Tracks
Chapter Two

I sat in my bed until the sun rose. It wasn’t like I wanted to risk going back to sleep again. After leaving the tracks and the stranger who haunted them, I’d found my way back to 113 Egan Street and slipped in through the back door. No one came out when I made my way—noisily—back to my bedroom, and I was grateful. What would I have said? That I ran away in the dead of night, made my way all the way to the old train station, and had a conversation with a stranger that wasn’t unlike Aaron’s killer? Aunt Brenna would have a fit and I’d definitely already had enough stress for one night.

I got up and showered around seven, applying a heavy dosage of peroxide to my wounds. The blood had dried by the time I’d gotten back, and scraping it off had opened half the cuts all over again. I considered wrapping my hands in gauze, but then I’d have to explain and that was the last thing I wanted. When I started hearing the sounds of pots and pans in the kitchen, I threw on my jeans and an old green tee-shirt and headed downstairs. Aunt Brenna’s voice floated up to me from the kitchen.

I hesitated on the stairs. She was singing. An old Irish folk song Ma used to sing to Aaron and me when we were kids—usually after we’d hurt ourselves. I glanced at my palms, then toward the kitchen. I couldn’t decide if it was dread that filled me on hearing her, or wistfulness for my ma’s own singing.

“Ah, Leslie, there ye are, lass. Pull up a chair; breakfast’s almost ready,” Brenna said, smiling over her shoulder. Her long auburn hair fell in waves down her back, curling just slightly at the tips, and her eyes a bright Irish green. She came over with a skillet, and slid some eggs onto my plate. Then she nodded to the platter in the middle of the table. “Bacon and sausage there, coffee on the counter, if ye like.”

“Coffee?” Leila chirped, her long blonde hair streaming behind her as she breezed into the kitchen. “Who the bloody hell wants coffee first thing?”

Brenna gave her daughter a look. “Leslie might. According to yer Aunt Meara, Americans are very fond of coffee.”

I smiled tightly, already sick of this mother-daughter affection. I loved my folks and we had always been a tight family but this was just too much. There was a limit to how much love there could be, especially at eight in the morning. “I’ve actually never been big into coffee,” I told them. “But thanks.”

“See?” Leila quipped, going to the sink and filling the kettle with water. “She’s a tea person, just like her mum.”

I cleared my throat. “Uh…no.”

Leila paused and turned to face me. “What? Then what do you drink?”

“Gatorade,” I said as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Juice. Soda.” I shrugged.

Leila tilted her head to the side. “For breakfast?”

“For anything.”

Brenna chuckled at her daughter’s perplexed expression. “Ye’ll have to forgive Lei,” she teased, filling the other two plates on the table with the remaining eggs. “Tea’s very common on this side of the ocean; especially around these parts. Takes the lass a little bit of effort to understand that.” She reached over and ruffled Leila’s hair as she sat down.

Leila laughed. “That and the fact Mum’s never bought soda in my life. We’ll pick some up when we go into town later,” she offered.

I lifted a brow, noticing how the words came out more as statement than suggestion. “Town?” I repeated.

“Aye, and we’re going.” She smiled. “Ye don’t think ye’re spending your first day in Ireland cooped up indoors, do you? We’re meeting the others at Lincoln’s house in twenty minutes.”

My jaw dropped open. Was she serious? I already had to be in Ireland, now I had to do stuff too? My life wasn’t about to be turned on its head just to suit the whims of a bubbly Irish chick. “Hang on, Leila—” I began.

But she shook her head. “You’ll love them,” she insisted with a grin. “Lincoln is our football star and Owen is obsessed with music. Aunt Meara said you liked music, don’t you?”

I gaped at her. “Yeah, I like music, but—”

“Great! Twenty minutes, then. Eat up!” And she danced back across the kitchen to pour the tea.

I could only stare after her. If this chick thought I was going to follow orders than she seriously had another thing coming. I promised my parents I’d come to Ireland; I never agreed to sightseeing. The only thing on my list today, other than crawling right back into bed and sleeping the summer away, was making a quick stop at the railroad again, to see if it was really there at all.

And to see if I can replace any evidence of that stranger.

