The Shadows' Empress (Part 6)

For once in a very long time, Roland woke up much more peacefully than he’d slept. He didn’t open his eyes immediately. Instead, he laid in bed thinking about the dream he had last night. At first, the light coming through his windows shining through his eyelids made him feel safe. And then, he remembered what he’d discovered in the last few moments locked inside that office in the hotel. He made his best attempt at holding the tears back. When he finally lost the battle feeling the warm tears rolling down his cheeks, Roland felt something he hadn’t since he was about twelve years old: the feeling that he was being watched. Roland opened his eyes and stared up at his observer. It was his father, Jacob.

            “Oh, morning, Dad,” Roland said with a smile. “I had a feeling someone was watching me.”

            “Did ya?” Jacob raised an eyebrow. “How long were you awake?”

            “Just a couple of minutes.”

            “Did you have another bad dream, bud?”

            Roland froze for a second, “How did you know? Did I yell, again?”

            “Nope,” Jacob smiled, reach over to his son’s face. “What was so bad about it that it made you cry when you woke up?”

            Roland was taken aback. He had seen some variation of this question coming, and he still wasn’t ready for it. Possibly because he didn’t think he dad would ask it so soon. So, he lied.

            “I had a dream that some people broke into the house, dragged me out, and made me watch while they blew up the house with you and Scarlet and Spencer in it.”

            That’s obviously not what happened, but even the thought of that terrified Roland. Because of how intense that sounded, he began to wonder which was worse; the fake nightmare, or the real one.

            “Ah, yeah…that’s pretty messed up,” Jacob said, rubbing Roland’s lower right leg. “It’s a good thing that was just a dream.”

            “Yep…”

            “You hungry? I made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for breakfast.”

            “Uh, sure. I’ll be down in just a sec.”

            “Good,” Roland’s father said as he stood up. “Because someone needs to mow the lawn and I’ve got to get to work.”

            Roland stared at his dad for a few moments. “But, you work from home. I thought that’s why you wanted to be a writer?”

            “Yes, but I have a midnight deadline, and I nave to crank out the last thirty pages.”

            “Holy crap, Dad!”

            “I know, I know! This is why you don’t procrastinate. You end up like your old man!” Jacob said with a chuckle while walking into his office.

            Forcing himself out of bed, Roland went over to his dresser, and pulled out a pair of camouflage shorts and a black tank top, figuring it would be hot outside after he ate breakfast. It was always hot this early in the morning in central Texas. He decided he’d just take a shower when he was done with the lawn. He’d likely end up doing so anyway to rinse of the sweat.

            When Roland got downstairs, his sister, Scarlet, was already in the living room, watching cartoons. Roland sat next to his younger brother with his plate of food.

            “Why aren’t you done, yet?” he asked, tousling Spencer’s hair. “I thought you two were inseparable.”

            “I don’t wanna go in there,” Spencer said while he smoothed his messy blond hair.

            “Why not?” the older boy asked.

            Instead of answering, Spencer hopped off of his chair at the dining room table, and brought his empty plate to the sink, dropping it in. The small boy then ran upstairs with his stuffed animal held tightly in his arms, closing the door behind him.

            The irony was not lost on Roland when he couldn’t help but mutter, “You’re too young to be acting like a teenager. The older boy put his plate in the sink as well and went out to the backyard to get the lawnmower. Fortunately for Roland, it didn’t take him too long to get the rather large backyard squared away. He was proud of himself for finishing his chore in record time; fourteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds, according to his Smart Watch.

            Roland pushed the lawnmower to it’s resting place in the shed that his father had built. As the machine rolled into the small building, it hit a bump where the ground and floor at the entrance were not level. Jacob kept saying he was going to fix it, but he never did. Instead of making things difficult for himself, Roland pulled the lawnmower backwards and pushed the handlebar down to avoid the bump. However, the teen’s hands were sweaty enough for him to lose his grip and the heavier portion of the lawnmower that was painted bright red and covered in lawn trimmings slammed down onto the floor inside the shed. Just as Roland was hoping his dad hadn’t heard the noise a box fell from a shelf above the doors that he had forgotten existed, bouncing off of the machine, causing an even louder metal ting sound.

            Hoping he didn’t breaking anything important—the box and its contents, or the lawnmower—Roland pushed the mower into the far back of the shed thinking he’d pretend the weather caused it to break if it didn’t work next time. After that, he picked up the small, wooden box, turning it right-side-up. He’d never seen the box before. He could tell there was something in it, something heavy, by the sounds it made when Roland moved the box around. The only thing that seemed familiar about it were the markings. Instead of writing on it in Sharpie there were symbols.

            ‘They look like the ones on the map…’

            Roland’s heart started racing. There’s no way this could be happening! He wondered if his dad would know he took it, and just as quickly, decided he didn’t care. He was too excited about this situation to let this chance pass. He left the shed with his new package in tow and closed the door and locked it. Roland went back into his house, passed his sister still watching television, up the stairs. He stood at the top of the stairs. The room to his brother’s bedroom was closed as was the door to his father’s office.

            ‘Good…’

            Walking fast, with his heartbeat seemingly getting faster with each step, Roland made it into his room, closed the door, and slid the box under his bed, far enough that no one would ever see it.

            ‘Now to get the lock off.”