Eliza's Shadow (5 page)

“Something about him has made me think about my
mother and things that happened to me before I came here. I know that doesn’t
make any sense.” I muttered.

Jane leaned back on her stool drinking her cocoa
in silence for a few minutes.

I let my eyes linger furtively on the contents of
my mug while I waited for her to respond.

"Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Eliza.”
She finally said.

“If you think of other things you want to ask me,
please know, I’ll tell you everything I can. I’m here for you.” She said gently
and patted my arm.

“Yeah, I know that. Thanks Jane.” I responded
gratefully, and met her supportive gaze with a smile.

“Would you permit me just one vital
question?" She asked evasively.

"Umm, sure.” I conceded.

"Sooo, this guy, what’s he like?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "There's not much to
tell. I just met him, well, barely met him." I said shyly.

"What's his name? He's handsome, I take
it?" Jane's grin turned wickedly girlish.

I frowned, realizing what she was thinking.

"His name is Ren Alden and he just moved
here. I think he’s good looking but there’s something about him that makes me
uncomfortable.” I snipped feeling a chill run up my arms.

"Handsome in a tall, dark way or what?"
Jane pressed. She obviously wasn’t going to drop the subject.

"Ok, fine. Yeah he’s tall and dark, kind of
lanky. His hair is all wavy and short and he’s kind of tan. His eyes are
intense but…intriguing. Everything about him seems intense but when he speaks,
he sounds completely relaxed. I can't believe I just said that! Jane, you're
killing me here." I puffed exasperated, my cheeks prickling.

"Eliza, take a breath. You've never talked
about a boy. You know it's normal to have feelings like this. Don't be so hard
on yourself. Besides, he's probably getting sweaty palms over the gorgeous
little Audrey Hepburn look alike with big green eyes he just met." She
said coyly.

"Jane!" I yelled.

"What? It's the truth, you're gorgeous, deal
with it." She snapped playfully.

Love was blind and Jane clearly loved me too much.
I realized that Jane was chalking up all my weird behavior to hormones. While
her assumption wasn’t accurate, I decided not to correct her.

"Ok, I think that’s enough for one night. I'm
going to take a bath." I said dismissively calling an end to the
conversation.

"Are you sure you don't need a cold shower
instead?" Jane giggled.

I rolled my eyes and headed for the bathroom.
Remembering one tiny detail as I strolled down the hallway, I called back to
her,

"Oh Jane, there is one more thing you could
help me with."

"Anything." She shouted.

"I didn't exactly tell anyone at school that
I was going home today. Can you cover for me?" I asked.

"Absolutely, I'll just tell the principal
that you and Ren Alden should be given detention since he made you sick."
She responded sarcastically, choking back her laughter.

"Last time I tell you anything!" I spat
childishly and slammed the bathroom door.

5

That night I found myself
in Moco and it was hot. The kind of hot that makes you feel like an ant under a
magnifying glass with air so humid you’d rather drink it than breathe. I was in
the city park standing by the fountain that was abloom with lush floating water
lilies. Blue iridescent dragonflies danced between the petals. Hazy afternoon
light snuck through the canopy of live oaks. A thick breeze stirred the Spanish
moss draping from the expansive tangle of branches above.

The inviting sound of the fountain drew me to the
shower of water spilling from the hand of a mermaid sculpture. I extended my
hand, searching for relief from the steamy heat. I was surprised. I’d expected
to see a younger self, since I hadn’t been to the park since I was a child. But
the hand in the water had my sixteen-year-old fingers complete with chipped
blue nail polish.

As the water flowed over my hand, I noticed it was
oddly stained, like iced tea. As I stared at the water, I had the creepy
sensation that I was being watched. I spun around to find a tall graceful woman
lounging at the opposite end of the fountain. At once I recognized her but in
my dream state could not recall where I’d seen her. Her long hair was a
brilliant shade of red and her skin was pale as a china teacup. Her eyes made
me cringe. I’d felt that amber gaze on me before and they made me squirm in my
own skin.

“Hello, Eliza. My, haven’t you grown.” She said
silkily.

