Caretaker, p.4
Caretaker, page 4
The table reserved for the morning coffee crew sat at the front of the café in the corner by the window. Toby was one of about ten regulars who had been coming there for years, filling the chairs at that table every morning like clockwork. On any given day, at least five of them would show up. On a good day, all of them. Most would sit there for hours, sipping coffee, getting refills, sipping more coffee, and talking about everything and nothing. But the few who weren’t yet retired would make their way to work after a quick catch up once the buses passed.
“That must have taken an act of God,” said Harold Powers. That brought a few chuckles.
“Nah, just an act of Kelly,” said Toby.
The chuckles turned to a roar of laughter. Lloyd made his way over to see what all the fuss was about.
“Pull up a chair, Lloyd. We’re just chatting about Farr Hill,” said Harold.
“What do you know about the new family who moved in?” asked Wayne Lewis, the youngest member of the group. He was one of only two who still had school-age children.
Lloyd was cautious about what he contributed to conversations or rumblings around town. After all, his business was built on being a place where people could come and just be themselves. Besides, gossip wasn’t in his DNA.
“A family from Boston. Mom and dad, two kids,” he said nonchalantly, signaling that was the extent of what he knew.
“Anyone want to place bets on how long they stay?” asked Harold. This sparked another round of roaring laughter.
“Maybe this time it will be different,” offered Lloyd. “Maybe Farr Hill is just what this family has been looking for.” He smiled at the group. “Who needs another cup?”
Several people pushed their cups forward, signaling an agreeable yes to another cup, while Wayne got up from the table.
“It’s about that time. I better get to it,” said Wayne.
As he walked out the door, Lloyd’s attention turned from pouring more coffee to the woman coming through the door. He hadn’t seen her before. Chances were none of the regulars had either.
Dave Cristian, the white-haired, Santa-bearded longest standing member of the morning coffee crew, with his mouth full of day old and slightly crunchy coffee cake, pointed not too discretely, and mouthed to Lloyd, “Who’s that?”
Lloyd shrugged and made his way to the front counter.
“What suits you?” he asked as he slipped in behind the display case.
“Hi, I’m not really looking for coffee today … I’m looking for the hardware store. I’m new to the area.”
The woman offered a pleasant, if somewhat embarrassed smile and Lloyd returned a sincere one.
“If you go left from here, then take another left at Meadows, you’re almost there.” Lloyd wondered if this might be the mom who moved into Farr Hill. If so, that would be quite the coincidence. “It’s no more than a ten-minute walk or a two-minute drive.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She eyed the pastries in the display case. “Those look delicious,” she said.
“Made fresh daily,” said Lloyd. Someone in the coffee group stifled a laugh. “Mostly anyway,” Lloyd added, offering a scowl to the peanut gallery. “You said you’re new to the area. Where are you from?”
“My family just moved here from Boston.” She extended her hand. “I’m Lyana Keane.”
Lloyd put down the pot of coffee he was still holding and wiped his hand on his apron, then extended it. “Lloyd Warner. I own this joint,” he said with a smile.
“Nice to meet you, Lloyd.” She smiled. “I’ll definitely have to come back soon for one of those fresh daily, mostly anyway, pastries.”
This made Lloyd’s smile even bigger. He liked this newcomer.
“Please do. We also serve up a mean breakfast.”
“Gotta love a mean breakfast. I’ll be back. Thanks again!”
She opened the door, triggering the bell, then headed left outside the shop. When she finally disappeared from view, Toby called Lloyd over to the table.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“Looks like that is Lyana Keane from Boston.”
“The Goodpasture house?”
“Seems so.”
Lloyd went back to wiping the counter and cleaning up from the breakfast rush. The regulars returned to their conversation, chatting away about whatever it was that captured their interest. That subject, unsurprisingly, was the new family at Farr Hill.
“I wonder if they have met him yet.” Jim prodded. He was looking right at Lloyd, probably hoping he knew.
Lloyd opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it. When no one offered an answer, the conversation was quickly displaced by talk about the new high school football coach.
Lloyd wasn’t thinking about the coach. He was still pondering Jim’s question.
Eight
As Ian pulled into the garage, having spent the last several minutes listening to Zach and Ariel recount their first day at school, he decided to offer a gentle warning.
“Your mother has been at it again,” he said.
Ariel and Zach’s smiles disappeared in unison.
“What do you mean?” asked Zach, concern obvious in his voice.
“No, it’s not … I mean, it’s not a bad thing. She’s just … on a mission.”
Ariel huffed. “What is it this time? Arranging books by the color of their spine?”
“No,” said Ian, though he wouldn’t put it past Lyana, considering the unexpected nature of her recent behavior.
The kids didn’t wait for further explanation. Even before the car was put in park, curiosity got the best of them and they threw open the doors and ran into the house to see what was going on. Ian followed close behind.
“Mom?” Zach said, both a statement and a question. She turned to look up at Ian, then the kids, who stood there wide-eyed, staring at the torn-apart pantry, at their mother wearing old clothes and holding a paintbrush.
