THE PIGEON CATCHER
The Pigeon Catcher is the first novel in its series
THE PIGEON CATCHER
(Sample Pages)
By E.A. Bundy
Five years ago in a Portland, Oregon dream laboratory—
Ed Bridger felt a shiver run down his back and stopped mid-sentence to turn and view a young pair of piercing, black eyes. The small, dark girl seemed mysterious.
“Want to help,” she said.
At first, he mistakenly believed she was asking him for help, but their roles soon reversed. In fact, articles appeared in professional journals detaiing the new concepts she shared. One renowned “expert” even came to Oregon suggesting Haley should have the opportunity to profit from their advanced facility in Virginia. “Just imagine,” he stated, “what might occur if she works with us?” Regardless, her parents said, “No.”
There were a half dozen, cutting-edge, sleep laboratories in the United States at that time but the Portland facility was more typically staffed by specialists from allied fields who aided persons with sleep disturbances. Until the fortuitous afternoon when a five-year-old, multi-racial girl with black hair and obsidian eyes came through their door.
Haley is currently Kevin Conner’s neighbor in The Dalles, Oregon and has been for months. He knows nothing of her dream activities or the difference between dreaming and reality. In seventeen years, he’s given no thought to that question—until now.
Chapter One: Dream or Reality?
Kevin’s original fuzziness cleared even in the dark. Reaching around his back, he checked to be certain the gunnysack holding his flashlight was tucked safely through his belt. He took a final look across the night-blackened yard and then gazed at his friends, one heavy-set, the other slight of build.
“What you waiting on?” Cal said.
Kevin replied, “If they were home, I’d just go out a dormer window like I planned. That’s why I was thinking—”
“Dormer?” Cal asked.
Jake whispered, “You know what that is.”
“Do not.”
Kevin said, “Little roof poking out of the main one…now stay here and be quiet.” He turned to his task, moving stealthily across the dark lawn toward the big house. Sometimes he wondered about Cal. Why had he even brought him along?
Kevin had familiarized himself with the rose trellis stretching high up to the second-story rain gutter. Initially, the trellis was to be his back-up method for gaining access to the roof because it was much more dangerous than going out the dormer. Yet, the risk enticed him as he moved toward the trellis base. Locating a cross-board, Kevin began climbing the structure.
Near the top of the first story, the rose became much thicker. He guessed the gardener didn’t relish pruning so high off the ground. Wishing he’d worn a long-sleeved shirt and pair of leather gloves, Kevin rubbed at stings where thorns had cut his hand and wrists.
“Oh well,” he whispered, “I’m halfway up.”
Near the projecting roof of the second story, Kevin paused, catching his breath. He sucked in the surprising fragrance of early blossoms wafting on a warm air current and smiled at the knowledge his sometime girlfriend Carol loved roses. She’d be sighing right now at the smell of the natural perfume.
Keep to the task, he thought, refocusing his attention. Getting past the roof’s edge would be difficult because it extended farther out than he’d realized. Jerking strongly on the metal gutter, it was sound, but climbing past would be a challenge. To make things worse, the image of Carol’s face haunted him. Even her flashing green eyes set in freckled skin seemed to admonish him. “Are you crazy?” her voice sounded in his mind, “Get down from there right now.”
It wasn’t enough the strawberry-blond nagged at him in person. No girl, no matter how pretty, was telling him what to do. He shook his head. What were the two of them thinking? Their getting back together would never work out.
No more delays. Filled with determination, Kevin pulled himself waist-high to the gutter so his legs dangled unsupported above the yard below. Glad he couldn’t look down, he swung his body up—arcing onto the slanted roof. Turning onto his back, he nervously placed his heels in the gutter, resting on the steep slope. Fit as he was from soccer, telltale sweat trickled down his neck.
