Chapter Two

Bonds

Dante

“Hey kid, what’re you doing here? You get five days of bereavement leave—you should take your last day.” Dante’s boss hollered behind him as he scanned the tracking tag on his hard hat to clock in.

Dante took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder at Ben Harris, his Foreman.

Ben was a robust man with graying hair and an awkward limp from where a chunk of the mountain landed on his leg a few years back. He had everyone’s respect around the mine, and around town. Born and raised in Blackwood Hills. Daddy was a miner. Granddaddy, too. Both died before fifty. Ben was pushing sixty now. A testament to the better safety protocols in the field.

Mining was safer now than before, to be sure. But coal mining was still a dangerous occupation with a long and perilous history. The average person had no idea and the companies kept it that way. Why? Because the States coal industry was worth about eighteen billion in market value, and because coal is about twenty-two percent of the United States’ source of electricity, down from thirty-nine percent in 2014.

Dante understood the numbers and why coal mining was necessary. He also saw the economic gain the corporations were reaping and the history of the bloody, corrupt mining industry. And experience taught him that once the mine had nothing left to offer, the corporation that supplied jobs to the entire town would pack up and leave, devastating the county.

That’s what had happened to his hometown. That’s what would happen to Blackwood.

He’d been backed into a corner when he’d gotten that felony and one of the only jobs that would provide a stable income for him was the mine–so to the mines he went.

Now he understood better what numbers couldn’t have told him.

It’s an honor to work the mines. You’d never find more genuine, compassionate, humble people anywhere else. One of Kentucky's slogans was ‘coal keeps the lights on’ and the miners were damn proud of that, as they should be. It was hard work. Dangerous. But the people made it bearable. Worth it.

Dante loved it. The people, not the job.

Because at the end of the day nobody down in those mines ever forgets that they’re just trying to provide for their families and get back home to them. And they all looked out for each other to make sure that happened. It was a family. These men were his brothers, and he loved them the same as he would his own flesh and blood.

“I’ll be alright, I just want to work.” He nodded despite the dark bags under his eyes. He’d gotten about two hours sleep before Beth had called him four nights ago and hadn’t been able to get much more each night since. “I may need extra time coming up for court, anyhow.”

Dante came in because he didn’t want to sit at home, unable to do anything about the situation with the kids.

He didn’t want to think about Beth having to go to school, or Oliver crying out for his momma in the foster home, scared and confused. He just wanted to work until he was too tired to think, at least until court.

Because thinking was creating a heavy sadness in his chest he didn’t think would let up any time soon and every time he started down that rabbit hole he ended up on the floor.

“Mack’s uncle is a family court lawyer— if you’re needin’ one he’ll probably be able to get you a good rate. Them youngins need to be with their own kin.” Mr. Harris clapped him a couple times on the back. “Let me know if you’re needing to come back up—ain’t nobody gonna be upset if you need to take another day and the unit isn’t going too deep, we’ve got the continuous digger built. We’re starting that new route today.”

Dante nodded as they got to the lift, hopping on with a few others. Mark’s uncle was already his lawyer, and he wasn’t good at his job. “Yes sir, thank you.”

Tawa

“How long have Sunakian souls been reincarnating in this region?”

Tawa blinked, he’d been pulled from his meditation when Brahma materialized into his home without so much as a knock. Tawa had known Brahma was in his territory for a few years. It was customary to say hello when entering another sibling's territory, at the very least. Now Brahma was too late for hellos.

“Go away Brahma, I’ve not sent you an invitation. You should be in your own territory.”

“I’m going by Bram now,” he flipped the tails of his long coat back, releasing a handful of red balloons in the room, and took a seat right in front of Tawa on the floor, looking around, “--would it kill you to put some color in here? It’s so… blindingly white. Now I’m glad I took those balloons from that kid. Side note, do your people have a good curry recipe? I’m craving it. At this point I would settle for subpar.”

“You could have whatever food you wish at your leisure if you were in India. Where you belong.”

“I’ll take that as a hard no, then.” Brahma sighed, “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” lifting his right hand and snapping his middle finger and thumb, rubbing them together as he envisioned what he wanted to create.

Of course, Brahma didn’t simply create himself a bowl of curry. A grand dining set up began to form in Tawa’s meditation room and Tawa’s irritation level rose from mildly annoyed to extraordinarily angry in a split second.

Tawa glared darkly at his younger brother and waved a hand at the forming set up—even the pot of curry that had blinked it to existence— and it vanished.

Brahma’s jaw dropped, then he pulled his mouth into a pout. “I was going to share.”

“I’m not interested.”

“In curry?” Brahma sucked his teeth with a look of scorn, pointing a finger at his brother. “That attitude is why North America has no culture.”

Tawa ground his teeth and prayed to the stars for patience. “No you imbecile. I’m not interested in why you’re here, what you want, or what reasons you have for either. I’ve tolerated you in my territory for years and you’ve not come to speak with me once and when you do the first thing out of your mouth is incomprehensible drivel about Sunakian souls. Go. Home.”