But as for “hanging with the guys,” I’d stopped doing that the day I’d lost the only one that mattered. The guy at the tracks—let’s just call him Tracks, for the moment—was the first non-family member I’d been around since the funeral.

“Look Leila, I’m not really in the mood for—” But my cousin just waved her hand, effectively blowing me off before I even finished my sentence. I gaped at her as she settled herself back down in her seat, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. She took a sip and then returned her attention to her food as if I hadn’t even spoken.

I glanced at Brenna, stunned, but my aunt just gave me a sympathetic smile. Apparently, Leila was used to getting her way. I gritted my teeth. Fantastic. So Brenna hadn’t even tried to temper her daughter; how big of a fit would Leila throw the second she realized I wasn’t easily swayed?

I stabbed a piece of sausage, not at all remorseful as I pictured her face. It was gonna be a damn long summer if I was going to have to fight her tooth and nail every day.

Leila finished before I did and, to my great relief, went scurrying off to her room, leaving her mother and me to eat in peace. I watched her go, feeling a strange sort of relief when I knew she was gone. There was something about Leila that didn’t sit right with me, that bothered me. Her peppy attitude and only-child syndrome certainly didn’t help any. Since I’d stepped off the plane and was nearly wrestled to the ground by Leila’s enthusiasm, I wasn’t comfortable in her presence. It made about as much sense as the existence of Tracks had last night.

“She’s so happy ye’re here,” Brenna’s voice broke into my thoughts.

I turned away from the door and back to my aunt. The look in her eyes was wistful and…a little bit tearful. She smiled and reached out, covering my hand with hers. I wanted to cringe and pull away; I’d never been close to Brenna, in part because of the distance. But after what happened to Aaron, I also had no interest in making a connection with anyone here. When I went back home, I didn’t intend to see her or Leila again.

But the tears in her eyes kept me from taking my hand back.

“When she heard about Aaron,” Brenna went on softly, “she was devastated. The whole time you were on the plane, she was worried something would happen and she’d never see you again either. She’s so excited ye came, lass,” Brenna said again, squeezing my hand slightly.

I looked away. True or not, I couldn’t honestly say I was happy to see them; I was a bit sick to my stomach at the thought of the upcoming weeks. But I knew my aunt was waiting for me to respond in some way.

I tried to say something nice, but the words choked in my throat. Carefully, I cleared it, but my eyes still stung before I could stop them. I looked down at my plate. “Uh, A-Aaron had a lot of fun here,” I said quietly, knowing at least that part was true. “H-he’d be glad I came too.”

“Ye know, yer brother made a few friends while he was here, Leslie. Maybe ye should go visit them.”

It was all I could do not to get up and leave. She wanted me to visit his friends? My dead brother’s friends from a year ago? Didn’t she get it? I wasn’t here to be sociable. I didn’t want to meet the people Aaron was only able to know for three months. I didn’t want to do all he’d done, or see what he’d seen. He was supposed to show me all that himself; he was supposed be here to walk me through it all. Why would I want to do it all on my own? Or worse, with Leila.

“I know it’s tough, Leslie.”

I looked up, surprised by the emotion in her voice. I was more shocked when I saw the tears on her cheeks. “I know what it’s like to lose the person ye love the most.” She took my hand in both of hers. “Ye were too young when Thomas died,” Aunt Brenna said softly. “Ye and Lei were only three; yer brother was only four. None of ye remember him.” Her voice was shuddering but held firm. “He was a brilliant man and he meant the world to me. When he died, I didn’t think I’d be able to go on.”

My breath caught. It had been a long time since I’d heard anything about Uncle Thomas. Ma didn’t like talking about her brother, and I’d never spoken to Brenna long enough for it to come up. I didn’t know much about the uncle I’d never met, except my ma had loved him a lot—and still did—and that Aaron had apparently been a spitting image of him. She used to tease that we reminded her of her relationship with Thomas when they were our age. That Maera and Thomas had once been the Leslie and Aaron of the seventies. But…other than the occasional comment, and remembering him on his birthday and death day, Ma never brought him up. So, I wasn’t sure what to say now.