Carol’s voice berated him again, “If you fall and kill yourself, Kevin, I’ll never forgive you.” He smiled, knowing that was exactly what she would say. He’d better remind Cal and Jake to keep their mouths shut, especially Cal. If word got back to Carol, Kevin would never hear the end of it, although he was doing this for her, sort of. On the other hand, he’d seen signs she was going to dump him—again. Why’d he let her talk him into going out with her once more, anyway? Maybe he should just let Cal tell her about this little adventure.
Pigeons moved nervously beside the dormer above him as Kevin lay there on his back, panting from his adrenaline rush. The male pigeon began cooing to its mate and Kevin knew they were beginning to settle down. While adjusting the flashlight in his gunnysack so it wouldn’t jab, he detected weak illumination shining onto the roof beside him from the attic’s dormer window—invisible down below where his friends waited.
Kevin heard his buddies whispering down in the yard, but ignored them, grateful they hadn’t started yelling up to him. Turning over on his stomach, he definitely saw a pale light flooding through the trio of dormer windows. The middle section was stationary but the other two were for ventilation during eastern Oregon’s hot summers. He stretched his arm upward, touching the dormer’s bottom edge.
The large recessed area to the right was pitch-black, so there’d be no difficulty catching the troublesome birds. He sold the common pigeons he caught to bird hunters for training their gun dogs. The men paid a dollar and up for each one. Invariably destroyed, the pigeons did not return to pester their former “landlords.” In that way, Kevin didn’t have to cull them—a task he avoided.
Placing his hands flat on the roof, he edged his way up to the dormer. Nearing, he heard one of the birds make its alarm call, a pigeon grunting sound. Kevin knew they wouldn’t take flight for fear of injury in the dark. He wondered how he would get down off the roof with the pigeons in his gunnysack. If he didn’t need the money for taking Carol to the movies tomorrow night, he might have waited to do this job.
Curiosity compelled him to peer through the diamond-shaped panes in the attic window. A portable electric lantern sat midway across the floor and he quickly adjusted to its brightness. He thought it odd there was a light on in the attic of this unlit house.
Kevin glimpsed his faint reflection in the glass; his mussed-up hair appeared much darker than its actual light brown. His eyes, staring from his oval face, didn’t reveal their blueness. Although he was seventeen, he looked younger—downright immature.
Small hairs stood on the back of his neck as the reflected glimmer from another pair of eyes seemed to appear. It couldn’t be his friends. Cal was afraid of heights and even Jake would have made noise climbing up. For a moment, it seemed as though a dark, female head was visible beside him. He closed and then reopened his eyes. No—just his own faint reflection. How silly, letting his mind get carried away like that.
Pressing his face against the glass, Kevin rubbed the painful thorn nicks on his arms. If the owners were home, he would have climbed out the window, avoiding the scratches. Focusing on the interior, he saw the messy attic was mainly a storage area. A large brass bed was the only piece of furniture; its mattress heaped high with excess bedding and clothing, including an old-fashioned mink stole. A set of golf clubs leaned against the back of the bed, plus boxes and other storage containers sat randomly about.
Kevin was turning away when a movement caught his eye. What he’d perceived as a shadow beyond the lantern was now a shifting shape. He blinked, thinking his eyes were playing another trick on him. No. The dark shadow became a moving specter, hunched-over and carrying something—a small metal box?
Not only was that presence dressed in black, it wore a dark ski mask. The hair on the back of Kevin’s neck prickled again and he gulped as the mysterious head lifted, revealing cold black eyes. Kevin was too shocked to move. His logic and all his senses reacted. That person shouldn’t be here. The figure crept close to the lantern. Its body-shape and motions revealed a male.
Still crouched, the man opened the container and removed something. A brilliant necklace dangled from the shadowy hand and myriad facets highlighted the room with reflected sparkles of light. The man’s attention interrupted and he straightened, turning toward the descending stairwell. Moving furtively to the top of the steps, he cocked his head to one side, listening. Replacing the jewelry, he hastily returned the metal box to the hole in the floor, sealing the cavity with a short floorboard.
Kevin sat there, riveted. He’d heard nothing that should have startled the dark figure. His friends were silent far below. What was happening?
