Grandmother’s Gift by guest author Paty Jager

Our final guest author is the talented western and mystery author, Paty Jager, with her gifted short story. Enjoy!

***

Catch a dream and hold it in your heart.

***

 Shandra Higheagle stirred her cup of tea and reread the letter written in her grandmother’s scrawling penmanship requesting Shandra attend the drum ceremony after her funeral. Shandra knew nothing of the drum ceremony her grandmother requested she attend. For that matter she knew little of her grandmother other than she was a Nez Perce elder, grieved her son as much as Shandra grieved her deceased father, and Ella, Grandmother, had touched Shandra in a way she didn’t understand as a teenager twenty years ago.

Memories of that summer emerged as Shandra thought of her grandmother.

Shandra had been angry with her mother and stepfather. They’d chosen to take a month long summer vacation and leave her home with the housekeeper and ranch hands.

Shandra had other ideas.

After her parents left, Shandra asked for a ride to Missoula from a ranch hand. There she boarded a bus to take her to Brewster, Washington. From there she’d hitchhike to the Colville Indian Reservation where her grandmother and aunt lived. With forty dollars in her pocket and a backpack carrying her music, art supplies, and two pair of clothes, she’d stepped out of the bus at the station in Brewster.

A woman with a gray braid tucked into a beaded bun wrap, weathered skin, and wearing moccasins, jeans, a white blouse, and silver earrings and necklace walked up to Shandra.

“Welcome, Shandra. I am your grandmother.” The woman extended her hand and smiled.

“How do you know who I am and that I was arriving?” Shandra knew by the woman’s features she was her grandmother. She only had one photo of her father and his family. Over the years she’d spent countless hours staring at the photo and then herself in the mirror, trying to learn more about her side of the family that her mother and stepfather refused to acknowledge.

Grandmother, or Ella as her grandmother told her was the word for grandmother in Nez Perce, smiled and said softly. “When a bird returns to the nest, the mama bird knows.” She motioned. “Come we must return by dinner time.”

Shandra fell in step beside her grandmother, taking furtive side-long glances at her. She walked straight and tall with an assurance Shandra remembered in her father.

“Really. How did you know I was here?  I didn’t tell anyone I was coming to see you.” Shandra thought hard. She’d told no one and had caught a ride to Missoula after telling the housekeeper she was spending the night with a friend.

“But you dreamed. Your dreams go into the air and anyone who knows how to look can find them.” Ella stopped at the driver side of an old, faded green pickup. 

Shandra stared at her grandmother. “You didn’t know I was coming from my dreams. I don’t dream.” The comment was partially true. She didn’t know if it was because she’d had a dream about losing her father before he died or because she didn’t sleep soundly enough, but she rarely had dreams.

Ella slid in behind the steering wheel and motioned for Shandra to climb in. “You do not have to be asleep to dream. Many dream of their futures as they walk down the street or sit outside staring at the stars.” The vehicle revved, and they shot away from the curb.

Shandra clutched the door handle as Ella punched the pickup into the traffic. Luckily, they soon turned off the busy road, traveling over gravel roads. The pickup rattled and clanged making conversation hard. Shandra didn’t feel like yelling to be heard. She pulled out her CD player and stared at the scenery. They drove through country covered with sagebrush and juniper. The two plants her stepfather hated most. He paid good money to make sure not a sagebrush or juniper grew on his Montana cattle ranch.

They traveled for two hours over gravel roads, passing through woods and finally other than an occasional building, she spied what looked like a town.

“That’s the Trading Post store and gas station.” Ella pointed to a long building with gas pumps in front of it. “Over there is the agency buildings. That grassy area on the left is where we hold powwows once a year.”

 Shandra had known coming to the reservation would be different from what she was used to, at the moment fear had started to override the anger she’d used to get her this far. She instinctively knew her grandmother wouldn’t hurt her or let anyone hurt her, but that didn’t stop the swelling of unease that she shouldn’t have come.

