and fix the problem that he created. Now that I know, it makes me want to laugh. For the last few weeks I’ve seen him ripping into Ike almost every day about filling the hole in the basement and how it should have been done by now. It’s quite hilarious that all of a sudden he’s changed his mind, and now he looks like a fool.
You won’t be able to hide your secrets forever, Daddy dearest.
“I don’t understand, Mr. Duskin. You’ve been asking us to fill in the hole in the sub-basement for months. I’ve been making calls for weeks to get an order of fill-dirt in and I had to call in a lot of favors to have it delivered on a Sunday,” Ike explains.
“How many times do I have to tell you?!” my father bellows, his voice bouncing off of the stone walls in the small stairwell. “I’ve changed my mind. The hole stays.”
“But, sir—”
“GET OUT THIS INSTANT IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE WORKING HERE!” my father interrupts, his voice rising above the storm that rages outside. “Your stupidity and carelessness has already done enough damage. Figure out a way to fix this mess instead of making things worse.”
I hear a few mumbled curses and the shuffling of feet on the stairs, one set moving farther down them into the basement and the other coming up closer to me. I move as quickly and quietly as possible across the hall to the artifact museum, but I’m not fast enough.
“What are you running from, little girl?” Ike asks.
I slowly turn in the doorway of the museum and watch him close the basement door behind him, before walking down the hallway toward me. He’s a tall man in his mid-forties, well over six feet, and his arms are the size of tree stumps. He’s wearing dark blue coveralls and a t-shirt that probably used to be white at one time, but is so saturated with dirt and sweat that it looks grey. He’s been a groundskeeper here for over ten years and my father recently started letting him do a tour every once in a while when we’re busy. He thinks that makes him special. He thinks that makes him an authority on everything that happens here, but he doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know what I’m capable of. He’s been watching me for weeks, sticking his nose in my business, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, and I’ve had enough.
He continues moving down the hall until he’s toe-to-toe with me, and I stand my ground, refusing to move or let him intimidate me even when the smell of his sweat makes me gag. Ike leans down until his mouth is right next to my ear.
“You might be able to fool everyone else, girly, but I know what you did. I know what you are.”
I grit my teeth when he pulls back and laughs, his hot breath reeking of onions as it puffs across my face.
“What I am is someone you should stay far, far away from,” I tell him with a smile, cutting off his mocking laughter.
The confidence on his face vanishes, and I smile even wider when I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows nervously.
The pounding of footsteps up the basement stairs is the only thing that could make me move from where I’m standing. I might not fear the disgusting man standing in front of me, or the one stomping up the stairs, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. With a glance around Ike’s giant body, I turn and run around the stairs toward the front door.
I hear Ike laugh behind me as I quickly yank the heavy door open.
“Run away, little girl, run away! There’s nowhere you can hide now!” Ike shouts, his laughter back as I race down the steps and out into the pouring rain.
My eyes open slowly and I sit up, rubbing the sleep out of them. For the first time in the last few days, I actually remember my entire dream, instead of bits and pieces that don’t make any sense. I don’t wake up covered in sweat, fearing the things I dreamed that I couldn’t remember. I still don’t understand what my memories are trying to tell me, but at least I have another piece of the puzzle to add to my growing pile of mismatched pieces.
Flinging the blankets off of me, I pause as I stare down at the dark blue comforter my mother