BRIDGER (5 page)

As she got up and took a step forward, Memaw extended her hand as a token of peace.
 
I took a step back in fear. According to Chris, hadn’t Memaw been knocking on the nursing home’s door yesterday?
 
This had to be a hallucination.
 
I’d finally cracked. They were going to have to take me to the loony bin with Jamie and lock us away forever.

“It’s okay, Ashlyn.
 
There’s a logical explanation for everything,” Memaw said gently as she took another step forward.

Jamie appeared in the corner of my eye.
 
If Memaw happened to see her, she might try to take her out like the men.
 
I shook my head minutely.
 
Hopefully Jamie would get the hint.

No such luck. Memaw stopped, whipping around to face Jamie.
 
With a small gasp, Memaw shuddered.
 
Jamie had a look of expectance on her face. It was quickly replaced with sheer exultation.

Memaw slowly turned back around, her eyes their emerald green again.
 
There was one difference.

Memaw dropped her gaze to her chest.
 
Her hands clasped the hilt of a dagger that was lodged where her heart would be.
 
Blood slowly blossomed on her shirt surrounding where the dagger had entered.

Where the men had failed, Jamie succeeded.
 
With a scream of triumph, Jamie came forward to pull the dagger from Memaw’s chest.
 
She ran away and headed toward the neighbor’s pond.
 
My eyes returned to Memaw, unable to look away.

Falling to her knees, Memaw looked at me.
 
Pleading was etched in every line of her weathered, ancient face.
 
She had only one request.

“May you never forget what’s worth remembering, nor remember what’s best forgotten,” she choked, holding out a closed fist to me.

Stepping forward, I took her hand in mine, too shocked and confused to comprehend what had just happened.
 
She placed something into my hand.
 
The end of a golden chain hung from my now closed fist.

“Run,” was all she said before she crumpled into the snow.
 
When her body hit the ground, all that was left were her clothes.

FIVE

I woke up screaming.

Lying there trying not to hyperventilate, I focused on breathing in and out.
 
Coming to the conclusion that Jamie was not a soulless murderer and Memaw was probably upstairs snoring on the couch, I let out an audible exhale.
 
I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath.

Kicking off the comforter did nothing to stop the uncontrollable sweat.
 
At this rate I would soak the entire bed if I didn’t get out.
 
Grabbing some fresh clothes, I leaned against the dresser.
 
My hands were balled in fists, ready for a fight that hadn’t happened in reality.
 
Letting them relax, my nails left perfect crescents in the palms of my hands.
 
It had all seemed so real.

Jumping at the sound of the door opening, Chris thundered down the stairs in his usual fashion.
 
“Merry Christmas, Midget.”

I smiled at him sadly.
 
It looked like he was hurting from the absence of Dad as much as I was.
 
“Merry Christmas to you too, Sasquatch.”

He put his arm around me and placed a small package in my hands.
 
“It’s not much, but it’s something.”

He had printed a picture of us and put it in a metal frame.
 
He took it once more, holding it out for both of us to examine.
 
“I made it in machine shop.”

“It’s awesome.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not.”

He smiled.
 
“Then thanks.
 
Don’t tell anyone, but you’re all right. You know, as a sister, I mean.”

I laughed and set the picture on my dresser.
 
“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You ready to open presents?”

“I’ll be up in a minute.
 
I really need to take a shower.”

Chris gave me a once-over.
 
His eyes lingered on the stains starting to appear around the collar of my old, green softball t-shirt as my sweat dried.
 
“What were you doing last night?
 
Running a marathon?”
 

“Bad dream.”

He nodded.
 
“I’ve had a few of those lately.
 
Get ready.
 
We’ll be upstairs.”
 
Bounding up the stairs, he disappeared in an instant, leaving me to collect myself.

In the absence of a necessity to keep myself composed, I crumpled to the floor in a heap and allowed the horror of my nightmare to wash over me.
 
It was simply Memaw’s prejudice coming to a head with my overactive imagination, but I had felt more aware in the dream than since waking up in the hospital yesterday.
 
Apparently concussions were good for altered states.

Then it hit me. Dad wasn’t going to be upstairs, waiting to hand out gifts.
 
Dad was gone. Feeling that realization hit like a cement truck, I leaned back against the dresser.
 
Air hitched in my throat and it had nothing to do with an allergic reaction.
 
The emptiness in my heart threatened to pull me under in the same way Dad had been pulled under the frigid water four days ago.

I stood up and walked to the mirror, curiosity overtaking the crushing grief.
 
Sadness took control once again when I realized my eyes had returned to their regular black.
 
The medications in the IV at the hospital must have done crazy things to my system, causing my eyes to catch a hint of color yesterday.
 
