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Aargh. In my attempts to reformat this story for the site, I've accidentally deleted an entire two chapters of previously unposted material. And of course, the formatting's all gone to #$%! Until I manage to find a way to retrieve it, or rewrite it, I'll have to leave you hanging.
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Chapter Two
Coffee break, ten o'-clock.
Lunch hour, quick meeting, two'-clock, three.
"Sarah?" Sarah raised her straining eyes from the report in front of her to focus on the face of Angela Guido, the occupant of the office next to hers. She blinked a few times to clear her head. Angie was nice, but as gossipy as they came. Desperate to avoid a dissertation on romance in accounting, she tried to think of some excuse to ask her to leave.
"Mmm?" was all she could manage out.
"David Birnam's due on the floor in ten minutes." Angie expected a reaction, but Sarah shook her head. The name wasn't familiar. "You know, David Birnam? Our revered CEO's dear nephew who's coming on board as a VP today?" Sarah stared at her blankly. Angela clucked he tongue in disapproval. "Gal, you've been working too hard."
"So he's got clout," Sarah shrugged.
"More importantly, he's single."
Sarah's eyebrows went up. "You don't seriously think that throwing yourself at the Old Man Birnam's freckle-faced little nephew is going to get you into upper management, do you?" Angela smiled. "Oh, grow up."
The smile turned into a frown. "Just because-"
A knock on the door interrupted them. "Excuse me, ladies." A dark-haired man in his thirties stood in the doorway, very well dressed and carrying a sleek-looking attaché case. He was an executive, obviously, and radiated power like a heat lamp. And, in Sarah's humble opinion, he was also drop-dead gorgeous. "Miss Williams?" he inquired, looking to Sarah.
She nodded, trying to remember to breathe. His hard gray eyes met hers, glowing with a cold, almost electric intensity. He held out his hand. "David Birnam, new vice-president of Agate Technical."
"I don't see any freckles," Angie whispered smugly, but Sarah ignored her and shook his hand calmly.
"Sarah Williams, Assistant Regional Manager." He smiled, a perfect, engaging smile.
"It's a pleasure, Miss Williams. I've been wanting to meet with you for quite some time."
Sarah could feel herself blushing. She was so completely rapt, she didn't notice the white owl outside her window, beating frantically against the glass.
****
Toby fished an unopened three-pack of model glue out of the third shoebox of junk. "Aunt Kaye?!" he hollered downstairs. "I found my glue!"
"You don't need to shout, dear," came the reply. "I'll be leaving now if you don't need anything else." Toby leaned over the banister.
"I'm fine!"
Aunt Kaye was pulling on her shoes. "All right, then. I should only be out a few hours, but remember to call Sarah if something happens. The Petersons are still on vacation."
"Okay." He headed back into the hall.
"Goodbye dear." Toby heard the door open and shut. He picked up the glue and stuffed the shoebox back onto the closet shelf. It creaked like an unoiled door hinge, then settled beneath the weight.
Toby was about to close the closet door, but something caught his eye. There was something was stuck in the gap that the end of the shelf made against the wall. Setting down his glue, he went back in to investigate. It looked to be some sort of spiral notebook, probably slipped out of one of the packing boxes. He took the exposed corner, braced his foot against the door frame, and jerked.
Surprisingly, it came loose easily. The cover was torn and the pages were yellowing, but it was still in one piece. It was a sketchpad, Sarah's obviously. Curious, he took it back to his room, flopped down on the bed, and began to flip through it.
The pictures were mostly rough sketches, some jumbled, some torn out completely from frustration, but most still in pretty good shape. He recognized Mom and Dad immediately, as well as few of himself and MJ as a puppy. A few weird angled views of the house came next, followed by a long set of drawings of Sarah's first boyfriend, Ike. He skipped through that section hurriedly.
A funny cartoon worm popped up, followed by a couple of nicely colored pictures of a dwarf, the one from the old bookend Dad gave her. A monster straight out of Where the Wild Things Are was next, and then a strange assortment of goblin-type creatures, including an old man with a bird on his head.
