The Prophecy (5 page)

Adrian
didn’t answer, and he and I sat in silence as Shyla continued.

“Gran
loves you just as much as she loves me, and you’re an idiot if you think
otherwise. Do you know how many times I overheard her on the phone pleading
with Dad to let you leave the reservation and come live with us? She saw how
unhinged he became after Mom died, and it killed her to leave you there with
him, but her hands were tied. I saw her crying for you when she thought no one
was looking, so don’t you dare say that you know how Jasmine feels. She’s
nothing but an ungrateful little brat. And so are you!”

Adrian
kept his head down as he ripped fistfuls of grass and cast them aside. Whether
he did it in anger or embarrassment, I didn’t know. A fat tear swelled and
spilled onto the back of his hand, and he quickly wiped it against his jeans. I
looked from him to Shyla, who sat with her back turned to him as she stared off
in the opposite direction.

They
were both too obstinate to break the silence. I sighed, knowing what I had to
do. I placed one hand on Adrian’s leg and the other on Shyla’s shoulder.
Closing my eyes, I focused on filling them with positive energy from my own
Spirit. Feelings of understanding and compassion swelled like an ocean’s wave from
my heart, cascading over them in a storm of powerful love. Adrian, and then
Shyla, shuddered and relaxed under my touch.

“I hate
it when you two fight,” I mumbled, returning my hands to my lap.   

Shyla
looked at her brother and nudged him in the side with her elbow. “We can’t help
it we’re stubborn. It runs in the family.”

Adrian’s
face blushed a deep crimson, but he gave Shyla a half grin. Then he said to me,
“Jasmine and Caleb’s dad walked out on them when they were younger. Did you
know?”

“I
didn’t know. That’s awful.” Despite what I felt for Jasmine, I knew the sting
of a broken family. And even if you still had lots of people who loved you—or
maybe only a few—they could never take the place of the ones who were gone.

“Nathan
was his name. He and Charley were both way young when Caleb was born,” Adrian
said. “Jasmine’s never gotten over the fact that he took off. She pretty much
hates Caleb.”

I
stared at him in confusion. “Why does she hate Caleb?”

Adrian
stood and brushed the excess dirt and grass from the seat of his pants. Then he
held out his hand for me.

“She
thinks it’s his fault their dad left.”

Sleep
didn’t come easy. The cot was too firm and Adrian snored. I spent half the
night tossing and turning, holding the pillow over my head to drown out the sound.

Sitting
up, I looked around the cramped room. In the dim light that squeezed through
the tiny windows, the others appeared as little more than dark lumps. Sighing,
I pushed the covers off and swung my legs over the edge of the cot. I needed
air.

The
main room was so dark I could barely see my hand in front of my face, and I had
to stop to let my eyes adjust to the lack of light. Using the wall as a guide, I
skirted the perimeter of the room and breathed a sigh of relief when my
fingertips brushed the cool metal of the door handle. Releasing the deadbolt, I
jumped as the echo reverberated through the cavernous space.

The
outside air nipped the bare skin of my arms and legs, and I shivered as a gust
of wind lifted my hair off my shoulders. Fall would find this place even before
it settled in back home. Tonight, the air felt heavy as a damp blanket and
smelled of impending rain.

I contemplated
making my way down to the lake, but it was too dark to see much of anything at
all. I’d probably just twist an ankle anyway. Instead, I sat down with my back
against the cool brick wall, drawing my knees to my chest and pulling my Mickey
Mouse tee over my legs.

The
unexpected cry of a loon startled me, but then I remembered something my mother
had told me when I was just a little girl. She believed that when people died, their
spirits returned in the body of another living creature. I had been fascinated
at the idea.

“What
will you come back as?” I had asked.

She had
thought for a moment before answering. “A loon.”

Seeing
that I wasn’t familiar with that word she added, “Loons are beautiful birds
that live on the lake. They’re very good divers, you know; very skilled. But
the really cool thing is that loons have special calls to help them find their
families so that they never get lost.”

A loon
didn’t seem like a very special animal to me and I laughed. “Wouldn’t you
rather be a dolphin or a horse?”

She had
hugged me tight then and kissed the top of my head. “But if I were a loon, I
would always be able to find you.”

From
somewhere further down the lake, another loon answered the first. There was
something beautiful, yet very sad, in the way the two birds used their ghostly
calls to communicate with each other, as if they were trying to reach each
other from the impossible distance of two separate worlds. I rested my head
against my knees and closed my eyes, listening to their lonely cries and for
the first time realizing what my mother had been talking about. But she wasn’t
a loon, and neither was I. I could scream and yell out for my mother as loud as
I could, but she would never hear me.

And
then I was leaning against Imogene’s warm body, a blanket draped over me,
without being aware of Imogene having sat down beside me in the first place. I
realized then that I must have fallen asleep. The sky was thick with clouds, with
the exception of the occasional flash of lightning. Thunder rumbled in the near
distance. The storm was closing in.

“Adrian
snores,” I said with a yawn.

My head
bobbed as Imogene’s body shook with laughter. “I know. Why do you think I came
out here? I love my grandson, but I haven’t slept a wink since he moved in with
us. The sooner he goes off to college, the sooner I’ll get rid of these bags
under my eyes.”

I
didn’t want to think about Adrian going off to college. I was deluding myself by
assuming we’d end up at the same school. I’d probably stay close to home
because that’s all I’d ever known and, quite frankly, the thought of leaving
terrified me. But I couldn’t expect Adrian to stay here, too. What would happen
to us if he left? Could we realistically last four years with only the
occasional long weekend or holiday visit? I refused to be one of those
love-sick girls who can’t survive without her boyfriend, but the thought of
going long stretches at a time made my heart ache. I would never admit it to
Adrian, though. I had to have faith enough for the both of us.

