Chapter twenty-three: Aster shared her plans for their new house with Kenneth James. Kenneth James had news of his own that he tried to share but Aster wasn't prepared to listen.
Chapter twenty-four
An owl hooted. Such a mournful, lonely sound.
Aster slipped off her dress and pulled on one of Kenneth James’ old t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. The scent of him comforted her. She climbed into bed. Her mind drifted away through time and place like the wind. Gaining direction from memory and longing, Aster dreamed that she was in her classroom.
“Class, does anyone know the answer?”
Hands reached for the ceiling.
Unable to suppress the joy of knowing, Devin bounced in his chair. “I do. I do. Please, call on me, Mrs. Stevens. I know the answer.”
She was so proud of her accomplishment. When everyone else had turned their back, she and she alone had refused to abandon him and now he had become one of her star pupils. She had reached him; she had taught him. She was his teacher.
A black cloud enveloped the scene.
“No, you weren’t.” Devin left his desk. “You didn’t teach me.”
A ray of light punched a hole in the cloud. It shone on the mirror the boy held in his hand and into Aster’s eyes—temporarily blinding her.
“You hurt me.” Devin held the mirror in front of Aster’s face. “You. Are. A. Monster.”
She couldn’t avoid looking at her reflection. Blood dripped from her razor-sharp teeth.
All of the students formed a ring around Aster. “You. Are. A. Monster.” They chanted. Their shoes stomped on the tile floor as the circle grew tighter and ever tighter.
“No! No! No!” Aster screamed. And she was a wake. But where was she?
A coffin of books...
Mayne Island?
She ran a hand over her husband’s side of the bed. It was cold. “Kenneth James? Are you there?”
No answer.
She climbed out of bed and pushed back the curtain.
He wasn’t in his reading chair or at his desk.
She filled the kettle with water from the tap. A question waited for her there. Why didn’t Kenneth James come home?
She plugged the kettle into the wall socket. It took forever to boil, but eventually, it gurgled and sputtered. She poured half a cup into the teapot, swirled it around, and dumped it into the sink. She hunted through the tin of tea bags.
Questions were scattered amongst those tea bags. What happened to him? Had he run out of gas on his way back from the bakery? Had he lost his way? Had he—?
A tall, muscular man—an uppercut to Kenneth James’ chin.
She found two tea bags labelled ‘English Breakfast’.
Had a wild animal attacked him?
A bear, a tree, and Kenneth James dangling from a top branch.
Was he stranded? Was he bleeding? Was he gasping for air in the middle of the sea?
She found the almond milk in the fridge, poured some into her cup, and added the tea.
Kathleen’s note was still on the paperback. Aster’s hand hovered over the note. In those numbers, she saw a way to solve the mystery. She should call Kathleen—but not yet.
She took a sip of tea.
Where was he?
Another sip.
When would he come home?
Another sip.
Why didn’t he call?
She drained the cup, washed it, and returned it to the cupboard.
“He must know that I’m worried. Why doesn’t he call?” She paced back and forth across the length of the cabin. Each time she passed Kenneth James’ desk, she stared at the note.
“If you think I’m worried...? If you think I care where you are...? Well, then...” She unfolded the note...
Dear Aster,
I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to... But I’ve met some
Aster stopped reading. She tore the note in half and in half again. She threw the pieces into the wood stove.
He found some...
She folded herself into his reading chair, knees to chest.
He’s left...
She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth.
No, he would never... He won’t...
She felt Kenneth James draw her into an embrace. She heard him whisper, I will never leave you. I will always love you.
Those words became her truth. Still, a question remained—where is Kenneth James?
