The Tree Shepherd's Daughter (31 page)

She knew where he was headed now. And she waved at
Scott as she ran through Heartwood, trying to cut Knot
off at the stairs. But he was too fast for her, and he was at
the top of the outside staircase and through the kitty door
before she set a foot on the second step.

That tassel had better be in good shape, because she sure wasn't paying for it. She banged the door shut behind
her and yelled for the cat.

"You'd better give it up, klepto kitty. You've embarrassed me for the last time." She looked under her bed and
behind the sofa. Not in the bathroom, nor the kitchen. A
wet spot on the floor drew her eye. A pawprint. And then
she saw others, headed to her dad's room. The wet ground
had given him away.

She pulled the curtain aside softly, and then screamed,
"No!"

Knot was squatting in the opened bottom drawer of
her father's nightstand, about to do his worst.

"Get out of there, Knot." Keelie spoke sternly, using her
mother's lawyer voice. "You are so dead if you pee in Dad's
drawer. And I won't be doing the killing, either."

He blinked at her, green eyes half-closed, tassel dangling
from the side of his mouth like a drooping gold cigar.

She reached for him, and he leaped past her, dropping
the tassel. She picked it up with her fingertips to avoid the
drool he'd left on it.

It seemed to be okay. She turned to close the drawer in
case Knot decided to return, and stopped. A book of photographs lay on top of a white folded blanket. It looked old, but smelled familiar. So familiar that tears came to her
eyes. It smelled like Mom.

Keelie sat on the floor, resting her back against the side
of her father's bed. She put the photograph book on her
lap and reached for the white blanket, except that it wasn't
a blanket, it was a finely crotcheted shawl. She wrapped
herself in it, pulling it up around her shoulders and to her
cheeks, as if Mom was hugging her again. She closed her
eyes and let herself go-let herself cry for the face she'd
never see again.

When she could think again, she opened the book
randomly. It was a photographic chronicle of her life. She
turned the pages, amazed at the pictures. How did Dad get
all of these? Each photo was neatly labeled in her mother's
precise handwriting. Mom had assembled this book. Mom
had made this for him.

She turned back to the beginning. The first photograph
was of a very young version of Mom with long golden hair
down her back. She wore a lacy, medieval-looking wedding dress with a long jeweled belt. Whoa, was that a garland of flowers in Mom's hair? Keelie smiled. Mom would
be so embarrassed to know she was seeing this early version of her.

Dad stood next to her in the photo, his long dark hair
pulled back into a ponytail. Weird, but he seemed exactly the same today. He hadn't aged at all. To Mom's left
was Grandmother Josephine in a dark suit with her usual
fluffy white blouse, and by Dad's side was a woman with
long, rippling gray and silver hair tucked behind obviously
pointed ears. Her hair was held by a thin crown of silver wire. Her beautiful green chiffon dress was embroidered
in a scrolling silver design. Keelie looked closely. Leaves.
What else?

She stared at the picture, a slice of time long ago. Mom
looked so happy. She had her arms through Dad's and gazed
up at him, a smile on her face. It was obvious that she really
loved him, at least early on. What had changed?

Keelie stroked the slick paper of the photograph as if
she could really touch her mother. Mom, why did you take
me away from him? Why did you break up our family?

She'd never know. Her dad knew his version of the
truth, and Mom's was gone forever.

In the second photo, Mom sat cross-legged on the
floor beside a baby with a riot of dark curls. Smiling,
Keelie touched the baby's hair. Dang, her hair had been
doing the wild puffy 'do even then. On the other side of
the curly-haired baby, Dad waved a stuffed dog, trying to
get her attention, a goofy smile on his face. The baby was
focused on her blocks, ignoring both parents.

Keelie brought the picture closer. Her baby blocks
seemed to have been made from cherry wood. She slapped
her hand against her forehead. She was becoming wood
obsessed. Was she going to I.D. every piece of wood everywhere for the rest of her life?

Another photo showed Keelie, a little older, sitting in
Dad's lap, holding a baby doll. Keelie smiled. The baby
doll had pointed ears. Where had it come from? Dad's
smile was just as goofy as the one in the other pictures.
This was a guy in love: in love with his wife, in love with
his baby.

It occurred to her that sometimes when he thought
she wasn't watching him watch her, he still got that goofy
smile on his face.

She looked up toward the ceiling. If Mom was hanging
out on a cloud with the other angels, Keelie wanted her
to come down and talk to her. To answer her questions.
She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was still
alone in her father's bedroom.

She shivered, although the cool mountain morning was
no colder than usual. The shawl had come loose while she
looked at the photos and she wrapped it tighter. Maybe it
was just psychological, but she felt warmer, safer.

She had a few more days to decide if she belonged in
Dad's world or whether she would return to the world
her mother had given her. A third choice came to her.
Dad could come to California. Not L.A., but maybe the
wooded hills of the north. They could be a family again,
and Ariel could live with them.

She'd still be close to her friends, and to all the memories she'd made with her mom and Grandmother Josephine, but she wasn't sure anymore whether she belonged
there. She'd been certain of the answer when she'd arrived
at the Faire, but not anymore.

The thought made Keelie restless. Maybe she needed
a walk to clear her head. She had decisions to make about
her life. And she wanted to know more about being an elf.
It was a big step to go from preppy California kid to finding out she wasn't all the way human, talking to trees and
fighting evil forces in the forest. It sounded like the plot of
a video game, but it was her life.

If she did go with Addie to California, Keelie knew she
would break Dad's heart. They had gotten so close after all
these years of being apart.