The man moved suddenly forward, glancing around as though he realized someone was watching. For no apparent reason, the mysterious form leaped closer. Had Kevin been spotted?
In his haste, the man tripped over debris, crashing headlong into the bed and knocking things to the floor. As a result of that flurried activity, something was revealed causing Kevin to gasp--
A pale arm extended from beneath the dislodged bedding. It connected to the upper-half of a young woman’s unclad body. She appeared to be about Kevin’s age. Bright blue eyes stared fixedly, punctuated by her unnaturally white skin—nearly as light as her ash blonde hair. Only minor blotches and the thin, reddish-brown line of dried blood on her neck marred her skin’s pale surface. Her pink lip gloss looked out of place, vibrant and alive on someone who was…. Despite everything, Kevin couldn’t help thinking how pretty she’d be if she wasn’t dead.
He cringed, lurching back from the window’s lifeless form. Turning to get away, he thought he glimpsed the dark figure covering the young woman’s naked body with blankets. Why would the guy bother? Hadn’t he seen Kevin after all?
Pausing beside the entry to the roof alcove where the pigeons hid, and driven by a compulsion to know what was happening, Kevin forced himself to lean around the corner for another glance in the window. Perhaps the light glaring off the glass had kept the ominous figure from seeing him.
What Kevin witnessed, however, was the black silhouette striding directly toward him, brandishing a wicked knife. Impulsively darting under the roof’s overhang, Kevin scrunched as far back as he could and heard the frightened pigeons scurry deeper into the narrowing nook. As the window was forced open, Kevin’s ears were assaulted by the scraping sound of its latch and the protesting creak of unoiled hinges. The dark shape lunged around the corner. Kevin felt one of the pigeons brush by, then fly into the darkness, startling the aggressor. The remaining pigeon would likely attempt the same maneuver. Hearing that bird moving past, Kevin grasped it, causing a frightened grunt.
The knife thrust into the alcove just as Kevin hurtled his feathered captive directly at the assailant’s head. It was a forceful hit by the flapping bird.
The man swore, sliding down the steep roof.
Kevin moved out from his confinement and around the edge of the dormer, continuing toward its peak. There he paused. Somehow, the man had kept from falling or Kevin’s friends would be screaming their heads off. The loud commotion had gained their attention, however. Cal’s hoarse whisper floated up. “Kevin, you okay?”
Kevin gave no answer since he didn’t know where the dude in black was and hoped the man didn’t know where he was, either. What to do? His mind raced to make sense of the scene he’d witnessed. The ski-masked man was undoubtedly a burglar. Perhaps the young woman had interrupted his larceny and been killed. In that case, the man wouldn’t hesitate to murder a witness. Too bad Kevin hadn’t seen the guy’s face because even if he got away he couldn’t identify the murderer.
Bang–– The window crashed shut, perhaps flung by the darkish man, or The Dalles’ fierce winds. There were only two escape routes off the roof. Kevin had to descend by the trellis or somehow get into the attic and race down through the house.
Cal hollered. “You okay, Kevin?”
Kevin followed his strong premonition to move back down the roof. Descending the dormer’s sloped valley, he heard an eerie whisper from the peak and halted.
Mocking and threatening, it said, “Kevin, are you all right?”
The muffled words were too soft for his friends to hear. Already removing the gunnysack from his belt, Kevin reached inside and retrieved his flashlight. It had a powerful beam and was rugged enough to serve as a weapon. He could make out the dark shape atop the dormer peak and hoped the man was staring at him. To be certain, Kevin scuffed his foot to draw attention, and closing his eyes, he turned the light on the burglar.
“Ah.” The startled utterance confirmed Kevin’s past experience. A brilliant light could temporarily blind far more than pigeons. Switching it off, he opened his eyes and moved rapidly to the front of the dormer, pushing the window open. Leaping inside, he flung it closed and fastened the latch. Running carefully to the brass bed, he pulled back the re-piled covers but the body was gone. Only mounds of clothing remained.