They entered what appeared to be a small town. Ella waved to several people. The men had braids, the women wore long skirts. Little kids ran around the dirt and weed yards.

“This is Nespelem. Your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather are buried here,” Ella said.

“What about my great-grandmother? Isn’t she buried here?” Not that she wanted to know, but she didn’t like how Ella only referred to the men. In her short thirteen years, Shandra had yet to run into a male who warranted special treatment.

“Your great-grandmother is buried alongside your great-grandfather. She would be pleased you have come to visit.” Ella swung off the main road through town and guided the pickup down a bumpy gravel road.  “Your Aunt Josephine is excited to see you. The last time we saw you, you were very small.”

The pickup veered down a road. After fifteen minutes of bumping slowly over ruts through the pine trees Shandra saw a large barn with corrals and a small two story farmhouse.

“This is the ranch where your grandfather and father spoke to horses. They trained many and we still breed good stock today.” Ella stopped the pickup beside the house. Three large dogs came bounding around the side of the house. Ella talked to them in a language Shandra didn’t know and all three dogs stopped and sat, waiting.

“What did you say?” Shandra patted each dog on the head as she and Ella walked by.

“I told them to show respect. If you show an animal respect, they will give it to you in return. Same with people.” Ella opened the back door of the house.

 Wonderful smells circled Shandra’s head. On the trip she’d only purchased junk food and water. It was another way to rebel against being left at home. At least that was her way of thinking.

A younger version of Ella stood in the middle of the kitchen. Her face glowed with good humor and steam from cooking. “Welcome! I’m your Aunt Jo.” She wrapped her arms around Shandra and hugged. Her stomach was round and hard. Her aunt was pregnant.

Shandra stood still, her arms at her sides. She didn’t know this woman. They might be family, but it was a family Shandra knew nothing about. She didn’t even hug the family she knew.

“Shandra is hungry and tired,” Ella said, motioning for her to sit at the table.

Shandra looped her backpack over the back of a chair and sat. Aunt Jo set bowls and platters of food on the table. Shandra noticed the table was set for four.

Within minutes, stomping at the back door ushered in a tall, broad-shouldered man. He had dark braids hanging down the front of his chest, a big smile, and friendly dark brown eyes.  

“This is my husband, Martin Elwood.” Aunt Jo’s eyes shone like stars as she looked at her husband.  “Martin, this is our niece, Shandra.”

Her uncle held out his hand. “Welcome. What brings you out for a visit?”

Shandra shook his hand and stared at her grandmother. Never one for lies or tales she said, “Mother and Adam left for a month, and I didn’t want to stay at home with the housekeeper.”

Ella smiled. “I’m glad you came to visit.”

Shandra had expected questions and reprimands for heading out on her own. Instead they started passing the food and talking about their day and the horses that were yet to foal.

After dinner, Ella led Shandra upstairs to a room at the end of the hall. “This was your father’s room. It will now be yours whenever you visit.” She opened the door and Shandra slowly walked into the room. Belt buckles, photos of her father holding up a trophy, and two pairs of silver spurs shined on the small bookcase beside the bed. “It is time you discover your father again.” Ella turned to leave.

“Wait.” Shandra’s heart raced in her chest. She didn’t want to sleep in her father’s room. “Can’t I have another room?” she asked.

Ella peered into her eyes. “Your father’s story never finished. You are part of that story. There is no other room you can sleep in.”

Shandra wasn’t sure what her grandmother was telling her, but she wasn’t as scared about staying in the room. “Okay.”

Crossing the room, Ella stopped at the head of the bed and tapped a circle with what looked like a spider web in the middle. A feather hung down from the circle. “This will catch the dreams and only allow the good dreams to slip down the feather and into your head. Sweet dreams.”

Ella grasped Shandra’s hand as she passed and muttered words in what Shandra now realized were Nez Perce.

Shandra spent the next hour reading all the inscriptions on her father’s things. Her eyelids lowered, and she could no longer stay wake. Leaving the bedside light on, she slipped between the covers and immediately fell asleep.

