Page 101 of Shadow and Skulls

Tank

My hand glides over the page as I draw a cartoonish rendition of the truck my dad and I started to build the summer before he passed. I was ten.

Blue. My favorite color is blue, because it was the color of my first vehicle.

I tell her a little about my dad, keeping it short. Petey isn’t pleased he’s somehow ended up as my personal postman. Charlotte dances beside me, shoving her little kitten under my nose, providing yet another distraction. The club is not making this easy on us. Maybe that’s the point.

“Kelsie likes flowers,” she says.

I sneeze, making them both jump.

“Dan didn’t say anything about flowers. Just letters,” Petey states dryly.

She drops the cat in my lap. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t go far,” he tells her as her small feet carry her outside.

As I’m folding up my letter, she comes back in.

“Where did you get those?” her dad asks.

“The nice lady who lives next door.”

He rolls his eyes. “Why were you talking to strangers?”

She rolls her eyes right back at him, tapping her little boot on the floor. “I wasn’t talking to strangers.” She emphasizes thesat the end. “And besides, she’s not astrangeranymore.”

Her arms are full of flowers, and they are all blue.

“Can this kid read?” I ask her father as I search the cabinets for something to put them in. I find an old canning jar under the sink.

Petey is already helping Charlotte cut the ends off. He laughs. “Why? Do you think she was reading over your shoulder?”

“Apparently.” I tap the end of her nose with my finger as I set the jar on the table.

“These will look so pretty in her new house. Have you seen it?” she asks, arranging the flowers like an expert florist.

I shake my head, sitting down beside her.

She proceeds to tell me everything about it. “It’s so cool.”

“Maybe someday I’ll get to see it.”

Petey eyes me. He already knows I’ve seen it. But in my defense, I think she leaves the windows wide open on purpose. She likes it when I watch her.

Charlotte’s little head bobs as she agrees.

“Okay, that’s good enough. Dan will probably toss them in the trash anyway,” Petey tells her.

Charlotte huffs at this, and then wrinkles her nose at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him.”

This makes me laugh. It feels good. “Heaven help you, brother,” I say to Petey.

He tucks my letter in his pocket and picks up the jar, pausing by my side. “I’ve got the whole club to help me keep her out of trouble.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze before moving toward the door. “Come on, kiddo.”

Charlotte grabs her kitten, rubbing her cheek along his soft fur. “Maybe you could have your letter ready next time so you won’t be rushed.”

Petey puts his hand on top of her head and spins her around to face the door. “Okay, you little meddler. This is the last time I’m bringing you along.”

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