Ghost of a Shadow Read online

  The thick wall of leaves and thorns began to thin. The bushes and trees grew farther apart, and Sadie was able to return to her feet. The obstacle course of branches and vines gave way to a patch of lush green grass that climbed a small hill. At the top of the hill sat a fallen cedar, the perfect spot to sit and catch her breath.

  Sadie willed herself up the steep incline and tossed her backpack to the ground. She sat on the moss-covered bark and picked half a dozen burrs from her jacket and several leaves from her hair.

  When she looked down the hill, her breath caught in her chest. It was worth all she’d endured.

  The most breathtaking turquoise stream meandered through the shallow valley below. Forgetting her fatigue, Sadie walked down toward the stream’s bank, Barnaby at her side. She’d never before seen water this clear. A cool mist settled on her skin. Smooth, white stones speckled the stream bed, while brightly colored fish swam through patterns of light.

  I don’t see any evidence of people…It’s remarkable! Compelled to see where the stream led, Sadie followed its moss-covered banks. When the sun sank to five fingers from the horizon, she saw, wearing the stream like a shawl, a lone majestic tree of a type she’d never seen before. It was taller than any tree she’d ever known, its roots spreading out in a perfect circle around the trunk. Strangest of all, its long, breezy branches grew down rather than up.

  How cool is that? The space underneath those branches is like a cave, but one made of green-and-golden light. Once sunlight filtered through the branches, it remained, reflected by a gentle ricochet. The towering tree silently called to her, its magnetic force drawing her in. Light as air, Sadie literally floated on her tiptoes until she stood in front of the ancient-looking bark.

  Coming out of her hypnotic state, she asked the tree, “What was that? Did you do it?”

  She pressed her palm against the trunk. The tree’s energy surged into her hand, tingling along her fingers and up her arm. The feeling had the same quality as the musical buzzing she’d heard earlier at the Fletcher house, only a trillion times stronger.

  At first it overwhelmed her. She couldn’t keep her hand still for more than a second at a time. She stepped back but not out of fear. She knew to give herself a minute, somehow, so she could align with its melody. She didn’t know how she knew, but this tree deserved respect. The energy, having made itself known, now diffused.

  After a moment, she decided to try again. This time she knew what to expect. She eased her hand to the trunk and was able to keep it there.

  Sadie sat down in a small hollow at the base of the tree, her back pressed against the smooth bark. As she sat quietly, she experienced the charged exchange. Barnaby joined her, curling up in her lap. She petted him and listened to him purr. “Barnaby, your fur is as silky as I remember.”

  Barnaby butted his head against her hand, and the corners of his mouth lifted.

  It was getting easier to allow the tree’s energy to flow among all of them. Feeling the warmth in her heart and the soft melodious bells in her ears, she knew the spot under this tree was meant for her.

  They sat together for a while. She knew she’d be back. It was okay to go home now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Pudding, Punch, and Pie

  “The pudding looks exceptional today, doesn’t it, Beagle? It’s got that three-inch skin on it you like so much.”

  The muffled sounds ahead made the boys in line behind Finn bob and sway as they tried to get an eyeful of the commotion, but it didn’t succeed in pulling Finn’s attention away from the chocolate dollop that filled the small bowl on his dull metal tray.

  Meals at the detention facility were served in an industrial cafeteria. The walls were pea green and mustard yellow, while the floor was a multicolored linoleum disaster. There were twenty tables, able to seat ten boys each. The room was in constant motion as the swarm got their food, threw rolls, and stole what they could off each other’s trays.

  “I like your sheen,” Finn said to the pudding, but nobody, including the dessert, paid the least bit of attention. “What’s that you say, Beagle?” he asked, staring straight ahead at the glass shelf. “Speak up, man! And clearly, please. You don’t prefer the pudding today? Okay, we’ll move on then.”

  Even though Finn joked, it wasn’t like Beagle not to respond by the time his last syllable sounded. Finn glanced to his left. No Beagle. A short, pudgy boy stood beside him and pointed to the front of the line. Beagle had gone on ahead and gotten into a difficult pinch.

