
felt so good. My Dad has been so supportive of me, always cheering
me on in whatever I decided to do, even if it’s something he’s not
fond of.

I went upstairs still
thinking about the fact that I had just lied to my Dad about
something that means so much to him, why can’t I show him the
letter, what laws was mom talking about? She makes it sound like
we’re part of some secret society. I decided at that moment that I
would find out what all these things meant.

Sully was waiting for me
sitting on the bed, petting Saska. Sully has never seemed to like
pets much, but she seemed to like this one.

“So, I went outside looking
for that tarp, can you think who might have put it next to the
house under your Dad’s boat?” Sully said while staring at the
dog.

“What, you think the dog
put it there? How would he have known what the police were saying?”
I said to Sully as she jumped off the bed to face Saska.

“Saska, go get Jayden’s
hair brush,” Sully said while crossing her arms.

Saska jumped off the bed,
went over to Jayden’s vanity, scooped up her hairbrush, and brought
it to Sully. Sully took the hairbrush and looked t me
like

“I told you so,” she said
with a grin.

“So…what you’re saying
that he understands English,” I said with contempt.

“This all seems a little
too much like Saturday morning cartoons, Sully”.

“Why is this so hard for
you to grasp, why would this not be possible,” Sully said while she
climbed back on the bed and crossed her legs.

“OK, so say it's real. How
is he able to understand us?” I said as I sat down on the bed with
defeat.

I pulled my Mom’s letter
out from under the bed and I read it aloud to her. She just sat
there with her mouth open when I finished.

“Well what do you think?”
I asked knowing that it was so cryptic.

“Wow that was like
listening to a twilight zone episode. So, that letter was written
almost 12 years ago?” Sully lay back on the bed.

“I don’t know, but I have
to find out what all this stuff means,” I said as I looked at the
clock on my nightstand.

I got up, went to the
closet, and picked out some clothes for the funeral. I didn’t dress
up much so I didn’t have much of a choice, but I grabbed a dark
blue dress that was sleeveless and had a pattern of flowers on it,
it was my favorite dress more so because the it felt like you
weren’t wearing anything, it is so light weight. My shoes were
black heels about an inch tall, I was already a tall girl about 5’
8” so I tend to wear flats whenever I can.

After I got dressed, Sully
said goodbye and told me she would call me after the funeral. I
went downstairs and called all the local pounds and shelters to see
if anyone reported a dog missing. No one had, I left my name and
number with a description of the dog and left it at that. I had my
doubts that anyone would call, with all the weirdness going around
I just felt that this dogs place was next to me.

I was standing in the
kitchen just staring out at the back yard when my Dad put his arm
around my shoulder.

“Are you ready, sweet pea?”
My Dad loved to call me that.

“I’m not ready to say
goodbye, but I’m ready to get this over with,” I said as I put my
hand over my dad's.

My dad drove to the
church; it was only a few minutes from our house. I loved living in
this town; different shades of green smothered the
ground.

We arrived about 15
minutes early and we still had to park several blocks away. Logan
was a well-known guy in the community; he was always donating his
time. He would collect food for the food banks, help with
maintenance at the church that his funeral was now being held at,
and his favorite was to pop in and be a TA to the local elementary
schools. Kindergartners were his favorite.

“Was it necessary to bring
that dog?” My dad moaned as he got out of the car.

“Yes dad, he’s part of our
family now, and his name is Saska. I don’t think he likes to be
called
dog
,” I
said as I opened the back door to let Saska jump out.

“I don’t think they allow
animals into the church,” Dad frowned as he waited for
us.

“Well, we'll just have to
sneak him in then,” I grinned.

By the time we walked up
to the entrance of the church, most of the people were already
seated inside. The only open benches were in the back, which worked
for me since I didn’t want to draw attention. I do think he might
have a point about animals in churches, but whatever. Better to ask
forgiveness than permission.

Dad sat in the aisle seat
and I sat next to him, with Saska lying on the floor by my
feet.

This church is my
favorite, Logan and I would come just to sit in the benches and
stare up at the stain glassed windows that lined the ceiling that
seem to correspond to the heavens. Logan and I use to talk about
how long it must have taken to make the angels in the windows and
who might the artist have been?

The sermon started and it
brought my attention back from my warm memories. I could barely
hear what he was saying, but I am sure it was all nice
things.

“So, are you going to get
up and say anything about him?” a voice whispered to me in my right
ear from behind me.

I recognized the
voice.

Saska raised his head and
started to rumble. Ok, now I can see why maybe the dog should have
stayed home.

