The Keeper

Chapters 3 - 6

Chapter 3

Brindle sighed and opened her backpack, it wasn’t even noon yet and she was exhausted.  The mornings events… the events of the past few days kept playing in her mind like a bad movie, she wanted to crash, but was afraid if she did she’d dream dreams of the past again.  Dreams of pain and torture, of loss, dreams of demons and other mythical types, dreams of hurt and despair and helplessness, Brindle wasn’t sure if she could face that again.  She wanted to sleep the sleep of peace, to wake knowing she’d slept well and not been afraid of what she’d met or imagined while in the state between wakefulness and sleep.

She wanted to say why me!  Actually she wanted to scream it out at the top of her lungs, but knew better, it wouldn’t change anything, too much seemed to have started changing already and she still had no clue as to what was going on.

Brindle pulled out the package Father James had given her and rested it on her lap.  She sat for a moment just looking at it, knowing she didn’t want to know what was in it, but also knowing she had no choice but to open the package and find out.  She sat up straighter and looked closer at the package.  It had string, no not string more like some kind of twine wrapped around it and tied off in a doubled knotted bow.  She had no idea what the twine was made of and was careful undoing it not wanting to break or fray it in any way.

She folded the twine and put it next to her on the couch then started working on the brown paper covering it.  Carefully tugging at the corners where the paper had been taped down, the paper was old, in good condition but old and had a kind of wax or oil texture to it.  The paper reminder her of an oil skin or something similar that would have been used long ago to keep a precious object clean and dry, protected from time and the elements.

As the paper opened on her lap Brindle could feel her heart pick up a beat.  She was excited; she could feel the anticipation of discovery even thought she knew that what ever she found would probably change her world in some strange way.

Brindle took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then pulled apart the paper and looked at the book on her lap.  It looked like one of the old diaries or journals she’d been assessing in the archives, the type priests used back in the day when they travelled and needed to keep a journal of where they’d been and what had occurred there.

The cover was black leather; it was aged and cracked in many areas. It was stitched around the edges with what looked like silver thread and in the centre she could see the outline of where a silver cross had been embossed.  There wasn’t much silver there now, just the outline, in fact it looked as if it had been covered over with something and she made a mental note to check it out further.

The book was old, possibly ancient and Brindle’s fingers shook as she reached to touch the cover, to get a feel for what might be written inside it.  This was it!  Brindle felt as if she were on a precipice… standing on the every edge of a cliff so high that if she fell she may never touch the earth again.  This was a defining moment, a moment that would change everything!

She touched the cover with the tip of a finger and felt an instant connection with the book.  It felt strange, but it also felt as if she had found an old friend.  It took her a moment to realise she had tears streaming down her cheeks.  She never cried, well almost never and if she did it wouldn’t be over a stupid book, so why was she crying now, why did she feel so connected to this book?

She needed a tissue and reaching for one found the tissue box beside her.  She dried her eyes and blew her nose, tossing the tissue into the little waste paper bin she had close by.  She looked at the tissue box and frowned.  “How did this get here?”  She said to herself and picked it up as if to make sure it really was there.