  Dreams of her father floated through her head. He held her on a horse, played with her, and teased. She was small, but she understood his love for her and his joy to show her everything around her.

Knocking woke her.

“Time to wake. There’s work to do.” Ella’s voice carried into the room and soft footsteps moved down the hall.

Shandra stretched and felt rested. Her dreams remained fresh in her mind. All the faint memories of her father were bright and reminded Shandra he’d loved her.

Downstairs she ate breakfast of eggs and toast. Uncle Martin headed out to do the chores. Aunt Jo cleaned up the dishes, and Ella motioned for Shandra to follow her outside.

Her grandmother walked slowly toward the barn. “We raise good horses. Many people come to us for trained horses.”

“Who trains them? Uncle Martin?” Shandra said.

“We all work with the horses. It makes them more accepting of who buys them. You will help us while you’re here. I feel you are like your father. A horse talker.” Ella opened the barn door. There were stalls on one side of the barn. A couple of heads poked over the stall gates. “These fillies are expecting their first foals. Martin is keeping an eye on them.” Grandmother petted each on their noses.

Shandra reached out, allowing them to sniff her, then pet their soft noses. “Will they have their foals while I’m here?” She’d never witnessed a foal being born, only calves.

“I believe Fancy, this one—” Ella stopped at the last stall “—is ready.”

The mare stared at Shandra. Her big, brown eyes peered into hers. There was a slight dullness to the mare’s eyes. “She’s in pain,” Shandra said.

Ella smiled, nodded. “You are to stay with Fancy today and help her.”

Shandra stared at her grandmother. “I don’t know anything about a horse having a baby.” Her hands shook thinking about what could go wrong.

“Stay with her. Ease her stress. Martin and I will check in on the two of you often. If she begins birthing, come get me or your uncle.” Ella motioned to the gate. “You can go in. Fancy is gentle and only wishes company.”

Shandra unlatched the gate and walked in. Fancy was a bay appaloosa with a well-defined white blanket and large black spots on her rump.

“Fancy, I see you’re in pain.” Shandra stroked the horse’s neck and whispered the story of how she came to be in the stall. She spent several hours talking to, petting, and brushing the horse. The longer she remained with the horse, she understood the animal’s actions. When the mare hurt she needed reassurance.

Fancy lay down and curled her neck, looking at her tail.

“I’ll get Ella.” Shandra climbed the stall gate and ran to the house.

“Ella! Ella! Come she’s in pain and the foal is coming.” Shandra found Grandmother sitting in a small room beading a round circle.

She calmly set her needle and the circle down, then put a lid on the tray of beads.

“Come! She’s in pain!” Shandra wanted to get back to Fancy.

“I’m coming. Always put things away. You do not know when you may get back to it.” Grandmother stood and headed to the door. Shandra wanted to run back to the barn, but Grandmother stopped at the kitchen. She filled a bucket with warm water.

“Carry this.”

Shandra grabbed the handle of the bucket and headed to the barn. At the stall, she looked back. Grandmother was strolling along with a leather bag that looked like a shoulder purse in her hands.

“What is that? Are you going to town for a vet?” Shandra asked, unlatching the gate.

“No. This satchel has medicine to ease her pain and help with the birth.” Grandmother stepped into the stall. She said more words Shandra didn’t understand while sprinkling herbs and powders into the bucket of water.

“Make her stand to drink this.” Grandmother walked to the gate and stood.

Shandra looked down at the horse and then at Ella. “She is more comfortable on the ground.”

Ella nodded. “But she needs to drink the water. Get her up.”

Placing her hands on the animal to get her attention, Shandra felt the animal tremble. “She’s scared.”

“She trusts you. Get her up and make her drink.”

Shandra curled her fingers around the halter on the animal. “Come on, Fancy. You need to drink the water. It will help.” Gently, she pulled on the halter. “Come on. You’ll feel better.” The horse stared into her eyes then stood. Her legs shook, but she put her muzzle in the bucket and drank the water.

