Keepers of the Flame
Read Keepers of the Flame Online
Authors: Robin D. Owens
ROBIN D. OWENS
KEEPERS OF THE
FLAME
To readers,
May hope always be your friend.
Contents
All my fellow
LUNA authors, my critique group,
and the health care professionals in my life who know
what I’m talking about, Morgan de Thouars, and Rita Mills,
and Mountain Mehndi for Bri’s design.
Denver, Last of
May, early afternoon
H
e wasn’t worth
it. Elizabeth Drystan stomped down the grocery store aisle, pushing her metal
basket hard. The damn thing had a wonky wheel, of course, and Elizabeth reveled
in the necessity of using force.
The
man wasn’t worth her heartbreak. Heartbreak? More like her heart had been
ripped out, leaving a horrible, bloody, aching core. As a newly board-certified
doctor starting a job in Denver Major Hospital next month, she knew her
physical heart still beat. But, oh, her emotional one was shredded into pieces.
The
jerk, Cassidy, had said she was “crowding” him. He “needed space.” Just when
she thought she could plan the rest of her life—starting with a wedding. After
a year, Cassidy had broken their engagement. Because he needed
space
.
Elizabeth
had told him to go to Wyoming.
And
the inexplicable auditory illusions—chanting, gongs and chimes—were taking her
to the edge of temper and sanity. Even now she had to block the sounds from her
mind.
She
took a corner fast and crashed into another cart. The jolt sang up her arms.
She opened her mouth to spew and saw her twin sister, Bri, who was supposed to
be in Sweden—purple-streaked hair and all. Elizabeth burst into tears.
Bri
reached for her, hugging and soothing. “I knew something was wrong. I had to come
back.”
Elizabeth
didn’t care where her free-spirited sister had been, only that she was holding
her. Her tears were dripping down Bri’s fallen earbuds and she wondered if salt
water damaged them. The silliness of that thought made her gasp, choke, and
stifle the water flow. Digging into her cart for one of the already opened
boxes of tissues, Elizabeth wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “God, am I glad
you came.”
Bri
patted her on the shoulder. “I knew you were sad.” Her jaw tightened. “Man
problems, right? That Doctor Medical-Prodigy-Slick-Hunk-Son-Of-A-Bitch. I told
you he was an arrogant snob of a bastard. Finally showed his true colors.”
Elizabeth
hugged her again. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Actually,
I’m back for good.”
That
was startling and Elizabeth welcomed the distraction, even if she didn’t
believe it. “Really?” She stepped back to scan Bri’s face under her spiky hair
of brown and purple. There was an unaccustomed seriousness in her hazel gaze
along with…uncertainty?
Shrugging,
Bri flushed. “No place like home, right?”
“So
they say.” But lately Elizabeth had begun to feel a change of venue might be
good. She could reconsider her decision about starting at Denver Major
Hospital. Take a long break, call around to some of her other offers. Her feet
were actually tingling. She wondered if that was what Bri called “itchy feet.”
“Elizabeth?”
Bri was smiling. “You went away on me.”
That
was usually Elizabeth’s phrase to her twin.
After
one last blow into her tissue, Elizabeth tucked it away into a plastic baggie
in her purse, took out an antiseptic towlette packet, opened it and wiped her
hands.
Looking
amused, Bri rolled up her earbuds and slipped her player in her purse. “Feel
better?”
“Always,
when you’re here.”
Bri
looked away, then back, hunched a shoulder. “You know why I’ve been gone. I had
to see if other places were more accepting of…our talent.”
Elizabeth
never wanted to talk about that subject. “The folks will be glad to see you.
They were hoping you’d come home for Dad’s birthday.”
“This
time the favors I called in were solid. Got here this morning. Everywhere’s
been interesting. Denver and home is better.”
Touching
the puffiness under her eyes, Elizabeth winced. “My God, look at me, breaking
down in a grocery store!”
Bri
glanced around, “You wouldn’t be the first, and you picked an appropriate
place. Supplies all around. Tiger Balm’s right behind your shoulder and aspirin
on my side of the aisle.” Bri grinned. Elizabeth always thought Bri had gotten
the prettier smile. Bri said since they were identical, Elizabeth had it, too.
