Dating Father Time's Daughter (Book 1)

Chapter 35 (1/2): Disastrous Deals

For Inertia, weekends ended too early.

Her hand tightly hugged the metal handle of the suitcase as she carried it down the stairs behind her. The siren-alarm of her phone severed her from her dreams while the sun was still yawning. Her initial thought was to silently dress and tip-toe out of the house in an effort to not wake her family, but distance disrupted memory.

The house was alive at 7am. She saw her brothers leaving for work, empty cereal boxes sitting on top of the trashcan, and the local meteorologist giving the weekly forecast on the living room television screen. Running water formed an orchestra in the old pipes of the house. She heard sinks rinsing bowls, toilets flushing, and showers spraying sleep hungry bodies.

It dawned on her that she forgot how Monday mornings were in her household. She had grown accustomed to the haphazard sleep schedule of college life that removed the word "routine" from her vocabulary. Perhaps weekends ended too early for everyone?

She conducted a mental check of her items before undoing the first lock on the door. Her subway back to Manhattan was scheduled to depart at 8:30am. It was crucial that she left early since the trip to the station was going to be by foot. One of her brothers was kind enough to offer her a ride in his jalopy, but that option involved her waking up at 4am. Even more, she didn't want to burden him. She assured everyone that walking was no issue.

Of course, Inertia's family had no knowledge of her Time Keeper abilities. While she knew that she could make quick work of any possible threat, her family was oblivious. This difference resulted in her receiving a number of high eye-brows and other puzzled looks from her family. Nevertheless, they relented.

Just as her finger hovered over the last lock, she heard rushing footsteps.

"Leaving without saying goodbye?" asked her mother with a smile and two hands behind her back.

Inertia turned away from the lock and smiled. She said her goodbyes the other night. Although she planned to repeat her farewells in the morning, the early bustle of movement around the house caused her to abandon that plan.

"I'll be back for the next holiday break" started Inertia, "It felt great to be back home. I needed this."

Her mother swayed from one side to the other and kept her hands hidden behind her back. She nodded her head and answered her daughter's words with a smile.

"I want you to take this back to campus" said her mother. Her arms were stretched out in front of Inertia. Between her cupped hands was the Ikenga.

Inertia blinked at the shrine figure, "But, you need it for the home."

"You think a home is just a house?" asked her mother, "Your brothers are my home. Our family is my home. You are my home."

Her mother stepped forward with the Ikenga in hand. Inertia obliged and scooped the figure into her grasp. The smoothness of the wood-carved figure surprised her.

"I'll keep it safe," said Inertia.

Her mother shook her head, "No. Ikenga will keep you safe."

Inertia pressed the figure into her abdomen. She wondered if her mother could sense that something was different about her. That unexplainable parental intuitiveness that heightened parents' awareness of their children when they sought internal and external places to hide.

Then, a second thought emerged. Did her mother sense a bad omen? Was she covertly warning her to keep her guard up? These questions continued to mount as she safely tucked the Ikenga into her bookbag and undid the final lock. She pulled the door open and stepped outside.