Shandra stared at Grandmother. “She trusted me!”

“When you care about someone they will trust you.”

A loud bark and whimpers drew Shandra from the memory. Sheba wanted in. Crossing the room to let her large, furry sidekick into the house, Shandra smiled. Grandmother’s gift that summer had taught her if you respect you will be respected. She touched the round, beaded barrette in her hair. “Thank you, Ella for teaching me respect and to dream.”  

***

This story sets up how after her death, Shandra’s grandmother comes to her in dreams and helps her solve mysteries in the Shandra Higheagle Mystery Series.

Author bio. Award-winning author Paty Jager and her husband raise alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. She not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it. All Paty’s work has Western or Native American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters. Her penchant for research takes her on side trips that eventually turn into yet another story.

You can learn more about Paty at

her blog; Writing into the Sunset 

her website; http://www.patyjager.net 

Facebook; https://www.facebook.com/pages/Paty-Jager/132536633482029

Newsletter: Paty’s Prattle: http://eepurl.com/1CFgX

Paty’s Posse: https://www.facebook.com/groups/402519373168442/?ref=bookmarks

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1005334.Paty_Jager 

twitter  @patyjag. 

A Gift to Save the Earth by Eric Price and Scott Harpstrite

We finally present you with the conclusion to the co-written story Earth Camp from June.

“What’s the good of time-travel if you can’t change anything?--Joe Hill (Locke & Key)

Haley examined the time machine. Where could this have come from? I’ve never seen anything like it. If Lionel Kosta built it based on the one from the past, the one that destroyed the Earth, where did the original ship come from?

She kept going over what they were told during their first night in the tunnels.

“The original machine had oxidized so severely, it’s astonishing one of the time travelers managed to survive.” Lionel pointed at two spots on the side panels. “The metal is particularly thin here. She would have lost all oxygen for several minutes. It’s no wonder all she ever managed to say was, ‘We did it.’ I’m not even sure she’d have had the cognitive function to grasp what they had done.” Lionel tested the latching mechanism on the door. “But what I find most strange, the ozone remaining around the Earth couldn’t have oxidized it so much. My theory is the weapon they used must have had an oxidizing effect.”

And just like that first night, the story made sense, but she still had doubts.

----

After meeting the refugees and hearing Lionel’s explanation of the time machine and the time travelers’ attack on the past, Haley had yearned for knowledge. She started enquiring with Elizabeth. Together with Edmund and Aldrich, the four of them discussed the underground city’s history. Elizabeth began by telling them of the attack, and how the people of Earth found the time machine moments after the atmosphere shifted. They had watched it fall from high above Seattle. Weeks later, after the storms increased and the survivors were forced to take refuge in the city underground, they salvaged the time machine, and immediately began to study it. Elizabeth shared stories that lead into her childhood and then to her time as leader of the refugees. Her stories caught up the present with Lionel constructing a replicate and the refugee’s fortunate encounter with a previous scouting mission sent by the Solar Council. Although Elizabeth hadn’t outright said as much, Haley quickly realized the people of underground Seattle had one obsession, changing the past.

But learning what had happened didn’t answer her questions, so Haley sought out Lionel. She had hoped his scientific mind would allow more stimulating discussion. But while he knew more about engineering, physics, and time-travel theory than she could ever hope to understand, he seemed as single-minded as the other refugees. His sole goal was to build a new time machine and use it to learn more about the time travelers, and what they did, so they could be stopped.

For a while, Aldrich seemed the most open minded and willing to discuss ideas, but eventually Haley realized he was only humoring her...his mind also blindly bent on changing history.

“But where did it come from?” Haley repeated.

“You’re not thinking about it right. Not where, but when.”

She stood up to stretch her legs. Three days of this same argument. It’s like Aldrich is being stupid on purpose.

“Yes, I understand. It’s a time machine. It’s from the future.” Haley walked to the ship-like structure. “It makes sense just looking at it. The design is modern,” she ran a hand over the rusted metal, “yet it’s nearly a century old.”

