Clan of Redemption (8 page)

Dad didn’t say anything to
me while we drove home, and I was still not sure what was going on.
We pulled up at home, and that’s when I finally asked
again.

“Daddy, where’s Mom? Why
are we home?” I asked as I got out of the car.

“Let’s go inside and then
we can talk,” he said.

Dad brought me into the
house with his arm around my little shoulders and sat me down on
the living room sofa. He proceeded to tell me that mommy had died
and would not be coming home. It’s hard at that age to understand
death, but the not coming home part, wasn’t comprehendible. I
remember crying so hard and for so long that had to make a call to
our family doctor, who came to make a special house call. Dad had
carried me to my room and put me into my pajamas. I couldn’t stop
crying so the doctor had to give me something to help keep me calm.
Dad to this day has never told me what happened; just that there
had been an accident and she had died. How she died had never been
important to me, just that she was dead and never coming home. I
wanted to see my mom again and sit in her lap while she ran her
fingers through my hair, to run into her room when I had a bad
dream, and to come home to the smell of homemade cookies. I would
never get to do any of those things again, at least with my mom
anyway.

I started to get teary eyed
and realized that Blake was still sitting there.

He leaned over to me and
said, “What are you thinking about that has you looking so
serious?”

“You mean the death of my
best friend, and your supposed brother shouldn't put that look
there?" I firmly asked.

How dare this person get
to understand anything that I'm going through.

"Fine if you must know, my
mom’s death,” I said as I wiped a tear from my face. This guy is
starting to really piss me off.

“I’m sorry to hear that
your mother passed, how old were you?” he asked with what seemed
like real sincerity.

“I don’t want to talk
about it right now, I have to go, please excuse me,” I said as I
started to get up.

Blake grabbed my hand.
Saska started to growl and his lips pulled back to show his
teeth.

“Blake I wouldn’t grab me
like that, my dog has a thing about people touching me,” I said as
I yanked my arm away.

“I apologize. I just
wanted to tell you that if you ever need anything, anything at all,
even if it’s just to talk, I’ll be staying at Logan’s house to help
out his mom.

“I’m sure I won’t, but
thank you,” I said to him as he walked away.

*********

“Well Saska, that was
weird, Logan having a brother, I guess he resembles Logan in his
build, but that’s really about it. He doesn’t seem to have any of
Logan’s charm,” I said to Saska as we walked away from Logan's
funeral.

I’m already use to Saska
being with me that I’m starting to talk to him, like he’s
Logan.

Why did I lie about the
dog and how long he has been in our family, the lie just slipped
right out of mouth, which isn’t like me? I felt like I needed to
protect him, or was he the one protecting me.

We had to walk home
because Dad and driven and I didn’t want to stay until the end of
the service and dealing with all those that knew how close Logan
and I were. I decided to go to Logan’s house later and pay my
respects to Sam, just not now. When we got home, I realized that I
didn’t have any dog food, I'll have to make a trip to the store
soon. I found some left over’s in the fridge for Saska and I made
myself a salad and some lemonade. My Dad wasn’t home from the
funeral yet, but I was glad because I didn’t want him to bring up
Moms letter
again
.

Saska finished his food
and went outside with me for a few minutes. I went over to the tree
swing that my Dad made for me when I was young and I sat down. My
mind started fast tracking with memories of Logan. Saska came over
to me and lay beside the swing.

The wind was lightly
blowing outside and the clouds were stating to roll in, it wasn’t
dark outside but definitely gray. A gust of wind kicked up in my
face and that smell was there again. I know that smell, where do I
know that smell from? It felt like I was kicked in the chest, the
memories were rolling through my mind as if it was really
happening. It was the day of my mother’s funeral and I was swinging
outside thinking about my mother overwhelmed with sorrow when a dog
jumped through the hedges that lined our back yard. The dog knocked
me off my swing and I hit the ground.

That’s it, the dog. I left
the swing, went in the house and upstairs to my room, pulled out my
photo album from the closet, and started flipping through the pages
and I found it. There is was a picture of Saska with me in the back
yard when I was eight or at least it looked like Saska, smaller,
younger maybe, but it was him, I was sure, absolutely sure. Saska
was sitting next to me when this realization hit me, and he put a
paw on my arm.

“So are you the same dog
from when my mom died, I was wondering where I knew your smell
from. So…..how is that possible, where have you been for the last
ten years?” I said as I petted him. This couldn’t be the same dog,
he doesn’t look that old.

The dog just stared at me,
but I couldn’t shake this feeling I was having.

When I was eight this
young dog just shows up and hangs around for about six months then
just disappears one day. My Dad and I thought that maybe he ran
away or that his family finally found him. We had checked with the
shelters, but he was never picked up by anyone.

As I was thinking about
all this stuff Dad and gotten home and managed to come upstairs
without me noticing.

“Next time let me know
you're leaving, so I don't worry, ok," my dad said to me but he
could tell I wasn't really listening to him. "Hey, what are you in
deep thought about?” my dad asked as he was leaning in the
doorway.

I snapped out of
it.

“Sorry, I stayed for
awhile, but left when you were almost done. Look at this picture of
when I was nine, I think you took it,” I said as I turned the album
around to face him.

Dad walked over to my bed
and sat next to me and looked at it.

“Yeah, I remember that
dog. I was grateful you had something to hold onto that got you
through that time,” he said solemnly.

“The dog, look at the dog!”
I said all excited.

