Girl in the Shadows (Shadows 2)

"I'm sorry I'm being so miserable," I muttered with my back to her. "but I can't help it. The love of your life kissed me last night. He did a little more and I thought maybe I could have a boyfriend, but he opened his eyes and I guess what he saw disgusted him so much he ran for his life. He's probably had nightmares about it and is trying to forget that it ever really happened.'

She heard nothing, of course. She washed down my shoulders. I closed my eyes and sat forward. She was doing a good job of massaging my neck. I continued to relax and just drift. I remembered when I was a little girl. I used to do this for my mother. She would moan with exaggerated pleasure. I was so serious, concerned I would miss a spot on her back or her neck. Why can't I return to that? Why can't I be a little girl forever and ever and not worry about being pretty or too fat and never finding love?

If only there was this time machine that you could activate when you were absolutely positive you were the happiest you could be and your family was the happiest they could be. You would push a button and time would stand still, freeze forever and ever. Na one would grow older and nothing would ever change.

Other girls my age were probably fantasizing about boys or becoming movie stars or sinning stars, but here I was fantasizing about being a little girl again. Something's very wrong with me. I thought. I'm a lost cause and I'm not even a lost cause for anyone else. There was no one else. I'm a lost cause for myself.

I lowered my head to my hands.

Echo leaned in to dip the washcloth into the bath water, and when she did, her breasts grazed over my back. A myriad of sexual imagery flowed over my eyes-- Celia caressing me and bringing her lips to my neck. Peter Smoke's kiss and touch. Uncle Palaver, naked beside his naked Destiny. Tyler lowering my costume and touching my nipples. I moaned, longing for the warmth of a loving embrace, anyone's loving embrace.

I reached up and held Echo's hand for a moment. She remained leaning over me. confused. I was sure. I was about to bring it to my lips, to run her hand over my cheeks.

"What in blazes is that girl doing?" I heard Mrs. Westington say. I let go of Echo's hand quickly and looked up to see Mrs. Westington standing in the bathroom doorway, a cup of piping hot herbal tea in her hands. She signed at Echo, asking her why she was almost naked.

"She just didn't want to get her clothing wet." I said quickly.

"Get your clothes on!" she ordered Echo. She put down the teacup and tapped her cane. She signed as well, saving, "Get dressed."

Echo moved quickly to her clothing. Mrs. Westington watched her and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't ask her to wash my back. She wanted to do it." That wasn't a lie, I thought. It just wasn't the whole truth.

"That child has no modesty. Never did. She used to run around naked when she was five and six and even seven. I'd find she took off her clothes because this itched her or that bothered her. Just lucky we live out here with only a few birds and rabbits.

People would think I was raising a wild animal. Anyway, I have some tea and honey here for vou. Drink it before it gets too cool," she told me, and handed the cup to me.

"Thank you," I said.

Echo stood by looking remorseful.

"Go on," Mrs, Westington told her, and waved her hand at the door. She signed and spoke. "Leave April to finish her bath, get dressed and into bed before she gets sick." She punctuated it with another tap of her cane.

Echo glanced at me and with her head down, left the room. I felt sorry for her. It was my fault. I couldn't move a foot right or a foot left without causing someone trouble.

"I swear," Mrs. Westington said, looking down at me sitting in the tub. "the older I get, the more I'm amazed at the things people do to themselves. You don't know enough to come in out of the cold rain. I swear.'

How was I going to explain it? I sipped the tea instead and looked down, afraid now that she would say_ , "You're too much trouble. You should leave."

She said nothing more. however. She left me sipping the tea as I sat in the tub. After a few more minutes. I put it down, stepped out of the water, and dried myself quickly. I wasn't getting sick. but I felt tired and emotionally drained. I shouldn't have done what I had done with Echo. I thought. There was no

reason to make her feel bad about my own problems. Perhaps I wouldn't be as good for her as Mrs. Westington had hoped I would be. Tyler was right. I'm not a proper companion. Maybe I really should be out of here as soon as possible. Even if I was afraid of living with Brenda again. I had little other choice but to leave. I belonged nowhere. That's why I was so content traveling from place to place with Uncle Palaver. Home was wherever we were that moment. We were two lost souls, drifting so that we didn't stay in one place long enough to see what other people had and then feel sorry for ourselves.

I crawled into bed. wishing I was crawling into my own coffin. I'd reach up and close the lid on myself. When I finally fell asleep, the darkness in my heart was as deep as the darkness outside.

Hours later. I was woken by the movement of the mattress and the lifting of my blanket. For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming or perhaps one of the loving dead souls, perhaps my parents, had come to me to reassure me, but when I turned. I realized it was Echo crawling into my bed to lie beside me. I quickly sat up and turned on the lamp on the night table.

"What's wrong?" I asked, seeing the terrible twisted expression on her face.

"I had a bad dream," she signed back. She then put both her hands side by side, the fingers together, facing her heart, opening and closing them quickly over her heart. With the expression on her face. I remembered that meant she was frightened. She continued the sign until I put my hand out to stop her.

I looked at my door. Had Mrs. Westington heard her come into my room? Would she burst in on us at any moment, confused and upset? I thought I should quickly tell Echo to return to her own bed before we were both in trouble, but one more look at her face told me I couldn't just throw her out. She did look terrified.

"What was your dream?" I asked.

She shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. but I could feel her trembling still. I wondered if she had ever crawled in beside Mrs. Westington after she had a bad dream. I couldn't imagine it. Mrs. Westington was too afraid to show affection. She didn't even like me catching her looking at Echo and smiling to herself. How alone and frightened Echo must have been all her young life to never have anyone to comfort her. How many, many times I recalled snuggling up beside my own mother or between her and my father when I was little. At least I always had that.

What was I going to tell her now? That it wasn't right for her to be in my bed? How would she understand that, and why wasn't it right for her to do it anyway? Didn't girlfriends sleep together in one or the other's bed? I was never close enough with any of my school friends to be invited over and do so. but I knew others did.