“I had Leila,” Brenna said quietly, “which made every day a little bit easier. She reminded me of yer uncle in a very subtle way; just having her around made the days a little more bearable. It took a lot of time, Leslie, but she helped me move on. I could love her, and watch that love grow every day, without ever losing or weakening the love I felt for her father.

“That’s what ye need to do, lass.” She smiled a little, a comfort I hadn’t expected to replace. “Ye know yer brother will never be gone; ye know he’ll always love you no matter what, and you him. But ye’ve got to take the time to let him go. Ye’ve got to remember…there are others who love ye and who need ye to love them.”

I was silent a moment, gazing at my aunt. I had never thought of it that way. That it was now my turn to experience something she and my ma had felt fourteen years ago. That they had gone through it, and were now going through it again. It had never occurred to me that I wasn’t the first of Callaghan blood to lose a brother.

And for a second, just a small, split second, it made the pain retreat, made me want to hold onto Brenna a little bit tighter.

But then I remembered what was so different about our situations—why I couldn’t let myself try to move on.

Aaron’s death wasn’t an accident; it has been planned.

I took a deep breath, forced myself to face my aunt. “I’m sorry about Thomas, Brenna,” I said, real sincerity in my voice. “And I’m sorry I never thought of how similar our losses are. But I’m never going to let Aaron go.” I shook my head, stopping her before she could say anything. “Aaron wasn’t just my brother or the person I loved the most. There’s so much more to him than anyone can understand.” I broke off there, because there was no way to go on.

I squeezed her hand gently and pushed through the tears. “I’ll be a good sport while I’m here, Brenna. I’ll play Leila’s game—” which might kill me ”—and I’ll try to be good about it. But that’s all I can do.”

I walked away, knowing that my words had still stung, no matter how I tried to soften them. I’d been honest, though, and they couldn’t ask any more of me than that. There was only so much I would do for them, so much I could do for anyone anymore.

Just as I made it to the staircase, Leila came to a bounding halt at the top and smiled at me. I closed my eyes and sighed. Damnit. Let the games begin.

“Ye ready?” she asked cheerfully, and I heard her make her way downstairs. Opening my eyes, I found her now standing only a couple steps in front of me.

She’d pulled her hair back, clipped the blonde up into a tail at the nape of her neck; she’d added a layer of lip gloss and some blush to her face—two female items I’d never understood. Dressed as she was in a jean skirt and flowered top, I was half wondering whether she thought she was going on a date. Either she was trying to look good for someone, or we were headed to a party she’d forgotten to mention.

“Uh…”

“The lads are meeting us over at Chris’ house,” she said with a smile. “Three blocks that way.” She pointed to the right.

I blinked, hoping beyond hope that I could still figure out a way to get out of this, before giving up altogether. Not only did my awesome lying skills seem to die with Aaron, but I had the very distinct feeling that I could say I had pneumonia and a parasite, and Leila would still make me go out and play.

So I admitted defeat and shrugged. “Lead the way,” I said, gesturing.

With a smile and a roll of her eyes, Leila grabbed my hand and tugged me out of the house, down the dirt path of her drive until we hit cobblestones. Then she slipped her hands into the pockets of her skirt and sighed.

“So, how did ye sleep?” she wondered, glancing over at me, smiling.

I shrugged again. “Fine.”

Leila chuckled. “Ye might be fooling me mum, Les, but ye’re certainly not fooling me.”

I stopped short, ignoring every word she’d said except one. “Don’t call me that,” I told her sternly.

Leila paused, peering at me in confusion. “What?” she questioned.

“That name. Don’t call me that name.”

She didn’t seem to understand. I wasn’t sure what was so complex about it, unless she was every bit the blonde that she looked. “I—but that’s what Aaron called you the whole time he—”

“Exactly,” I cut in sharply. “Aaron. As in the only person who’s ever called me that, ever.” I took a step toward her, as threatening as I’d initially thought Tracks was last night. “Don’t call me that again,” I said quietly.

Leila stayed where she was, watching me for a very long time. I started walking again, because I was getting tired of the looks and the pity, and hoped maybe if I walked far enough, she’d get the message and leave me the hell alone. But instead, she did worse: she stayed put.

“Ye can’t keep running, Leslie.”

I snorted and kept moving.

