Castles On The Sand Part 7

"Yeah," says Jean-Pierre.

"I had to ask."

"No you didn't," I say.

"Madison, I'll catch you later." Jean-Pierre clambers up onto the sidewalk and heads back towards campus where his car is in the parking lot.

Elder Britton glares after him. Then turns to me. "Okay, sorry if I came across the wrong way."

"You came across like you think my life is your business and I need a protector, which I don't."

"What happened to your face? Please tell me."

"He didn't hit me."

"I heard that. Who did?"

"What was all that stuff about racism?"

At that my brother scuffs his foot in the dirt. "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints didn't ordain blacks for a while. If you want to dig deeper into all of that, I'm sure I could find you some articles and stuff to read. But the thing is, G.o.d is not a racist, and we operate by revelation from G.o.d, so whatever His reason was for that, we can only guess. Black people being inferior is clearly not the reason."

Yeah, I think, that doesn't sound crazy... "Revelation from G.o.d, huh?"

"Yeah. You get that we're a religious organization, right? I thought we were pretty up front about that."

"I need to go to work."

"Can I walk with you?"

"I don't know, can you?" I climb up to the sidewalk and he follows me. From the way he behaves, I know he'd follow me no matter what I said.

"Who did that to your face?"

"I did. Walked into a door."

"I don't believe you."

I shrug. "Then don't."

"I care about you, okay? Please, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Stay out of my love life."

"Not a chance. Anything else?"

I pick up the pace.

"Madison, listen, that guy's bad news."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Speaking as another guy, him mocking me for wanting to protect you-"

"I don't need protection." I round on my brother and glare. "I don't even know you, so don't just show up in my life and tell me what to do."

"You got your face mashed in. You aren't a poster child for 'I can take care of myself.'"

I turn my back on him. He's just wasting my time.

"Listen, sister I only just found and am already having an argument with..."

I keep walking. The sound of running footsteps behind me only makes me walk faster.

"Wait. Slow down."

I speed up.

"Just... I wanted to talk to Mom too. Can you tell me where to find Mom?"

"She won't like that." I stop and turn.

He blinks as if I've jabbed him in the nose. I have to remind myself that for him, Mom is a close relative he remembers. For me, it's different. This guy telling me off might as well be my eighth cousin. Related, but who cares? I take a deep breath. "She doesn't want you to go back to your father with all your judgments about how we've done since she left."

I watch my brother process that. "I don't talk to... our dad. He'd be your father too."

"I'm a Lukas. I would guess that means-"

"No, I know we've got the same father. It's obvious. Mr. Lukas has dark hair and olive skin-"

"You know him?"

"Mom's old art teacher. He was my high school art teacher and I am really glad I didn't know you had his name. I have no idea what went down all those years ago, I just remember the fights and you and Mom leaving. His name came up, but I guess I didn't really think about what that meant at the time. I was too little."

"Well, anyway-"

"I'd like to see her, even if it'll upset her. I don't want to upset her, but I haven't seen her in fifteen years and, I just want to. Nothing will get back to Dad. I haven't spoken to him in three years. Didn't even call him on Christmas. We're estranged."

I know it's low of me to dump him on Mom, but he really is annoying me. "Thursday is when Mom does her deliveries to the art gallery and stuff. She'll be somewhere between our house and the Pelican Sky Gallery." I point to Ridge Road. "You know where that is?"

"I'll find it. Not exactly a lot of winding roads in this town."

"Okay, well... I gotta go to work."

"I'll come find you after. See you soon." He waves and jogs off towards Ridge Road.

I walk the rest of the way to work. Siraj looks up from where he sits behind the circulation desk. "How was school?"

"Fine." I sit down, put my backpack under the desk, and log into my computer.

At four, Kailie strolls in. "Okay, your long lost brother is hot."

"Where'd you see him?"

"Standing outside Jacksons, having a screaming fight with your mom."

"Oh."

"What's this?" says Siraj.

"Madison has a long lost brother who just showed up in town."

"Was this before I asked you how your day was?"

"Yeah," I say.

"What does it take to be noteworthy in your life? This falls under, 'fine', as an answer?"

"I found out about him days ago," I say.

"I'm pretty sure I ask you how your day is every day." His eyes grow serious, though. He's joking around, but I can see he's grasped that this is what upset me on Sat.u.r.day.

"What are they screaming about?" I ask.

"He says she's a bad role model. She says he's a cultist." She pauses, and scans her eyes in the air as she goes over her memory. "I think that's pretty much it. They just use different words for the same stuff over and over."

"How long did you listen in?"

"For all of it. You can hear them from Ridge Road."

"Great. So the whole town's gonna be filling me in?"

"Pretty much. But back to him being hot."

"I think he's older."

"Like, how much older?"

I realize I have no idea. "He remembers me being one?"

"Oh, that really narrows it down."

The door swings open and Elder Britton strides in, cheeks flushed. At the sight of Kailie, he bobs his head in greeting, then turns to me.

"How old are you?" she demands.

"Twenty-one."

"See, way older," I say.

I now understand why the panel of wood at the front of a desk is called a kickshield. But for it, Kailie would've kicked me in the shins, hard. "Elder Britton-"

"John," he corrects me.

"John, Kailie, Kailie, John."

"How long you in town for?" Kailie asks.

"Approximately twenty minutes."

"Madison, go," says Siraj. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Even though I am not really grateful, I say, "Thank you."

"No, thank you. You keep things interesting around here. What's next? Someone going to ask for a book other than Fifty Shades of Grey?"

"Just order a copy and put it out on the front table," I suggest.

"This is a public library. We do have standards. I'm not ordering p.o.r.n."

"Glad to hear someone's taking a stand," says John.

I do not want to spend another minute with this guy, let alone twenty, but I pack up my things and follow him out.

Once we're outside again, we stop and look at each other. I can still see the resemblance to my mom, now made stronger by his beaten down, spent demeanor. "I completely screwed this up," he says. "I've been acting like Dad, bossing people around. I'm sorry, okay? I don't want to be like him."

I fold my arms across my chest.

"I'm gonna start over here. Madison, it is amazing to see you again. You remember Black Bear?"

"No."

"Your favorite teddy bear?"

"I don't have a teddy bear."

"I know, you gave him to me. The night before you left I was crying over your crib and you handed me Black Bear and gave me a big hug. You couldn't even talk, but you were so sweet. It was your favorite teddy bear but you were adamant that I keep him. I brought him on my mission, even."

"Did you get mocked for it?"

"Not when I told people the story, no. I've prayed every morning and every night for fifteen years to find you, and when I finally do, I come tell you off. I'm sorry."

I shrug. "It's fine."

"Please tell me what happened to your face."

"A girl at school kicked me."

"Why?"