Authors: Unknown
I rubbed my fingers across my forehead. “I wish I could have talked to Dad about all this before he died. It might’ve made things easier to understand.”
“John knew he wouldn’t be here to help you if you inherited the gift.” Mom slumped forward. “I don’t know if he had a premonition of what was to come. He wouldn’t tell me. That’s why he wrote everything down for you.”
“Then he did have a journal.”
“I would have burned it long ago, but he made me swear I would save it for you.”
“Where is it? Can I see it?”
“It’s packed away in a box at the top of my closet. I’ll get it for you in the morning.”
“I can’t wait until morning. I need to see it now.”
“Brendon, sweetie, after everything that’s happened, why don’t you go to bed? You could use a good night’s sleep.”
I laughed even though nothing was funny. “I wish I could, but I haven’t slept good for a month.”
Chapter Twenty–Six
I read long into the night. Dad’s journal wasn’t what I expected. The pages weren’t filled with incantations to expel demons, or recipes for magic potions. Instead, the faded sheets contained messages about how to grow as a man. His words were simple, his handwriting plain. I rubbed my fingertips over the ink strokes. My father’s hand had touched these pages. His essence lingered there. The message of his words—honesty, humility, and kindness—resonated in my brain, but between the lines, the love he extended seeped into my heart.
Just before dawn, something struck at me. The lure of the wilderness drew me from the house. I set my father’s journal on the top of the fridge and grabbed a sweatshirt on the way out the door. Carson’s pickup would suit my purpose fine; a camp chair, matches, and an ice chest, hopefully containing a soda for when I got thirsty, were already stashed in the back.
I started the engine and drove as quietly as I could away from the house. Instead of heading for the main highway, I took the dirt road that wandered back into the Capay hills. Dad’s journal urged me to open my mind and expand my love of nature. Grandfather said to see with my mind and feel with my heart. I tried to follow both their instructions. A couple miles from the house, I steered the pickup off the road and cut the engine.
The pull was strong. Something called to me, drew me to this place beneath a lone oak tree with a hollowed out center. I climbed from the cab and glanced at the black night sky. The moon had set. The twinkling stars didn’t shine. First light wouldn’t appear for another hour. I stood in the middle of nowhere, but my instincts told me this was where I was supposed to be.
The beam from the headlights helped in the search for wood. I gathered a few small branches and sticks of wood to build a fire, but not for warmth. My father had cautioned me when I was a child not to look directly into a campfire. Now that I was a man, I understood why: The flames were the gateway to the spirit world.
The dried twigs flamed quickly from the lit match. I piled on smaller sticks and added short, splintered branches I’d broken across my knee. As the wood crackled and snapped to life, I set up the canvas chair and pulled a soda from the ice chest. I settled into the chair, popped the top on the can, and waited.
The fire burned bright for awhile before settling into a low flame. The embers glowed hot. Orange sparks shot up and sizzled to the ground. I stared into the fire, but nothing stared back. What was I missing? Why didn’t a vision appear in the fire?
Earlier at broken bridge, Paul had poured beer on the flames, but I had already glimpsed my grandfather’s face in the campfire, so that couldn’t be the problem. I’d had a drink of beer, but not enough to put me into a mind numbing stupor so I would hallucinate. The obstacle seemed to be my current mood. I was too uptight, too expectant. I needed to relax, empty my mind, and become one with the night.
My head flopped back and I breathed in the cool, clean air. As I exhaled, I pushed out the tension and anxiety with my spent breath. I slid out of the chair and knelt in front of the fire. My hands slapped a rhythmic beat against my denim clad thighs. I closed my eyes and hummed the ancient chanting of my grandfather.
A flash of heat flared against my cheeks. Smoke filled my nostrils and made me cough. I opened my eyes. There in the midst of the fire, the face of a man formed in the spiraling smoke. He didn’t take on the image of my grandfather, nor my father, but I recognized him as the fallen hiker in my dreams. His blond hair glowed white in the flames. The reflection of the fire glinted in his blue eyes. He rose with the smoke until he reached my eye level. His mouth moved. I leaned closer to hear his words.
“My family needs you.”
“Who is your family?” I asked.
“You know them,” he whispered on a puff of smoke.
I shook my head.
“The evil that possesses my body threatens to destroy them.”
“How can I help them?”
“Give them your protection.”
“I’ll try.”
“You have the power.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m the shadow of my former self.”
I shrugged, uncertain what he meant. “What can I do to help you?”
“Nothing.” Light from the pending sunrise suppressed the glow of the fire. His form diminished in size. “All I ask is that you keep my family safe.”
I glanced behind me at the coming dawn shimmering behind the Sierra’s before turning back. “What about you?”
His image shrank into the fire. “You can’t keep a shadow safe. I disappear in direct sunlight.”
“But there must be a way,” I shouted as his face faded into the embers. He was gone. My words lingered in the air.
I crawled back into the chair. A couple swallows remained in the soda can. I gulped them down to clear the smoke from my throat. My eyes stung from lack of sleep. I rubbed at them with the back of my hand.
Who was this shadow of a man who asked for my help? He said I knew him, but I couldn’t recall. All he wanted was for me to protect his family from evil. How could I do that if I didn’t know who they were? My helplessness increased, and I questioned the ability to accept this gift I’d inherited from my father. I wasn’t capable of helping anyone. I couldn’t even keep a shadow safe.
Chapter Twenty–Seven
“Are you having a hot dream?”
“Carson?” I forced open my eyelids and glanced around the bedroom. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to get you.”
Still in a groggy haze, I tried to make my mind function. “Your car keys are on top of the TV.”
