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Chapter 10: Kate

“What do you mean he didn’t show up?” Alice asked as she set my dinner down in front of me with a clunk. I’d managed to dodge her that morning. Her Indiana Jones had brought his archeology campers to the deli for breakfast, much to my great relief, so I got away with simply saying “we’ll talk later.” Now, however, I was in for a drilling.

“Hey, watch my bagel!” I said jokingly as the top of my bagel slid toward the table.

“Sorry. He didn’t call or anything?”

“No, but it was weird…”

“Weird? What do you mean, weird?”

“Well,” I began, realizing how bad it made me sound. “I walked over to his house,” I said.  Alice raised an eyebrow at me. “I was mad, all right. I didn’t even know what I was going to say, but I was just so confused…and annoyed…but mostly confused. Anyway, I walked along the shore and through the woods to Juniper Lane, and I found his bag in the woods. It was soaking wet, like it sat out all night.

“Maybe he just forgot it?”

I shook my head. “He had his paint supplies inside.”

“Okay, that is weird.”

“When I got to his house, it was unlocked. His SUV was there. His house was dark. I drove by this morning, and his lights were still off. Maybe I should call the police.”

“Maybe he went out of town with friends. But why wouldn’t he lock up?”

I nodded. “Exactly. I don’t know what to do.”

The bell above the door rang. Tootie Row and her husband Milt came in, her husband promptly taking a seat by the front door while Tootie headed toward the counter where I was sitting.

“One sec,” Alice said then turned to Tootie. “All ready!” Alice lifted a massive bag full of bagels.

“Good girl. Did you pack the extra honey pecan spread?”

“Of course,” Alice replied as she started punching keys on her cash register.

“My relatives come in tomorrow morning. They always cry for your bagels, honey.”

“They have good taste,” Alice answered.

Tootie laughed as she dug into her purse for her wallet, but then she saw me sitting at the counter.

“Oh, Kate,” she said, gently setting her hand on my shoulder. “How is Cooper? I didn’t get a chance to go by. I’m just so busy preparing for my sister and her grandkids. What happened? Did they say?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh,” Tootie breathed in surprise. “You don’t know?”

Confused, I shook my head.

“Rose’s grandson, Scott, was out with some other boys at Frog Creek yesterday evening, and they found Cooper passed out in the woods! They called an ambulance to take him to Titus Medical. I thought for sure someone would let you know.”

I rose and picked up my purse. “No…I…I had no idea.” I felt like someone had poured ice water down my back. “I’ve got to go,” I told Alice.

She nodded. “Call me.”

“Wish him well for me,” Tootie said then turned to Alice. “You know that boy’s mother died of cancer. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

Her words rung in my ears as I thought about all those bottles of medicine sitting on the window sill. With my hands shaking, I rushed out of the deli. It had never even occurred to me that maybe something terrible had happened to him. He’d gotten sick. And I…I hadn’t been there for him.

I rushed down Main Street, turning onto Fence Post Lane which led to the public dock. I was planning to just jump onto the beach and rush home. I could make it to Titus Medical in twenty minutes if I hurried. I was surprised, however, when I turned the corner. At the end of the dock several TV crews had gathered around a man with curly red hair. He was holding something in his hands. I could hear a reporter asking him questions. Bright light glared on his face. Nearby, a group of college students—evident from their Chancellor College sweatshirts—stood watching in awe.

“There was anecdotal evidence, folklore, that the Native Americans inhabited the islands in Lake Erie, but physical evidence has been hard to come by…until now.”

“Why do you think these artifacts have been overlooked for so long?” a reporter asked as I moved toward the crowd, a sick feeling rocking my stomach.

“Mainly because it was small and covered in scrub. Archeological digs have been completed on other larger islands with limited success, mainly unearthing evidence of European use of the islands. While we’ve long-suspected we’d find artifacts on the smaller islands, we never expected anything of this scale. Earlier this spring, a fisherman discovered artifacts on the island’s bank. That got our attention. Since the college recently acquired the island, the board thought it wise to do a thorough investigation. What we found today, however, was unimaginable.”

“How many remains were discovered?”

“We’ve only uncovered the first few, but sonar readings suggest there are nearly one hundred. The bodies were laid out in ceremonial fashion before they were burned.”

“Was it a slaughter? Sacrifice?”

The man shook his head. “No, they were burned after death. You can see from the scorching on this skull,” he said, lifting a charred skull.

My knees went weak as I gazed into the empty sockets of the skull he held up. It stared back at me, watching me, accusing me. On a TV screen nearby, they were displaying a map of Lake Erie, pinpointing the island where the archeologist had made this discovery. The island…the island where my kind had died…the skull he was holding had belonged to one of my people.

The reporter then turned to a young woman standing near the archeologist. The reporter asked her a question, but in my haze, I missed it.

“You just don’t see this kind of craftsmanship amongst the Native Americans,” the young woman, said, holding something in the palm of her hand. “It was on one of the bodies. It’s extremely rare to see such metallurgy and jewel work. It looks Viking,” she said then lifted a charred band. It was a bracelet. “You can’t see it well, but there is agate and amber worked into the band,” the girl said proudly.

The reporter smiled then turned to the camera. “Quite a find for these junior archeologists. We’ll bring you further updates on this remarkable discovery as they become available. Back to you, Tom.”

“Cut,” someone called, then the lights went dim.

I stood in the darkness, the stars twinkling overhead. The crowd cheered the students and professor for their discovery. My family, my friends, my Kadan. I took a step toward the crowd. What would—what could—I say? This was sacrilege. They would go there and dig up the ghosts that haunted me. What would they find in the remains? What other clues would the clever young archeologist uncover? She looked at the bracelet, her eyes full of wonder. I wondered how she would feel if I told her that I was the one who’d made it. It had been a gift for my sister, Merlilium, whose diseased body I’d burned after gently crossing her hands on her chest, adjusting the bracelet so it shimmered in the sunlight. It amazed me to think the bracelet had withstood the fire, but that was the gift of mer metalworking, ores mined from the deep and crafted with skill. My kind had once been masters of the craft.

I stood in the darkness and debated. My past had collided with the present. Would the bodies yield the secrets of the deep? Did I have a duty to protect them? If so, what could I do? But more so, my mind bent on the here and now. Cooper was in the hospital. He was real and alive and near as I could tell, alone.