“Hey, guys! How was the first day of school?” Lyana swiped the back of her hand across her forehead, leaving a thin stripe of white paint behind.
“So … ?” Ariel began, then lifted her hands in a “what’s all this?” gesture.
“I’m renovating the pantry. I got inspired this morning. Something just came over me and I wanted to get started right away. It’s a little hard to explain, but let’s just say it’s time for a change.”
The two kids chimed in with a hesitant, “Umm … okay then.”
“Told you she’s been busy,” said Ian. He wondered if they were going to ask more questions, but hunger pangs outweighed their curiosity as they searched for snacks through the food that should have been in the pantry but was stacked on the counter. Not a moment later, they found what they were looking for and scooted off to head upstairs to their rooms.
“All good?” Ian had spent much of the day watching Lyana fervently rush around looking for supplies. He was glad she had found something to be excited about but recognized the signs. This was clearly another manic episode. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something sinister was driving her sudden “inspiration” this time.
“I am so excited. This is going to be amazing,” she said. She turned to look at the pantry. It wasn’t anywhere close to amazing yet, but once Lyana put her mind to something, there was no stopping her. She had always been single-minded about tasks. Usually, that was a gift–she got things done, and efficiently. This time, Ian wasn’t so sure.
He considered saying something about the paint on her face, then stopped. She wouldn’t care anyway, at least not until she had finished the day’s work. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said instead.
“I will.”
“I’m going to see if Zach wants to go exploring outside.”
“Okay,” Lyana responded without turning around. “Have fun.”
Ian watched her for a minute before leaving the kitchen. She was intensely focused on her task but didn’t seem stressed or troubled by it. With every stroke of her paintbrush, she settled into a calming rhythm.
He shrugged. Maybe this was just what it looked like—a simple home improvement project.
Ian wanted to believe that, but his gut told him it wasn’t so simple.
Nine
Not realizing just how vast their new property was, the father and son duo lost track of time exploring outside.
As the minutes turned into hours, Ian noticed a haze lingering at the edge of the trees, much like that first day they came to see the house.
“Dad, did you know that fog consists of tiny water droplets and ice crystals suspended in the air near the Earth’s surface?” Ian’s attention turned from the layer of fog to Zach’s explanation of it. “It is like a cloud touching the ground. There are four different types.”
Ian was impressed that Zach knew so much about fog, but he wasn’t surprised in the least. Zach was an information sponge.
“The foggiest city in the world is actually New Orleans,” he continued. “And did you know fog has played a part in many historic battles, too?”
“No, I didn’t know that. But … speaking of fog …” began Ian.
“Is this going to be one of those lame dad jokes?” Zach interrupted.
“No, no. Not this time.” Ian stopped walking and Zach nearly ran into him. “I was just going to say that my brain has been a little foggy ever since I got back from the last conference. I got something for you, as always.” Ian paused, watching Zach’s expression morph from confusion to curiosity, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a woven leather bracelet with a stone attached to it. Zach held out his hand and Ian dropped it into his eager fingers. Zach turned the bracelet over in his hands and looked closely at the stone.
“This is so cool!” he said, slipping the bracelet on his wrist. It was a little big, but Zach didn’t seem to mind. “What’s this symbol?” he asked, pointing to the image carved into the stone.
“That’s called an ouroboros,” said Ian.
“It looks like a snake eating its tail.” Zach traced the intricate circular image with his right index finger.
“That’s exactly what an ouroboros is,” said Ian.
“It’s like infinity,” said Zach, mesmerized by the gift. “I love it.”
They started walking again. Ian was pleased by how much Zach liked the gift. He always brought gifts to the kids after his trips. He welcomed the challenge of finding something unique to surprise them with every time.
After a rare moment of silence, Zach began posing questions about infinity. They both loved talking about impossible things and Zach was an expert at asking big questions. Just as Ian was about to respond to Zach, he tripped over something, lost his balance, and fell to the ground.
“I’m fine,” he said before Zach could express his concern. But Zach wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at the ground in front of him.
Ian stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees and followed Zach’s gaze.
“Dad what is that?” Zach asked.
The two began to remove the brush and leaves that had gathered on what, upon closer inspection, appeared to be a door. A door in the dirt.
It was a door, framed by crumbling concrete, but to what? A cellar? A shelter?
Ian was fascinated by the oversized, rusting hinges that were decorated with what looked like a Celtic symbol.
No, much earlier. Different culture. Maybe Sumerian?
He leaned in to explore further.
“Dad, help me with this.”
Ian looked at Zach, who was tugging at the door’s old iron handle. He stepped over and helped Zach pull on it. At first, the door didn’t budge, and Ian thought it might be sealed shut. But then it moved. They pulled harder and the door moved even more. It was heavy—much heavier than Ian would have guessed. With each attempt, Ian’s imagination ran wild with ideas of what might lurk beyond.
“Well, hello,” a voice said from behind them.
Startled, Ian and Zach dropped the door with a loud bang and turned in surprise.
