Authors: Jackie Zack
“You shouldn’t put much pressure—what do you want? I’ll get it for you.” He set his dinner on a side table.
She shook her head. “Have to go to the powder-room.”
He helped her up and walked with her down a dark hall, supporting her. She thanked him and disappeared into the bathroom.
Stepping back to the living area, he grabbed the container of food and ate his dinner at a quick pace while looking out on the backyard. The stone house piqued his curiosity. Although old, it looked kept up with glass windows and even curtains. The flower garden around it gave the scene a fairy tale appearance. A gazing ball perched on a wrought iron post of vines and leaves. He chugged down the water and ate another teacake, feeling grateful.
Oh, good grief!
The book. What must he do? It wouldn’t be right to take it. He grabbed his backpack which he’d deposited beside the candy cane chair. He unzipped it and pulled out a pen. He could hastily mark out some of the sections that she’d get to first and worry about the rest later.
The sound of running water through pipes told him she’d be coming out the door any minute.
Kory focused on the book, wishing to extinguish the foul matter with a super power of laser eyes. He took a step toward the table. Muffled sounds from the hallway door met his ears. Stifling a groan, he tossed the pen at his backpack and headed toward the hall to help Dafina return to her chair. Griff joined Kory as he passed the kitchen entrance.
The bathroom door opened and Dafina peered out. “Thank you for helping me.”
“It’s not a problem.”
She directed her attention to Griff. “I don’t feel a bit good, poppet.”
The dog made a move to jump up on her leg.
“No, no, no!” She moved her hurt ankle behind her.
Griff whined and disappeared into a side room.
“It’s okay,” she called after him. “Poor thing. I don’t know who his first owner was…but…”
Kory knew what she meant. Griff’s first owner had been mean to him. “What kind of dog is he? I’ve never seen one like him.”
“Really, now? He’s a Welsh corgi. Have you noticed that he doesn’t bark? And corgis are supposed to bark.”
“Oh, I—”
A loud rap sounded at the door, sending an adrenalin rush through Kory. Had the two men returned?
“Who could that be?” Irritation sounded in Dafina’s voice. She glanced in his direction and must’ve read his mind. An expression of understanding passed over her face. Her lips pressed together as if summoning her inner fortitude. Maybe even a touch of anger as she clenched her jaw. “Listen, I’ll check who it is. I’ll be able to see them, but I don’t think they will be able to see me. If it’s two men—”
“If it’s them, don’t answer the door,” he whispered in haste. He hated how cowardly his words sounded, but he couldn’t risk Dafina getting caught in whatever trouble followed him.
“Right.” Her eyes narrowed. She peeked around the corner. Her shoulders relaxed and she motioned for him to help her to the door. “You’re in luck, Kory Slate. It’s Hoover.”
He took in a breath, inadvertently expanding his chest. The man’s name brought a primal feeling of protecting one’s own upon him. As he supported her to the door, he hoped to get a glimpse of the man through the door window, but no luck.
Dafina opened the door, and he stepped beside her still holding her hand. His forearm braced hers to help alleviate pressure on her right leg.
Hoover must’ve knocked on the door then stepped off the porch. He stood on the path, holding a leash attached to a harness on the goat. Low rays of evening sunlight streamed across Hoover’s muscular figure. A breeze wafted his shoulder length, sun-bleached hair away from his handsome, chiseled face. Kory hated to admit that the man’s physic was near perfect with a wide, muscled chest. His white shirt strained across his tan body. Hoover could be a model on the cover of bodice-ripper books, either that, or a spokesman for a butter commercial.
Kory choked on his own spit and clamped a hand to his mouth as he coughed. Dafina rejected
his
attention?
Holey Moley.
“Dafina, I’m sorry about Biggins getting loose—again.” Hoover’s high nasal voice sent Kory into another fit of coughing.
You’ve got to be kidding.
“Do I owe you money for anything he’s eaten?” The Greek god with a woman’s voice turned his attention to Kory and then back to Dafina. “Who’s that guy?”
“I—I uh—” Kory cleared his throat.
“No need to explain, darling,” Dafina whispered in Kory’s direction, loud enough for Hoover to hear. She lifted her voice. “Don’t worry about it for now.”
“Is
he
your husband? Finally get done reading the paper?”
“Well, bye.” She waved and moved to close the door.
“Cheerio.” Hoover waved and smiled.
Whoa.
He was in need of a good session of teeth whitening.