He recognized the next figure with a great deal of amusement. It was Sir Didymus, one of Sarah's favorite toys, in a ridiculous pose of chivalry atop MJ, or perhaps the original Merlin. He glanced up at the stuffed original, now spending his days on Toby's bookcase with Lancelot and a box of Tinkertoys. He turned the page.
The last picture was a portrait of a long-haired guy who looked straight out of a fantasy-romance novel. Ruffled shirt, gloves, everything. He looked vaguely familiar, like some combination of an 80s glam rocker and his stepmom's old boyfriend. Jerome, or something. Well, whoever he was, he must've been pretty important to Sarah. The sketch was inked over, colored with pencils, and cleaned up considerably. "Weird," he muttered to himself. He turned the back cover over, intending to close the sketchbook, but another page came loose instead.
Funny, he thought. Must've been stuck.
This was a portrait as well, but a very different one from the picture of the blonde guy. The lines were very neat, not at all sketchy, and the coloring was darker, more vibrant. The subject had dark hair and was dressed in black. He held a bow in one hand, and a mean looking barbed arrow in the other. The expression on his face was arrogant, hard, and his eyes seemed to glare straight at Toby. Unsettled, he closed the sketchbook. He didn't know why it bothered him, but something about the picture wasn't right. Like it didn't belong there.
Somewhere overhead, there was a dark sound of thunder.
****
"So tell me about the famous Aunt Kaye." David was smiling again. That perfect smile. Sarah hadn't been able to say no when he'd asked her out to dinner that night, and now the two of them were sitting across from each other at Merlot's, talking over seafood and antipasto. Sarah took another sip of wine.
"Kaye's actually my stepmother's aunt. She came to live with us when Toby was six, and she's pretty much our only family now. We get along great, though. No problems."
"Good to hear. A strong family's always an asset, especially in our line of work." David put down his fork suddenly, and reached over for his attaché case. "Which brings me to the real reason I came to see you today." He pulled out a small packet of papers and handed them across the table to Sarah.
"This can't be right," she scanned through the paperwork. A smile spread across her face. "Regional Manager of the Northeast District? You're giving me the promotion?"
"Waverly's retiring in a month, so the position's up for grabs. And nobody deserves it more than you, Sarah. You'll note the increased benefits and the sizeable bonus."
"And the schedule." Sarah's smile faded a bit as she took in the details of her new position. The workload was about the same, but there was a large amount of time she'd have to spend on the road, starting with. . . "You want me in New York next Thursday?"
David picked up his glass. "That's this Thursday, Sarah. It's nothing much, just various client meetings and a round of golf." He watched her worried expression intently. "What's the matter? I thought this was what you wanted."
Sarah tensed, and almost considered handing the packet back to him. But this was the opportunity of a lifetime, a real chance at success. Throwing it away over a few weeks on the road would be ridiculous, childish. "It is," she said, forcing herself to look cheerful. "And I can't thank you enough for this, David. I really can't."
"Good," he picked up his wine glass, giving her a look that made her heart do somersaults. "Here's to you, Sarah. May you enjoy all the success you deserve." Sarah raised her glass confidently, all trace of hesitation gone.
"I'll drink to that."
****
Five-thirty.
Aunt Kaye sat in the bus depot, fidgeting. The bus had broken down some twenty miles away, and there would not be another for at least an hour. It was already much later than the time she thought she'd get home, and the lines for the payphone were stretching around the corner. "Bloody heck," she exclaimed to herself, as thunder rumbled above her. "A storm on top of all of this." With a sigh, she picked up her shopping and went to get a place in line.
****
Six-thirty. Toby watched MJ dozing peacefully on the rug, full, warm, and blissfully happy, despite the raging storm outside. The wind was screaming along the street, making the house creak and groan, and he swore he'd heard some of the shingles fly off the roof. The rain came in sudden waves. It was light one minute, then a deluge of liquid the next. The drops fell against the roof like ball bearings, beating out strange and wild rhythms.
Toby was worried. He'd already eaten a sandwich, but Aunt Kaye always made sure she was back before dinner. She was never, ever this late in getting home. He glanced up at the clock, and then drew the blinds. The storm probably had something to do with all this. Still, he'd better call Sarah and let her know.
