Shady Bay (25 page)

I kissed Lulu goodbye and
rushed out the door pausing only for a moment to tie the lace of my left shoe. Most evenings I flung the shoes off, still tied, into the corner of my bedroom. They must have come undone. I valued my sleep and mornings weren’t my thing, so even stopping to tie the stupid things wasn’t normally an option.  If I didn’t run fast, I would be late and late wasn’t tolerated. I wrapped my hair band around my wrist and ran—ran like the devil himself was on my heels.

The earth beneath me was parched despite the dew that hung heavy off of the grass and leaves around us, glittering coyly in the morning sunshine. Clouds of dust billowed up underfoot as I jumped over fallen logs and dodged ruts in the well-worn pathways of the village. Chest heaving and breath shallow, I finally spotted the whitewashed wooden fence surrounding the orchard. Running down the path and cutting the corner in the grass, I used the corner fence post to turn with so I wouldn’t lose speed or momentum, and propelled myself forward.

I threw one leg over the bottom rail and ducked underneath the top one before taking off again, weaving my way through the thousands of rows that would lead me to my work for the day. A shrill scream stopped me in my tracks. The dust cloud that followed in my wake caught up with me. I coughed and swiped the air to get it away from my mouth, but I could still taste the earth on my tongue.

Another high-pitched scream. From the left. I jogged to the end of the row and saw her. Megan’s trembling little body was backing quickly toward me. She shook her head fiercely, brown curls frantically bouncing to and fro. She turned to run toward me, but I caught her and turned her around to face me. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Megan? What’s the matter?”

Swallowing thickly, she turned and looked behind her. My eyes followed hers. Norris stood nearby with his back leaning against one of the fence posts, an evil grin plastered on his face.

“Back to work. This isn’t your business, Abigail.”

Clenching my teeth, I ignored him. “Megan, what happened?”

Her trembling little voice shook when she explained. “I was so hungry. I just wanted one apple. I took it. I’m so sorry.” Tears exploded from her eyes and her tiny arms and hands wrapped around my neck. I hugged her tight and shushed her.

Locking eyes with the disgusting man in front of me, I squared my shoulders, preparing for the fight I knew was inevitable now. “She was hungry. She won’t steal again.”

Chuckling, he grinned at us both, the scar on his face puckering and pulling his flesh. “You don’t get any say in this, Abigail. She stole. You know the punishment for stealing. Don’t you, girl?”

Megan nodded.

“If she’s old enough to understand the consequences, she’s old enough to know better than to steal. She gets five lashes.” Before I even saw him flinch, he grabbed Megan from my arms and tucked her under his own. She kicked, screamed, and thrashed to get away. But, it was all in vain. Shrieking, she pleaded, “Please! Please, I promise I’ll never take another apple. Please!”

Gritting my teeth, I ran after them and snatched her back from him. I set her on her feet and pushed her toward the sanctuary of the Orchard. “Run, Megan.” She hesitated. I pointed into the orchard. “Find Kyan. Run!” Megan looked at Norris and then back to me. She took off as fast as her little legs could carry her and disappeared into the trees.

Barely able to breathe, I turned to face Norris. Judge, jury, and executioner all rolled into one fun package. That was Norris. Fear and adrenaline coursed through my body, shaking its very foundation. A sickening grin erupted on his face. “Looks like you’re taking her punishment. You’re old enough to be considered an adult now. You’ll get the full fifteen.”

There was no point in arguing. I was almost seventeen. And I’d learned the hard way more than once, that arguing with Norris always made things worse.

∞

A guttural sound echoed around
me. Sweat beaded heavily upon my brow and upper lip, before the droplets could no longer withstand the force of gravity, and carved their way down my face. I sank my teeth deep into the fullness of my bottom lip in a feeble attempt to draw attention away from the searing pain slicing through my back. A tangy, coppery taste flooded my mouth. I released my lip. Tried to lick away the blood.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m taking you to the healer.” He never paused, just carried me like a child, my legs wrapped around him hooking together by the ankles at the small of his back. I clung tight to him like a tick, choking his neck, afraid to let go. With each step, each jostle, the pieces of the torn flesh on my back separated ever so slightly further apart. But, the pain didn’t feel slight at all. Another sound was ripped from my throat.

“Ky,” I whimpered almost inaudibly, the words carried on an exhaled breath.

“Shh. Almost there.” I forced my eyes open, allowing tears to escape in big pooling puddles that spread over the gray cotton of Ky’s shirt and soaked in. The world bounced around me. Leaves that only hinted at the yellow that would soon overcome them, waved solemnly at me moved by the steady wind that blows constantly through the valley. Bile burned my throat.
My back.
Oh, God
. I clamped them shut again.

A tree root dissected the path causing Kyan to stumble, a curse flew loud and free from his mouth.  The sound of my scream echoed through the hills closing in around us. My back was tearing open and I was certain that this was the beginning of the end for me. I was dying, or would soon.

A sound like rushing water filled my ears just before black dots began to cloud my vision. He stepped up onto a porch covered end to end with planters in varying shapes and sizes, each overflowing with herbs. Medicines. I smelled mint, lavender, thyme, lemongrass with each step he took toward the door.  This was the porch of the healer, I realized, just before everything faded to black. We were here.

Muffled sounds filled my ears.
Am I dead?
No. I could hear Ky’s voice. And her’s; Evelyn. Evelyn has been the healer in our village for longer than I could remember, even before I was born, or came to live here, anyway. I can picture her shriveled hands, the skin soft but paper-thin. The blue of her veins was visible through her delicate, translucent skin. But those hands. Those miraculous hands had healed and comforted so many through the years. And now, she was using them on me.

