Page 88 of Keeper
“No!” Poppy exclaims, her hand covering her mouth.
Squinting out again, I reply, “Christ, I think it’s the same one from when we were kids.”
“How is that possible?” Poppy shrieks in a whisper. “He was old even then!”
The two of us giggle and fumble to get ourselves decent. Poppy fixing her dress, me fixing my erection. We make our way out, and I see all the lanterns have already burned out. I assume the old man must have seen the light from the playhouse.
When we walk over to stand in front of him, we must look the picture of guilty because the short, chubby old man blasts his torch in our faces and barks out, “Where the hell did this building come from?”
I squint against the light and hold up my lantern to get a proper look at him. It really is him. The same short, paunchy old git who busted us in the park after hours when we were kids. His hair is white now instead of grey, but he looks as grumpy as he did back then.
“I built it,” I reply, holding my hand up to block his light.
“This park is owned by the council. You don’t have the clearance to build anything out here.” I wince at that little tidbit I never considered, but he’s not done. “Who are you and where do you live?”
Scrunching up my face in shame, I reply, “I’m Booker Harris. My dad is Vaughn Harris. He’s one of the homeowners whose property backs up to this park.
“Oh, bollocks,” he growls. “You’re not a Harris.”
Frowning, I reply, “I assure you, I am.”
“All right, take me to the Harris house then. We’ll see whom you belong to.” He makes a gross throat clearing noise as he flicks his light away from us.
Shaking my head, I reach over and wrap my arm around Poppy. This is certainly not the way I expected our night to end. I lead us on the path toward the back of my dad’s property. The park warden shines his torch on our backs as we trudge through the trees.
Poppy whispers in my ear, “I feel like I’m twelve all over again.”
Smiling, I whisper back, “Me, too. Blue balls and all.”
She pokes me in the ribs as we reach the back gate. I open it and we make our way through the garden toward the kitchen entrance. I can see my family sitting down at the table, preparing to eat. Vi is the first to notice us and gestures for everyone to look.God, we must look like naughty children.
I open the door and Poppy scampers in, avoiding everyone’s eyes on us. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks as awkward as I feel as she stands by the wall.
My father stands abruptly, his grey eyes narrowing on the sight before him. “Dad, you may remember the park warden,” I grimace. “He, erm…doesn’t believe I’m a Harris.”
Dad scoffs, “This is my youngest, Booker Harris, and I’m Vaughn Harris, owner of this home. What’s going on here?”
The warden’s cheeks flame red with embarrassment, but he maintains his stance as he replies, “Well, I caught these two being indecent in the woods after hours, inside some sort of structure. The park is owned by the council. Unless he had a permit to build, which I’m certain he didn’t, that structure has to be taken down.”
Dad lets out a haughty laugh. “Are you referring to the playhouse my boys spent the last two days building around the clock?”
“That’s the one,” the warden nods. “It’s an unapproved structure and it must be disposed of.”
“Well, we’ll call it a donation to the park,” Dad retorts.
The warden shakes his head. “That’s not how it works, Mr. Harris. The council has rules about unapproved structures. There will be a fine, and it’s going to have to be taken down immediately.”
My heart sinks, but Dad doesn’t seem the least bit put off. “I’ll talk to the council myself.”
The growly man looks around the room at everyone and huffs, “You Harrises still have absolutely no respect for the law.”
“We have the utmost respect for that park,” Tanner dejects. “That dead tree had been out there for years and the council never once saw it fit to remove it.”
“Yeah,” Camden adds. “It was a safety hazard, and we took care of it and beautified the area with it.”
“We’ll handle the fees and then some,” Gareth’s voice booms. “Surely the council wouldn’t resist a monetary donation.”
Hearing my brothers stand up for me has me finding my voice as well. “And surely other families that frequent the park would enjoy that playhouse.”