Suddenly the air around me felt heavier. I
struggled to draw in a breath.

There was a splash in the fountain. When I turned,
I was face to face with a nearly identical woman emerging from the water. Her
long red hair hung in wet ropes around her face and she was smiling, far too
wide for my liking. I took a step back and bumped into something cold and wet.

“Why, Eliza, did she frighten you?” Said a voice
eerily similar to the first. A third red haired woman loomed over me.

Panic seized me as I gazed around at the
glittering amber eyes sucking at me like leeches. The women began to laugh, a
high screeching sound so loud it was like they were inside my head. They
surrounded me.

I searched for an opening to run but my feet were
rooted to the ground.

The woman in the water reached out menacingly, her
long white hands dripping. I winced, shrinking away from her and clenched my
eyes shut. With every fiber of my being I willed myself out of the dream.

Thunder cracked on my alarm clock.

I bolted awake my heart racing and sucked in a
deep breath to calm myself. My mind spun churning through the details of the
dream, trying desperately to make sense of it. Within seconds it came to me.

“Narissa.” My voice emerged a groggy whisper.

I had seen one of the women before. The night my
mother disappeared in the park. What was she doing in my dreams?

I leapt out of bed propelled by a swell of nervous
energy and headed for the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth, I stared at my
reflection.

The eyes staring back at me were a mix of
curiosity and fear. The musky sweet scent of peat hung in the air around me,
the smell of the swamp. I set my toothbrush down and traced the lines of my
face studying the girl in the mirror.

My head spun with thoughts of my mother, Cora, Ren
Alden’s face, his touch, and mysterious slivers of memories still hidden, like
secrets whispered too low for me to hear, whispers that seemed to grow louder
by the minute.

Beyond the bathroom door, I heard Jane rustling
around in the kitchen.

"Making anything special?" I shouted out
to her, knowing she had probably just become mobile.

"Coffee... How does coffee sound to you? It's
sounds pretty good to me right now." She yelled down the hallway.

I pinched my eyes shut and took a few deep
breaths, mentally preparing myself for the day ahead, then shuffled out of the
bathroom back into my bedroom to get dressed. By the time I reached the kitchen,
Jane had a pan of scrambled eggs going and bread in the toaster.

"How'd you sleep after the heavy conversation
last night?" She asked wryly.

"Ok, I guess.” I mumbled remembering how I’d
ended our conversation the night before.

“Hey, can you write that note for me? You know
about the whole leaving school thing?" I asked with an apologetic smile,
quickly changing the subject.

"Sure, babe." She said agreeably and
wandered over to search her desk drawer for appropriate supplies.

While she wrote, I took the liberty of dishing up
our plates and gulping down a cup of juice. After Jane handed me the note, she
settled into a chair and flipped through the paper. Rain softly pattered on the
wall of windows lining the living room. The predictability of our morning routine
was calming and I began to feel more confident that I would make it through the
day without another incident.

“Have you come up with a special for tonight?” I
asked.

Jane used to go to market at the crack of dawn for
Viva herself but eventually relinquished that duty to a trusted sous chef.

"Frank said the salmon was really good this
morning so I'm thinking about doing salmon with polenta. Not sure about sides
yet." She offered distractedly.

"Yum, that sounds great. I'll look forward to
dinner." I tried to sound enthusiastic. I slid off the barstool, stacked
my dishes in the washer, and wandered into the living room to retrieve my
school bag.

“Well, I better get going. Thanks for the note,
Jane. Love you much.” I said quickly as I snatched a black raincoat and
umbrella from the coat rack.

"Love you too. Call me if you need anything.
Promise? And… good luck with the boy." Jane winked mischievously at me.

"Promise." I grumbled and dashed out the
door.

The rain was persistent but not heavy enough to
ask Jane for a ride. It slowed my pace, providing time to think and breathe.
The pungent smell of rain soaked earth penetrated my lungs. The wind splattered
my face with cold droplets. A strong gust echoed in my ears,
join us
. My
shoulders shook at the sound, though I knew it had to be in my head. I
quickened my pace.