“I remember that dog, he
came right after your….yeah I remember him, I wondered what had
happened to that dog, I liked him.” my dad said as he turned the
photo album back to me.

“No
dad
, look at Saska, now tell me this
isn’t the same dog from when I was eight,” I said with
determination.

“Oh honey that can’t be
the same dog, I will admit they do look similar, but the dog in the
picture is different,” he said as he stood up.

“Dad, it’s the same dog,”
I said as I closed the album.

“No honey it’s not, but
they do resemble each other,” he said as he started to leave my
room.

“Hey, by the way, thanks
for sticking around after the service. I had to make excuses as to
where you went,” he said with a frown on his face.

“Sorry Dad, but I didn’t
really feel like talking to anybody.”

“I understand, but next
time at least let me know ahead of time,” he said as he walked out
of my room.

My Dad is pretty easy
going as long as I’m honest with him, especially since my Mom
died.

I was so exhausted from
the last few days, I just wanted to sleep and not think about
anything. I laid down on my bed thinking about Blake. He seems so
mysterious and a little handsome I guess, how would Logan have
taken this news about a brother, or did he know already. I hate
having all these questions unanswered. I drifted off to sleep
without even realizing it.

I only was asleep about an
hour when my phone rang.

“Hello,” I answered all
groggy.

“Hey girl, what’s
shaken?”

“Hi Sully, sorry I was
sleeping,” I said as I started to sit up.

“So how was the…..well how
was it?” Sully asked.

“It was fine, I didn’t
stay long, I just couldn’t take thinking about him anymore. Hey,
that guy was there,” I said.

“What guy?” Sully asked
with curiosity.

“That guy that helped me
last night,” I said as I looked around my room and realized that
Saska was gone.

“Really, so what was he
doing there? That’s bizarre, I’m not sure how I feel about that,”
Sully said.

“Yeah, it was really
weird. What's even more weird is that he says he’s Logan’s
brother,” I said, waiting for Sully to freak out.

Silence.

“Sully,” I asked. I
couldn’t tell if we got disconnected.

“Yeah I’m here, I’m just
tripping out,” Sully said as she took another deep
breath.

I explained to Sully what
transpired between Blake and I and the discovery that I made with
the picture from my album.

“Jayden, I don’t know
what’s happening, but this is getting really creepy. Do you think
your Dad would mind if I stayed the night again. My Aunt’s out of
town for a few days and I hate you being…..well I don’t want you to
have to be alone right now?” Sully asked.

“Of course, my Dad never
minds when you stay the night. Are you leaving right now, because I
had a thought? I want to go up to the attic and look through some
more albums that mom has in a trunk, so just come up to the attic
when you get here,” I said as I started to think about my mom
again.

I hated going up to the
attic, it always made my arm hair stand on end. I always felt like
I had a spider or two in my hair when I left. I would do a wind
mill on my way down making sure nothing was sticking to me. Our
attic door was down the hall next to my parent’s room. My mom kept
the attic locked when I was a kid, I hope the key is still on the
ledge of the door frame.

The key was still there,
awesome.

Before I opened the door I
saw something out of the corner of my eye and I
screamed.

It was just Saska coming up
the stairs.

“You scared me….so where
have you been?” I asked him as he trotted up to me and rubbed his
body on my legs.

“You sure are a lover
aren’t you?” I said to him as I brushed his hair.

“So, are you going to
accompany me to the attic, are you brave enough, because I might
not be,” I joked.

I unlocked the door and
Saska pushed by the door before I even had it open.

“Ok, well I guess old
attics don’t scare you. At least one of us is brave," I
frowned.

My mother was one of the
most organized people I have ever met, sometimes I wonder if she
was a little obsessive sometimes.

My mom never allowed me up
in the attic unless I was with her, and I hadn’t been in the attic
since she died. When I got to the top of the stairs I found a light
switch on the side wall.

It was just how I
remembered it, so many odd things up here. I wonder why my mom
would keep all this stuff. On the right side of the attic was an
old antique metal bed frame, some old pictures and many boxes.
Somewhere in those boxes are all my baby clothes. When I would come
up here with her, she would go through that box to show me how
little I once was. She was always sentimental with all the things
in this attic. I wish that I could sit with her now and go through
all this stuff so that I knew what it meant to her.

Saska had already scouted
the attic out and was back at my side, it was as if I had a trained
guard dog.

I found the wooden chest
that I was looking for with a just a few moves of some old quilts,
and lots of dust and cobwebs, that were stacked on top. I loved
this wooden chest; the smell reminded me of Christmas, an old and
piney, maybe a little musty too. It had carvings on the sides and
top. I wasn’t sure what the carvings were but they reminded me of
old Celtic drawings.

The chest was locked, hum
this might be challenging.

“Jayden, are you up here,”
Sully called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yeah I’m in the back on
the right,” I yelled.

“So, what are we doing up
here, it’s a little dirty and smelly up here.” Sully grabbed at her
own arms like she had a chill.

“I want to look in this
chest, it was always my mom's most treasured item and I was never
allowed to see what was in it. But it’s locked,” I said as I sat on
my knees in front of the chest.

“Locked, nothings locked.
I have to go out to the truck, I’ll be right back,” Sully said as
she ran down the stairs.

Sully returned with a black
leather case.

“What’s that?” I
asked.

“This is my nifty friend,
but don’t ever tell anyone that I have this, I could get in real
trouble,” Sully said as she unzipped it. She pulled out long silver
and black thing looking tools.