Ian studied the man. He appeared to be in his fifties and stood about five feet, nine inches tall. The years had been kind to the stranger. He was neither overweight nor frail—probably an athlete in his younger days, thought Ian. His dark hair had begun to recede, and the greys showed ever so slightly through the remaining hair on his head and the unshaven scruff on his chin and jawline. He was unassuming, dressed in workman’s overalls and steel toe boots. His dark eyes, however, had a gripping intensity—they instantly pierced into Ian’s thoughts. Looking into them was like seeing the experiences of his life reflecting back at you. And yet there was a quiet confidence in his demeanor that eased Ian’s quickening heart.
“I’m Marshall,” the man said. Ian was trying to recall the name. “The Caretaker,” he added.
“That’s right. I completely forgot.” Ian had wondered, when they closed on the house, when they might run into the caretaker, but then had nearly forgotten about him in the time since.
Zach was squinting, carefully studying Marshall.
“I’m Ian Keene. And this is my son, Zach.”
Zach continued to stare at the man, not unkindly, but wearing a curious expression.
Marshall nodded. “Are you fellas a bit lost?”
Ian shook his head. “We were just out getting a feel for the property. This is an amazing place.”
Zach interrupted his dad with a list of burning questions. “Have you been here long? What is this door all about? Did you know the previous family that lived here? Do you have any kids? Have you …”
“Whoa, bud, slow down!”
Marshall’s expression didn’t change. Ian couldn’t tell if he was bothered or tickled by Zach’s curiosity. “I’ve been here as long as I can remember,” he replied. He didn’t bother to answer the other questions.
The light of day was starting to fade as the three stood at the mysterious door. Ian was about to press for more information about the door when Zach spoke up.
“Uh … Dad, we should get back.”
Ian recognized Zach’s tone. It wasn’t one of fearfulness—Marshall seemed like a harmless enough man—but one of slowly building anxiety. The sky was darkening, after all. Their explorations had simply left them without a concept of time.
Marshall nodded, looked over at Zach. “You two really should hurry along before …” He froze. It was almost as if he’d seen a ghost. The sudden change in Marshall’s demeanor unnerved Ian, but it was short-lived. Marshall continued, “Before it gets too dark. You wouldn’t want to get lost in this forest.” Marshall had positioned himself in front of the cellar door, a subtle signal that their explorations had come to an end for the day. “I’ll be happy to show you around the property another time.”
“We just might take you up on that,” said Ian. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Marshall. Come on, Zach.” Zach stared a beat longer at Marshall, then focused back the way they’d come.
As the two of them walked away, Zach glanced back toward Marshall.
“He’s already gone,” said Zach.
Ian turned to see that Zach was right. Marshall had left just as quickly as he had appeared.
Zach turned his focus back to his father. “Well, that was weird.”
“Yeah, you think?”
The two of them talked about meeting Marshall and laughed about how they had completely forgotten someone else lived on the property. They couldn’t believe how quickly time had passed during their adventures.
As they approached the house, Zach ran on ahead, clearly eager to share their adventure with his mother and show her his new bracelet. Ian walked in as Zach was excitedly talking about the door in the dirt.
Lyana stood up and swiped at her face, brushing the hair back from her eyes and smearing paint near her eyebrow. Her face and hands had more than a few splotches of paint now. She’d clearly been hard at work while they were away. Ariel came running down the stairs to see what all the commotion was about.
“You found what?” asked Lyana.
“Dad and I found an old cellar door in the woods, and then we met Marshall.”
“Marshall?”
The look on Lyana’s face told Ian that she had forgotten as well. He laughed and said with a smile, “The Caretaker!”
“Oh, of course! I’d forgotten about him.”
Lyana’s face suddenly went white. She looked over at the stove, then the refrigerator.
“I’m sorry, I totally lost track of time. I don’t have a dinner plan.”
Ian already had his phone out. “No worries. I just found a pizza place that looks promising,” he said.
Later, their appetites sated, Ian took in the scene before him at the kitchen table. Their stories had painted the house with joy. It practically glowed from the roars of laughter, the energy of its new residents bringing it to life again.
Still, two stray thoughts threatened to distract him from that joy. What had spooked Marshall? And why did the man seem familiar?
Ian shook the thoughts from his head. Surely it was nothing.
• • •
Marshall slipped amongst the trees to watch Ian and Zach head back to the house. When young Zach turned around to look for him, Marshall shook his head. This is an unexpected twist, he thought.
When the two finally disappeared into the distance, a sudden breeze picked up and swirled the leaves into a ground tornado, conveniently covering the cellar door once again. Marshall glanced up into the trees and shook his head again, allowing a half-smile creeping onto his face.
A few moments later,a puzzled Marshall walked through the front door of his rustic cabin, closing the creaking door behind him. The late evening sun trickled in through the singular window, painting the wooden floor in patches of fading amber light. Marshall went to the bookshelf and scanned it, making sure everything was in its place. It was, and that confounded Marshall even more.
