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The Hidden

By B. B. Sawyer

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CHAPTER ONE
The church was snowy white, probably recently painted. It
was still newer looking than in the dreams she had been
having since she was a child. Four steps led to the
entrance, flanked on each side by a profusion of spring flowers.
Yellow butter cups, daffodils, small grape hyacinth, and red,
yellow, and purple tulips. The flowers so profuse Jade w
antlers covered in velvet, reminded her of twisted, moss-covered
tree limbs. As she eased closer, he came into clear view. She set the
aperture and F-stop on her Minolta and snapped several shots.
Then all thoughts of photos vanished.
The magnificent creature seemed ancient. Butterflies danced in
her stomach, her fingertips tingled from a desire to be the first to
touch his soft fur. The ethereal quality of the animal projected
strength, perseverance, and confidence. As he held his head majestically
high, Jade had the feeling that this was more than any
chance encounter. It felt almost surreal. The light shimmered
around him, causing his whole body to glisten as if covered in fairy
dust. Something began to stir in her breast. Feelings of encouragement
and . . . what? Hope? Was that what she was feeling?
Then he was gone. As the buck left her sight, the loneliness
that was so much a part of her returned. “Am I doomed to be alone
forever? That creature has more than I do. He belongs with his
herd. I have no one.”
She was drawn by a force she couldn’t explain toward the spot
where he had stood among the headstones. Fading light caused by
the large trees left dim shadows on the last reminders of the dead.
Their names and the span of time they had on this earth marked by
the cold headstones. The moist, musty earth quickly replaced the
sweet savor of the flowers. Jade gazed at the headstone where the
deer had stood.
A chill ran down her spine. Sweat beaded on her forehead as
she read. “Born June 22, 1952 Amber Gail Stevens, tragically
taken from us on July 12, 1955.” Her knees weakened. She
collapsed onto the moist ground. She traced the letters gingerly
with her finger. The granite, cold and rough, caused her fingertips
to tingle. Our last name and date of birth are the same. My twentyfifth
birthday is coming in a couple of weeks. Aunt Helen never
mentioned any ties to this place. Think, think, close your eyes and
run through the dreams. Remember.
She recalled a distant time. The breeze smelled of wild flowers,
clean linens, and Momma’s perfume. The sky was clear with a few
fluffy clouds skirting the bright sun. Momma was hanging laundry
on the clothesline. Clean, white sheets flapped in the breeze like
angel’s wings. She knelt down and squeezed the girls tight with a
smile on her face that eclipsed the sun. As she ruffled their hair and
placed a soft kiss on their cheeks, they were lifted up together.
Momma’s face as smooth as rose petals, eyes the color of a golden
sunset and hair that shone bright auburn in the sun. She squeezed
them tight as they spun around in a circle, laughing together. Jade
felt the love only a mother could give.
Jade wouldn’t let go, so her momma carried her inside and left
a plaintive Amber to play a bit longer while Aunt Helen continued
to hang laundry. Then things changed. Momma’s smile faded as a
dark shadow fell across her beautiful face. Tears were streaming
down soft cheeks . . . Jade felt pressed down. She couldn’t breathe.
She tried to scream but couldn’t. The sky turned dark with storm
clouds as a terrible oppression filled the air. Water washed over her
face. Her mouth filled with it as she looked up into the sky. A
heavy rain was falling as lightning strikes landed everywhere. She
was sinking. It was getting darker. She slid into an inky blackness.
There were always two of us at the clothesline that day. We
were playing in the clothes baskets. They weren’t dreams. They
were memories. Amber, her twin sister, with golden eyes like
Momma, was there with her.
Jade drew a ragged breath. Shaking like a leaf tossed in a wild
storm as she tried to recover from the shock. How did Amber die?
How could Aunt Helen have kept this from her?
She had a sister.
Jade’s knees became stronger, as did her resolve to discover
answers about her past that had been hidden from her.
Memories of Amber’s funeral flooded her mind. She was
crying on her Momma’s shoulder, not fully understanding what
was happening. Her momma’s shaking body rattled her insides like
marbles bumping together. Blooms from the mimosa tree swept across the ground. As her mother carried her, the spicy, honeyed
smell of the blooms crushed beneath people’s feet reached her
nose. Delicate and fragile, like Amber. She was confused and
frightened back then. Now she was aware of an ominous feeling to
the whole affair.
The sun warmed her back, melting some of the chill from her
bones. A breeze stirred as she gazed at the stone. What could have
happened to Amber? Could she find out? God please help me.
Praying? Her? That was something she gave up on as a child.
Another strange occurrence today.

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