That wasn’t true. Bri’s smile was special. Maybe because she was such a free
spirit.
“’Scuse
me,” said a tall, wiry black woman with salt-and-pepper hair, walking down the
aisle. Her face showed irritation—that part which wasn’t covered with a package
of frozen baby peas. “I need one of those instant ice packs.” Her visible eye
rolled to other items on the shelves. “And one of those herbal sinus pillows,
too.”
Bri
moved her cart. “Let’s see,” she said. “I’m a massage therapist.” She tilted
her head toward Elizabeth. “And she’s a medical doctor. What happened?”
A
corner of the woman’s mouth quirked as she walked past Bri to Elizabeth.
“Volleyball.” She took the peas from her face.
Elizabeth
winced in sympathy, checked the woman’s eye, then carefully felt around the
bone. “No other head injury?”
“No.”
“Blurry
vision?”
“No.”
“Looks
like a big black eye.”
The
woman snorted. “Got that.”
“Here,”
Bri said, ripping open the box and twisting the instant ice compress to
initiate the cold. She placed the pack on the woman’s face.
Then
Bri did the unthinkable. Elizabeth
saw
an aura of green pulse from Bri’s
hand through the pack and bathe the woman’s face for long, long seconds.
“I
think you’ll find it looks worse than it is,” Bri said, releasing the compress
after the woman dropped the peas in her basket and held the pack herself.
“Thanks.
It feels better already.”
“Here’s
your sinus pillow.” Elizabeth hoped her voice was less stiff than she felt.
“Thanks
again.” The woman nodded and left.
“Are
you crazy!” Elizabeth whispered. “I want to talk to you!” She jerked her cart
around and headed toward an empty corner of the store.
Smiling,
Bri sauntered after her, tugging her smoothly rolling cart. Elizabeth got her
temper under control by the time her twin reached her.
“What
were you doing!” Elizabeth demanded.
“You
know what I was doing. Just because you deny our gift of healing hands doesn’t
mean I do.”
“You
used it in
a grocery store
.”
“What,
you think healing should only be confined to clinics?” Bri glanced around. “Let
me tell you, this store is pristine compared to some of the places I’ve been.”
She lowered her voice. “The refugee camps I’ve…
worked
…in.”
Elizabeth
clutched the handle of her grocery cart until her knuckles whitened. “Someone
could have seen!”
“Seen
what? It was only a little burst of energy.” Bri’s smile widened. “And well
done, if I say so, myself. That bruise will fade in record time.”
Again
Bri glanced around. “So how many of our fellow shoppers can see healing auras,
do you think? It’s not even an organic store.”
“
Someone
could have seen
,” Elizabeth repeated, unable to put enough distress in
words.
Bri
was frowning now—maybe she’d come to her senses. “You saw how the lady came
straight to you, the doctor. People trust doctors with medical degrees, not
those of us with healing hands. That’s why I’ve decided that you got it right,
working within the Western medical establishment.”
Elizabeth
still didn’t know what to say, and must have appeared as confused as she felt.
Bri
patted her shoulder, but her face went impassive. “I promise I won’t let anyone
know you have the gift, too.”
Elizabeth
winced and rubbed her temples. She could barely hear her sister for the
cacophony once again inundated her mind. “Sorry to snap at you. These damned
chimes are driving me mad!”
Eyes
widening, Bri said, “Chimes? You too?” Her voice dropped. “What about a
gong…and chants?”
Elizabeth
knew her mouth opened and closed like a guppy’s.
“You
hear them, too,” Bri said.
“What?”
Elizabeth whispered, clutching the handle of her cart again.
“Chanting
voices more persistent than the chimes and gong. I thought something was wrong
so got checked out in Sweden by both medical and alternative health
practitioners. No observable or understandable physical or mental problems.”
Swallowing,
Elizabeth said, “I attributed it to emotional trauma.”
“Well,
you’ve had plenty of that. How long?”
“Three
and a half weeks.”