Page 2 of Strength of the Mountain
Both Heath and Lily encouraged me to move back to Hope Mountain permanently, and after hearing about Top SpotReality’s shady games and aggressive tactics to buy up this town, I agreed. Besides, the fucker who sabotaged my sister’s bookstore still hasn’t been caught after nearly two months. There’s no way I’m leaving here until he’s brought to justice.
“Hello? Still with me?” Lily asks.
“Yeah. Can I bring anything?”
“Nope! I’m just so happy to have you over. It means so much to me that you’re really here, Hayden.”
“Love you, Lils.”
“Only you get to call me that, you know?” I can just see her scrunched-up nose and eyebrows as she scolds me. I love my little sister and I am glad to spend more time with her. It would kill her to know how restless I am and how I’ve hardly slept since moving back, so I keep those details to myself.
“I think I’ve earned the right,” I tease. “See you soon.”
We hang up, and I tilt my head back, rolling my shoulders and taking another deep breath. It’s already starting to get darker outside, thanks to the changing of the seasons, and I observe people spilling out of the community center as they head to their vehicles.
One person catches my eye, and I watch the woman from earlier lug a rolling suitcase, presumably filled with craft supplies, out to her car. She’s still wearing the wildflower crown, and something about that makes the corner of my lips curl into a smile. Without having spoken a single word to her, I know she’s genuine in her devotion to crafts, kids, and volunteer work.
I tell myself I’m only observing her to make sure she gets to her car safely. Since we still have a vandal on the loose, we all need to be more vigilant and watch out for our neighbors. As a former soldier-turned-bodyguard, it’s my duty to watch out for the people in this town.
Even as I think the words, I know that I care abouthersafety more than most others. Why, I haven’t figured out quite yet, butit doesn’t matter. It’s not like I would ever act on those initial feelings of attraction.
I don’t deserve a relationship, nor do I want one. My scars run deeper than the marred flesh of my left leg, and it would kill me if I lashed out at someone I love. That’s why I kept my sister at arm’s length for the last three years.
Going to the weekly veteran’s support meetings hasn’t healed me from my past. If anything, I simply know enough to know how truly fucked up I am. It wouldn’t be fair to bring someone else into my darkness, and certainly not someone like her… whatever her name is.
2
CAMI
Iplace a stack of white paper plates on the table along with a handful of markers, colored pipe cleaners, glitter glue, googly eyes, and an assortment of other craft items before repeating the process on the remaining four tables. This week at Kids Korner, we’ll be making fun masks and putting on a little play for the parents.
I wish I could volunteer at the Hope Mountain Community Center more than just one day a week, but I have bills to pay, which means I still need a day job. Granted, that job is also working with kids, but when you’re a kindergarten teacher’s assistant, there are a lot more parents to deal with. Here, everyone is grateful for the free childcare.
“Ms. Cami!” someone shouts excitedly as they rush into the room. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It’s Travis McClone, an easily excitable and adorable six-year-old who is here almost every week.
“Hi, friend,” I greet. “I’m so happy to see you! But remember what we talked about last time? You need to stay with your mom until I get you checked in.”
He sighs exasperatedly, making me laugh. I hold my hand out and lead him back to the table set up outside the door.
“Sorry, he got away from me almost as soon as I walked inside,” Pamela, his mother, apologizes. She’s carrying Travis’ baby sister, Tonya, on her hip with a giant diaper bag hanging over the other shoulder. She plasters on a smile, though I see the exhaustion in her faded green eyes.
“It’s okay,” I assure her. “We’re pretty informal here, but the kids’ safety always comes first. We just need to get your names here on the iPad and name tags on. You know the drill.”
Travis grabs a name tag sticker and a marker, and I smile as he writes his name in big, sloppy letters. He’s getting better, though it’s still barely legible. It doesn’t really matter. We all know Travis and Tonya. They are one of many families who take advantage of the programs, groups, and classes offered at the community center. Pamela attends AA meetings on Thursdays, and she just earned her ninety-day sobriety chip. I couldn’t be prouder of her and the way she’s picking up the pieces of her life to give her kids the best love and future she can.
“Let’s gooooooo!” Travis whines as he tugs my hand. I give Pamela a hug before she heads to her meeting, then turn to the bundle of energy bouncing up and down beside me.
“Do you want to make a lion mask with me?” I ask. “Or maybe an alligator?”
His eyes light up, and he races to the nearest table. “I wanna make a cat, like on your dress!”
I smile at his answer and get him set up with everything he needs. My dress today is yellow and bright pink, and has silhouettes of cats lining the bottom of the skirt. I wore my matching pink cat head earrings along with a bright yellow sparkly scrunchy.
“Pretty,” Amelia, another six-year-old I see often, says, pointing to my hair. I kneel down and let her touch the scrunchy, wincing when she tugs a little too hard.
“I have an extra one in my purse. Would you like it?”
Her brown eyes go wide with equal parts disbelief and longing, and she nods enthusiastically. That’s one reason I love working with kids. They accept me for who I am, crazy fashion sense and all. Most kids haven’t formed opinions on what’s weird yet, and I think that’s kind of beautiful. I can’t say the same for my peers or my own parents, for that matter.