“I know ye ran last night,” she called, “and, though I know it wasn’t fer me, I’ll thank ya for coming back. But now’s not the time to be running away. Yer folks already lost one child; they don’t need to lose another.”

I came up short.

Slowly, Leila made her way over to me. “Old cottage,” she reminded me, “loud boards. I heard ya pacing half the night. I went in to check on ye, and you were gone.” She sighed and came to a halt in front of me. “I know it’s tough, but ye can’t be running off at a time like this. Not so soon.”

“What’s it to you?” I snapped, the words coming out before I could stop them. But once they were free, I made no move to take them back. “What I do doesn’t concern you.”

“You’re my cousin,” Leila said firmly. “Everything ye do concerns me, and vice versa. We’re family, Leslie. We might not be siblings, but we are family, and I do care about you.”

I was silent. Suddenly, my words sounded a thousand times harsher.

“I can’t say I know exactly how ye’re feeling,” Leila went on, “but I do know one thing: I lost my cousin. He was killed by a madman in the middle of the night and I never got to say goodbye.” She licked her lips. “I wasn’t there—I wasn’t even on the same continent. But I cried for days.” She sighed. “Every now and then, I still cry. I know yer hurting, Leslie, but ye’re not the only one.”

“It’s different,” I said, my muscles tense, my voice tight.

“Maybe. But we all lost him, Leslie. Ye’re not as alone as ye’d like to believe.”

I stared at her for a long time before I finally felt the tension ebb from my bones. I turned and sank down onto the ground, letting my legs sprawl out in front of me as if I’d been shoved. More graceful, Leila sat beside me.

“It just feels like I am, Leila,” I murmured quietly, almost to myself. I stared at nothing—the cobbles, the tree across the street, dust mites in the air—and listened to the words that fell out of my mouth. “Every day, I just feel so alone. I can’t explain it. He was everything to me. When he died, I died. And I can’t explain it any better than that we were one person; ying and yang, each half of the other. We weren’t just incredibly alike. We were one mind. One soul. It…it’s like Peter and his shadow. Two facets, one self. But I can’t just sew him back on with soap or a needle.”

Leila reached for my hand but I pulled away. “I’m here,” she whispered meaningfully.

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter who’s here,” I told her softly. “All that matters is who’s not.”

Leila bit her lip and put her arm around my shoulders. It seemed there would be no escaping her touch today. She laid her head against mine and hugged me tight to her. “I’m sorry, Leslie,” she murmured. “I’m so, so sorry.”

I looked down at my hands, hearing the same words in Aaron’s voice echo in the back of my mind. Everyone’s sorry, but no one understands. “Yeah,” I said anyway.

“Do you think ye could try, lass?”

I swallowed and looked over. “Try what?”

She smiled a little. “Try to relax? Have a little fun? Maybe…maybe even see Ireland the way yer brother did?”

I wanted to say no, but the word wouldn’t come out. For all Leila’s spoiled behavior, I couldn’t honestly say she didn’t care. She wanted to understand. Maybe that could be enough for now. Or, at least, enough to get me through the next few weeks.

“And what did he see, Leila?” I wondered, assenting once again.

She brushed a strand of purple hair behind my ear and kissed my cheek. “Why don’t ye replace out for yerself?”

I knew that was her way of getting me moving again. I hesitated another fraction of a second before finally taking a deep breath and nodding. “All right,” I agreed at length. “Let’s keep going.”

Leila jumped to her feet and held her hands out to me. As I let her pull me to my feet, I noticed something in her I hadn’t noticed before. Though she smiled, showing off those pearly whites of hers, her eyes were sad. She was grieving, just as Brenna was, just as I was. Just as Ma and Dad still were. Maybe she was right about one thing: while I was here at least, I could try to connect to the pieces my brother might’ve left behind. If nothing else, maybe that would help me get through the next three months without going mental.

Abruptly, the memory of the night before came flooding back to me. The fine line between madness and wonder... Maybe the wonder would be my saving grace.

I let Leila lead me down the street, past houses that were identical to her cottage, but I barely saw any of them. My mind was back at the railroad, back in the forest, wondering where the shadow who was Tracks was now. He’d been kind, I was able to admit in the early light of morning. Genuinely sorry when he realized I was mourning a brother and not some lost love. Truly concerned without reason for a complete stranger.

