In the Arms of Stone Angels - By Jordan Dane Page 0,45
mother was determined to play dress up. And I was her Barbie.
Two Days Later
After Mom made me look more presentable, so I wouldn’t scare off little kids or stray cats, I kept a low profile and helped her with Grams’s house over the next couple of days. I needed time to heal—both inside and out. The neighbors still spied on us through their miniblinds. And although I’d spotted Derek and his jerk-off buddies parked down the street, they never got any closer.
Except for Mom buying me a new cell phone to replace the one I’d lost at Chloe’s party, nothing really happened. And yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that would change. Those two days felt like the quiet before the storm.
I was edgy, waiting for the next crisis. Despite the fact that things looked quiet on the surface, there was an undeniable twist in my gut. I believed those feelings had a lot to do with White Bird. I quit daydreaming about him and our past together, mostly because I was afraid of triggering something I couldn’t stop.
But at night, he came to me in my dreams.
My nightmares got worse. It would only be a matter of time before I had to do something. The day I had touched White Bird at Red Cliffs had triggered something dark that I didn’t understand. I had no idea if it was inside me or if it came from him. And with each passing day that I ignored what was happening, things got worse.
I really had no choice.
“The yard looks beautiful, Bren. You’ve done a great job, honey.” Wearing a bandanna and apron, Mom took a break from her cleaning and brought me a cold Pepsi. She smiled as she looked over the backyard. “The place was really overgrown, but you’ve made a big difference.”
I was sweaty and had a layer of dirt up my arms, but it felt good to work in Grams’s garden.
“Yeah, but it could use color. Flowers would be nice.”
“Good idea. You feel like making a nursery run with me? We both could use a break.”
It surprised me that Mom wanted to come along to pick out flowers. I thought she’d give me the car keys and let me run the errand alone, but when that didn’t happen, I had to scramble for plan B.
“I don’t know much about flowers. The whole annual/perennial thing confuses me, but I’ll plant whatever you buy. How’s that?”
“Okay. I’ll just change.” She turned to head back into the house.
“Hey, Mom? Would you mind if I went to the library instead? I’d like to check my email. I’m sure Dana has sent me stuff. And maybe I can find some books to read.” I wiped sweat off my forehead. “I’ve got my bike. And the library isn’t far.”
Mom cocked her head with a questioning look on her face as she squinted into the late-afternoon sun, but what parent would turn down a kid for wanting to read? She shrugged her okay and I put away my garden tools and cleaned up, too.
I hadn’t lied about wanting to get to the library, but it had nothing to do with checking my email. Sorry, Dana.
Shawano Public Library
With my bike, it had been easy to ditch Derek in the street. He never saw me leave. I went around the block and checked. The only gratifying thing about me having to ditch him was that I knew he’d be in his car baking in the Oklahoma heat while I was at the library.
When I got to the library, I noticed it hadn’t changed much, except for a new coat of paint in the entry. The computers were in the same location and the help desk was just as I’d remembered it. Mom used to bring me when I was a kid. I loved the smell of books. And finding my own quiet corner to read was one of my favorite things to do.
Today, it wouldn’t be like that. I hadn’t come for fun.
Two years ago, the murder of Heather Madsen had been covered in the local papers for months. It had happened during the summer after our freshman year in high school. The violence had shocked the whole community. It was all anyone talked about. And since I had been part of the sheriff’s investigation, I’d missed the coverage and had been completely in the dark. At the time, that suited me fine. All I wanted to do was curl up and forget it ever happened.