Chapter Thirteen
Thirteen
Beneath a bright, cloudless sky, Antaris watches cows and sheep graze in the pasture behind the school while Veda marks his growing fascination with every little gasp and smile.
Only when Peter arrives with a tiny guest does he finally tear his eyes away.
The moment it’s placed on the blanket, the kitten wobbles over to Antaris, who scoops it up with a grin.
“He seems to be gaining weight properly. We’ve been feeding him gruel,” Peter says, kneeling beside Veda’s outstretched legs. “The mom was probably feral, but I don’t think any of the barn cats will take him in. I’ll keep him until we figure something out.”
Veda nods silently.
“What do you want to name him, Antaris?” Peter asks.
He goes still, looking to Veda for permission.
“You don’t have to decide today,” she assures. “When you’re ready, you can name him whatever you like.”
Antaris’s slow, hesitant smile softens Peter’s expression. The little boy brings the kitten to his face, tilting his head to study it. He nods, gets up, and carries the kitten a few feet away, gently placing it on the grass to let it explore. He watches closely, not letting it stray far.
“Khadijah and I take turns waking up to feed him, yet he merely tolerates us.”
“Bitter much?”
“No, but clearly that’s his cat.” Peter shakes his head. “Poor Hiram.”
Veda tears her gaze from the adorable sight. “Why?”
“He’s allergic.”
Antaris is on his hands and knees, gently encouraging the kitten to walk. He looks happy. Laughter bubbles in her chest at the thought of Hiram sneezing uncontrollably.
“Oh, and for you.” Peter hands her the bag and stands.
“I need to take the kitten back for a little while to go to a vet appointment,” he says to Antaris.
“But I’ll bring him back soon, and maybe something else, too.
” Eventually he leaves with a promise to bring the kitten back tomorrow after class.
Antaris settles beside Veda to share carrots and celery. He angles his face toward the sun, looking more childlike than she’s seen before.
“I have a gift for you,” she says.
His eyes open, head tilting with curiosity. The expression shifts to confusion when he sees the contents.
“It’s a lantern.” The same as hers, it’s made from brass with a rope handle. Veda whispers the activation spell, “Voster.”
Antaris is enraptured as the lantern floats from her hand to him. She looks on as it hovers until he takes hold of the handle. Light appears inside. He gives her another confused look.
“That means the spell has been activated by your touch. The lantern will draw light from the sun, and it will always follow you.” Veda offers him a warm smile.
“I have one just like it. My dad gave it to me when I was little. He told me to carry it in the woods in case I got lost, and keep it in my room so it could catch all my bad dreams and sadness. He said when I’ve finally caught everything, when I no longer need the light, and I’m ready to let it go, I can release it into the sky. ”
Antaris frowns and tries to hand it back.
“Oh no, this is yours. I’ve got mine,” Veda says. “I’m not ready to let it go just yet. I need the light a little longer.”
Sadness clouds his hazel eyes. He doesn’t need to tell her he understands why she holds on to hers. There’s nothing like having her emotions cracked open by a silent child’s gaze.
Veda nudges him. “There’s something else in the bag for you.”
Antaris sets the lantern between them. Veda moves it away as he pulls out the last item: a book on beginner’s sign language.
“So we can talk with our hands.” She wiggles hers. “Do you want to learn?”
He nods.
Veda has been practicing the letters since purchasing the book for this exact moment. She guides him through them, speaking the letters aloud as she adjusts his hands. Once they finish, they start again. This time, she spells a small word.
H and I.
Antaris mimics her, beaming when she moves his hands. Hi.
Communication in its purest form.
Antaris doesn’t realize anything is amiss until Veda picks up a basket of tangerines and walks to the greenhouse, not the school.
When he tugs anxiously at her hand, she stops and kneels in front of him. “I have a surprise for you. Come on. I want you to meet my friend.”
She expects to see Simran waiting to accompany Antaris on his playdate, but to her pleasant surprise, his grandmother is absent.
Her replacement is only slightly more favorable, though she’d never admit it to anyone but herself.
Dressed in all black, Hiram watches as they approach.
Veda can’t say she hasn’t thought about him since their last interaction.
An excited giggle draws her attention. August is out of sight but approaching quickly, based on his volume and pounding footsteps. Antaris goes rigid, fidgeting with his knitted bow tie. Kneeling in front of him, Veda gently straightens it. “If it’s too much, just stand by me or your dad, okay?”