As Kory helped her to the living room she exclaimed, “Well, I guess you can see why Hoover isn’t my type.”
“Oh—yeah.” He nodded in earnest. But in every truthfulness, all the guy needed was a good woman who would order him to the dentist, buy the right toothpaste, and send him to a speech therapist.
“I don’t go for those body-builder types.” Dafina shrugged.
****
Kory unlocked the door to the stone house on Dafina’s property, thankful that spending the night in the old dwelling was an option. She’d tried to sway him into using her guestroom with concerns of comfort. But once she’d mentioned the place that she hoped to use as a bread and breakfast, it cinched the deal. To give her satisfaction, he flipped a coin to make the choice. Heads it was.
As he opened the creaking door, he half expected a wild animal to jump at him. Nothing, not even a moth. The heavily plastered walls were white with dark support beams. A stone hearth owned its spot as the main focal point, majestic in proportions taking up most of wall to the left. A colorful knobby rug sat on the wooden floor. The building housed only one room except for the bathroom that hid behind a dwarfed door off to the right. He’d have to be careful or he’d clunk his head on the way in and out.
She’d warned him it would be a lot like camping with no bed or electricity. If he became cold, he’d have to start a fire in the fireplace. Considering the pillow and all the blankets she’d made him take, he’d be fine. It was only midsummer after all.
He plunked the blankets down on the green, blue, and red spotted rug, and sat at the old metal kitchen table on a matching chair—an easy choice—the only furniture in the place. He opened his backpack and pulled out the horrible book he’d written. Might be easy enough to tear out the most offending pages. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice. Her bookmark designed with a corgi puppy caught his heart.
Sweet, innocent.
Thankfully, she’d not had any desire to read and only wanted help walking to her bedroom. He’d wished her goodnight and lifted the book on the way out. Feeling a tad guilty, he assured himself there was no other way.
Was
it possible he worried too much? Upon reaching certain sections, wouldn’t she toss the book aside and forget it? No…she’d read it. Then judge him with great disappointment. He couldn’t take out everything, just the very worst.
Sunlight waned from the back windows. He’d have to work by candle light if he couldn’t get the task completed quick enough. He glanced at the fireplace mantle where several pillar candles stood next to a box of matches. So he wouldn’t have to do it later, he lit one and set it on the table.
The first offending scene left him cold and sweating. As he read, his eyes popped. He didn’t write it like that. The angst of it all wrenched his gut. Offending language spewed where he’d had nothing of the sort. Then he remembered Ed say that there were a few final
minor
changes, and did he want to peruse them? Kory had waved it away without a care. Another tormenting memory to add to his list of wrongdoings.
He scored the page close to the binding with a pocket knife and carefully pulled one page out. Inspecting the work, he heaved a sigh of relief that a sentence ended on the page before, and a new one started on the page after. It actually made sense. If she read quickly without looking at the page numbers, she’d never know.
The other page he removed toward the end of the book didn’t leave so happy a result. Dialog ended abruptly with no punctuation. She might let it pass as a printing error. He prayed she wouldn’t read that far.
What if Ed had okayed more things to other parts of the book? His body screamed for sleep, but he’d have to do a quick scan.
Eyelids drooping one-fourth of the way in, he blew out the flickering flame, sending the room into a bluish cast from the moonlight. He glanced out the window to see the yard doused in white light. The silver gazing ball perched on its stand cast a shadow almost the same as it would appear in daylight. The garden ornament shined and sparkled like a crystal ball. One lone window was illuminated in Dafina’s home. Just as he realized it was her bedroom, the light winked off.
He didn’t need a crystal ball to tell him that nothing could ever happen between him and the platinum princess. But oh, she intrigued him. Probably the same way a mouse found itself mesmerized with the sleek, lithe beauty of a cat. Beautiful fur, exotic eyes, perfect white teeth—then darkness.
He stretched out on the rug, laid his head on the pillow, and pulled over a blanket. He’d have to get up early and check the rest of the book in the morning. Why had he trusted Ed? Shock value indeed. Was it really what the reader wanted? More importantly, he needed to get the book back to its proper resting place before Dafina found it missing.
Too late to protect other readers, but if he could shelter this one and spare her the grief.
He felt himself drifting off to sleep. Later, he turned over to relieve a pain throbbing through his leg and woke to hear a woman’s voice mumbling in upset. He numbly wondered if it was Hoover.