I wasn’t so completely gone that I didn’t consider whether I’d imagined him; whether I’d been so desperate for something that I had conjured him up in my mind. But the fear I’d felt, the awe at the first sign of the cigarette, and the smell of the smoke… Well, those were all things I couldn’t fake.

Maybe this was what I needed, I told myself as Leila tugged me up the steps to a small blue and white front door. The wonder that would keep me sane had found me in the form of a shadow in the dark of the night. Perhaps that little hint of insanity was just what I needed to keep me from succumbing completely.

Or maybe I was already too far gone.

Whichever the case, I was now more determined than ever to get back to those tracks the moment Leila had been satisfied. With any luck, Tracks would be as curious about Wendy as I was about Peter.

Leila walked right through the side door without so much as a knock, and hung up her purse on a coat rack nearby. I lifted a brow, trying to imagine what would happen if someone had waltzed through my front door without a sound of homecoming.

I’d probably have taken a bat to her skull, I realized with a smirk.

Leila led me through the stormy blue foyer toward the stairs; halfway up, I finally drew the line and tugged her back.

“Hang on, you can’t just wander around someone else’s home. I don’t care who it is; shit like this is how people end up with broken bones. Haven’t you ever seen Home Alone?"

Leila laughed and shook her head, blue eyes twinkling. “First off, those blokes were burglars. Second, Christopher’s mum always lectures me when I knock, claiming family has no need. Third, I’ve been here often enough that I might as well live here myself.”

I lifted a brow. “What, you guys best buds or something?”

That made her laugh again. “Oh, Leslie.” She waved her hand in amusement. It took her a few moments to realize I wasn’t getting whatever joke she thought I was cracking. “Oi,” she said slowly. “Wait, are ye serious, lass?”

“As a heart attack.”

“Leslie, its Chris. Christopher McKinnon.”

I waited.

“My boyfriend.”

Realization dawned on me. “Oh! Chrissy!”

“Chrissy?”

“Yeah. That’s what Aaron—” I broke off then, remembering exactly what Aaron had said to me.

Yeah, and Leila’s BF…he’s an interesting kid.

Yeah? I’d asked, helping him unpack his suitcase by balling up his t-shirts and shooting them into the basketball hoop over his closet door. He hung each one up after I’d either scored or he’d back boarded for me. How so?

Aaron had laughed. He’s kinda a…well, they’d call him a prick, he said. We’d call him something along the lines of dick.

Ha! Little Leila’s dating a douche?

It’s not even that he’s a douche, he’s just…kinda full of himself sometimes. Pretentious, you could say. He adores our cuz, that’s for sure, but he definitely thinks he’s God’s next messiah or something.

I’d snorted, scoring with his bright neon green skate shirt. Well…guess he’s just gonna have to meet me then. I’ll knock him down a few pegs.

Aaron had laughed then, knowing full well I’d do it if tested. From then on, he’d always referred to the kid as Chrissy, never Chris. Said the guy wasn’t worth such a strong male name, because he was obviously overcompensating for something. Guess I was finally going to be able to witness the kid in all his…prickness.

I cleared my throat when I realized what I’d almost admitted all that to my cousin—the same cousin I’d just had “a moment” with five minutes ago. I corrected myself quickly. “Aaron mentioned some kids called him that. He, uh, said Chris was nice though.”

Leila smirked, not believing me for a second.

Smart girl.

“Well, anyway, Chris and his parents always tell us to walk right on in. So we do. It’s not a big deal.”

“We?” I asked, releasing her at last and following as she headed upstairs.

She nodded, leading me down the second floor hall to a room at the very end. . “We. Me, Lincoln and Owen.”

And of course, Leila of the perfect timing, opened the door just as the words were out of my mouth so, right away, I got a good look at the “we” she spoke of.

“Oi! It’s Leila!” one of the kids shouted, lounging on his back on the bed, hands resting beneath his head. I lifted a brow as I got a good look at his soccer gear. He was dressed head to foot in the name of some group called Manchester United.

“How ya been this fine morn, love?” he went on, his British accent clashing with the Irish I was starting to get used to.