But hadn't he left Keelie with Mom all those years ago?
Sporadic letters from Renaissance festivals across the country, toys shipped for Christmas via UPS. That wasn't parenting. He hadn't been there for the really hard stuff. For
when her tooth got knocked out rollerblading, or when
the boy she had a crush on had asked her to a dance, then
didn't show up to take her. Mom had been there. She'd understood.

A faraway voice in her head asked, What about the time
you saw the thing in the forest, and Mom told you it wasn't
there? But it was. And Mom had seen it too. And it was
not a white horse, either, not with that giant horn.

Keelie felt a sudden urge to be outside among the
trees. She wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders. Feeling very different from the Keelie Heartwood
who had tried to catch up with Ms. Talbot only the week
before, she stepped out onto the landing of the outside
stairs.

What had changed her? Dad? Ariel? Certainly not that
hateful cat. She'd also developed an obsession for wood and
craved to be around living trees. If she went back to Los
Angeles, she would have the beach, but only foreign transplants, palm trees, and scrub to talk to. She wondered what
kinds of faces they had. Maybe she could grow an herb garden to satisfy her need for greenery, or buy a sapling.

Keelie wiggled her bare toes, smiling. Sir Davey had said
that working in the mud would make the magic bypass her mind and tap into her heart. Maybe walking barefoot on
dirt would do the same thing. Maybe she should go to the
meadow to talk to the aspen. She remembered the pulse of
energy it had sent through her when she'd touched Moon.

Right about now, Keelie could use some of that healing
energy for herself.

Her phone rang inside. She followed the sound to
where her bag was on the floor by her bed, and of course,
Knot had shed his fur all over it.

"Hello," she answered.

"Hey. All plans are in place for the Great Escape."

Keelie didn't want to think about the Great Escape, not
when she was planning the Great Compromise.

"Can we talk tomorrow? Dad's calling me."

"Dad? I thought he was Father, the troll, the old man,
the sperm donor."

"Tomorrow. We'll finalize the plans."

"Okay, Keelie. Tomorrow." Laurie sounded mad at her.

Keelie shoved the phone under her pillow, then
wrapped the shawl tighter around her, feeling guilty. Knot
was on the bed, glaring at her with his weird green swampgas eyes. He hissed.

"Shut up, you old masochist. I'm not paying for that
tassel, either. Wait till I tell Dad."

Zeke called her from outside.

Knot's fur rose in a lion's ruff.

"Chill, furball. I'm not going anywhere."

Knot hissed again, unmollified, and backed up a step
as if readying for an attack.

"Shut up, psycho kitty."

His purr cranked up.

"Hey, didn't you hear me calling you?" Dad stood by
her curtained doorway. He stared at the shawl.

"Dad, I can explain."

"Please do." His gaze shifted to Knot, who'd fallen flat
to the bed and was pretending to be asleep.

"It's his fault." Keelie jabbed a finger at the cat. "He
stole a tassel from the Shimmy Shack, and I chased him to
get it back, and then he was in your room, and I thought
he was going to pee in your drawer, so I was just protecting your stuff."

"I see."

"And when Knot left, I saw the book of pictures and
the shawl. And it smelled so much like Mom..."

His voice softened. "I see." He turned away for a second, then looked back at her. His eyes seemed brighter, as
if he was holding back tears. "Keep it. I was going to give
it to you anyway."

"Thanks. Why were you calling me?"

"You got a box from my mother. Your grandmother.
Let's open it and see what she sent."

Keelie followed him to the living room, remembering
what Dad had told Sir Davey about her being "the one."
And whatever that was, her grandmother wouldn't accept it.
She thought of Elia's taunt about half-humans, and Elianard
calling her a half-breed. Was her grandmother like that,
too?

"Let's open the box." Dad cut the brown wrapping
paper, and a strong smell like cinnamon drifted around the
room. Keelie recoiled. It smelled like Elianard. She picked up the paper wrapper and smoothed it out. The return
address read "Dread Forest, Oregon." Could she live in a
place called the Dread Forest?

She watched Dad open the box and looked inside.
"Wow. You want to see what your grandmother sent you?"

"There's nothing in there that might bite?" No telling,
around here.

"No." He laughed and ruffled her curls with his hand,
as if she was a little kid. She smoothed them back down
and leaned over to look in the box.

"Dad, what if instead of living in the Dread Forest we
lived in northern California, you know, where the big redwoods are?"

"Our home is the Dread Forest." He looked at her curiously. "Why are you asking?"

"If we lived in California, I'd be near my friends, and
we could still live in a forest. I could even take care of
Ariel. We could be a family."

"We're already a family, Keelie. And your grandmother
lives in Oregon. We have a lot of family there, actually."

"Maybe you do, but I don't. I haven't had a single
birthday card, or phone call, or damn, you're still alive from
her since-um, let me think-oh yeah, my entire life."
She was yelling, and she hadn't meant to.

Dad stared at her. "Where did that come from?"

"You are so clueless. We are not a family. Mom was
my family. We're starting out, but that doesn't mean you
can tuck me into your little woodland world like a chipmunk or something. I'm not a tree. You are not my shepherd."

"I never said I was. I'm your father." He was yelling now,
too.

"Quit yelling."

"I didn't start it, you did."

"Oh grow up. You are such a Peter Pan with your
groupies and your elfie ways. All granola and oatmeal and
ceremonies with the trees. I need to get out of here. I need
to touch some concrete. See you later."

"Where are you going? Come back here. We're not finished."

"Oh, we so are." She slammed the door on her way
out, but it clicked shut so she opened it and slammed it
harder.

As she stormed down the stairs, she saw Knot in her
window, his mouth hanging open in kitty shock. And that
made her feel great. She stuck her tongue out at him and
headed for the Shire.

She needed human companionship. If there wasn't a
party on, she'd get one started.