A creaking floorboard caused Kevin to turn. The dreadful figure was there between him and the stairway. From the corner of his eye, Kevin saw an opposite dormer window was now open. He’d been lured into a trap. Why hadn’t he called to his friends to get the cops when he had his chance? The sheriff’s office was just down the street.
The sinister voice whispered again, “Are you all right, Kevin?”
Backing around the bed, Kevin clutched his flashlight as a weapon. Bumping into the golf bag, he pocketed his light and grabbed a metal club. The assailant hesitated as Kevin shuffled forward, raising the iron threateningly, while carefully avoiding debris on the floor. He backed the man toward the stairway. A black sneaker slipped over the edge, dropping his adversary to one knee.
Maybe Kevin could still alert his friends. He raced left toward the open window, partly-tripping over a box. Attempting to leap to the roof outside, he lost his balance as the golf iron snagged the frame. Kevin slid feet-first on his back down the steep roof to the gutter. Legs careening over the edge, he dropped his makeshift weapon and managed a desperate turn, somehow grabbing the metal gutter’s fluted edge with both hands.
The club and then his flashlight crashed loudly below. His left hand slipped loose and he dangled by his right—the gutter’s lower edge cutting into his wrist.
The man chuckled, “Let me help you there, Kevin.”
Fingers pried loose, Kevin fell, screaming uncontrollably—a horrible sound--
Plummeting…. Down…down…down….
Chapter Two: The Lighted Tunnel’s End
Kevin’s fall and the darkness were broken by the light. Eyes tightly closed, mind fuzzy and disoriented, illumination surrounded him, somehow permeating his eyelids. His arm ached and pains stabbed his wrist.
His mother’s voice called faintly….
Was he dead—or in the hospital? He tried to focus on her words.
“Kevin, you had a nightmare. It’s alright…you can wake up now. You’re okay.”
His eyes remained tightly closed as he rubbed his sweaty face with his left hand, feeling the soft stubble of still-maturing whiskers. His heart pounded in his chest and his breath came in gasps.
“You were only dreaming.” His mother’s voice spoke softly from close by.
Yeah, right, he thought, and groaned, “Oh. I can barely move my right hand.” He feared to look at his wrist; afraid to find imprints made by the gutter that was supposedly part of a dream. He couldn’t make himself glance down. What if the marks were there? How would he deal with that knowledge? Maybe he could see it…later.
“You probably slept wrong,” his mother suggested. “Your arm is just tingling from a pinched nerve.”
When his eyelids fluttered open, he was definitely in his bedroom, but the morning sunlight—way too intense—jabbed at him.
“I’m glad you’ve finally awakened,” his mother said. “I’ll make you some breakfast. Hurry along so you won’t be late for class.”
School, he thought, and asked, “What happened to Saturday and Sunday?”
She gave a small laugh, “I know the weekends fly by but you have to go to school today. Come on…let’s get moving.”
Lying on his bed in a daze, he dimly observed his mother’s salt and pepper hair as she exited the room. What he’d experienced couldn’t have been a dream. It was too real. On the other hand, he wasn’t dead. The awful fall should have killed him or at least put him in the hospital. He wouldn’t be lying at home in his bed if the fall was real. The whole thing was too freaky.
Having no appetite for breakfast, Kevin grumbled something unintelligible to his mother on his way out the door. She called him back. Her voice was soft, plaintive. “Why don’t you go in and talk to the counselor at the high school?”
“No. I’m not talking to a shrink.” Ever since his incident at school last year, Kevin’s mom thought about sending him to a counselor over every little thing. After all, his nightmare was just a dream—wasn’t it?
Halfway to the high school, realization struck, he’d forgotten to shave. What a start for my day, he thought. Awakened out of the nightmare from hell, he’d skipped breakfast and neglected to remove his soft whiskers for probably the fourth day in a row. His right wrist still throbbed, plus his whole arm was sore. Two times before arriving at his destination, he stopped and nearly went back home.