Reaching the high school entrance, I pushed the
big glass entry doors open, crossed the atrium and headed directly toward the
main office. The office was jammed with kids when I arrived. By the time I
reached Mrs. Brennan, the office administrator, the bell signaling the
commencement of homeroom had come and gone.

“Good morning, Mrs. Brennan. I got sick yesterday
and had to leave school but I didn’t have a chance to let anyone know. I brought
a note from my aunt.” I said quickly and shoved the note across her desk.

Mrs. Brennan was a gentle, plump, older lady,
probably too forgiving for her professional role. “Eliza, I hope you’re feeling
better, you certainly look well. How is your aunt Jane? I haven’t seen her in
ages. I hear the restaurant is still coming along nicely.” Mrs. Brennan said,
genuinely interested.

“Jane’s doing great. I’ll let her know you asked.
Do I need to find Mrs. Hildebrand to explain why I wasn’t in homeroom? I think
I need to go to first period now.” Not sure of the protocol, I wanted to make
sure I wasn’t late again.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll let Mrs.
Hildebrand know what happened. Off you go now.” With a wink, Mrs. Brennan
dismissed me.

The instant I arrived at school my stomach started
doing flip-flops as I worried about seeing Ren again. But as it turned out, my
morning classes flew by uneventfully. I had ignored several calls the night
before from both Bryn and Pete. When Bryn finally caught up with me in the hall
between classes, she grilled me mercilessly on my missing-in-action status. We
had been friends for so long, she could tell if I was hiding something from
her. When I gave her my bogus excuse of extreme nausea, she frowned
suspiciously but didn’t push the issue.

At lunch, Pete accepted my excuse without
question. Either he just assumed I would tell him the truth or he didn’t care
to know anything I didn’t want to tell him. Either way, as he launched into
planning the logistics for our road trip to Providence on Friday evening, I was
grateful the subject had effectively blown over.

The day had progressed so smoothly that I was
taken off-guard when I detected a prickly jolt like an electrical shock the
moment I crossed the threshold into history class. When the initial sting
subsided it left a pleasant vibration, which started in my toes and proceeded
to race through the rest of my body.

At once, I knew that Ren was present. My eyes half
scanned the room before settling on him seated in the far column of desks near
the windows. As if I’d called his name, he turned and stared right at me. He
raised an eyebrow playfully and smiled.

I smiled mechanically in response then cast my
gaze to the ground, in part out of shyness and because I needed to walk forward
and didn’t trust my feet to navigate the terrain. I chose a seat toward the
back of the room, several rows away from Ren, safely positioned so that he
would have to turn around if he wanted to look at me. I wanted an opportunity
to observe him without feeling watched myself.

Ren didn’t turn to find me at first but just
before Mr. Palmer began class he glanced over his shoulder. I took a deep
breath and met his gaze with a challenging glare. His dark eyes softened. The
confidence I’d seen before was gone. He looked nervous.

“Ok people, take your seats.” Mr. Palmer
announced.

Ren quickly turned his gaze to the front of the
class.

“Good afternoon, all. Today we will be resuming
our discussion about Africa.” Mr. Palmer accentuated the continent with gusto.

“And… we have a treat. Ren Alden, our new friend,
has brought in something of his from Africa to share.” Mr. Palmer said with a
nod in Ren’s direction.

Ren nodded back, his lips pressed tight into a shy
smile.

Mr. Palmer crossed the room and leaned behind his
desk. When he stood back up, he held a small burlap bag in his hands.

“This…” He said. Shoving both hands deep into the
bag, he gave the bag a little shake letting the fabric fall away from the
object in his hands. Mr. Palmer’s fingers were wrapped around a brown mottled
ball that looked like a dried mudpie with legs.

“Is an African Boli. It may not look like much but
it is an incredibly sacred object to the Bamana people, who live in Mali.” Mr.
Palmer said, turning the sculpture around in his hands for all of us to see.

“Boli’s are made of animal bones, vegetables,
honey, mud and even blood. The Bamana say that the boli helps them control the
natural life force. They use the boli for spiritual purposes and say it wards
off evil. Ren, where did you get this?” He asked curiously.