He had held the same position during the whole debate, relaxing with his back against the tunnel wall, and holding a smug look on his face. “Exactly. That’s all–”

Haley continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “The when is easy. I want to know who built it, where they and it came from, and why is it here.”

Haley’s twin brother entered the cave. “Are you two still at it?”

Great, another person oblivious to the obvious.

Somehow, after talking with the others and hearing the same story over and over, Edmund quit questioning things. Now he had become the hardest to talk to.

“Edmund, the shuttle returns tomorrow. Are you sure we should help them?”

“Haley, we’ve talked about this.” He had a strange, sympathetic look in his eyes. “You don’t understand things they way these people do.”

“I do understand!” Her temper escaped through her voice. “I understand you haven’t thought this out.” She pointed towards Lionel’s project. “It’s a time machine. They plan to travel back and stop whoever attacked Earth.”

“Yes–”

Haley pressed on. “But all we have to go on is one story–almost a legend at this point. And whether it was from a lack of oxygen, or the displacement of time travel, or both, she was probably insane.”

“No one knows who we’re trying to stop. Or what exactly they did to destroy the atmosphere. I wish she could have told them more, but she didn’t.”

“Haley, we’ve all been over this many times.” Edmund looked tired. “Helping the refugees is the best plan.”

“But–”

This time, he cut her off. “And it’s what the Space Council wants. It’s what they’ve ordered.” His features solidified. “And therefore it’s what we’re going to do.”

A few days ago, he had been like her. But finding refugees; Isaac, Bianca, and Cygnus being killed; and Aldrich being part of a secret plan had somehow made him as single minded as everyone else. And perhaps because of their relationship, his easy dismissal of her hurt more.

“Dammit Edmund.” Her arms shook in anger. “We could request an extension. We have a time machine!”

This is still getting nowhere.

Haley’s frustration approached a breaking point. She spent the last few days turning over ideas. The refuges were about to use a time machine, but while trying to understand everything, she was running out of time. She stormed away, unwilling to listen to another lame reason why they had to use the machine now.

----

Haley found herself in the grass clearing. Ruined buildings encircled the field. The filtered sunlight showed their faded colors.

These must have been beautiful…they’re still beautiful. We don’t have anything this vibrant on the station. It’s all white and gray.

She scrambled along the sidewalks’ remnants: now an obstacle course of broken concrete, tree roots, and grass.

It didn’t take long for her to locate the clearing from a few nights before and the location where Isaac, Bianca, and Ignus had been killed.

As if in a trance, she made her way to their deathbed. Haley knelt down and ran her fingers over the top of the bloodstained blades of grass.

Overwhelming despair overtook her. The events of the last week raced through her mind. She balled her hands into fists and closed her eyes as tears ran down her cheeks.

Haley thought back to her training. The six campers had spent a year together. She had never become close with aside from Edmund, but she liked Isaac, Bianca, and Ignus. Everyone except Aldrich.

Aldrich. That bastard. He had known about the refugees and the time machine. He lied to all of them.

As focus returned, she decided to head back. While she had sat there in the grass, the sky changed. The sun, apparent even while hidden behind the aurora, had sunk below the horizon.

At the entrance to the building leading to the underground, Haley looked upward. With the sun gone, dancing lights filled the sky.

I’m out of time.

----

“Finally.” Frederick rubbed his back as he let the cart handle drop. “Moving this lunky thing isn’t easy. Why did we have to haul the machine to the shuttle?”

“You have to break the space/time barrier in space.” Lionel scratched at the scar where his left eye had once been. “If you were to create a time portal connecting an atmosphere to a vacuum, it would suck the atmosphere through the portal the whole time it’s open. The same is true with creating a portal from this Earth to the Earth of the past. This weakened atmosphere would pull the old, strong atmosphere through. The only safe way to create a portal will be from the vacuum of space now to the vacuum of space in the past.”