School didn’t go much better. Arriving late, he received a tardy slip. By third period, he had two referrals, one for teacher disrespect, the other for an altercation with a friend. Those were his first of the year, which was nearly over. He racked up a second tardy when he spent time in the bathroom trying to talk himself into skipping school. On his way out from the boy’s room door, a student aide caught up with him and said he needed to report to the office. Probably about my referrals, Kevin thought.
In the school office, Mrs. Tedry the secretary called to him before he could sit down in one of the detention chairs. “Mr. Bridger wants to see you.”
Preoccupied and anticipating the worst, Kevin automatically moved in the direction of the principal’s room, not fully registering what she’d said.
“No,” she interrupted. “Go to the counseling center. Mr. Bridger wants you.”
As if everything else wasn’t screwed up, now he needed to go to the shrink’s office. Kevin made his way upstairs, conscious of his head drooping down and feet dragging the floor. He’d met Bridger only once, briefly, though he’d seen him around. The guy was tall, of medium build, with thinning, sandy hair—probably in his mid-forties. Sitting there in Bridger’s office, Kevin thought he seemed an okay man.
“You aren’t in any trouble with me, Kevin. In fact, I’ve heard you typically don’t have problems at school—this year. But because of what happened last spring, you’re more than a blip on our radar screen today.”
Kevin recalled the pepper spray he’d accidentally released in the lower hall when he headed for the gym his sophomore year. It was really all Cal’s fault. Once the spray caught in an air current from an outside door propped open for maintenance, most of the school had to evacuate because several students had allergic reactions.
Some idiot set off the fire alarm making things even worse as police and fire trucks soon arrived. Whispers of, “Do you think it was terrorists?” filtered through the ranks of disgruntled students milling about outside the building.
Mr. Bridger said, “The staff’s worried. They described you as being surly and taciturn, words never applied to you before. Mrs. Wetzel told me you’ve been disrespectful to adults and hurtful to your friends. Melody spent third period in the women’s restroom she was so hurt by what you said. Another girl brought her to my office, and they asked me to speak with you.”
Kevin, whose body was already at slouch maximum, let his head droop onto his chest. He and Melody had been good friends for a long time—three years at least. The realization he’d deeply hurt her solidified his decision to go home when he got the chance. She was just trying to help, he guessed, but why’d she have to say I should go see the counselor?
“Has something major happened to you recently?” Mr. Bridger’s genuine concern almost caused Kevin to say yes.
“No…” he replied. “I had a restless night. Didn’t get much sleep and somehow hurt my arm. I’m just having a bad day.” He couldn’t tell the truth—the guy’d think he was whacko.
Last year, the principal had insisted Kevin get a mental health evaluation after the pepper spray incident. That was messed up because Cal was the one who brought the little spray canister into the school, threatening to set it off. Jake got it away from Cal and handed it to Kevin, who was attempting to stuff it in his pocket when Cal tried to wrestle it from him. The potent spray went everywhere.
The next thing anyone knew, a teary-eyed teacher was half-yelling, half-choking in Kevin’s face. The damning evidence was still clutched in Kevin's hand, and he wouldn’t rat out his friend. Cal never came forward to reveal the truth. Not even when the police arrested Kevin. Thank goodness they hadn’t hauled him off in cuffs. He and Cal didn’t speak for a long time after that.
“We all have an occasional bad day,” said Mr. Bridger, “so I’ll assume that’s what it is. But if tomorrow starts out the same, I want you to promise you’ll come in and talk with me. Do I have your word you’ll do that?”
Kevin thought that one day like this was awful, but two would be living hell. He decided he really would come in if that occurred. “Yes,” he said.
“Just so you know—if you decide to come in later—I don’t force people to talk about things if they aren’t willing. Now, to be on the safe side, I’m giving you a pass to the counseling center for any time during the rest of today and tomorrow. Just think of it as your Get out of Jail Free card. Show it to any teacher and come on down. Okay?”
Kevin nodded yes.
“You need to know, coming down here doesn’t necessarily eliminate consequences but it helps you stay out of more trouble. Understand?”
