Protector - Laurel Dewey [116]
“Emily—”
“Pleeeeese.”
Jane surveyed the area and reluctantly trailed off into the tall grass with Emily. After about ten feet of wading through waist-high field grass and the occasional prickly bull thistle, the two emerged into a verdant, wildflower filled, soggy meadow that spanned a good seven acres. Emily ran ahead of Jane, skipping across the ground and picking a handful of wildflowers.
“I found the creek!” Emily yelled out. “And it leads into a huge lake!” Jane caught up with Emily and followed the creek around a bend of cattails that flowed into a stunning mountain lake that reflected the clear blue sky. “Hey!” Emily said excitedly. “There’s fish in here!” Jane walked to the water’s edge and noted a few large trout cavorting under the water. “I’ve never caught a fish!” Emily announced. “Have you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Can you teach me?”
“Not without a fishing rod.”
Emily’s attention was quickly drawn to a glint of sunshine refracted off metal. She spotted the backside of an enormous, round metallic structure. “What’s that thing up there on the hill?” Emily asked, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
Jane strained her eyes against the piercing sun. “It’s a water tower.” The two then curved around the lake, ascended the gradual hill and came up on the immense tower. Standing beneath it, they felt dwarfed by its formidable exterior. Two ladders were built into the tower fifty feet tall and had a radius of at least thirty-five feet. Jane turned to Emily. “Come on, let’s climb up. You go in front of me.”
Emily stood paralyzed, her eyes scanning the sides of the tower. “No . . .” she said, turning away.
“Can you imagine the view? I bet you could see every fruit farm in this valley! Come on, climb up in front of me—”
“No!” Emily said defiantly, pulling away. She felt her heart racing and beads of cold sweat forming across her neck.
“What’s wrong?”
The feeling was obvious to the child. She knew. At that moment, Emily understood everything. “I don’t want to go up there, Jane.” Emily took a step backward. “I’ll . . . ah . . .” She searched for a suitable reason. “I’ll fall.”
Jane stood back for a second. “You weren’t afraid to climb up on your roof.”
“Maybe I should have been,” Emily said quietly.
“Oh, God, Emily,” Jane said very seriously. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t allow fear to rule the rest of your life. Take my word for it, kid. It takes a lot of energy to be scared all the time. It wears you out. One day it’s a water tower, the next day you don’t want to leave your house.”
“You were scared back at my house. You didn’t want me to go outside.”
“Hey, there’s a big difference between being aware of bona fide trouble that’s right in front of you and being afraid of what you can’t see.”
Emily stared at Jane. “I think you’re afraid of what you can’t see.”
“Really? I think it’s the other way around. I think I’m not lucky enough to be blind.” Jane looked up at the tower. “You’re just nine and a half. You could nip this fear in the bud before it gets out of hand. Think about it.” Jane started up the ladder while Emily cautiously watched. “You see?” Jane said, turning her head back to Emily. “Just one step at a time.” When Jane reached the top, she stood up and took in the view. “Oh, Emily, I’m telling you. You’re missing a helluva view!”
“I can hear your voice echoing,” Emily yelled up to Jane, feeling slightly queasy.
Jane hooked her two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. The sound reverberated from across the mesa. The wind carried the sweet scent of the early summer. There was a moment of peacefulness until Jane happened to look down on the metal surface of the tower. Sunlight bounced hard off the exterior, blinding Jane with its piercing reflection. Suddenly, staccato images flashed in front of Jane. First, there was an explosion of blinding light quickly followed by an outstretched Glock. The wolf’s face flashed next before the odd appearance of the palm print with the backwards date, 10-24-99. Jane shook off