The Spirit Keeper (7 page)

And then I heard them: footsteps.

I held my breath and closed my eyes to get a better sense of where the sound was coming from. The crunch of shoes against stone grew steadily louder as the intruder came near. My skin prickled, and I instinctively pressed my body closer to the ground, wishing that it could somehow absorb me like the puddle of spilled milk.

Without warning, the intruder yanked me up by a fistful of my shirt. I screamed once, and immediately a hand went over my face, blocking my nose and mouth so that I couldn’t breathe. It was a strong hand; a
man’s
hand.

I thrashed my arms and legs in wild, uncoordinated arcs in an attempt to land a few solid punches, but it did no good. I opened my mouth as wide as I could despite the hand in the way, and I bit down hard on a salty finger. I felt the nasty crunch of skin between my front teeth and tasted the warm tang of blood on my tongue. My attacker cried out and immediately released me, and I took off running down the path, heading straight for the gate.

“Sarah, stop! It’s me!”

I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d intended to do, but the sound of David’s raised voice brought me up short.

“Holy cripes, David!” I collapsed to the ground and lay flat on my back. I covered my face with my hands, panting hard to regain my breath and slow my tripping heart. I had a terrible sick feeling in my stomach, the cereal having congealed into what felt like a lead brick.

David came jogging down the path, cradling his hand against his chest, and stood looking down at me. Although I could see the outline of his body, I couldn’t quite make out the features of his face.

“Why were you hiding in the juniper bush?” he said, his voice accusing. Then he took a deep breath and sighed. “If you were trying to be inconspicuous, you failed miserably. And why did you bite me? You broke the skin.” He shook his hand to get the sting out. “You’re not rabid, are you?”

I didn’t laugh. I didn’t find anything about the moment even remotely funny. “I thought you were an intruder.”

He immediately stopped laughing. “An intruder? No. What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “It’s too hot, and I needed some air. I heard the gate, and . . . I don’t know. I just freaked.”

David knelt next to me and patted my leg. “I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Apology accepted,” I said with some reluctance. “Now it’s your turn. What are
you
doing out here?”

David didn’t answer right away. “I guess I couldn’t sleep, either. I, uh, thought I’d go for a run. Sometimes I do that, you know, in the middle of the night.”

I hadn’t forgotten about dinner or the fact that I was still majorly annoyed with him. “I did
not
know that,” I said. “So are you going to tell me what you and Meg were whispering about earlier, right before Priscilla and I walked in on you? Something was definitely up.”

My eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness to see David’s face had gone blank at my questioning, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Something was definitely bothering him.

David had been in his third year of college when his parents and my mother died. Though Meg was technically my legal guardian, he had agreed to move in with her and live rent-free in exchange for helping to take care of me. For the most part, they were both very easy-going people. It usually took something of Katie Cunningham-proportions to ruffle their feathers, at least where I was concerned, and I kept quiet about her as much as possible. I didn’t want them to worry.

I recalled my one and only physical confrontation with Katie, which happened during recess in the fifth grade. Katie knocked me to the ground and stuck wads of chewed gum in my hair as the Double Ds pinned me down. I suppose they had wanted to make me cry. But as upset as I was, I was determined not to give them the satisfaction.

I didn’t fight back. I didn’t even tell on them when they finally let me go. If Priscilla hadn’t been home sick that day, they probably wouldn’t have done it. But I couldn’t rely on Priscilla to fight my battles for me, and so I had learned to deal with Katie in my own way, even if that meant keeping my mouth shut and not pointing fingers.

When the teacher saw what a mess I was, she sent me straight to the principal’s office to tell my side of the story. Of course the principal called Meg, and together they forced the truth out of me. Meg was livid, and she called Katie’s parents that night to
discuss the incident
. But all that did was put me at the top of Katie’s hit list from that day forward. And even though Katie never laid another finger on me herself, it didn’t stop the abuse. She just got others to do it for her, whether it was tripping me in the hall, knocking the chair out from under me, or calling me names.

“Come on,” I prodded, when I realized David wasn’t going to open up. “What’s up with you and Meg?” I knew that whatever it was didn’t have anything to do with Katie Cunningham. Not this time.

David stood up. “Nothing. Besides, I’m taking care of it. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Laura Beth arrived to pick up Priscilla soon after breakfast.

I had barely slept a wink and was really dragging and irritated with everyone, but Meg wouldn’t take any pity on me or give me the day off.

“You know Saturdays are our busy days,” she said. “If you’re serious about saving up for a car, then that means being responsible even when you don’t feel like it. Now take the trash to the curb.”

As I was wheeling the garbage to the end of the driveway, longing for the days of Saturday-morning cartoons and eating Fruit Loops in front of the TV, I spotted Adrian’s dad across the street. He had a bunch of broken-down cardboard boxes tucked under both arms, and it looked like he was struggling to get them down to the curb. They kept slipping and falling to the ground, and he was getting all mad and doing a lot of muttering under his breath. I was going to turn around and leave without saying anything, but then he looked up and saw me.

