Page 28 of Keepsake
Mrs. Shipley flipped a page in her notebook and bit her lip. “Last week we brought home two hundred and fourteen dollars. And that was agoodweek.”
“But we havefriendsin Royalton,” Daphne Shipley said quietly.
“We also have two more college tuitions to pay,” her mother countered, closing the ledger book. “I’m convinced. Sorry, Royalton. We just can’t fit you in.” She smiled at me, her expression so gracious that I stopped worrying that I’d intruded on decisions that were none of my business.
Griffin threw his hands into the air. “Thank you, arithmetic.”
“Naw,” Kieran said. “Thank you Lark’s big-ass brain.”
I passed the pad back to Griffin. “I think Kieran just said my ass looks big.”
Everyone laughed, and I thanked the heavens for the hundredth time that I’d come to Vermont for apple season.
7
Lark
Nightmares don’t haveany respect for a person’s dignity. Just when I’d decided Vermont was my salvation, I had another awful night.
Before Guatemala, I’d viewed dreaming as a passive exercise, like watching a movie in my mind. But now my worst nightmares were more like a wrestling match.
They usually began as an ordinary dream. Boring, even. This time I dreamt of the farmers’ market. In the dream I left our stall and walked around, admiring the piles of vegetables and the homemade jams. I avoided a particular corner of the market, though. My sleeping brain knew I shouldn’t go there.
But the place tricked me. I became turned around at a pumpkin vendor’s stall. And suddenly I was in a dark, dusty place. My heart began to thump inside my chest as I spun around, looking for the exit.
A hand grabbed me and yanked my wrist, dragging me further into the darkness.
I don’t want to have this dream again, I said to myself. I opened my eyes to find the walls of the Shipley guest room, right where they were supposed to be.
When I closed them again, my subconscious pounced.
I knew I was thrashing around in bed, trying to shake off the dream. But no matter which way I turned, my captors always found me again. Shouting at them to let me go didn’t break the dream’s grip on me, either. And through it all, I knew I was sleeping, but that didn’t make things better. The scene cut to the cramped little place where I’d been held, and I couldn’t escape.
And then a warm hand landed on my shoulder blade. “Shh, Lark. You’re dreaming again.”
I know.
The hand lingered a moment, grounding me. My breathing evened out, and I forgot to look into the shadows. But when the comforting pressure disappeared, the darkness of the shack found me again.
Then I spotted Oscar’s face, watching from the doorway, looking worried. Looking doomed.
I cried out again, and the hand returned to my back. “Shh,” it said. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s okay.”
And it was, for a little while. But that night I couldn’t break free of the shadows for a long time. They tangled with me on and off for hours, until I finally pushed through the shimmering surface of my sleep state and broke free.
I heard myself let out a sweaty, startled gasp.
“Shh…” a voice slurred. Someone’s hand was pressed reassuringly against my back.
I turned my head slowly. I took in a broad shoulder jutting up from the mattress. It was Zachariah again. He lay sprawled on the far edge of my bed, one arm tucked awkwardly under his dozing head, the other stretched out to soothe me. He looked a little uncomfortable. But he also looked asleep.
Guiltily, I rolled toward the wall again. But then I leaned back a few millimeters to enhance the contact between his palm and my spine.Everything is fine, I told herself.Safest place in the world. For some reason this thought made my eyes feel hot. It was almost unbearable how well I’d been treated these past few days.
Even the safest place in the world felt more elusive after you’d visited some of the ugliest ones.
I studied the quality of the darkness around the window curtains, and decided that it was still the middle of the night. It was time to shove away all my sad thoughts and get a little more sleep. If the dark crescents below my eyes grew any darker, I’d have to explain herself to May.
I closed my eyes again and concentrated on the feel of Zach’s hand against my back. I emptied my mind of everything except for that simple thing—the warmth of another living person’s touch. Leaning into it, I began to drift…