“I know all of that.” Frederick’s fatigue added an edge to his voice. “I want to know why we have to move the time machine instead of flying the shuttle to entrance of the underground.”

“The shuttle only has autopilot.” Aldrich handed him a water canteen. “It’ll land in the same place it dropped us off. Now drink fast.” Aldrich adjusted the display on the personal interface on his wrist to show the mission clock. “It should be any second now.”

They looked to the sky. A sudden burst of lightning spiderwebbed from horizon to horizon. The aurora’s colors enhanced in response. A bright object appeared in the center of the disturbance.

Was that what it looked like when we landed? No wonder the refugees knew we were here.

As the storm cleared, the shuttle plunged to the Earth. Haley heard a gasp from one of the refugees. He must think it’s going to crash...perhaps it would be better if it did. Within a meter of the ground, the shuttle came to a stable hover and extended its landing struts. For all of the excitement of planetfall, the shuttle landing looked as delicate as a rosebud in zero-G.

“It’s bio-coded for the three of us.” Aldrich called out as he ran forward. He pressed his hand against a panel along the side, and the whole back of the ship folded into pieces exposing an opening. “The Solar Council has sent some extra supplies. I’ll move them out of the way.” He motioned to Frederick and William. “You two start getting that in here.”

Lionel watched as the two young men lifted the time machine from the cart and carried it toward the back opening. “Careful boys. We’ve waited a long time for this.”

Haley rounded the corner of the shuttle for a better view, and noticed the horizon.

Perfect, a storm. There’s no way we can launch with that coming.

“Edmund, Elizabeth, look.” Haley pointed to the Western sky. Clouds over the ocean mixed with the lights and darkened to deep reds and black. “That storm looks bad. We’ll have to wait till it passes.”

“She’s right!” Aldrich emerged from the shuttle’s front hatch. 

He’s agreeing with me?

Haley noticed he had put on his a clean uniform. Does he really think being in uniform is important right now.

“The sensors show the storm is gonna be bad. But we can’t stay. We can’t risk leaving the shuttle on the ground durring a storm like that.”

Haley turned to Edmund. After a brief hesitation, he took off for the the shuttle. “He’s right. We have to take-off now.”

Dammit Edmund.

----

The control panel lit, and Elizabeth entered the space/time coordinates. “Exactly what Lionel Kosta told us. Frederick, double check my work.”

“It looks right.”

Haley examined the time machine like she had days ago. The same questions still haunted her. Where did the original time machine come from? Why did they attack in the first place?

“We’re entering the Earth’s outer atmosphere. The time portal should activate in sixty seconds.” William adjusted the viewscreen to show the green and purple electromagnetic storms.

Elizabeth stood at his side. “Think about it. If we’re successful, if we can stop the time travelers, the world may never know these storms.”

The hammer of a gun cocked. “And if I’m successful, the awesome power of the weapon the time travelers use will be mine. And the Solar Council will bend to my will.” Aldrich pressed the barrel of a gun against Elizabeth’s spine and handed another gun to William.

William backed into a corner where he could cover Haley and Frederick.

“Aldrich, what are you doing? I’m the leader of this mission. We’re not going to steal the weapon. We have to stop it.”

“No, Edmund, this gun makes me the leader of the mission.” Aldrich scoffed. “As highly as you’ve always scored on tests, you’ve really lacked in common sense.”

Aldrich typed new coordinates into the system.

Haley looked at the coordinates. She didn’t completely understand all of Lionel Kosta’s instructions, but something didn’t look right to her. “Aldrich, what are you planning to do?”

“I’ve placed our arrival as close to the Earth as I can, at the exact point where the time travelers will attack. We’ll intercept them before they use the weapon.”

Another glance at the coordinates and Haley understood the problem. “Aldrich, you can’t use those coordinates. You haven’t accounted for the earth’s revolution. We’ll materialize inside the Earth’s atmosphere.”

“I've been working on this plan for a year. You can’t trick me now.”

“Aldrich, listen! Change the coordinates or we will be the ones to destroy the Earth.”