He hurried into the kitchen, picked up the receiver, and dialed his sister's cel-phone number.
****
BRRR-EEEEP!
"Tobs? Is that you?" Sarah was more than a little annoyed. The evening was going wonderfully, and she didn't want it to be interrupted. David was reading over some report or other, clearly preoccupied.
"Sarah, Aunt Kaye's not home yet. It's nearly seven and there's a really freaky storm hitting the neighborhood."
"Are you okay? Have you eaten?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. MJ too. But it's really wild out there. When are you coming home?"
"Not for a while, Toby." She let herself sound more than a little impatient. "I've got good news, though. I got that promotion." A pause. Then an excited whoop of joy.
"Really?! That's awesome! Does this mean we can go on vacation now?" Sarah winced inwardly. She remembered she'd promised Toby they'd go on vacation this summer, a vacation she'd been delaying since last December.
"Um, no." She tried to sound upbeat. "I've got to take a business trip in a few days, and it looks like I'll have a full schedule for a few more months."
"Oh." There was no mistaking the disappointment in her brother's voice. "I guess your promotion means you've gotta work harder, doesn't it?" It wasn't a question.
Sarah tried to let the remark slide. "Just for a little while."
"Sure. A little while. That's what you said after your last promotion."
"Toby-"
"This bites, Sarah. I thought you said the only reason you wanted a higher position was because you wanted to work less, not more."
"Toby, it doesn't work that way!" Sarah was starting to lose her temper. David looked up at her, concerned. She lowered her voice. "I don't want to argue about this now, Toby. I'm very busy and I have to get back to my meeting. Just lock the doors and stay out of trouble until Aunt Kaye comes home. Can you do that?"
"Yes, but-"
"Good. I'll see you tonight." She hit the off button and turned off the ringer.
****
"Fine!" Toby yelled into the dial tone, and slammed down the receiver. In the living room, MJ raised a sleepy head and whined in befuddlement. Toby's fury vanished. "It's okay, buddy," he called softly. "Go back to sleep." MJ yawned and complied.
Toby locked the doors, pulled the drapes, and turned off all the lights except for the one on the porch and the little lamp in the living room. Then, he went to his room and flopped down on the bed, disgusted. "Work, work, work," he said to Lancelot. "That's all she ever does anymore." He noticed the sketchbook still sitting on his bedspread, and kicked it to the floor. "Sometimes I wonder if that's all she cares about."
****
"It's no good," the ticket seller told Aunt Kaye. "I just got word that the bridge went out in Middlebury. There won't be another bus 'til morning at this rate." Aunt Kaye thanked him and went back to her bags, greatly distressed. She'd almost made it to the payphones, but the wind had knocked the wiring loose somewhere and the whole line had gone dead.
"I do hope you and Sarah are all right, Toby," she sighed, pulling a tub of ice cream out of one of her bags. "Oh well. I might as well take care of this before it all melts."
****
"Your brother?" David asked kindly. Sarah tried to look as if nothing had happened, but she felt tired, upset, and more than a little angry.
"He's just upset about the business trip, that's all. I should've expected that he wouldn't understand. It's nothing to worry over, really."
"Kids are naturally a handful, Sarah. You shouldn't blame yourself."
"But he's my responsibility. Aunt Kaye is in her fifties. I can't really ask her to go chasing after a teenager in a few years. I'll have to handle it myself."
David nodded sympathetically. "It can't be easy playing the primary caregiver."
"Sometimes I wish he could be someone else's problem. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to deal with him. Sometimes. . ." She sighed in frustration.
"Sometimes?" David was leaning in closer to hear her.
"Sometimes. . . I wish the goblins would take him away. Like right now."
The words were out of her mouth before she realized it, and seemed to hang in the air before her, leaden, as their meaning slowly sunk in.
David looked at her, concerned. "Are you all right, Sarah? You look as though you've seen a ghost."
A streak of lightning tore the night sky.
Sarah's blood ran cold. "I didn't mean it," she whispered frantically. "I take it back. I didn't mean it!" But it was far too late for that. Somewhere, very close by, a goblin was laughing.