****
Dafina found herself in her mother’s cheap apartment. She supposed she should think of the home as cozy and a place Mum was content with, but a room in a stranger’s house didn’t bode well. Shadows hung low and moved when they shouldn’t, much like the ones in Kory’s book. Odd that. She begged Mum to come with her, but her mother curled up in chair and couldn’t hear or see her. Helplessness and sorrow enveloped her as she tried to get Mum’s attention.
Aunt Nesta suddenly appeared at the front door and ushered herself in. Even though she was Mum’s sister she showed no concern for Mum’s dire trouble with the weird, skittering shadows. Nesta grabbed Dafina’s hand and squeezed in a tight grip, making her cry.
“We need the house and the stone cottage returned to us. You can’t have them anymore. My daughter needs them; she must have them.” Nesta’s eyes took on an evil glint.
“They’re mine,” Dafina protested, her heart pounding. “You cheated Mum out of them.”
Nesta breathed in a hoarse exaggerated pattern, taking on a surreal manner. Her cheeks flared and her body puffed out big and round. She turned quickly throwing Dafina into the air. If only her aunt would let go of her hand. Dafina’s body vibrated with nervous terror and a scream trilled through her throat. It was like her aunt no longer gripped her hand—but some sort of demon.
“Dafina?” A man’s voice.
Her eyes fluttered open—only a dream! Her breath caught at the unknown voice, but it was pleasant, familiar. She relaxed, glanced around, and listened. No one was in the room with her.
“Dafina? Are you okay?” Kory’s voice came from the window screen.
“Why—what?”
“You called out like you were upset or hurt.”
“A bad dream, that’s all it was. I’m sorry to wake you.” She rolled her eyes upward as she held her forehead. How could she ever have guests if she disturbed them by talking in her sleep? “What a mucky mess. Did I scream out loud?”
“No, just talking. I couldn’t make out the words. You—you screamed in your dream?” A twig snapped as he must have stepped on a dried branch. “You really should put off reading my story—don’t read it.” His voice was soft, caring.
“I didn’t have a nightmare because of your book, silly.”
Uh-oh, maybe part of it.
“Oh—I—you’re okay then—you’re sure.”
“Yes.”
“Well. Give a yell if you need anything.”
“I will. Or I won’t.”
Oh, bother. Give him a dumb answer, Dafina.
The morning, partly cloudy, appeared a good day to travel. Kory slipped his backpack over his shoulders and rode his bike toward the dirt path eager to get started on his journey.
And even more than that, problems had seemed to work themselves out. Dafina’s ankle, although terribly bruised, had improved enough for her to put enough pressure on her foot to walk. Also he’d placed
The Unseen
back on the side table without her notice and paid her for the use of the bed and breakfast cottage. Yes! Everything was right with the world.
Well, almost. He didn’t have time to speed read the rest of the book. And he couldn’t bear to bring up the subject of the book again to explain that he’d okayed changes without reading them, so every sort of profanity could be included.
Jerk!
But both he and Ed were.
Double jerk!
As the tires hit the uneven, malleable path his mind switched gears to the past. He was once again twelve years old, mountain bike racing his friend Luke on a course they’d laid out. Each one determined to beat the other to the finish line. If only he could go back in time and enjoy one more race. Slap his friend on the back one more time.
Dafina’s expression of dread took over his thoughts, bringing on a sarcastic chuckle. “Are you sure you can handle the bike on a mountain path?” she’d asked, when he stepped out the front door. Oh brother, it was almost as if she thought him to be an old geezer, navigating the course on a deathbed with wheels. He’d assured her that, yes, he was quite capable.
Still, her worries came out of good intentions. She didn’t know how he and his friends practically lived on bikes when they were growing up. How they’d raced and competed. Certainly he was out of practice and not in racing form anymore, but his experience had to count for something.
He breathed in the lush pine scent mixed with other earthy fragrances. To his right, the trees grew on a gradual incline. Gray boulders peppered the forest floor like someone had dropped them at the top of the mountain to see where they would topple and come to rest.
Rounding a turn, the view opened up to rolling hills and tree covered mountains in the distance. The path clung to the edge of the mountain, a sheer drop of about forty feet to his left. Now he understood Dafina’s concern, but it was nothing to worry about. He’d been in what were really precarious situations. But at the time, he’d been too young to comprehend.
He rode along enjoying the fresh air and slight change in scenery as he progressed, slipping into the blank spot in his mind where he thought of absolutely nothing. Lungs took in air and pushed it out, blood pumped, legs strained, arms tensed.
