Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me #1) - Helen Hardt Page 0,45
a volunteer leading a beautiful woman—for Braden’s mother must have been beautiful—with a gorgeous little boy tugging on her hand. Probably two little boys, as Braden has a brother. Did their mother wheel them home in a wagon? Did Braden like to squeeze a fresh loaf of bread?
“I think it’s wonderful that you volunteer here and also support the pantry financially.”
“It’s the least I can do. Never forget where you came from, Skye. It’s a part of you. Always.”
We head to the Mercedes where Christopher waits. He opens the door for me.
Braden slides in next to me in the back seat. “I showed you a part of my past today. Now I’d like to know something about you.”
Chapter Thirty
“What do you want to know?”
“Something that had an impact on you. Helped define who you are.”
“Okay. But I want to say something first.”
“Go ahead.”
The words take a moment to come. “I didn’t know you ever went hungry.”
“Did you give it a second thought?”
“No, I didn’t. I’ve never gone hungry, and I never realized how lucky I am. I’m going to try not to take things like that for granted anymore.”
He trails a finger over my cheek, warming me. “Good. You should never take anything for granted. It can all be gone in a minute.”
His words puzzle me. Does he really think his fortune can just vanish? “I’m sorry,” I say. “The thought of you going to bed hungry makes me so sad.”
“Don’t be sorry, and please don’t be sad. Everything in my past has contributed to what I’ve become. Just as it has for you. Maybe you don’t have one thing you can pinpoint. But tell me something about your past. Something that helped shape who you are today.”
Funny thing is, I can pinpoint the event that caused a shift in my personality. I’ve never told anyone other than Tessa. Mostly because it’s embarrassing. Everyone expects a control freak to have some huge story. Mine isn’t huge. It’s not even interesting.
“Do I really have to go into this?”
“No. I’ll never force you to tell me anything.”
“Thanks.”
Except now I want to. He shared something with me, and I want to share my experience with him. It was traumatic at the time. I can still feel my racing heartbeat.
Silence for a few minutes.
Then I speak.
“When I was seven, I was playing by myself in our cornfields.” I close my eyes for a moment. The sweet scent of the plants drifts into my mind. Green giants to a little girl, and though I loved them, they became monsters that day.
“By yourself?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m an only child, and none of my friends lived close by. I saw them only at school until I got older. Anyway, I got lost.”
“In the cornfield?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Don’t look so surprised. Our cornfields are huge. We have more than two hundred acres. I was only allowed to play at the very edge of the field where someone could keep an eye on me. Anyway, I got caught up chasing a praying mantis.”
“Somehow, I never took you for an entomophile.”
I’m impressed that he knows the word. Heck, I’m impressed that I know the word. “I was seven, Braden, with the attention span of a praying mantis myself. They’re green, as you know, and it was a challenge to see it as it hopped from one stalk to another. I followed it with my camera I’d gotten for my birthday. I wanted to take its picture.”
“You were having fun.”
“I was. There wasn’t much else to do.”
“Except outrun tornadoes.”
I give him a good-natured smack on his upper arm. “I won’t deny taking shelter from a few in my day, but you can’t outrun a tornado. You shouldn’t try.”
“Dorothy did.”
“You watch too much TV.”
“I don’t watch any TV.”
“That was a clear Wizard of Oz reference.”
“I read books, Skye.”
Of course he does. Why should that surprise me? He’s not college educated but he’s still brilliant. “Anyway, it hopped away from me again and again, and it was great fun to follow it, until I realized I had no idea where I was. I was shorter than the corn, and all around me was more corn. I freaked out. I can still feel my little heart pounding against my chest. It was like my whole body became my heartbeat. I started running in no particular direction and kept tripping over roots and stalks.”
Even telling the simple story, the feeling of sheer terror and panic washes over me.