Aldrich pointed the gun at Haley. “Fu–”

She lunged at him and drove her shoulder into his abdomen. They fell to the floor and the shock of her head hitting the surface sent a jolt down her spine.

Elizabeth stood in stunned silence. Her gaze shifting from the mass of Haley and Aldrich, to the control panel.

“William,” Aldrich gasped with what breath he could draw into his lungs. “Get...her...off...me.”

William reached for Haley, but hands closed around his neck and jerked him backward. Edmund kicked him in the ribs and turned on Aldrich.

“No, Edmund!” Haley drove an elbow into Aldrich’s side. “Forget about him. Disengage the time machine.”

Before Edmund could make it to the control panel, it lit up like a mini solar storm. The brilliant colors through the viewscreen changed from green and purple to pure white.

“Haley, what’s happening.” Elizabeth pointed to the thin sidewall of the time machine. “The machine is falling apart.”

Haley felt like she had run a marathon. Each gasp for breath made her want another. “It’s oxidizing. We’re pulling the past Earth’s atmosphere into our present. We did it. We did it. After all this time. It was us. The ones trying to save the planet destroyed it. We did it.”

****

Eric Price lives with his wife and two sons in northwest Iowa. He began publishing in 2008 when he started writing a quarterly column for a local newspaper. Later that same year he published his first work of fiction, a spooky children’s story called Ghost Bed and Ghoul Breakfast. Since then, he has written stories for children, young adults, and adults. Three of his science fiction stories have won honorable mention from the CrossTime Annual Science Fiction Contest. His first YA fantasy novel, Unveiling the Wizards’ Shroud, received the Children’s Literary Classics Seal of Approval and the Literary Classics Award for Best First Novel. His second novel, The Squire and the Slave Master, continues the Saga of the Wizards. It is scheduled for an August 4, 2015 release. Find him online at authorericprice.com, Twitter, Facebook, and Goodreads.

Scott Harpstrite is a scientist, rock climber, and writer. He grew up in central Illinois, often playing on his family's farm and in the nearby woods. His passion for exploration developed into a love of science, travel, and stories. Now working as a lab manager in St. Louis, Scott has co-authored over 15 peer-reviewed publications focused on diagnostic imaging and drug development. When not performing research or visiting new places, Scott writes both science and fantasy fiction.

The Gift of Silence

The man stood outside the store window, shifting from foot to foot. I’d have probably gone right by him, but as I passed he looked me straight in the face, sending a chill up my back. So, instead of walking away, I found a place in the shadows and watched him.

He wore a black golf shirt with a Nike swish. His black slacks were neatly pressed, but scuffs covered the toes of his dark shoes. As he paced in front of the store as if waiting for something or someone, his left foot dragged. Maybe that was where the scuffs came from. He kept pushing dark hair out of his eyes. A girl passed him by without so much as a glance. She wore the flip-flops and short shorts. He turned away from her. Why look me in the face and ignore this young girl with long flowing blond hair?

After an interminable twelve minutes, he entered the store. I crept to the side window to get a closer view. A saleslady approached with a big hopeful smile. He jerked away as if he might flee, but she persisted. Probably learned that in Sales 101.

Peering inside, I could make out the blurry image of the saleslady as she crouched down to open a box of shiny objects. When she bent, his hand slipped around and grabbed something. He pocketed it so fast I’d have missed it if I’d blinked. Gasping in surprise, I nearly collapsed into the window. So neat. So fast.

While I recovered from the shock of having witnessed a theft, the man exited the store. He hurried in the direction downtown. With his hands tucked in his pockets and his head lowered, he wove along the street between moms with kids, students with backpacks and cyclists. I followed closely behind. What did he plan to do with his ill-gotten gains?

My friends would ask me why didn’t I go inside the store and raise the alarm. What were you thinking, watching, witnessing and doing nothing? No wonder we pay so much money for our trinkets. Thieves get away with it and it’s all the fault of people like you.. Yes, my friend, Rose, would give me such a lecture. But, I never intended to tell Rose about this. Not if I could help it.