“What’s
wrong?” Imogene’s grip around my shoulder tightened. “There’s no use in trying
to hide it from me.”

I
sighed. “I guess I’m just homesick.” I missed my room and bed. I missed
Priscilla. And, more than anything, I missed my mom.

“I
can’t imagine this place feels like home to you, does it?”

I shook
my head. “No. Does it feel like home to you?”

Imogene
fell quiet. I didn’t look at her face to gauge her expression, if only because
I was afraid of what I might see in her eyes. A loon cried out again in the
distance, almost wolf-like, and the sound of it caused the tears to finally
spill over.

I felt
like one of those loons floating on the water’s dark surface, in search of
another creature exactly like it. But unlike that loon, who would eventually
find its mate, I knew I would never find another person completely like me. As
much as my family loved me and accepted me, I was still different. And I would
never really belong to the tribe.

“No,”
Imogene finally said. “I guess I don’t consider this place my home, either. I
haven’t for a very long time.”

I
swallowed hard. “Can I ask you something?”

Imogene
smoothed my hair. “Always.”

“If Charley
and my mom used to be best friends, why does it seem like she hates her?”

Imogene
took a deep breath. “Charley and your mom were smart girls,” she said, “but
they had a streak of mischief in them. Trouble just had a way of finding them
whenever they got together.”

“What
sort of trouble?”

“Oh,
mostly silly little things. And then one day, they stopped speaking to each
other. They wouldn’t even look at one another.”

“Why?”

Imogene’s
shoulders rose and fell. “Well, I don’t know exactly. One day they were
friends, and the next day they weren’t.”

“Was it
because of me?”

 “What?”
she said, genuinely surprised. “No, honey. You weren’t even a blip on the radar
yet.”

“But if
I hadn’t—”

 “Listen.”
Her tone was firm, but kind. “Don’t you for one minute think that your mom ever
regretted having you,” Imogene said, almost as if she had read my mind. “Or
that her friendship with Charley was somehow more important than having you as
a daughter. Bigger and better sometimes comes in very small packages.” She
chuckled and pinched my arm.

“Do you
think Charley blames my mom for, you know, tearing apart the tribe?”

Imogene
breathed out through her nose. “Maybe. I don’t know. But what’s the point of
blaming people for things that happened in the past, especially when those
people are no longer here to speak for themselves?”

“Adrian
said Caleb and Jasmine’s dad left when they were young.”

Imogene
took another deep breath, as though dredging up the past was laborious work.

“He
did. His name was Nathan Moon. They hadn’t been together very long when Charley
found out she was pregnant with Caleb. It came as a real surprise to everyone. And
I’ll give Nathan credit for sticking around as long as he did. Not many boys
fresh out of high school would marry a girl he barely knows and take on two
jobs just to support her and a new baby. But as the years passed, you could
tell how much he’d grown to really love them. Doing the right thing wasn’t just
an obligation.”

Something
didn’t add up, though. “If he loved them so much, what happened to change that?
Why did he leave?”

I felt,
rather than saw, Imogene shake her head. “I have no idea. Are you going to be
the one to ask Charley why her husband left her alone with two young children?”

I
laughed. “I guess not.”

We
settled into silence again. But after a few moments I whispered, “Tell me about
the night your daughter died.”

Imogene
stiffened. “You’ve already heard this story, Sarah.”

I
pulled the blanket tighter around me. “But not from you.”

Imogene
didn’t speak for a while, but when she did, her voice was low and quiet.

“Aida
was attacked by a . . . a wolf, as you know. I saw it happen, but there was
nothing I could do to save her. I held her in my arms at the end—Victor and I both
did. She cried out for Adrian and Shyla, begging to see them one last time. She
breathed her last breath into Shyla’s small body and passed on the gift of
Spirit Keeper. And then she was gone. Just like that. As quick as blowing out a
candle flame.”

I
couldn’t imagine the horror of watching someone die in such a painful and
unspeakable way. But then I remembered I almost had when Victor stabbed Adrian,
his own son. Victor had meant to kill me, of course, the so-called product of a
great betrayal to the tribe. I’d escaped, but only just barely. And through
some mystery of magic and love, I’d managed to save Adrian’s life, making him
whole once again.

I
curled my hand around Imogene’s. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You should
never apologize for your questions.”

“I
know, but I feel like I have to keep apologizing for so many things. My father
killed your daughter. I keep thinking it was just an accident, that she just
got in the way, you know, and that he didn’t really mean to hurt her. And I
can’t understand how you and Adrian and Shyla don’t hate me like Victor did. Or
does . . .”

“What
good is hate, huh? What has hating someone ever accomplished? And I could never
hate you. I love you as though you were my own granddaughter.”

I
thought of Jasmine then. How could I hate her when I didn’t even really know
her? And I certainly didn’t know all the facts about her and Adrian, or if
they’d even been an item at all. All I had to go on were my own jealous suspicions,
and that wasn’t fair to anyone.

“How
did Victor used to be?” I said, trying to get my mind off Jasmine.

Imogene
drew a deep breath and laughed. “You’re just full of all the difficult
questions tonight, aren’t you? Well, Aida and the children were his life, once
upon a time. He always had a smile on his face, and it was because of them.
They were the center of his universe. He almost died when Aida did, but he
pressed on for the kids. At least for a little while. But then something
changed him.”

“What
was it?”

I felt
Imogene shake her head again. “I don’t really know.”

“And
now?”

“I feel
sorry for him,” Imogene said. “He’s the father of my grandchildren. I know they
say that forgiveness is the key to happiness, but I can’t forgive him for doing
what he did. Victor let his anger and rage consume him, and it nearly got the
two of you killed. And let’s not forget about your grandparents and mother.
There can be no forgiveness for their deaths.”