I turned to him and he was
smiling at me, the guy that saved my life last night. I finally was
able to look at him with every piece of my eye. He had a stocky
build like Logan, but his face was more oval with a softer look
throughout his face. His eyes are almond shaped, but the color
brown is so dark, they looked like they were swirling every few
seconds. Just like Logan's eyes but brown. His eyebrows looked more
manicured than that of a typical man. I wonder if he plucks them?
His lips are fluffy and wide and when he smiled that made the
dimples pop out. I wanted to just stare at him; but I had to look
away, I could feel the red creeping up my face. What was he doing
here, how did he know about Logan?

“Umm…No, I don’t do well
in front of crowds,” I said as I felt my face start to turn shades
of unnatural color.

My Dad had gotten up and
went towards the front to speak about Logan. My Dad adored Logan,
he was one guy that my Dad never worried about. When Logan and I
would go out, he never seemed concerned with curfews. It probably
helped that I didn’t date, so to my Dad, Logan was my best friend
and not a threat to his little girl, but a bodyguard.

“I’m sure you are a
wonderful speaker, Jayden,” he said.

I could smell his cologne
and it was driving me crazy, it clouded my mind while I was trying
to figure out how he knew my name. I closed my eyes to take a deep
breath just so that I could savor that smell. It made me want to
sit closer to him even though I didn't know him.

“So what are you doing
here, did you know Logan?” I asked with the thought of my mother's
words ringing in my head “do not trust as easily as you have in the
past”.

“Actually Logan and I are
half-brothers,” he said as he watched for an expression on my
face.

Saska started to growl,
softly.

“It’s ok Saska,” I said as
I stroked his fur along his neck. He nuzzled his face into my
hand.

“Nice looking dog, how
long have you had him?” this stranger who claimed to be Logan's
brother asked me. A brother I had never heard about.

Ever.

“He’s been in the family
for years,” I said as I kept my hand on Saska.

“Logan never mentioned a
brother before?” I asked with a hint of anger. If this was true, I
was starting to feel a little betrayed that Logan wouldn’t have
told me about him.

“Logan didn’t know about
me until just recently. I apologize, I haven’t introduced myself. I
am Blake Hamilton,” he said as he reached his hand out for me to
shake.

“So you too have
what…different mothers,” I said as I ignored his hand.

“Yes, same fathers but
different mothers. My mother didn’t want to be a burden so she kept
me a secret, and I took her last name,” he said as he turned
towards me.

“So how long has this dog
been in the family?” he said as he reached to pet Saska.

Saska snapped at
him.

Well that settles
that.

“I really need to listen
to what's going on. Logan was my best friend and I owe him my
respect right now, plus my Dad’s getting ready to speak.” I bent
down and put my face next to Saska’s.

“Hey boy, be nice, no
causing trouble right now. We are in church. I don’t think they
would appreciate you as much as I do,” I said while I laughed
quietly.

I could barely hear my
dad; he started talking about when we first met Logan and how he
was always at our house.

It was hard to hear the
rest but my mind started to wander to when my mother died. I was
such a little girl, only nine, and not ready to be hit with such a
tragic experience. My mother and I were very close, and her death
was very hard on me. When I would get scared at night, I would
crawl into bed with my mom and dad knowing that I would immediately
feel at ease and that whatever was bothering me was
gone.

My mom was always involved
at school, it helped that she didn’t have to work. She would come
to class several times a week and help the teacher with special
projects that were going on like carnivals for fundraisers, baking
sales, and she loved to come help the teacher with math. She was
always a favorite with my classmates, especially the boys. My mom
was a very beautiful woman; she had long red hair that seemed wave
all around her. I guess I have the same hair as my mom. I remember
she use to love to brush my hair and she would style our hair the
same. She called us twins. I loved that, since I didn’t have any
siblings. With my Mom at home, she had time to do cooking and other
projects around the house. On Saturdays, I would help her make her
coffee and we would go outside and paint; she called me her little
Picasso.

Being at this funeral was
bringing up memories that I hadn’t thought about in a long
time.

I remember the day like it
just happened yesterday. I was in third grade, and loved school. My
Mom was supposed to show up to help our class out with a play that
we were planning. She was going to show up before lunch, I loved it
when my Mom ate lunch with me. Lunch came and went and she still
hadn’t shown up yet, I started to wonder where she was and I got
worried. My worries got worse when I saw my Dad show up and I knew
that something was definitely wrong. I was very young but I knew
when I saw my Dad whisper in my teacher’s ear and she gasped and
put her hands over her face and started to cry. My Dad walked past
the front tables, stopped at my desk, bent down, and got real close
to my face.

“Honey, let’s get your
things together, ok,” he said as he put his hand over
mine.

“Where’s Mom, she was
suppose to be here today,” I said as I started to get
up.

“It’s ok honey, let’s get
your coat.” He walked over to the wall where we all had put our
coats and bags.

We collected our stuff,
and I remember looking back at my teacher, she was wiping her face
off with a tissue. She gave me a look, and at the time I didn’t
know what it meant, but looking back, she was giving me the look of
sympathy, telling me with her face how sorry she was for
me.