“I already got it, X–man. Your mom and grandma dropped off the pickup on their way to Woodland.”
“No one’s here?” I rolled over so I faced the wall. “No wonder it’s so quiet.”
His foot shoved against my hip. “Get your butt out of bed.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the clock. Three o’clock. I’d slept away the morning and now it was afternoon. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten anything since last night, but I wanted more sleep. I pulled the covers over my head. “Go away.”
“You don’t want to go to the corn maze?”
“Corn maze,” I mumbled. “Are you nuts? I’m not going anywhere but back to sleep. This is the first time in a month I haven’t had nightmares.”
“Okay, X–man. If that’s what you want. I’ll just tell the new girl you didn’t want to go out with her tonight.”
“What?” I threw off the covers and sat up on the bed. “What are you talking about?”
With a goofy grin on his face, he stood by the closet door. “Didn’t I tell you last night about our plans?” He pulled a red polo shirt from the hanger and tossed it to me.
I caught it in midair and set it on the bed. “You rambled on about something, but I thought you were drunk.”
“Then you better shower and shave because you, me, Lisa, and Sherry are going to Vacaville for pizza and a trip through the maze.” He stepped aside as I darted for the hallway. “Oh, and Mrs. Stratton is driving,” he said just before I slammed the bathroom door.
****
“It’s about time you got here.” Monica stood in the doorway, the car keys in one hand and the strap of her black leather purse in the other. “Let’s go.” She dispensed with the courtesy of inviting us into the house and headed for the driveway. Lisa and Sherry were right behind her.
The women must have coordinated their outfits in advance. They all wore running shoes and long sleeved tee shirts tucked into jeans. At least their shirts were different colors. Monica wore white, Sherry pink, and Lisa had on a blue tee that matched the color of her eyes.
“Hey, Lisa,” I whispered as I slipped my hand into hers. “I was worried I wouldn’t see you until Monday. How’d you talk your mom into this?
“Sherry and I planned it last night, then hit her with it this morning.”
I glanced at Sherry on the other side of Lisa. “Thanks. I owe you one.”
“This wasn’t just for you. The breakup with Paul had me down.” A little smile played on her lips. “I needed to get out of the house so I wasn’t sitting around feeling sorry for myself.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Spending time with friends ought to cheer you up and make you laugh.” I was already laughing at Carson. He ran in circles around Monica like he was a little dog.
“Are we taking the Hummer?” His tongue almost hung out of his mouth. “Please say yes.”
“Yes,” she confirmed. She shot me a hard glare when she noticed Lisa’s hand in mind. “My daughter will ride in the front.”
“Can I drive?” Carson asked.
“No, you may not.”
“Oh, come on. I’m a good driver. I drove my first tractor when I was nine.”
“No.” She opened the door and slipped behind the wheel, securing her position. “I’m driving.”
Carson held the door so she couldn’t close it. “Then let me ride shotgun.”
“What?” Her forehead wrinkled. “Oh, you mean passenger. No, Lisa is riding there.”
“How about if I sit in the middle?”
“There is no middle. Only the console.”
He stuck his head through the open door way and looked across Monica. “I can sit there. Come on, please.”
“Mom, Carson loves this car. Unless you want to listen to him cry all the way to Vacaville, you’ll have to let him sit in the front.”
“I could always leave him here,” she threatened.
“Oh, Mom.” Carson laid his head on her shoulder. “Please, let me sit in the front.”
She pushed away his head. “How do your parents put up with you?”
“I don’t have any. I was raised by wolves.”
“I believe it.” Her lips clamped into a thin, tight line when he gave her that lost little puppy look. She waved her hand at the seat beside her. “Oh, get in. Lisa can ride in the back.”
Carson closed the door and ran around to the other side. I opened the back door and let the girls slide in. I wanted to ride behind Monica so she couldn’t glare at me over her shoulder. As soon as she backed out of the driveway, Carson changed the radio station to country western and cranked up the volume. Hank was on, and he sang along. In his own goofy way, he could be charming. Monica tried to keep a stern expression, but he had her laughing out loud by the time we reached Vacaville.
We stopped for pizza at one of the few places she trusted not to use peanut oil. She probably wasn’t trying to be cheap, but she only ordered one large vegetarian.
“I can tell you’re not used to feeding growing boys.” I squeezed to the front and spoke to the cashier. “Add the extra large meat lover’s pizza, a bunch of that garlic bread, and some salad.”
Monica shoved my hand away when I pulled money from my wallet. “I’m paying for this, but there better not be one uneaten piece left.”
“Did you hear that, Carson? We’ve just been challenged to a pizza eating contest.”
A huge grin covered his face. “Then you better order us a third pizza.”
“Oh, no.” She pulled me away from the counter. “Two is plenty. I’m not going to chance anyone barfing in my car.”
Not a single crust of pizza remained when we headed for the corn maze. We were lost deep in the center when Carson put on his serious face.
“Did you guys hear what happened the other night?” His eyes got wide as he shot a nervous glance over his shoulder. “Some dude wearing a hockey mask and carrying a chain saw jumped out of one of the rows and hacked up a bunch of people.”
“Oh, Carson.” Monica rolled her eyes. “You are not going to scare the girls with that story. They’re too smart for that sort of nonsense.”
I hid my smile behind my hand. The girls weren’t the ones Carson planned to scare.
She glanced at the map in her hands. “I think the exit is this way.”
Carson snuck off to the side. I grabbed the hand of each of the girls and pulled them back, allowing Monica to take the lead.
“What’s that noise?” I tried to put a worried sound into my voice. “Is that a chain saw?”
“You’re not going to frighten anyone,” she said over her shoulder.