Page 1 of Knot His Beast
PART ONE
Part 1: The Past
CHAPTER 1
Octavian
11 years old
I never understoodwhat my grandmother meant when she called me anold soul. Not until now, anyway.
An old soul in a young body, wandering around, looking for purpose in a world I wasn’t made for. A world that wasn’t really ready for me.
It sounded like bullshit the first time she said it to me, and it still did the last time.
“I still think you’re crazy,” I whisper to her as I get to my knees. “I guess now, I can see that I’m the same kind of crazy.”
Lifting the lid off the coffee can, I set it aside then slip my hand into my pocket and pull out the crumpled bills. I straighten them out and fold them into three before tucking them into the can with the rest. It’s finally starting to get full. It took months of hiding it but I’m finally starting to see how worth it that was.
I replace the lid and look around, making sure no one is watching, then take a deep breath and shove my fingers into the loose dirt at my feet. I hold my breath as I dig down deeper thanbefore, the tiny grains scraping under my nails and pushing into my cuticles. I gag as a worm slips through my fingers but keep going until I’m satisfied my hard earned money will be safe and when I am, I shove the canister into the hole and bury it as quickly as possible.
“Definitely the same kind of crazy,” I say with a small chuckle as I get to my feet. I pick up my backpack and sling it over my shoulder then reach down to brush the dirt from my jeans.
“I don’t think this world was ready for either of us, Gran.” Adjusting the bag, I grip the straps tightly as I sigh. “You’re the lucky one.”
I reach out and pick a few leaves off the top of the cold granite then bend to brush the fresh grass clippings off the base. My fingers move to the deep lines carved into the stone, carefully tracing each letter and number as if committing them to memory.
Jones
Marlene M.
1949
Blinking a few times, I straighten and push my glasses up my nose with a sniffle and begin picking the dirt from my fingers. “I’ll make sure Mandy fills in the rest. Promise. See you soon.”
I back away slowly, trying not to disturb the fresh dirt anymore than I already have today.
Today and every day for the last week.
I walk the same path every time, step in the same shoe prints and kneel in the same spot so I don’t disturb my grandmother’s grave each time I visit.
I can’t say for sure, not one hundred percent, but I think this is the first time in her life she’s been at peace, and I don’t want to ruin that.
Shaking my head, I turn and head toward the front of the cemetery.
First time in her life, and she’s dead.
After twenty-seven years of Mandy, it makes sense.
I’ve only known that woman for eleven and I don’t think I’ve had one day I could callpeaceful. I can’t imagine going as long as Gran did.
I was angry at her for dying. Angry that she left me all alone with Mandy. We had plans, my grandmother and I. She didn’t know it, I never got the chance to tell her, but we did.
Walking a little faster, I move down the overgrown paths and weave between crumbling headstones until the rusted, iron gates come into view.
I was going to grow up and get out of here. Save money from teaching the other kids at Jerome’s. Hide it away until there was enough to leave. Then I’d find a quiet place, one I could make peaceful and safe. I’d make a real home, I’d get it all ready, and I’d come back for Gran when the time was right.
But she left first.