After about an hour of travel had been attained, he stopped for a drink. The cool water refreshed his dry mouth. He wiped a drip off his chin with the back of his hand meeting stubble. For this trip, he was definitely going to give up shaving.
He set off again on the dirt and rock trail. A grassy field on either side shone in the sunlight. Several straggly trees stood watch as sentinels. When he moved to switch gears, his feet nearly flew off the pedals. A quick inspection told him what he already knew. The chain had slipped off. Stepping forward to a shaded area, he worked with the chain until it begrudgingly slipped back into the spokes. But would it stay?
****
Dafina searched her bedroom for Kory’s book as she tried to get ready for work. Earlier, she’d wanted to read it before he arrived for breakfast in order to ask a few intelligent questions about the characters. She thought for sure she’d left it on the table by her chair in the lounge, but it was no-where in sight. Maybe she’d inadvertently brought it to her bedroom yesterday. Now she wanted to take it with her to work to read on her lunch break.
“Where is the rascal?” she asked Griff, and put on a royal blue sweater over her black blouse with matching pants. “What? No answer?”
He angled his head and then raced to the front door.
That was odd.
She carefully put on her blue flats and willed her ankle to be only a minor annoyance.
“Kory’s gone. Don’t bother.” She met up with Griff in the hallway. The dog didn’t know what she meant, but then again she didn’t know what Griff meant either. For certain, she’d never see the man again. She grabbed her purse and lunch bag. “Let’s go.”
As she drove to work, her mind wouldn’t think about anything else other than Kory. The darrens could come back and get him. They might beat him up, or worse, throw him over a cliff. And even if they didn’t kill him, he could slip off the path to his death, or get lost in the mountains—becoming food for some wild animal. Big city guys didn’t know anything about wild terrain.
He’d said that he wanted to get pictures for his friend. Nice intention it was, if he ever made it back alive. She’d opened her big mouth and told him about the castle ruins. From the light that shone in his eyes, he was sure to go. She gritted her teeth. Seeing the castle in the distance would make it easy to find, but heading back to the main trail, not the same story. Surely, he’d find his way. Wouldn’t he?
Why did Kory have to take off on a bike alone? It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d had a group with him or at least one other person. Worries over his safety agitated her more than she thought possible. She didn’t even fret over her husband that much, which in retrospect was perfectly fine.
Pulling up to her parking spot, she realized all she had to do was pray for Kory and quit worrying. God knew this day would come like all the others. She prayed that God would protect him with his holy angels, that they would surround him and keep him safe.
She took in a breath and her thoughts cleared. Today wouldn’t be so bad after all. She’d pick up another copy of
The Unseen
at work. At least she would hear his voice in her mind as she read. Comforting, that. Plus she had Griff with her. He always cheered her.
She opened the back door to the shop.
Oh, my word.
How would she know if Kory ever made it to his destination for the night?
****
Kory sped along at a good even pace, keeping a watchful eye for a glimpse of a castle in the distance ahead and two shadowy characters behind. Nothing yet on either account. Trees and thick growth on either side made it difficult to see much of anything. Clouds accumulated overhead and a breeze rushed through the upper branches.
A bit of loneliness took hold on the outer edges of his thoughts.
Breaks in the forest came and went, revealing hazy mountains and more stormy sky. Bad feelings crept in and multiplied. He should’ve known he couldn’t run away from his troubles, but he’d hoped the time away would bring clearer focus. But so far all he’d accomplished was thinking about nothing.
He wanted a life. Sure, writing was his life’s ambition and dream, but he couldn’t obsess over it the way he had the last two years. He couldn’t put real relationships on hold to work on fictional ones. No more zoning out when someone tried to communicate. Giving of himself, giving his all for someone…love. A wife and children…that’s what was missing.
And he needed something to soothe his troubled soul. Some kind of balm to cover all the pain he’d caused. All the pain he carried. The change in scenery was amazing, but…
Whoa.
Part of a stone wall on a green hillside appeared up ahead. Dafina’s face came to mind as she said in her Welsh accent, “…approximately a kilometer away from the trail.” As he traveled, the narrow dirt road curved to his left. The castle remains drifted to the right. Hopefully there would be a turn leading to it sooner or later. He almost seemed to be heading away from the ancient site.