  His Beagle was surrounded by a group of three broad-shouldered thugs, infamous for roughing up anyone who looked vulnerable in the slightest. He’d heard tales of them tormenting his little friend, but that was before he’d arrived. Finn’s hands tightened around the edges of his tray, the glistening pudding momentarily forgotten as he focused his attention forward, letting his internal pressure cooker build up more steam.

  “What? Are you firsty, dog face?” one of the boys taunted Beagle.

  “Yeah, don’t you know you can only drink out of a special bowl?” the smallest of the three jeered him.

  Finn noted the security guards absorbed in their card game, laughing it up behind the Plexiglas in the back.

  “On the ground, puppy! That’s so you can drink properly with your tongue.”

  The third boy to speak was the tallest of the three and stout too. He knocked Beagle’s knee out and shoved him hard, making him lose his balance and land face first into a puddle of thick sludge near the drain on the floor.

  Beagle got up.

  Finn could practically smell the sourness dripping down Beagle’s cheek. It was an odor and taste he didn’t envy his tiny attaché.

  The instant it turned physical, Finn broke from the line and approached the bully standing between the other two. “Are you the boss here?” The moments ticked by. Finn cocked his head when there was no reply.

  The middle kid opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Finn shifted on his heel, gracefully bringing his tray around as he turned. The largest boy soon met with a pudding-and-metal combination smash to the head. He went down. A loud, sickening crack sounded as his knee met the floor. Not content to leave it there, Finn completed the job with a fierce kick to his shoulder. Head met floor, which seemed to say, You’re going to be here for a while. Finn stood, with tray in hand, over the prostrate body as if it were a prize he’d won in a carnival game.

  A visible energy rolled off the tray but more so from Finn’s body. It shrieked a warning that spread throughout the room, rattling the tables.

  The usual loudmouthed banter and chewing ceased. For a moment the room sat suspended in the silence of awe. Someone clapped, and then a few others joined in. Several boys stood on their chairs and let out hoots and whoops. Within seconds the entire room erupted in cheers and applause.

  The guards ran out of their protected room and looked ready to roar, but when they saw who fell, they bit their lips and shook their heads.

  “Okay, okay, everyone. Have a seat,” the husky guard hollered, “and by that I mean sit on them.”

  “Yeah,” barked the one with the bristly mustache, “you’ve had your fun. Hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.”

  Two of the four guards picked up the semiconscious boy from the floor and inch-walked him out of the hall as quickly as his deadweight allowed.

  The remaining two guards continued herding, but it didn’t help. Everyone talked over one another, and it took five minutes to settle the room again.

  Finn placed the tray back on the rails and picked up two servings of pudding and napkins. He felt everyone’s eyes on him as he crossed the room with Beagle at his side. He handed the smaller boy one of the puddings and a napkin. “Wipe your face. It’s starting to crust over.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Finn gave Beagle a distracted nod as he listened to all the whispers: “Who’s that kid?” “Where did he come from?”

  He was pleased, smiling on the inside, as he stood
near the cafeteria exit, spooning shiny chocolate pudding into his mouth while observing his new domain.

  Finn dropped his tray into the bus bucket, and he and Beagle headed back to their cell. Beagle didn’t take his eyes off him. Finn continued his silent pacing once the door had closed.

  “Sir?”

  Finn continued to walk, tapping his fingers against each other in quick succession.

  There wasn’t the slightest change to indicate he’d been heard, so Beagle gave it one more try, a bit louder this time.

  “I don’t mean to bother you, sir, but I didn’t want you to have to come to my rescue like that. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” The boy drew a deep breath and let it out as quietly as he could.

  Finn stopped, parallel with Beagle. One second later, Finn’s giant face loomed an inch from his.

  “You’ve done me a service, Beagle, though you might not realize it. I won’t forget it.” Finn’s hand rose then turned into a fist. “However, my boy, if you go on ahead of me in line like that again—ever—it will be the last thing you do in this lifetime.”