“Need any help?” I called out, not knowing what else to say. He didn’t look any friendlier today than he had yesterday. And unlike Adrian, he had this whole sinister vibe-thing going on.

The corners of his mouth turned down, and he dropped the boxes at the curb and glowered at me with unflinching, black eyes. Then he said, “I don’t need your help,” with a nasty sneer, before turning around and walking away.

“Um. Okay,” I said once he disappeared inside. “Weird.”  

I stood there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what I’d done for him to act that way to me. But then I shoved the incident to the back of my mind when I heard Meg yelling for me that business was picking up and I’d better get to work. I groaned. Meg was in a rare mood this morning, seeming as sleep-deprived as I, and we’d been butting heads since breakfast.

Back at the greenhouse, David was ringing up a sale and making polite conversation with a balding man and his very pregnant wife. Their two young children were running from one end of the middle aisle to the other, being all loud and giggly and hyperactive. Normally I wouldn’t have minded—I was
the
neighborhood babysitter, known for my patience and willingness to actually play with kids instead of parking them in front of the TV. But the shrieking was hurting my ears and giving me a headache. I stared at them, hoping they’d get the hint and take it down a few notches, but they wouldn’t stop. Then I stared at their parents, mentally begging them to
please do something about those kids
, but they were totally oblivious.

David met my eyes while he was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Clueless about soil erosion, and nodded in the direction of the work table. I took that to mean that I was supposed to stop standing there with my arms crossed over my chest and actually
do
something. So I took the tray of seedlings, slid them to the other end of the table as far away from everyone as possible, and just sat there.

I yawned and stretched, in no rush to get going. Usually I could psych myself up for work, envisioning my savings account ballooning and the cute little red Volkswagen Golf I hoped to buy one of these years. Of course, thinking about Volkswagens got me to thinking about Adrian’s blue Beetle, which got me to thinking about Adrian himself. I really hoped he would stop by later like he said he would. Maybe I’d ask him what was wrong with his dad. Or maybe not.

When David finally wrapped things up with the customers, he came over to where I was and made some remark about how the seedlings wouldn’t repot themselves.

I groaned. “Can’t I work the register today, or maybe weed? I’d much rather weed.”

“Sorry, but Meg knows how grumpy you get when you’re tired. She’d rather you didn’t have much interaction with the customers today. Besides, I got up early this morning and did the weeding myself.”

“Well aren’t you the overachiever?” I said snippily, stifling another yawn.

Transplanting was one of my least favorite jobs. I didn’t have the green thumb that Meg did, and I usually managed to kill a few of the young plants in the process. That was just good money down the drain, as far as I was concerned, but Meg was bound and determined to teach me the true art of gardening, even if it killed her profits. I just wanted a nap.

“Careful of the roots,” David said from behind, as I coaxed the delicate plants from their pots. I could practically feel him breathing down my neck, and his hovering set me even more on edge. I ignored his comment.

“So, we never got to finish what we were talking about last night,” I said.  

“What do you mean?”

“You never told me what you and Meg were whispering about all secret-like. You know, right before dinner?”

“Oh,” he said. “I said it was nothing, so stop asking.”

I put the trowel down and swiveled on the stool to look at David, but he’d already turned away from me. He was going to make this as difficult as possible.

“I’m not a moron, David. I can tell when something’s going on, so you might as well come clean.”

David stayed silent, refusing to say a word. He kept his back to me, conveniently filling his bucket full of potting soil. But I could see the tension in his shoulders. It was obvious there was something going on that he didn’t want to talk about. However, I wasn’t about to give up.

“I would really appreciate someone cluing me in,” I said. “I’m not a baby, in case you haven’t noticed. I don’t need to be coddled, or for you and Meg to tiptoe around me. Seriously, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

I waited for what seemed like an eternity, but David still wouldn’t answer. “Is it the business?” I prodded. “Are we having money troubles?”

He only shrugged and continued to fill his bucket, even though I could see it was in danger of overflowing. He was going to crack soon. I could feel it. All I had to do was be patient and wait.

“We should never . . .” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Then he cleared his throat and said a little more loudly that he regretted they hadn’t said anything sooner, that they didn’t know what to say now, and that he wished my mother were still alive so she could talk to me.

“
She
should be the one having this conversation with you,” he finished.

And then I understood. All that talk about Adrian last night must’ve made my aunt and uncle nervous about the fact that I was growing up. I was so obviously not a little girl anymore and had the bra and tampons to prove it.

I cleared my throat, my face burning. I tried desperately to keep from smiling. “If this is about sex, save it.”

David wheeled around, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “What?”

“We covered all of that stuff in the fourth grade,” I said. “Everything else I just kind of figured out on my own.”

David’s face flushed a deep red, and then he burst out laughing. It was totally not the reaction I had been expecting. “It’s not about sex, Sarah. Trust me, I wish it were that simple. It’s a little more life-altering than that.”