Page 9 of Sound and Deception

Oh, while I think about it, Mrs. Betty Jolly is looking to sell a croquet set and one of those cool roll top desks. Interested? Stop by her salon and chat her up. She might consider bartering if you have anything of interest.

And onto our resident cryptid news. We’ve had several Klahanie sightings, two even by your local, charming radio personality. Ahem. Other sightings were reported by several others from our tightknit community. Apparently, she has been spotted delivering to-die-for cobbler, reportedly courtesy of her grandmother, Judith Holt, and great-aunt, Sunny Eubank. We’re still awaiting an actual social call from our cute, but elusive recluse…”

He followed his bout of news with the song “The Reason” from Hoobastank.

Chapter Nine

“You’re all greedy little boogers, aren’t you?” I scratched Hades behind the ear, as he munched his second piece of apple. Persephone, Eurydice, and Orpheus pushed in around me, waiting on theirs and not subtle about it. I’d already given them fresh hay and grain, cleaned out the automatic water dispenser, and scooped their pile of poo, so now it was time for some love and attention. Gram and Sunny had had this little herd of alpacas since I was in middle school and I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed these gentle critters. Before them, we’d had a couple of llamas, who were both jerks.

I hugged Persephone while she nibbled on her piece of fruit, demeanor a little more delicate than that of her boyfriend. Her coat was damp from the rain, but the animals loved the chilly weather, rarely seeking out their shelter, unless it was mealtime. There were no large predators on the island, so they were safe and happy in their little pasture. I dimly wondered if Gram had remembered to arrange for the shearers for the spring. Those guys booked up fast, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to attempt to shave them myself.

I slogged toward the gate, water dripping off the edge of my rain hood, and my little entourage following me. They made little humming sounds that vaguely sounded like they were questioning me about life choices.

“Okay, guys. I’ll be better about getting to you on time tomorrow. We good?” I ran a hand over each alpaca before slipping through from the paddock, and shutting it before they could follow me. “Maybe I’ll pop by after dinner to say goodnight.”

Asta, sitting outside the enclosure the whole time, got to her feet, tail wagging. I trailed my fingers over her damp head, and she happily continued to shadow me.

Carl worked to replace a rotting fencepost, stringy but somehow powerful arms taut in effort. I’d recently heard he was divorced with kids all the way over in Coeur d’Alene, but why he chose to make his living as a handyman on the island was his own business. If Gram and Sunny couldn’t make him blab, I figured no one could.

“Hey, kid.” He grunted when I passed the southeast corner of the paddock, his head turning to watch me.

“Afternoon, Carl.”

He paused in his work and swiped a gloved hand across his forehead. It was forty-eight degrees and all the guy wore was a Seahawks t-shirt and old carpenter pants. Maybe he’d originally hailed from Minnesota or someplace else where your eyeballs could freeze to your eyelids.

“Starting to lose a little light, but I should be able to finish this up.” He met my gaze, his odd tawny-colored eyes holding fast. “I’ll take care of number four on Wednesday.”

A cabinet door in bungalow four had broken a hinge, but guests weren’t due until Thursday. “Sounds good. Thanks!”

“No worries.”

He continued to stare at me until I turned away from him to walk back toward the house, feeling a little unnerved.

****

I’d heard my first Noah report about a week after I first ran into him. Now, it seemed he was throwing stuff out there every few days, much to Gram’s and Sunny’s amusement.

One new report mentioned me making another General supply run (credit for the ‘sighting’ given to one “Mr. Harvey Osmond, teacher extraordinaire, who bumped into Klahanie after being sent out by his wife, our own local veterinarian, the lovely Dr. Helen Osmond, to purchase two cans of creamed corn for God knows what.”), one questioning me wearing dark glasses while playing chauffeur to Gram and Sunny on a rare sunny day(“Our local cryptid is quite the mystery today, hiding some I-know-to-be-beautiful baby blues behind some sharp looking retro Oakleys.”), and one wondering if I wore an ankle bracelet preventing me from going beyond a certain parameter(“Makes you wonder what our local cryptid got herself into.”).

He followed up the last report with the song “Missing You,” from John Waites.

Enough was enough. He was aggravating the hell out of me, but, in fairness, I couldn’t completely deny a tiny spark of amusement, myself. If nothing else, he was persistent. I just wasn’t quite ready to share that admission with anyone else.

“I’m doing this, but under duress.”

“Oh, I know.” Gram made a loop around me in her wheelchair, while Asta trotted behind. “It’ll be good for you. He’s always been a good kid. And he definitely grew into a nice specimen of male.”

“Gram!”

“It’s true. I have eyes that still mostly see, and I’m not dead.”

I couldn’t argue with that and mouth-shrugged.

“You look good, hun.”

I stared at her before glancing down at myself. “Faded jeans and a sweater isn’t exactly the apex of fashion.”

“Not exactly what I meant, but it’ll do.” Her expression shifted from playful to something else, and my stomach spiraled downward just a tad. “I know you’re not ecstatic to be back, but I’d be lying if I told you I was sorry, because I always love seeing you. Sunny feels the same way.”

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