Lightning ripped through my back. Those hands were touching it. And, oh, how I prayed she would stop. But these wounds had cut deep. Into a place so deep, they would never heal, even if the flesh and muscle of my back ever did.

The muffled sound of whimpering filled my ears.
Who is that?
Confusion set in and I briefly wondered who else was in the room with me, until I realized that the sound had been my own. “Are you awake? If so, squeeze my hand.” Her cool hand gripped mine and I concentrated hard, clenched my teeth and finally willed my fingers to tighten around hers. “Okay, dear. You’re going to be in a lot of pain. I’m going to mix a special tea to take the edge off and Kyan is going to help you drink it while I tend to your wounds.”

I squeezed her hand again in acknowledgement. A heavy sigh filled the room. A few minutes later, the sound of chair legs scooting across the rough wooden floor startled me and I opened my eyes. The lids were so heavy and it took so much energy just to try to keep them open.

I couldn’t see his face, just his legs and stomach, but Ky was now seated beside the bed that I lay upon.  He smelled like crisp leaves in the fall and sunshine all year long. And I would know that smell anywhere. He lifted my head slightly and positioned the porcelain mug at my lips. “Drink.”

His voice sounded thick, gruff.
He must be angry at me.
I was angry. Not because of what I did. I would do it again in a heartbeat. I was angry because I had to do it at all.

I sipped slowly, gingerly from the mug. The liquid was steaming hot and horribly bitter, but I drank it down, or tried to, anyway. Some of it dribbled down my chin, and Ky swiped it away before holding the mug back up for me again. I gulped the rest down quickly in an attempt to get some relief and to just get it over with.

I hissed as Evelyn spread something cold and slimy over my skin. “I’m sorry, dear. But, there’s no other way. Your back is really mangled. It’s going to take a while to heal properly. Packing the wounds with this poultice is the only way to jumpstart that process.” She sighed deeply and I realized that she had been the one to release the sigh that had filled the room earlier.

She plopped more of the slime onto my back. It burned a bit, but at the same time, was cool and soothing. I relaxed, sinking my head further into the soft down pillow beneath it. My body became very heavy. My arms and legs felt strange, like someone was poking them with a thousand small needles, and I wasn’t sure that I could lift them anymore, even if I wanted to. “Feeling tired?” she asked.

I nodded, as well as I could, into the pillow that my face was nestled. “Good. The medicine is working.”
Her voice sounds funny.
My eyelids drifted shut. Before too long, sleep claimed me.

∞

“Wake up, Abby.” The deep
timbre of Kyan’s voice hovered close to my ear. “Time to get you home.” I blinked slowly, purposefully. My eyelids were heavy. The rough, calluses on Kyan’s hands scraped gently against my arms as he pulled me upright. “If there was any other way to carry you, I would, but neither Evelyn nor I can figure out an alternative that wouldn’t hurt you worse.”

I nodded as he positioned himself in front of me and then once again lifted me like a child. I held tight, trying to will the fuzziness clouding my mind and vision away. Ky, usually talkative, was quiet, which probably meant that he was mad. He carried me down the worn pathway through the sycamores and pines, splashed across the tiny creek, toward my house. I lived in my aunt Lulu’s small cabin on the outskirts of Orchard Village, a Lesser settlement.

He never faltered while carrying my weight along with his own. My body felt like it weighed a ton. A few minutes later, Ky stepped onto my porch, through the front door and into my bedroom. He’d brought one of his big button-down shirts for me to wear. Though I was all but swimming in it, it was functional– loose and didn’t cling to the wounds or bandages on my back.

The buttons would make it easy to put on and remove. He lowered me down, positioning me just in front of my bed. My feet found the floor and I held up my own weight, steadied by his hands upon my arms. “Norris came by.” He cleared his throat of the thickness that hung onto his words.

I cringed. Just the sound of his name was enough to remind me of both the sound and feel of the sharp crack of his whip. “What did he want?”

“To hand down the rest of your punishment.” Kyan’s words dripped of contempt.

A bitter laugh escaped my mouth. “What more can he possibly do to me?”

“It can always get worse, Abs. You’re banned from the orchards for now. You’ll work this week and maybe next, as a servant.” His words trailed away.

“What? What do you mean? I can work in the orchards.”

He shook his head. “No. Right now you can’t.”

“You’re siding with him? He’s a monster!”

Ky grabbed my chin, with his forefinger and thumb, and gently forced my face upward. My eyes followed.
Traitors.

“No.” His deep brown eyes bore into mine. His hair had been cut. It was short and golden—a halo on my angelic best friend. He clenched his jaw, working the muscle in his cheek. “I don’t agree with anything Norris does, but—”

I tried to turn away, but he refused to release my chin. “But, you need to heal. If serving in a house for a week or so allows you to do that, then I’m all for it.”

Tears flooded my eyes, blurring him for a moment. “Don’t cry, Abby.” His voice softened and he pulled me against his chest, holding tight to my upper arms. He was being so careful not to touch my back, although I wished with everything in me that he could wrap his arms around me and squeeze me for all he was worth.

Kyan had been my best friend ever since I moved here to live with my aunt. He lived just across the hay field that stretched out gracefully between our homes. Long ago, a path was trodden through the center of it, worn by both his feet and mine.