  Beagle shivered, nodding. He dropped his gaze, no longer looking Finn in the eye.

  “It’s past time for your punishment, but it’ll be meted out at the appropriate moment, I’m sad to say.”

  “Why? I’ll never do it again, as you said,” Beagle ventured quietly, on the verge of tears.

  “Because, Beagle. Because. He and I have talked about it, and now I’ve told you. Stay close or you will die.”

  Beagle shifted his weight from side to side. His mouth hung open a few seconds before he spoke. “I will stay close. Who is ‘he,’ sir?”

  Further irritated by this question, Finn shouted, “Why does that matter to you? Mind your own stinking business and be silent! No more words from you today!”

  Beagle cried in earnest now, evidenced by the regular rise and fall of his bony shoulders as he curled tighter into a ball. He whimpered, his back to Finn.

  Finn stood up and resumed his finger-tapping walk.

  The next day, lunch was quite different. The guards watched for a few minutes. The cafeteria was orderly, and they returned to their cards.

  Two empty seats had been left at the end of many of the tables, should their occupants be lucky enough to host the new celebrity.

  Finn scanned the room and selected his seat. It didn’t matter that a boy already was sitting in the place he chose.

  The greasy-haired blond kid in the seat stood as Finn approached; in fact the boy nearly tripped over his chair as he hurried to pick up his tray.

  “What’s your name?” Finn asked the departing one.

  “Alistair.”

  “I won’t forget this small act of respect, Alistair. Off you go. Come back in ten.”

  Finn cleared his throat and eyeballed the kid with the tightening jaw who sat across the table. “We’ll need that seat too, I’m afraid.”

  There was no movement in the ensuing seconds. With a cheery smile on his face, Finn reached out, quicker than light, and bent the boy’s fingers backward. There were a couple of pops and one possible crack.

  Before the kid could scream, Finn put a finger up to his own lips, commanding silence. With tears streaming down his cheeks, the kid struggled to pick up his tray with his good hand and scurried off to another table. Finn hadn’t bothered to ask his name.

  Beagle sat down in the vacated chair.

  Over the next half hour, Finn sat and held court, welcoming many guests. They came to thank him and bring small offerings. They even brought cigarettes, which traded like gold in the bustling contraband market of the detention center. Finn sat silently and received them.

  Leadership is rightfully yours, Finn, bestowed the Voice that kept him company in his mind. They’re wise to seek your approval.

  The only time he was anything other than magnanimous was when a giant of a boy came up to him.

  “Get on the ground,” he commanded.

  Beagle stiffened.

  The boy began, “Just who do you think you’re talking—” But his words were cut short in the unwavering power of Finn’s steely-eyed stare. First his hands, next his arms, and then his whole body visibly shook. “What’s happening to me?” he asked, in a voice an octave higher. His body quaked until he knelt as originally commanded.

  On his knees, the boy stared at Finn, even after the unknown pressure had compelled him to yield.

  “What’s your name, man?” Finn asked.

  “Fred,” the boy croaked out. He remained on his knees, his eyes now directed at the floor.

  “Rise now, Fred. Will you join us?”

  “How did you do that to me?”

  “I did nothing. I’ll ask you one last time: do you accept this honor of joining us?”

  Fred stood. Seconds seemed like hours. Finn thought the boy looked as though a war were waging inside.

  Finn rolled his shoulders back and straightened up further. “Taking a moment to think there, Fred? Smart man. I appreciate thoughtful commitment.”

  Fred’s once-defiant expression changed to concession. “Yes. I will join you.”

  “Have a seat with us.” Finn pointed to the chair next to Beagle, which was occupied at that moment. Without another word, the boy vacated the chair, and Fred sat down, resting his beefy forearms on the table.

  Finn intermittently acknowledged those who came to welcome him, but most of his attention stayed with Fred, Beagle, and Alistair, who’d since rejoined them. “I want each of you to find the best someone to recruit and make up our gang. Do you need to know the specific qualities?” Finn leaned toward them, grasping the table’s edge in front of him until his knuckles turned white.

