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    Rob Colton
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Caretaker - 8. Chapter 8

“Will you two get up already?” I let out an exasperated huff.

Grant and Chris rose from their kneeling positions. They stood there, staring at the ground, neither speaking. I looked back and forth between them, waiting.

The silence lingered until it became excruciatingly uncomfortable.

“For god’s sake. You guys make me crazy.”

Still neither spoke.

“Okay, whatever. I'm not doing this. Find someone else.”

I pushed past Grant, who finally turned around. “Hudson, you can't do that!”

“Since both of you still want to keep me in the dark, then let’s just pretend none of this happened. I’m done.”

Grant stopped me from leaving. “Hudson, it’s not like that. It’s just… We’re not used to talking about this stuff.”

Letting out a sigh, I sat back down on the bench. “So why do you think I’m the new caretaker?”

Grant rolled his hand with a flourish, and motioned toward the flowering shrub. “Hello? You brought a dead plant back to life. Even now your energy is flowing through the circle.”

I looked down at the shrub, and noticed blades of grass underneath it had started to sprout through the dead brush.

This is the circle?” I asked, looking around.

A woman’s voice answered from behind me. “Yes.”

I turned as Grant’s mother walked into the garden. Norma motioned toward the large statue jutting from a jagged rock. It always reminded me of the heads on Easter Island, only tall and skinny. It was weathered and crumbled, with dead vines crawling all over it. “That’s the head stone. The other eleven stones are arranged in a perfect circle, like a clock. They’re buried under all this decay.” She smiled, but it was without joy.

In fact, this Norma Reynolds was a completely different woman. Gone was the doting housewife with the cheery disposition. Was everything I knew about everyone a complete lie?

She moved to stand between Grant and Chris. “We belong to the Order of the Sacred Circle of Stones. You are its Caretaker. We are here to protect you and the circle. To be perfectly honest, it’s mostly ceremonial.”

Chris scoffed, then snarled. “Until recently. When the caretaker—the old caretaker—turned to the dark side.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re confusing him with Darth Vader, Obi Wan.”

Norma ignored our banter. “The caretaker draws his energy from nature, from the Earth. This circle is not only an outlet for this energy, but it recharges you and replenishes you. But it seems your predecessor had decided to toy with dark energy, including experimenting on living creatures. As his natural energy died, so did the garden.”

“He had this root,” I told her. “It was dark. It was… alive.” I shuddered as I thought about the root. Shaking my head, I blocked it out of my mind. “If I agree to be the caretaker, how am I supposed to know what to do? I mean, is there like a Hogwarts night school where I can take classes?”

“There is no agreeing. You are the caretaker, whether you like it or not. Unfortunately, if we had a proper succession, you would have become his apprentice before his passing. But there are others you can learn from. This isn’t the only circle.”

* * * *

Chris drove me home in silence. I wasn’t really in the mood for talking, but at the same time I was annoyed by his lack of emotion.

I unlocked my apartment and held the door open. “Come in.”

He hesitated for a second, then followed me in.

“You’re going to use this as an excuse, aren’t you? You’re already distancing yourself from me.”

“It’s complicated, Hudson.”

“I don’t get what’s complicated. If you don’t want me, just admit it.”

Chris lifted his eyes and met mine. He let out a breath, then opened his mouth, and then closed it. “It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s—”

“Complicated.” I rolled my eyes as anger welled up in me. “You’re such a hypocrite. I think I liked you better when you were scowling at me from across the room. You know what? I’m tired. Someone tried to kill me, and now I’m glowing green. I’m freaking exhausted, and I think you should go. That should uncomplicated things.”

I opened the door and held it for him.

“My job is to protect you, Hudson, and I can’t do that if we’re…”

“Right. Why don’t we uncomplicated that, too? You’re a coward, and I don’t need you to protect me.”

Chris’s jaw dropped as he stared at me. “But, Aunt Norma said—”

“I don’t care what she said. You guys work for me, right? Well, tell your aunt you’re fired.”

I pushed Chris through the door and slammed it behind him as hard as I could.

Copyright © 2015 Rob Colton; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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