Instead, I raced down the street, avoiding other shoppers and site-seers with the sole purpose of finding out what this strange man was up to. My watch read two-fifteen. I had missed the coffee date with my cousin. She’d forgive me. I’ll make up an excuse about traffic or something equally lame. I couldn’t think about her now. I had to see where this man led me. My curious nature would never let me rest otherwise.

Moments later he entered the parking deck. He was going to his car. Darn! Once he got in a car, I’d lose him for sure. My car was parked here as well, but on the top level. His was probably on the first level. It was impossible to imagine we’d be parked close enough for me to follow him.

He entered the elevator. The light flashed up to level 4. I raced up the stairs like a madwoman. Huffing and puffing, I reached level 4 just as the elevator doors opened. I caught a glimpse of his black form walking over to a red Kia. I made a quick turn and hightailed up to the fifth level to retrieve my car. Then I plowed down to the exit, round and round, hoping, praying. Perfect. The red Kia was just in front of me, waiting to pay. The Universe was on my side.

Mr. Thief drove slowly, obeying all the traffic rules, making it easy for me to keep him in sight. Nonetheless, I stayed one car back, not wanting to risk him seeing me. Maybe he’d remember me from the street? A shiver ran through me. What would he do, this thief? Stop his car, jump out and murder me? Absurd.

The light changed. We moved down the road. Thoughts filled my head. Had the Universe wanted me to witness this travesty? Everything seemed to be falling into place. Don’t be stupid. Rose would say to me and tell me I’m being melodramatic.

We turned into the parking lot for the Hermitage Nursing Home. This made no sense. Why not a pawn shop? Didn’t thieves go to shady shops on busy street corners with flashing neon signs to hock their merchandise. Not to a nursing home. Maybe he worked here? Maybe he was some sort of klepto and couldn’t help himself? Maybe he had no intention of hocking the stolen article? He pulled into a parking place a few steps from the entrance. I chose one farther away. From my rearview mirror, I spied him getting out of the car.

Once I got inside, he’d disappeared. Several corridors went right and left. Which way?

I approached the information desk where a girl of about twenty had her head buried in a People magazine. Her eyes filled with wonder when she finally spotted me as if I’d fallen from the moon. “Can I help you?”

“The man who just came in. He dropped a five-dollar bill in the parking lot. I ran after him, but I missed him. Do you know where he might be?”

“Oh, that’s Jerome. He’s visiting his mom. Comes every day at least once. Want me to give it to him?”

I hesitated. She noticed. “Well… I guess it won’t hurt for you to go down to room 212. It’s the last room on the right, down that corridor.” She pointed the direction.

I moseyed away as if I had all the time in the world. Once out of her view, I picked up my pace. Muffled conversation came from room 212. Mr. Thief was talking very loudly. Apparently his mom had hearing issues.

At the door, I peered inside. Mr. Thief perched on the edge of the bed containing an attractive woman with cottony white hair.

“You shouldn’t have, Jerome. I know how much this place is costing you.”

“But, mom, it’s Christmas. I wanted to give you a little something.”

“Just having you here is enough. But, I do like bracelets. You know how I like bracelets. Remember when your dad gave me a diamond bracelet—of course, I didn’t know it wasn’t diamonds then. It wasn’t till later. Remember? After he died and left nothing but bills and debts. I tried to sell the bracelet and found out it was worthless. I flushed it down the commode.”

“I remember, Mom. You told me that story. I wanted you to have a real diamond bracelet before it was too late.”

She hugged him. “This is the best gift ever.”

I backed away from the room, my heart racing.

In my car I didn’t wait for Mr. Thief, a.k.a. Mr. Nice Son to emerge.  Instead I started my car and drove home.

***

Joan Curtis is the author the award-winning novel The Clock Strikes Midnight and the newly released mystery series e-Murderer. Take a look at the book trailer for The Clock Strikes Midnight.