“You’re more cranky than usual. How long has it been since you’ve gone outside?” Brahma huffed and extended one of his legs out, bringing the other knee to his chest and wrapping his arms around it, eyeing his eldest brother.

Tawa opened his mouth to spew something vitriolic and paused. How long had it been since he’d put his feet on the Earth, breathed the air, and let the sun touch his face? Months, at least. Possibly years. He wasn’t certain.

Thinking about it, he wasn’t sure he’d left the meditation room in some time.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Too long, then.” He pointed his finger at Tawa with a sly grin. “I just woke you up—that’s why you’re more grumbly than stabby.” Brahma nodded, smacking his thighs standing up in one fluid movement, extending a hand to Tawa. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“I would rather slice you open and slurp your intestines like ramen noodles.” Tawa deadpanned with a flat look.

“Stars. So crass.” Brahma snorted with an eye roll, dropping his hand to his hip. “At least you’ll eat Iza’s bloody cuisine. Is it the turmeric? I could do a green curry, if it would better suit your delicate palate.”

Brahma wasn’t going to go away. May as well indulge him. It wasn’t often any of the siblings visited the other, after all.

Tawa ignored his brother's ramblings and stood slowly. Easing into it, the bones of this form popping and cracking as he went. The stretching of his muscles felt good.

Tawa’s legs tingled when he reached his full height. How long had it been since he stood? He was unsure. But he followed the babbling Brahma out of the meditation room and winced at the lighting difference, and that was a good indication.

“When was the last family round table?” Tawa asked as Brahma struggled to find his way out in the early nineteenth century Victorian mansion Tawa had called his home for over two hundred years. He pointed to their left and the younger brother clapped his hands twice with a stupid grin on his face and led them that way, through the kitchen.

“About a hundred and thirty years,” Brahma answered, shoving the old, screaming back door open and revealing a beautiful afternoon sun, “give or take. Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting idle that long.”

Not quite that long. “What year is it?”

“2022. It’s clear from the dust I just saw in that kitchen that you have been immobile for quite some time. Related side note–why don’t you have a staff?”

The last time Tawa remembered venturing anywhere outside of his home it was 1996. He’d sat meditating for twenty-six years. He’d sat through the passing of another millennium.

At least his soundproof meditation room worked. He’d not heard Aya screaming from the forest for his attention in all that time, as she was wont to do.

Still, twenty-six years was a long time to ignore her, she was sure to be livid. As an astral projection she couldn’t be seen by most eyes or heard by most ears. She had to be going insane with loneliness by now.

Tawa put his bare feet on the ground and felt a release of tension throughout his whole body in an instant. Connecting to the Earth was to connect to the Universe. A brief glimpse of the homecoming he longed for, but would never have.

“Better?” Brahma asked, his brow raised expectantly when Tawa opened his eyes. “What happened that caused you to be still for so long. It’s not like you.”

“Mind your own, Brahma. I seem to recall three millennia that passed by as you sat idle.”

Brahma waved his hand dismissively. “Yes but that’s me. We were talking about you.”

“You were talking about me. I was ignoring you.”

“You’re the one that’s been keeping it going.”

Tawa’s jaw ticked and began to walk toward the forest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come say hello when I first entered your territory.” Brahma said in a tone that gave lie to his words as he kept pace with Tawa, stepping on every fallen branch as they went. “I’ve been searching for—“

“Aya.”

“Yes.” He swatted a low branch out of his way, but it flew back and smacked him in the face. Brahma sputtered and Tawa just barely managed to control his amusement. “This is why I stay in the city.”

Tawa turned his head with both brows lifted and Brahma realized the joke too late.

“Low hanging fruit, brother.” Brahma tisked with an exaggerated eye roll. “Anyway, as I was saying. Since you’ve been in a trance state for so long I’m certain you haven’t felt the stirrings of Apep in the far reaches of the Universe. If you had, you might not sound so opposed to my searching for our eldest sibling.”

Tawa stopped moving abruptly, throwing a sharp look over his shoulder at Brahma. His raven hair now fell long past his calves and it swung with his movement, tangling in some twigs. He winced, reaching down to detangle himself as Brahma laughed, passing him with his hands clasped behind his back.

“You should probably shorten it.”

“Mind your tongue or I’ll nail it to a tree.” Tawa threatened as he got his hair free, pulling it over his shoulder to braid it as they continued forward. “Apep hasn’t destroyed a galaxy yet, I would’ve felt that.”

“It is only a matter of time— where are we going?

Tawa sighed heavily, whipping his finished braid back over his shoulder. “To see Aya, Bram. Keep up.” He ignored the giddy look on his brother’s face when he used that new, preferred nickname.

