The Faery Keepers (4 page)

             
We reach the gate and I hoist Maggie over. I barely make it I’m wobbling so much from exhaustion. I stumble on the landing almost falling flat on my face until Maggie steadies me with her arm.  “Thanks.” I mumble.

             
When I look up I’m elated. The Jeep’s still there.
Yes
. No more walking. I could kiss him.

             
I hobble over to the door and climb in, sinking down onto the seat. I give a little sigh of relief. It helps that he doesn’t have music blaring at full blast that second.

             
He arches his eyebrows at me. “Rough time picking apples?”

             
“You could say that,” I yawn.

             
“You know what’s been bugging me?” he asks.

             
“Hmm?”

             
“I’m nice enough to give you a lift and I don’t even know your name.”

             
I smile a little at that. I was thinking something along those lines, too.

             
“Kate,” I offer.

             
“You sound unsure.”

             
“Maybe I am. I didn’t hear your name.”

             
“And you’re not going to,” he smirks, his eyes glinting mischievously.

             
“Hey! That’s not fair.”

             
“Maybe,” he allows. “Maybe you’ll hear it in the future. Maybe not...”

             
I roll my eyes at him.

             
“Oh stop flirting you two and drive. I’m a bit tired here,” Maggie interrupts from the back seat irritably. I cast a glare at her and am about to say that I am
not
flirting with him. But he turns up his radio and drives, drowning out any retort I am about to say. I can swear I see him smiling a little, just a slight curl of the corners of his mouth.

             
I cross my arms over my chest and lean my head against the window, the air conditioning blows softly across my face from the vents on the dash. It’s easier now to block out the noise of his music. Soon I fall into a dream filled sleep without meaning to.

             
Faces swim across my eyelids. Broken images that make no sense. First a cement wall then a row a trees then a star strewn sky, a face I don’t know, a shadowy figure, most of which were the events of the day. Others I am not so certain.

             
I’m shaken awake by the guy. I open my eyes to find that we’re outside my house and when I look into the back seat Maggie is gone.
What? How did he know where I live?

             
“Hey Sleeping Beauty, you’re home.”

             
I peer at him.

             
He must be pretty good at guessing what I’m thinking because the next thing out of his mouth is: “The cranky chick told me your address after I dropped her off. Here we are.”

             
“Oh. Thanks.”

             
I realize then that its deathly silent inside the Jeep. Strange.

             
“You gonna get out?”

             
“Yeah, sorry. Um, thanks for the ride again.” I find my bag on the floor by my feet and hoist it onto my shoulder. How it got there, beats me. I open the door and jump down, closing it as quietly as I can behind me.

             
He leans across the seat again, opening the window. “The name’s Derek,” is all he says.

             
I’m so startled that I don’t know what to say. So I just nod like an idiot and make my way to my familiar front door, digging for my keys.

             
I fall asleep almost immediately after my head touches my pillow. Hearing Derek rev off is the last conscious thing I register.

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I meet up with Maggie the next day at her place. My mom doesn’t even say two words to me about last night so I guess I’m off the hook. Or she was too passed out from her own job as a nurse to notice. Unsurprisingly I don’t wake up until late in the day. She’s just leaving for work when I make my appearance in the kitchen to grab a quick bite before heading out myself.

             
“Morning.”
i
s all I get.

             
“Yep,” I mumble to an already closed door.
             

             
Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom. But the woman needs to cut back on her hours. She takes anything she can get, though. Raising me by herself and trying to keep up a house is hard work. Or that’s what she tells me any time I make the mistake of bringing it up. So, this is what we have, her leaving whenever I’m around and vice versa. Makes it hard to have quality family time.

             
Since I’m not sixteen yet my only mode of transportation is, sadly, walking, bicycling, or taking the bus. The other having just walked out the door that is. So it looks like I’ll be walking.
Ugh
. Did I mention I can’t wait to get my driving permit? Stupid age limitations...

             
Maggie lives in an apartment in down town Hawthorne Hollow with her older brother, Parker.

Their parents died when Parker was only sixteen himself leaving them with an only aunt. Maggie herself was only nine at the time. But when Parker was legal he got a job and they moved out on their own rather than burden their aunt who clearly didn’t want children at her house. Maggie wasn’t unhappy. Just the opposite. She liked having the freed
om other girls her age didn’t.
But that didn’t mean she doesn’t miss her parents.

             
Parker answers the door when I buzz. “Oh, hey Katie.”

             
His hair is as fair in color as Maggie’s. But where Maggie is all tan and blue eyed, a perfect Californian, he’s pale skinned and brown eyed. A dusting of facial hair covers his jaw line and his hair is a tousled mess. He’s wearing a dark blue band logo shirt and cargo jeans. “Come on in,” he waves.