She notices Hiram tense slightly until Antaris nods, slipping a hand into hers and squeezing tight.
Veda sees Hiram’s double take, but she’s too busy calculating the chances of success versus failure to care.
Knowing how August’s anxiety functions, this match may not go well.
Children are unpredictable. Still, she has hope.
August is a tornado of energy barreling past the row of flowers. Peter follows, sunglasses on, carrying muddy shoes and followed closely by Gabriel. Only then does she realize August is in socks. How that happened is anyone’s guess.
Pleasantries are exchanged between the adults while the boys size each other up for the first time.
Hiram moves to the other side of his son, sneaking glances at their joined hands.
Antaris clings to Veda’s leg while August grins, flushed red.
Veda dissects their contrasts: Antaris is neat and reserved; August is messy and eager.
Their similarities shine, too, both waiting for the other to make the first move.
August takes initiative. “Can I call you Ant?”
Peter and Gabriel suppress their amusement with coughs. Antaris’s confusion smothers his father’s intrigue. Veda rests her hand on his shoulder to unfreeze him. “It’s a nickname.”
He considers this like one would a business deal, then nods.
August’s face lights, then immediately crumples. “I forgot I’m s’posed to say hi first.”
“It’s okay,” Veda reassures. “You did great! Right, Antaris?”
He nods and shyly waves, signing the letters Veda just taught him. From the corner of her eye, she sees Hiram’s shock.
August’s smile returns. “Can you teach me to talk with my hands, too?”
Antaris peers up at Veda. She can’t help thinking they’re cute, both hanging on her response. “Sure, we’ll try to work something out with your dad.”
August steps closer. “My dad says you don’t talk, but he says I talk enough for the both of us.”
Gabriel palms his forehead. “That’s not what I said.”
Peter’s shoulders shake with silent laughter.
August asks, “Can we go back with the chickens?”
Veda tilts her head, questioning, as Peter nods. “Of course.” Then, to Veda, he adds, “I brought the baby chickens today. The cat is tired after getting shots.”
“Yes, of course.”
Only then does Antaris let her hand go and follow August, Peter and Gabriel trailing after. In her bones, she knows it’s Hiram who slips quietly into step beside her. The natural way he raises her hackles should be studied. “Surprised to see you here.”
“You’ll be seeing me more often.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
His expression remains neutral, eyes fixed on the boys now inside the small enclosure, instantly swarmed by five chirping chicks. They look like they’re in heaven. Antaris doesn’t stay reserved for long. He cracks his first smile when he successfully picks up one, dimples on full display.
“That’s Honey Mustard,” Peter tells them.
Hiram balks while Gabriel cackles, joined by Veda. “What kind of name . . .”
“Khadijah,” Peter says.
The boys pick up each chick to present to Peter for their names. When Antaris strokes Barbecue’s head with fascination, she glances around the greenery surrounding them. As it turns out, she didn’t need to do much facilitating at all.
“I’ll be right back. Going to pick a few strawberries and lettuce for the chicks.” She’s not far when footsteps follow. She stops by the tomatoes, picking the ripest one. “I don’t need any help.”
“I know,” Hiram replies, but stays anyway.
“I just wanted to let you know that my father secured research and had five boxes of it delivered to my house. I haven’t had time to go through them yet, but if you want to look together, we can.
I don’t know where you live, and I know you won’t come to my place.
The downtown library has private study rooms we could use. ”
It’s a surprisingly reasonable offer. “Okay.”
“Since you’re in a nonconfrontational and honest mood today . . . Peter mentioned losing sleep because of chickens and a kitten—”
“Your son’s, yes. Peter’s waiting for you to figure it out, make peace, buy allergy elixir, and assume custody.”
Hiram cracks a smile. Veda rolls her eyes, but a matching smile sneaks onto her face.
“I think I just might do that,” he says, mostly to himself.
She can’t tell if he’s joking or—
“It’ll be worth it, seeing him this happy.”
She doesn’t know what to say, so she walks on. Hiram remains at her side, his purposeful stride slowing to match hers, hands behind his back like Antaris. They never leave the beaten path. When their eyes meet, she realizes the watcher has become the watched.
“I got him a lantern. It’s with his book bag, along with a sign language book.”
A quiet intensity lingers in his gaze. “Why?”
“Aside from the fact that it floats on its own and stores sunlight, it captures the energy from bad dreams.”
“How did you know he was having nightmares?”
“I would be surprised if he wasn’t.”
“Peter gave him an elixir to help that didn’t work.”