Dante

They guys in the mine had been supportive. Offering condolences and trying their best to joke around and keep his mind from his losses. A few asked what he was planning to do about the kids. Dante knew their hearts were in the right place but he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t know what he was going to do.

He’d spent a lot of time in the library during his bereavement period, per the bar-ghost’s suggestion, building his case. Going to court without a lawyer was risky and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it. He didn’t want to lose Beth and Oliver. High risk; high reward wasn’t a theory he was comfortable with employing when it was his family’s well being that was being risked.

But his lawyer was terrible, and he was the only option in the county.

Dante was bone tired as he trudged up the three stories to his apartment. He kicked his boots into the corner, tossing his keys onto his kitchen countertops. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed but he was covered in coal dust and stunk like the mines. So he stripped at the door, tossing the clothes into the washer in the kitchen as he slunk toward the bathroom.

He turned on the shower and jumped back with a shocked shriek that was too high pitched to be called anything but shrill, fumbling to grab his towel off the shower door and cover himself up

“Hey bestie,” the ghost from the bar waved at him from inside his shower with a saccharine smile, “oh don’t be modest, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. Nice ass tattoo.”

Dante gaped like a fish, having a meltdown in his head. She was a ghost. He shouldn’t have to worry about a ghost in his apartment, let alone being modest for her sake. She’s dead. She shouldn’t be lingering.

“It— uh, it was spring break. Daytona Beach.” He could’ve slapped himself for answering her.

“Of course it was.” Aya’s eyes lit up and she didn’t have to smile for him to see she was amused by this.

“Don’t you have a light to walk into?” Dante asked, hoping it might get her to leave. It was a long shot.

“Ghost humor. Nice.” Aya gave him an approving once over before she was next to him in a blink of an eye. “But a drunken adventure doesn’t explain the choice. It’s the Eye of Ra. I have a vested interest in anything having to do with Ra. Consider me intrigued with your choice.”

Dante gaped at her. “It’s the Eye of Horus, and will you get out so I can shower?”

Aya stared at him for a few seconds. Then she rolled her eyes and disappeared through the door. He breathed a sigh of relief just as her voice reached him from the other side.

“You’ve got an impressive book collection. I’m jealous.”

Dante had never opened a door so fast. He popped his head out and gave her a warning glare. Her hands flew up in the universal gesture of innocence and her eyes went wide, grinning like a fox.

“I can’t touch them, don’t worry.”

“I know that.” Dante grumbled, closing the door, he’d had a brief lapse where he’d forgotten she was a ghost. “You just seem more corpreal than any other ghost I’ve met.”

After the quickest shower he’d ever taken, Dante expected Aya-the-bar-ghost to have vanished to follow whatever her next whim was, as ghosts tended to do. He exited the bathroom (double and triple checking to make sure his towel was secure) to find her seated in his reading chair, legs crossed and looking entirely too comfortable.

“How are things going with the custody issue?”

Aya asked this without preamble, her piercing emerald gaze stopped him in place and Dante felt it like getting punched in the gut.

He swallowed–hard. “We have court on Monday. My lawyer is unreliable. I went to the library but I don’t think I can pull it off on my own.” He fell onto his couch and ran both of his hands through his hair. “I’ve barely been able to talk to them in the last four days. One short call with Beth and nothing from Oliver besides their foster mom letting me know that he’s okay. I’ve heard all kinds of foster care horror stories–I don’t trust the system.”

Aya pursed her lips, then sucked her teeth and deflated. “You’re worried they’re not safe.” Aya nodded at him when he didn’t respond. Then she was standing in front of him with her arms crossed and a contemplative frown. “Are they in Blackwood?”

Dante nodded, leaning back into the couch. “The other side of town, up the Rocky Gap holler.”

“Who’s fostering them?”

“Shirley Elder.”

“I’m not fond of the Elder’s. They’re not the greatest people. I’ll check on the kids.” Aya said this like a vow, her hand placed over her heart. “I’ll shadow them all day tomorrow and let you know how they’re really doing.”

Dante sat back up again, a burning lump forming in his throat. “You’d do that—”

“Sure.” Aya waved her hand like it wasn’t a big deal.

To Dante, it was. He’d never had many people in his life that did things for him purely because they wanted to. Ghost or living being, it meant a lot to him that Aya offered her time just to satisfy his need to know his niece and nephew were safe. Dante found himself unable to speak, swallowing hard as he tried to formulate the words.

“It’s facing the wrong direction to be the Eye of Horus. It is the Eye of Ra. I’ve got a night class to get to. Later bestie!” She waved her fingers with a wink and disappeared.

Unfazed by her departure, Dante shot up and looked over his shoulder. He dropped his towel down enough to check his ass in the mirror. Was the tattoo the wrong direction?

“No way, she’s fucking with me.” He pulled the towel up and headed towards his closet for some shorts.

He ended up on his bed, googling the difference between the Egyptian hieroglyphs, cursing because damn it– Aya was right.