             
“How’s it going?” I ask, shoving past him.

             
“Pretty good.”

             
“Any news on the band?” Parker was a guitar player after his day job. If you didn’t know him you would have never guessed it. He’d just had a rehearsal for a local band named Bitter Nightingales and was waiting to hear back from them last I heard from his gossip of a sister.

             
“Maggie ruins everything, doesn’t she?” he laughs.

             
“You could say so,” I allow, smirking.

             
“Hey stop talking about me like I’m not here!” comes a protestant voice from the sofa.

             
“Not our fault you didn’t grace us with your presence little sister.”

             
I make my way over to her, “shove over,” I say. She scoots and I plop down on the sofa next to her. “What are you watching?”

             
“Stuff.” she says mysteriously, clicking off the TV.

             
“What was that for?” I ask, sounding a bit whiny. I could do for some couch time.

             
“Parker, get out.” She commands, ignoring my complaint completely.

             
“Not your house.”

             
“Not yours either,” she counters.

             
“I pay the rent." She glares at him. “Fine, fair enough. I’m gone.” He saunters off to one of the bedrooms. The door clicks shut behind him.

             
“Why?" I ask her.

             
“Wait for it...”

             
A few seconds later electric guitar music blares through the closed door.

             
“Much better. Now we can talk without being overheard.”

             
Hmm, good idea.

             
“Was last night real?” I blurt out before she can start.

             
She snorts. “I’m trying to figure that out myself.”

             
It’s hard to hear over Parkers' strumming so we lean towards each other, resting on
each other’s
shoulders. I can’t count how many times we’ve sat like this since we’ve met, talking for hours upon hours.

             
“What do you think this means?” Maggie muses.

             
“I dunno. Better yet, what did Cae—" I struggle to remember his name but come up short. “The gnome mean by Marks?” I start anew. “Do you recall ever seeing any mysterious markings on me?”

             
She ponders this for a moment. “No. I can say I haven’t. What about me?”

             
“No...”

             
“So what? They just pop up out of nowhere like the chicken pox or something?”

             
I laugh. “I sure hope they aren’t like the chicken pox. Remember when we were like five and I caught them? Of course you got them too because we never listened to our parents, and we were both covered in horrible itchy splotches for a full week. Oh, the torture.”  I giggle, feeling her laughing along with me.

             
Those were happier times. Before the loss of her parents made her more serious and less of the fun, risk taker I’d met in preschool. Before then she was the more daring one, climbing on top of the monkey bars on the playground while I was alone on the ground, too scared to join her. Fearless. I always wished I was more like her, not so afraid of heights and other silly things that, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t really matter all that much. But now...things were different. I think it made her look at life with a new perspective.

             
“I don’t think this is like that,” Maggie speaks after a few moments of exuberance, more subdued than she was before. “This is serious. I can feel it.”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“Well...Someone attempted to
kill
that Faery. If you ask me, this is more significant than one act of random violence. And that guy? Tell me you didn’t see that tattoo on his face,” she pauses, considering. “Unless you didn’t?”

             
“I did. But I don’t know what it looked like. It,” now it’s my turn to pause, uncertain whether she will believe me. Assuming that everything we saw really did happen, it’s hard to believe that anything isn’t possible anymore. “It glowed.”

             
“So I’m not crazy then,” she murmurs so low I barely catch it over Parkers music.

             
“Unfortunately, no.”

             
“So where does this leave us?”
             
I think about it for a long time. Should we go back to the pool, figure out why we are a part of this in the first place? Or should we just forget yesterday ever happened and keep living life normally? Could life even
be
normal anymore? No, I don’
t think it can. Our best bet is
to go back up to the pool and talk to the gnome. Figure out as much as we can. Would he even be
there anymore?  I guess we will
find out.

             
I say as much out loud and we head out to walk back to the pool with hopes that Caesleanyx (Maggie being kind enough to remind me of his name) will still be there. She leaves a note for Parker, letting him know where we’re going since he won’t answer our beatings on his bedroom door.

             
It’s only a few blocks to Hawthorne Hollow Public Pool, but it feels like a fifty mile walk after yesterday. Sore leg muscles are a major understatement. That on top of today being another scorcher...let me just say that I
really
hate the whole
sixteen to drive
law. Air conditioning anyone?
Heaven
at this point.

             
We reach the pool. It’s packed again. Can’t say that I blame them, but seriously, there’s a lake a five
minutes’ drive
away. Ever hear of Lake Michigan people? No? No one? Anything to make this that much harder.

             
We flash our passes at the front desk and make our way in, acting like we’re going straight to the pool. We’ve even brought along our suits and towels. Heck, maybe when we’re done finding out that we belong in an insane asylum we can go for a quick dip. No complaints here. Water can do wonders on pain.