Leila laughed, closing the door behind us. “Brilliant. And how’re you, my dear, Lincoln?”

He grinned. “Dandy. Did you bring food?” He looked like a puppy deprived of thirst.

She giggled. “Not today. Oh, don’t pout, I figure we’ll grab lunch in the village today.”

Immediately, the pout disappeared at the reassurance of food. Then Lincoln looked at me. “I know you!” He sat up, and I instinctively took a step back. I was half convinced he was going to lunge at me in his excitement. “Lei hasn’t stopped talking about you for days! Leslie, isn’t it?” He rose quickly and held out a hand.

I nodded, surprised to replace I was smiling completely against my will. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

He grinned. “This is Owen and Chris,” he introduced, gesturing first to the brown-haired boy sitting on the window seat, and then to the six foot guy who’d already moved to Leila’s side.

Right away, I understood what Aaron had meant by his comments about the latter. I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with cockiness and everything to do with the sweater vest and button-up Leila’s boyfriend was currently wearing. Aaron and I had always been super judgmental when it came to clothes—after all, he was the epitome of a skater and I was the exact opposite of a girl. It was natural for us to laugh in the face of clothing norms.

I smiled and shook Chris’ hand, then Owen’s—Owen, of the ripped jeans and faded Beatles t-shirt. I immediately liked the latter more.

“Hi,” I said, my smile now more out of politeness than ease. I wasn’t all that comfortable with introductions since they usually led to awkward silences. Lincoln was the first exception I’d met in years; I could almost believe that he actually did know me.

“I take it Leila’s prepared you for the day ahead of us?” he asked, falling back down on the bed and looking up at me.

I lifted a brow. “No...” I looked at her. “She hasn’t.”

Leila smiled.

“Well, lesson number one in Leila School,” Lincoln said. “When she says she wants to go into the village, that usually means she wants to go shopping.”

My jaw dropped. Owen chortled and leaned back against the windows, his shaggy hair falling across his hazel eyes and brushing the tip of a slightly crooked nose. “I take it that’s a no, lass?”

“Shopping? Like…shopping?” I turned to my cousin. “Now, I know you know taking me shopping is suicide.”

Leila smirked. “Yours or mine?”

“Both. Murder-suicide.”

Lincoln laughed but I shot him a glare.

“Oi, don’t get mad at my friend,” she chastised teasingly. “I’m not shopping for sport today, Leslie; I’m shopping for you. What better way to show you Calaway than by taking you to all the best places in Calaway?”

“All the best places?” I shot back, folding my arms across my chest. “If I remember correctly, Calaway consists of a bar, an Irish ABC, a church, and a castle. And the list ends there.”

Leila chuckled and Chris shook his head, his arm sliding around her waist.

“Close, but not quite.” He smiled and I paused. Oh yeah, okay. Seeing it now. The slight turn-up of the nose; the subtle condescension in his voice. Beep, beep, beep: pretentious ass coming. “We’ve also got a couple clothing shops, a seamstress, a few good pubs, a record shop, a florist…”

I snorted. “Great. Now I feel better. What about a hospital?”

“Over in Galway,” Owen piped up. “It’s only a fifteen minute drive so…slim chance of death.” He winked.

“What about a police force?” I wanted to know. “Gotta have PD, right?”

“Aye, and we do,” Leila assured me. “The garda is down by the water, about a mile and a half from the boat rental. They like to keep an eye on Bay and shop alike.”

I looked among the four of them, taking in their expressions and words, and realized that not a single one of them noticed the absurdity of their statements. How could a town that housed barely two dozen establishments, one neighborhood, and not a single doctor’s office properly function?

Oh yeah. I was definitely on the brink of some sort of madness here. And I still had three months of it left to endure.

Lincoln started chuckling then, and I looked back at him to see he was watching me. “Your head about to explode, darling?”

“It’s definitely kinda scrambled right now.”

“Well, it can rearrange later,” Leila said abruptly, slipping out of Chris’ hold, snagging a jacket from his closet. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us. Time to get started.”

“And the firing squad comes now or later? You know, just so I’m prepared.”

Leila rolled her eyes. “September,” she deadpanned and took my hand to drag me out the door.