I reached over to grab contacts from the top of the dresser.
 
Today my eyes would match the feeling of the entire family: blue.

I walked to the bathroom to shower and pulled outer garments off along the way.
 
Briefly stopping to turn my iPod on shuffle and place it on my stereo, I didn’t wait to see what came on first.
 
I turned on the shower and tossed the last of my clothes in a heap on the floor, while turning back around to get in.

As the shorts hit the floor, I heard the clink of metal against the tile.
 

I turned to see what it was. A gold chain hung out of the right pocket.

SIX

I dressed mechanically while examining the chain.
 
It was draped over a nail holding up the bathroom mirror.
 
The necklace had to be a figment of my imagination.
 
There was no way it could really be here.

There had to be a rational way that the necklace ended up in my shorts.
 
I pulled it off the nail, wrapping it around my index finger.
 
The charm hung delicately on the thin chain.

Intricately woven, the golden design came together in Celtic knots.
 
A flower was the end result.
 
In the center was a brilliant emerald, surrounded by diamonds.
 
It was inconsequential in size, but it was gorgeous.
 
Although it had been in the room throughout my shower, it was still ice cold.
 
It was strange.
 
I wished I could figure out how it ended up in my pocket.

This pendant was exactly what Memaw had handed me as she had breathed her last wish.
 
It had been about not remembering what wasn’t important, or something like that.
 
The details were slipping away like sand in an hourglass.
 
I was losing important details, but how could what have happened in a dream mean anything?
 
It was like trying to connect dots in the dark.
 
I was all over the board attempting to make something connect, but only making things worse.

Chris stirred me from my preoccupation by slamming his fist against the bathroom door.
 
It sounded like a crack of thunder not even three feet away.

He growled playfully through the door. “Any day now, Midget.
 
I’d like to open presents before I turn fifteen.”

I balled up the necklace in my fist and pulled my favorite t-shirt over my head. I ran my hand through my wet hair to comb out the rats, then put on the shell necklace I always wore.

“Beauty takes time, butthead.”
 
I opened the door and shook my head to soak Chris.
 
The water works was given to Memaw instead.
 
I blushed and rushed out an apology, handing her a towel to dry off with.

“We need to talk,” Memaw said.

“Where’d Chris go?”

Memaw wasn’t deterred.
 
“Ashlyn, we need to talk
now
.”

“Um, okay.”
 
Confusion had been a regular part of the past few days.
 
I couldn’t figure out which end was up at this point.
 
Treading water was good enough.
 
Getting away from home was a necessity to escape from the pain here.

We walked up to Dad’s office.
 
None of us had entered this room in the past week.
 
It was a safe bet we wouldn’t be interrupted in there.
 
This was going to be a serious monologue, and I wasn’t the one that would be doing the talking.
 
I steeled myself to hold my tongue, no matter what she said.

“Ashlyn, do you trust me?”

That wasn’t the introduction I had been expecting.
 
Neither one of us was fond of the other, but I was still afraid to hurt her feelings.
 
“Memaw, we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye over the years.”

Memaw looked away, eyes focusing on a family photograph of her, Mom, Dad, Chris, and I.
 
We were sitting in a pile of leaves, laughing.
 
It was one of the last photos we took before…
 
I swallowed and looked back at Memaw, but her emerald eyes were far away in thought.

“I know we haven’t been close.
 
I apologize.
 
You just weren’t what I was expecting for my first grandchild,” she said simply.
 
Her eyes were apologetic as she said the words that hurt much worse than they should have.
 
I knew she never expected a granddaughter, but the verbal confirmation made the rejection more tangible, measurable.
 
I wasn’t wanted.
 
Chris was what she had wanted.

“Well, that’s never been a secret,” I stated coldly.
 
Her recoil was satisfying in a petulant way.
 
Let her have some of her own medicine, the old hag.
 
The anger I’d bottled up for so long was building; it felt like acid eating away at my stomach.
 
Knowing that staying here any longer would result in me saying something I’d really regret, I headed for the door.

She grabbed the back of my shirt, pulling me back to her with the strength I had witnessed last week.
 
She looked too frail to be able to do that.
 
I stood frozen and silent, eyeing the door. What were the chances of catching her by surprise and bolting? If she caught me, she would definitely use that cane of hers.
 
Staying put was smarter.
 
A family brawl on Christmas day was probably not in the best interests of anyone involved. “What else do you want to say that I already know?”

“What you think you already know is a prejudiced hatred toward me,” she said, her words coming out slow, cautious.
 
“If you would give me the benefit of the doubt, I could explain.”
 
She was throwing the words out like white flags of truce.
 
However, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to accept them. She had verbally slapped me across the face not five minutes before.