Where was Bobi and his map drawing capabilities when he needed him? Kory smiled. He’d probably end up in Timbuktu. But really, he should thank the man. How else would he have gotten to spend a little time with Dafina?
If only she worked in a bookstore in New York City.
If only
.
The two words bothered him.
Dear God, please help me. I need some direction here.
Ironically a few minutes later, he came to a juncture in the path. Including the stretch he was on, three directions splayed from one point, equidistant from each other. The path angling to the right must take him where he wanted.
He set off down the trail. As it meandered downhill, it spiked in hairpin turns, then flowed up and down over hilly terrain like an earthen roller coaster. He rode through a patch of dead trees. Strange, since everything else was green. A lone raven perched on a limb and appeared to be watching him as he traveled by.
A clunk sounded and friction jolted his feet, then he pedaled free air. Not the chain again.
He fixed the bike once more, keeping an eye on the black bird.
As far as bad omens went, that had to be the worst. He pushed the sight from his mind and looked ahead to the castle…which wasn’t there.
Keep going, Kory.
The missing castle only a matter of perspective.
He pushed forward, the ground mucky in lower spots.
Mucky
, one of Dafina’s words. The ancient stone structure appeared as he rounded a bend. The ruins loomed ahead on a grassy knoll. As he neared, the sun broke through clouds, lighting up his surroundings. The front wall of the castle stood about thirty or forty feet tall, three arched windows speared the center top. The structure lit up from the sun with dark clouds behind. Perfect. He parked his bike, whipped out his phone, and took a picture.
That’s for you, Luke.
Stone steps on the grassy hillside led to the shell of what was left of the castle. As his tired legs carried him up the steps, wind whistled a mournful tune. He’d been so intent on reaching his destination that he hadn’t taken the time to allow his sense of unease to resurface. Being the only one on the path for miles, well, kilometers, could be cause enough for a Twilight Zone incident.
He stepped around the ancient ruin. The two outer walls that attached to the front main part of the structure tapered downward as they angled away in an uneven edge. The arched windows were even more impressive as they looked out over the scene. Gray rock surrounded the sky that peeped through in three spears. Clouds rushed by revealing blue sky then changed to clouds again. He took another picture and hoisted himself up to sit on the waist-high, rock wall.
Faithful.
The word hit him between the eyes as he reviewed the three pictures for Luke. Kory would make sure that he’d get them. Why did he and Luke have to switch to dirt bikes as they got older? He guessed it was a natural progression for them. The light weight motorcycles gave them the thrill of speeding haphazardly through the winding course. But even now, years later, the thought of the accident rolled his stomach.
He pulled a water bottle from his backpack and stowed away the phone. That was life. How could a person escape without tragedy or some hard road to travel? There wasn’t a perfect life. One could only do one’s best and pray. A lot.
But how to get a handle on changing his life for the better?
Even though he took this brief respite with writing, he had to write again. There wasn’t any way around it. His wounded spirit couldn’t let another book like
The Unseen
make it to the shelves. He needed to write with a vein of Christian hope. Christian love.
A vast majority of his readers would drop him. Christian publishers wouldn’t accept him for his edgy writing—and secular publishers had no room for what they’d term religious writing. He could see it all too well—his new books slipping through the cracks.
He sipped cool water and prayed. He wanted his life to count for something. Focusing on the light coming through the ancient windows, he relaxed his muscles.
Minutes ticked by. Wind rushed around the structure. Long grass in the nearby field rolled like waves from the gusts. A rustling, clinking noise caught his attention. Shadows slunk on the ground before two men appeared from around the castle. Sinking dread like a cold ice numbed his strength. Their faces covered with ski masks meant deep trouble. Muddy brown and tan hoodies—he never wanted to see those colors again. Green shoe laces still a tattered mess on the shoes of the taller man. The shorter one held an object shaped like a gun in the pocket of his jacket.
Could Kory make a break for it dodging around the castle wall? If he could get to his bike, a moving target was much harder to hit. Adrenalin pumped. He swung his legs to the other side of the wall, grabbing his backpack as he dropped then ran like a mad man.
****
Dafina couldn’t wait for her lunch break to sit in the courtyard out back and read. She gave Gweneth a questioning glance—her boss nodded. Dafina smiled as she picked up a new copy of
The Unseen
and
rattled out the door with her coffee and bag of crackers. Griff followed her then made a quick dash to check out the yard. She settled on a bench partially in the sun and cracked open the book. She found her place, gladdened to hear Kory’s voice again.