  They all shook their heads, just enough.

  “Good.”

  Pushing himself up, Finn stood and raised his arms above his head to draw the attention of the room.

  “Are you listening?” his voice boomed.

  For the second time in two days, the room was silent.

  “I recognize you all for what you are. How nice to be welcomed in this manner.” There was a syrupy tone to his voice, yet it allowed no opposition. “You may come again tomorrow, but this is it for today.”

  Finn got up to leave. Beagle, Alistair, and Fred followed him out. They headed down the hallway to their various cells.

  “Later. Keep an ear to the ground, everyone,” Finn called after them.

  “I’ll keep you updated,” Alistair responded. “At lunch tomorrow unless I hear something before that.”

  “See you then,” Finn confirmed.

  Finn and Beagle continued to their cell. Finn watched out of the corner of his eye as Beagle struggled to keep up.

  Are you having fun? inquired the Voice that came from within.

  “I can’t talk to you now. I’m busy.”

  You’ll talk to me whenever I appear. Don’t fool yourself, pal.

  Even at the peak of his glory, Finn decided not to argue.

  Do you know what you’re meant to do up ahead? Do you know why you’re collecting them?

  I felt it was the thing to do, Finn thought.

  That’s because I’m always here, prompting you, even when you don’t realize it. Don’t forget that. When I call in my chips, you must obey.

  Finn paused then thought, It’s for Beagle to do my bidding, not for me to do yours. I’m in control. My orders must be obeyed. He waited for Beagle to catch up then turned to look at him. “I must obey?” He laughed under his breath. “We’ll see about that.” Finn’s pace quickened, as did his temper.

  “Sir? Obey? But I…What?”

  Yes, we’ll see, said the Voice. Unless you do what I need you to do, this will come to an unsatisfactory end.

  So you say, but what proof have you offered?

  I don’t need to provide any, but I can. I am you, idiot. I can hurt you more than you can imagine. Would you like your proof now, Finn?

  Finn felt a stab behind his left eye. A poke on his nerves t
hat was impossible to ignore. His face contorted, and he bent over, distressed. A long moment later, the pain finally eased.

  Openmouthed, Beagle leaned toward Finn then backed away, shaking. “Are you okay, sir?”

  Fine. You proved your point. Now leave me alone. I’ve got things to do.

  “It’s been a long day, Beagle,” Finn decided. “I need to lie down.”

  The lunchtime ceremony continued for several days. Finn ordered Beagle to bring a large paper sack with him each day as they took their place at the far end of the room, against the wall. Visitors lined up, far enough away to provide Finn privacy. They dropped their cigarettes, candy, soap, and an occasional magazine or deck of cards into the bag as they sought Finn’s counsel.

  Though the room still hummed with various conversations, the once-raucous din had quieted, thanks in part to the disappearance of the metal lunch trays. Their replacements were made of dull cardboard. It was a silent acknowledgement from the officers who patrolled the room to the newest resident who had come out of nowhere.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Enter the Jennifer…Joie de Vivre!

  Banyan…

  Sadie heard the whisper and twitched, causing Barnaby to jump off her lap. “Did you hear that too, Barnaby?”

  The cat gave her a blank stare, turned, and sauntered off without even a good-bye.

  “Fine. Be that way. I know I heard a name.” Sadie stood next to the tree and placed her palm against it. “Is that what you’d like me to call you? Banyan?”

  She closed her eyes and waited for an answer.

  Banyan, replied the wind.

  It had taken a week of daily visits to find out his name. By researching trees, she had learned he was a weeping willow. She didn’t think it was possible, but every day brought her more connection to her secret place. She never knew when Barnaby would show, but she loved when he did.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow. Thank you for telling me your name, Banyan.”

  She headed home, away from the Fletcher house, making sure no one saw her leave the woods. She was almost there when she saw a moving truck pull up to the house across the street.