Amber by Dan-Dwayne Spencer (e book reader .TXT) 📕

street and leaned on the driver’s door, peering inside. We hurried back to Flower’s love van, not knowing what to expect.

“Hi there, Miss Flower,” said the fuzz.

“Hi Walter, How is your mother doing? I heard she had to go to a nursing home.”

“She’s better since your visit,” he replied.

We stood watching and waiting for the officer to arrest her—or something.

Flower noticed our apprehension and called over to us. “This is Walter Scoggins. We know each other from days past.”

Days past? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Why couldn’t Flower talk like a normal person?

Walter said, “Miss Flower was my nurse when I was hospitalized for cancer.” His grin grew wider. “I was only eight-years-old. I hardly knew what cancer was, but Flower made my stay at the hospital an adventure. We played games, and she gave me my medicine. I’ll never forget the day when the Doctor came in and said my tumors had shrunk and some had disappeared.”

Flower’s smile beamed radiantly. “You got well,”—she patted his hand—“didn’t you?” It sounded like the kind of thing a grandmother would say when she was making a point.

Walter glanced over at us. “To this day, I’m convinced Miss Flower was the reason my cancer went into remission.”

“Don’t be silly, Walter. Those doctors knew exactly what to do to help you, and besides, you were a great patient.” She reached up and almost touched his nose, stopping only an inch away.

We smiled and knowingly looked at each other. Walter might be in the dark about what happened to him, but we had no doubts.

His smile faded. “Miss Flower, please stay away from Sheriff Briggs. He is not acting his usual self these days. He has some kind of vendetta out for all the hippies—I mean residents of the commune, and for you in particular.” The deputy spat brown spit toward the road. “He changed after his accident back in March.” He shook his head. “Even his voice sounds different, and I swear, he could convince a toad frog he was a rabbit.”

“What do you mean?” Roger asked.

“He’s convinced the other department heads to let him have full discretionary control of their law enforcement personnel.” He spat again, before smiling, flecks of brown in his teeth. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Without a doubt, he is the most powerful individual in the county and it won’t be long till he has the entire state under his thumb. Anyone who calls and complains…well, he just talks to them for a while and they’re suddenly Sheriff Briggs’ fans. It’s like the man can do no wrong.”

“But he doesn’t have you fooled, does he, Walter?”

“No, ma’am not me and not some of the others neither. Henry Phillips…Miss Flower, you remember him? He was in the cancer unit with me. Well, he was also one of the deputies and had a lot to say about what Sheriff Briggs is doing. Then the strangest thing. The sheriff came in and said Officer Phillips had been accepted for transfer to the CIA. Who gets transferred from being an officer here in little Cherokee County straight to working in Washington DC for the CIA? I tell you who—nobody.”

“Didn’t he write to you?” Rose asked. “He is your friend, after all.”

“No, Ma’am. He hasn’t been heard from, and I fear the worst.” Unmistakable concern showed in his eyes. “There’s nothing any of us can do. We’re all afraid we’ll end up working for the CIA, in the same place Henry is.”

Roger leaned over to Jimmy and said, “He means six feet underground.”

“I know what he means, numbnuts,” Jimmy blustered.

“Anyway, look out for yourself, Miss Flower,” Walter warned. “You might consider moving the commune to another state. It’s what I would do if I were you.”

“We’re not moving as long as Paul owns the land. He’s even promised to bequeath it to us in his will. He made the commune what it is and without him, we’re nothing more than a group of ragtag hippies.”

“No, you’re not Miss Flower. I know exactly how special you are.” He touched the bill of his cap, smiled, and returned to his car.

Flower leaned my way and said, “If we’re careful, a gifted person, especially a healer, can help people without letting them know you are sharing your gift with them. Down through the years, I’ve learned, it turns out better if people in the outside world don’t know.”

I scratched my head. “I get it, but why? I wouldn’t expect people to understand any of this gifting business. Why would they care?”

All the answer I got was a smile. With the fuzz gone, we all piled into the van and headed for mysterious Eudora.

Chapter Eleven

Flechia

Jimmy was the first to lean over onto the van’s window and trail off into dreamland.

Rose scooted near him and rested her head on his shoulder before she too dozed off.

Roger rode shotgun and remained wide awake, entertaining Flower with his mouthy wit as she drove. He was, after all, the one who got the most rest on the road yesterday.

I struggled with the thought of sleep. The last time I slept, I had a dream about my parents, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t only a dream. There was something in their mystic conversation that made me think I had been seeing them for real. That was when I heard the term The Gift used for the first time.

What would happen if I tried to close my eyes for more than a moment? I didn’t know. Still, I yawned…I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The gentle rocking of the van and the vibration from the engine finally lulled me to sleep.

Where was I? Glancing around, I found myself standing in some dusty wilderness. On the