by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Chapter Two

Secrets Kept

Sara Karst slowly pulled her brightly painted beetle into Amanda’s driveway, stopping carefully behind a large, and rather well used panel truck. Shutting off her small cars engine she leaned over, gently shaking Amanda’s shoulder. “Your home” she whispered, waking her friend. “And your moms home too.”

“Great” Amanda groaned as she pulled herself upright with Sara’s help. “I’m toast, and she’s back early from another Estate sale. So what story do we use now?”

“We went to see The War Wagon again” Sara answered, having worked out the answer while driving. “Remember, you said you’d like to see it again. That ought to do it. It’s a long movie, with a lot of excitement.”

“Better than that adult movie, Curious Yellow, you dragged me too yesterday” Amanda agreed. “Weird movie. Look, I gotta clue you in...” She dug around in her purse, a huge bag-like object Sara swore you could hide a kitchen sink inside. Papers rustled and Amanda absently handed her a rolled up sheaf of paper as she dug. “Doc gave me pain pills. Narcotic. Ah...” Amanda held up a small bottle of green-yellow pills. “For when I can’t stand the pain.” Pushing her glasses up her nose again she carefully read the label. “Two, and I have to chew them for fastest effect. It’s a umm.. A morphine sulfate durative. Bet they taste bitter. If I need them, you know what to look for okay?”

Sara gently took the bottle from Amanda, opening its cap she noticed it was ‘child-proof.’ A bitter scent struck her nose as she sniffed the open container. “You win” she agreed. “Hang on a moment.” Digging into her own purse she came up with a little pen-knife. It was a moments work to ‘un-child-proof’ the plastic cap. “That’s better. If you need these I bet you won’t have the strength to force that cap in its original condition. Anything else I need to know?” she asked as she resealed the bottle.

“Yeah. Hallucinations. Doc says I’ll see weird things, pink simians, crawly slimy things. Stuff like that. If I’m awake when the last attack comes, then no amount of pills will block the pain. It’ll only last a few seconds, but...” Amanda shrugged, “Maybe I ought to oh-dee before then. I hate pain. He said that if I take four, with my health and body weight, this stuff will depress my breathing. I’ll just go to sleep and never wake up.”

“Gotcha Captain Jerk, I don’t like pain either.” Sara handed the bottle back, then Amanda’s scroll. “Another project for your mother?” she asked.

“Yeah” Amanda admitted. “Last one I think. It’s something she found in an old trunk she bought Tuesday, at another of her dumb estate sales. Its in Darst believe it or not. I’ve got the first two paragraphs worked out already. It looks like its some kind of spell.” She caught her friends reaction. “No, not a love spell you over imaginative girl. Some kind of gate, or summoning spell. Ought to bring mom a lot with the Pagan population, when I’m done.”

“I’m Pagan” Sara reminded her friend. “So if its really a spell..” She grinned, pushing the scroll into Amanda’s bag. “I’m pagan yes, but I don’t believe in magic. Not the kind they show in the movies or write in books. Stage magic is fun, but its just slight of hand. Misdirection. You’ll probably get more bids from those devil worshipers down on Flint Avenue than from any white-paths like me.” She opened her door, swinging her feet out as she exited the car. “Hang on and I’ll help you out.”

“Okay” Amanda agreed as she rearranged the old parchment in the dubious safety of her bag purse. It was followed quickly by everything else she’d pulled out just moments ago. “Sara” she asked. “Can you, like help me into my house? I can manage from there but well” she shrugged, “Honestly I’m too tired to walk, and I don’t want to scare mom.”

“Not a prob babe” Sara laughed, walking around her car to open Amanda’s door. “You know I just love to get my hands on that skinny little body of yours.” Reaching down she helped her friend up. Amanda’s silver-white fur contrasted sharply against the larger woman’s midnight black. Amanda, she noticed, was already slipping into a light sleep. Something she’d been doing more and more often lately, as her illness tore through her body, eating away at her limited reserves. Had Amanda been awake enough to notice, she would have realized Sara held her close for much longer than she needed too, then her car door slammed shut waking her, and they were heading towards Amanda’s front door.

“You look tired dear” Amanda’s mother commented when she met them at the door. With a nod to Sara she took her daughter into her arms. “Have a cola Sara, I’ll be right back” the older woman ordered as she carefully helped her daughter towards a small hall, and her bedroom beyond.

“Mom” Sara heard Amanda’s plaintive voice exclaim as they vanished. “‘m just tired is all.”

Once in Amanda’s bedroom Mrs. Almertain helped her daughter out of her clothing, having only a bit of trouble with the hip hugging jeans Amanda preferred now a-days. Years of practice made what should be a difficult job easy. “How was your day dear” she asked softly as she worked with her nearly sleeping daughter. “Catch any boys?”.

“Yuk Yuk” Amanda answered. “Got my pills refilled like you reminded me, then saw War Wagon again” she lied. “Got too excited I guess. Awful tired, didn’t want you to know. I know how much you worry about me.” She yawned again, her arms barely moving as her mother pulled back her bed’s covers. “Okay if I nap? Just a little while?”

“Certainly dear. You rest. We’ll have a nice dinner when your father gets home. Will you eat with us, or in your room?”

