10. Burying the Past
1020 Words
10
Burying the Past
The tent glowed in the early morning light. Jacob lay in bed, watching as the sun peered through the fabric and made each stitch a part of a beautiful pattern, which illuminated every piece of dust that drifted by.
He didn’t know how long he lay there watching the light change from grey to red to yellow. He could hear the soft thud of hooves, but it didn't make him want to get up. He wanted to hide someplace dark where no one could see him.
A bed creaked on the other side of the tent. He grabbed his clothes and dressed quickly. He was out of the tent before Emilia sat up.
Outside the tent, a small fire crackled. Food had been laid out on a table made from a roughly hewn tree. It wasn’t like any breakfast Jacob had ever seen―berries, leaves, and roasted squirrel. Aside from having been skinned, the squirrel was fairly intact. The sight of the browned flesh made Jacob’s stomach turn.
“Morning.”
He turned to find Emilia standing behind him. Her hair was a mess. She looked warm and soft from sleep. Jacob’s stomach began to purr. If he could hold her, just for a moment, hold her and keep her safe, maybe everything would be all right.
“Jacob,” Emilia said.
Jacob took two long steps to the side of the tent and slapped it with his palm. “Time to get up,” he called.
“Murph,” Claire muttered from the other side of the fabric.
“Come on, there’s food,” Jacob said.
“Coming,” Connor said sleepily.
“Jacob.” Emilia touched his shoulder.
He turned and looked into her eyes. He knew she could feel whatever he was feeling. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words and see the understanding in her grey eyes. He didn’t deserve understanding.
“Morning,” Claire said, yawning as Connor dragged her out of the tent. “I thought you said there was food.” She glared at the roasted squirrel.
“I bet it’s pretty good,” Jacob said, glad for the excuse to turn away from Emilia. He picked up the squirrel and bravely took a bite. “Not bad,” he tried to speak around the stringy, dry meat in his mouth.
Claire giggled as they each took the food that scared them the least and sat on stumps around the fire. The four lapsed into silence as they ate.
Emilia took a bite of squirrel before grimacing and pushing it onto Jacob’s plate. He smiled but couldn’t make himself laugh with the others.
“Are you all right?” Emilia asked.
“Yeah.” Jacob took a manly bite of his second squirrel.
“Is it something Loblolly said?” Claire asked, yanking Connor to sit on the ground in front of Jacob.
“I’m fine, Claire,” Jacob said, trying not to choke on the strange liquid that filled his cup. It tasted like grass. He was beginning to think centaurs had a very different standard for cuisine.
Claire stared into Jacob’s eyes, her childlike intuition peering into his soul. “Liar. Now fess up. What’s wrong?”
“Claire,” Connor said, shoving Claire’s head to the side, “leave him alone.”
“It’s fine.” Jacob pushed the food around on his plate. Somehow it felt easier to say it to someone other than Emilia. “I just…the ceremony last night. I realized I don’t know where Jim, my dad, is buried. Or if he’s buried. I was so busy being a wizard and trying to build a new life with all of you, I never bothered to find out.”
Jacob set his plate on the ground. There was a gaping hole where his stomach had been a moment ago. But somehow he wasn’t hungry anymore. He had been so caught up in trying to win Emilia, he had never bothered to give his father a proper funeral. “I’m an awful person. Jim wasn’t much of a father, but that’s no excuse for my being such a lousy son.”
Emilia put her hand over Jacob’s, and even that lightest of touches made his anger at himself begin to ease. He pulled his hand away.
“Jacob, we’ll find out where Jim is,” Emilia said.
“Ahem,” Claire coughed. “Jacob doesn’t need to worry about it. Everything’s fine.” Claire went back to eating her food with a guilty vengeance, gagging on the leaves she shoveled into her mouth.
“Claire,” Emilia said, “what do you know?”
“Don’t worry about it. Everything’s been taken care of,” Claire muttered, not looking up.
“What did you do?” Emilia asked in a tone that left no doubt she had been raised by Isadora Gray.
Claire glanced around at Jacob, Connor, and Emilia, her eyes dancing with an apparent desire to tell them whatever her secret was. “Promise that none of you will ever tell Aunt Iz or anyone else.” Claire waited a moment. “If you don’t promise, I can’t tell you.”
“Fine, Claire, we promise,” Emilia said, though the look in her eyes was still dangerous.
“Remember a few months ago when I got in trouble for hacking and got my computer privileges revoked?” Claire paused dramatically. “Well, I hacked into the computer at the coroner’s office where Jim Evans’s body was and had him transferred to Fairfield, New York, and buried in the cemetery that had the highest online rating.”
“Cemeteries have online ratings?” Connor’s freckled forehead wrinkled.
“Everything has an online rating,” Claire said quietly, staring at Jacob.
Jacob sat amazed―the void in his stomach had transformed itself into a stone in his throat. “Thanks, Claire. That was really great of you. And I can pay you back, I mean not right now, but I will.”
“Oh, I didn’t pay for anything,” Claire said, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across her face.
“Claire!” Emilia gasped. “What did you do?”
“Easy. I took a check from Dexter’s room”―Claire didn’t pause when Emilia flinched at his name―“made it out to Cash, and mailed it to the funeral home. Why would the bank of Wayland question a few thousand dollars spent by their treasure child?” Claire looked at the shocked faces around her. “In retrospect, can anyone here really be mad at me?”
Jacob stood and pulled Claire into a hug. “Thank you, Claire. You really are amazing.”
“Remind me never to let you near my money if I ever have any,” Connor laughed.
“Just stay on my good side, and you’ll be safe.” Claire winked.
- Writer
