Sacrificed Soul

Chapter Nineteen

I'm unsure if it's my cowardice or the exhaustion of the last day and a half that has silenced my thoughts during my long drive up to the cabin, but either way I am thankful for it. My mind consumes only the world through my eyes as we cruise along the twisting vine of Sierra way as it leads me up the mountain and offers nothing else in return.

The wind from the open top whips at my hair while the sun beats down on me. When I glimpse it, tourists are floating lazily through the water in their inner tubes and fisherman stand at the banks with tangled lines. Cars and trailers and all manner of tents line the short cliffs that lead down to the Kern river, campers enjoying all that my homeland has to offer.

I slow for a small herd of deer that crosses the asphalt, successfully speeding along once they've passed before finding my turn onto the dirt road that leads home. The suspension on the jeep is poor and needs to be replaced along with the clutch, and my only thought on the subject is that I may have to pay Dick Wallens a visit.

The path is well tread from a week and a half of family members driving it and my own trips to and from work at the clinic, so I don't know that I have visitors until I pull around the final bend that reveals the cabin. David's fancy electric car and Lenora's sparkling new one wait in front of me, the warning bells already alarming. By the time I park, I've found my calm through breathing exercises Clare taught me and Dodger forced me to practice. I knew that I wouldn't be able to escape their scrutiny for long, and I was lucky that they'd held their wagging tongues in front of Mammy, Marsha, and Maureen. I'm sure I would have never gotten free of the Clan house had they spoken up about what they'd seen last night.

They don't ambush me as I expected, either. Almost too casually, they slink out the front door and help haul what few bags I have inside. We're all silent as my groceries are placed in their proper spots. When it's complete, I stand listlessly by the couch, my hands pressing hard into the worn velvet fabric, eyes on the little yellow flowers I like so much.

Still, they don't speak. David reaches me first, his arm wrapping behind my back as he rests his chin on my shoulder. Lenora threads her fingers through my own, her head finding it's perch on my other. I'm tense until their warmth begins to seep into me, their quiet acceptance of me so different from the rest of the clan, and so necessary. I hadn't realized how well they'd known me despite what I'd thought were only short conversations over the phone while I was imprisoned.

We stand there, together, soaking in our familial love of each other for a long time before I'm pulled into my den. Once our clothes are shucked, we all fall to four feet, their second souls rubbing against my true form. The bed dips and groans with our some odd combination of eight hundred pounds of muscle and bone as we snuggle over the covers. The AC kicks on, the vent blasting us with the cool air drifting from it.

The serenity of closeness to pack cools the heat in my chest, the peaceful lull of it calms my shivering soul. I am the first to fall asleep.

When I wake, I'm still in the fur. My head feels heavy where it rests over Lenora's side, levered up and down gently by her even breathing, the length of her tucked close along my own. The toilet flushes from my bathroom, and the door complains as David pushes through it. His hand brushes through my coat, tangling in the thickness before withdrawing from my bedroom. I stand, removing myself from the bed since I've been caught, and the bouncing wakes my sister. She huffs, but we both dress and enter the living room brought dark by the late time. The clock sitting where the ancient TV had once found a home reads nearly ten in the evening.

Lights burn and flicker before they settle when I flip the switches. David is clanking around in the kitchen, and only a moment later the coffee machine is gurgling the brew. The scent is wonderful from where Lenora and I lean against each other on the couch, my head on her lap and her fingers twisting through my now knotted hair. She picks through the the tangles, humming a lullaby that sounds vaguely familiar.