“I’d rather eat with you mom” Amanda decided as her feet slid under freshly cleaned, and she noticed, ironed sheets. “Don’t feel like it often enough. I ought to do it more.”

“That’s fine dear. I’ll set you a place then. Now you sleep, I’ll check on you in a little while.”

“Thanks mom. You’re the best.” Amanda formed a kiss with her lips before closing her eyes. Her mother waited until she was certain her daughter had really fallen asleep before she left the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Sara was waiting on the couch, a soft drink bottle in her hand, her feet crossed at the ankles. “Hello Mrs. Almertain” she whispered as her host returned.

“Patricia to you” Mrs Almertain reminded Sara as she settled beside her on the couch. “After all you’ve done, and don’t think you’ve fooled me as to the real reason why. What did Doctor Willibos tell her this time?”

“Maybe you should ask him” Sara admitted. “Its that bad.”

“Dear kind Doctor Willibos hasn’t told us anything since Amanda turned eighteen, and he won’t. Its that nasty Doctor Patient thing. Amanda’s legally an adult now. So you tell me.”

“Thirty days” Sara blurted, more pain in her voice than any person should feel. “Maybe forty five. But I don’t think so.”

“Thirty... days” Patricia Almertain repeated to herself. “My daughter. I’ll lose her that soon?”

“Mrs... Patricia. She was supposed to die when she was seventeen. She’s nineteen now. That’s two years longer than anyone could hope for.”

“True. And how long have you known that you love her?”

“About two... How did you know?” Sara asked, stunned.

“Honey. I’m an adult. Not to say I approve, but I don’t judge either. You’ve been nothing but her friend. I saw it coming before you did. It happens when two people are shoved as close together as you two have been. Two years you say? I’ve know almost three. It’s been the little things. Presents, small yes but your no richer than Amanda is. Things she liked, even those little pictures of yours. You’ve always been there when she needed you. Have you told her?”

“No” Sara admitted. “I don’t plan to either.” She took a quick drink of her cola, glancing towards the hall where Amanda’s bedroom lay.

“A bit of adult advice dear” Patricia warned. “Do both of you a favor. Tell her. Even if it’s the last thing you say while she can understand, tell her. Otherwise you’ll hate yourself forever, and she’ll never know someone really loved her. Other than her family I mean. Amanda’s never had anyone but family, and that poor boy who died in Vietnam, tell her they loved her you know.”

“But.. I’m...” Sara plucked at her fur. “She’d be insulted.”

“Ah, the race thing.” Patricia whispered in understanding. “Its not just that you’re a girl and Amanda’s not interested in girls. It’s the race thing.”

“Yeah. I don’t even belong in this neighborhood. Police stop me half the time I come here. You don’t know what they think I am. Why I’m here.”

“I can guess” Patricia admitted. “If they do again, give them my number. Have them call me. I’ll deal with Mister Blue-Belly.”

“Blue-Belly?” Sara asked, puzzlement in her voice.

“My dear sweet mother is pure blooded Apache” Patricia explained with pride. “Just because my father was a white-fur and my husband, the wonderful Mister Almertain, is a silver, doesn’t mean I’m not red-furred deep down. You’ve never wondered about my auburn colour?”

“I thought it was the Irish” Sara admitted

“Irish? None in my family Sara. Lets get back to our original topic, shall we? Your afraid of the race question. Would it help you to know my fathers people were slave owners? Your last name is Karst, that’s French or German right?”

“So I’m told” Sara admitted, staring down into her soda bottle. “Grandma told me once, her grand-father liked the word so when he got his freedom he took it as his last name. We’re really Tshokwe though. At least we know that much.”

“Its good to know your families past Sara, as much as you can. Karst is a geological area, worn limestone where you’ll find caverns. My husbands name means ‘Mountain Lake.’ I’d be proud to accept a bit of limestone into my lake, if you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Amanda would say no” Sara warned. “And after... After... I can’t come back can I?”

“You always going to be welcome in my home Sara Karst” Patricia answered. “Now, ten years from now, or when I’m on my deathbed. We share a love for my daughter Amanda, and that’s something that goes beyond family, beyond race, beyond life choice.” Reaching out Patricia took the younger woman’s hands in her own. “Amanda has always looked on you as a trusted friend. I just wish she knew how trusted she is, and how much you’ve given her without asking in return.”

“That’s life” Sara argued.

“No dear. That’s love. Now help me set the table. I think its time you were a guest again at dinner. Don’t you agree? After all, time is against us all. I’d rather you have as much of her time as you can. And Sara dear? Thanks for being our spy.”

“Spy” Sara laughed. “If my other friends heard that they’d think I was a Narc.”

“I’d rather your weren’t” Patricia whispered in a rough voice. “I’d have to do something about you then. I mean, that forty acres of weed in the back and all.”

Sara stood, glancing out the back window to a small patch of fenced in dusty ground the Almertain’s laughingly called ‘the back forty.’ Its fenced in area was less than four hundred square feet of sandy, rock strewn soil with nothing but a few struggling roses. “Looks about ready to harvest” she agreed, accepting the humor for what it was. Two women trying desperately to find a ray of light in a dark room.