“Yes.” Kevin left the counseling center feeling a little bit better. At least he wasn’t being ordered for another evaluation at mental health. Since his visit there last year, his mom seemed to think everything he did indicated he needed counseling. She had not believed it was Cal’s pepper spray.
Back downstairs, Kevin meandered down the long hall toward the west side of the building. At the far end of the dim corridor, an unaccountably bright light attracted his attention. It was so intense that the long hall resembled a tunnel.
When he arrived at the juncture formed from adding the newer wing, Kevin decided to go out the side exit for home. Hurriedly, he forced the door open to make his escape, accidentally banging into someone who was attempting to enter.
“I’m sorry.” he said. “Are you all right?” He gazed more directly at the other person, his initial concern transforming into stricken shock.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not hurt.”
He stood there unable to reply, looking down into animated blue eyes. There was a healthy pink hue to her cheeks, accentuated by her light, rose-colored lip-gloss. Her mouth crinkled into a warm smile, lighting her rounded face, which was surrounded by medium-length blonde hair.
Unbelievably, hers was the very image he’d seen sprawled on the brass bed in his nightmare. Now, however, she was fully clothed, appearing vibrant and very much alive.
She asked, “Do I know you?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You look familiar,” she said, “and it seemed like maybe you recognize me from somewhere.”
“You resemble someone I used to know,” he lied, feeling lame. His mind worked wildly, trying to understand things that made no sense.
“We just moved here,” she said, “and I don’t know my way around. My stepfather signed me into school but I need to find the office and see about my classes. Can you tell me where it is?”
He pointed and replied, “At the other end of the hall…up the stairs. You can’t miss it.” He couldn’t imagine why she’d come in this door. She was really lost.
“Thanks, I don’t know anyone here and I’m a little nervous. I’ve never had to move before…it’s my senior year.” Her tone had turned somber and then brightened as she added, “My name’s Misty, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Misty. My name’s Kevin. Too bad you had to move before you could graduate from your old school, but you’ll see that students here are friendly.” He thought this was the worst possible day to meet a pretty, new student. His hand migrated to his face, detecting the few days’ worth of whiskers—well, kind-of-whiskers. Had he combed his hair? He must really be a sight. Also, she was a senior—and he was a junior.
Misty stood there, seemingly reluctant to walk down the hallway to the office.
“Oh,” he said, “I’ll show you where it is.”
“Would you? I know it seems silly but I’m really nervous about starting a new school. I keep telling myself I should quit being a baby.”
They walked slowly down the hallway.
“Where did you move from?”
“Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. I’ve lived there my whole life till now.”
“How come you moved to The Dalles?”
“My stepfather sold a business in Coeur d’Alene and bought one here. He said we could delay our move. I thought it would be better coming here now, but I miss all my friends.”
“Yeah…” Kevin nodded.
Coming down the hall was a young man built like a super-jock. “Hey, Conners. New student?”
“Yes…just moved here,” Kevin said.
The other guy added, “Why don’t I show her around?”
“Kevin’s already helping...thanks.”
That didn’t faze the newcomer. “I’m Brad, the unofficial greeter. I orient all the new students. He won’t mind.” Brad gave Kevin a threatening look as he attempted to move between them.
She said curtly, “No.” and intertwining her arm with Kevin’s, they began moving down the hallway again, leaving Brad standing in uncomfortable silence. Kevin knew the athlete was accustomed to getting his own way—especially where girls were concerned.
“Hey,” Misty said as they put more distance between themselves and the would-be interloper. “We just moved into our home down by the courthouse. Want to come over later? You’re the only person I know here.”
Kevin’s brow knitted as he realized the girl from his nightmare had apparently moved into the very house from the bad dream. He struggled to refocus. “Yes, I can do that.” He thought she might change her mind by the end of the day. By then, she would meet other students and feel more secure.
“I know,” she said, “why don’t you come over after school, if you don’t have other plans?”
“I don’t, but you may be busy this afternoon…once you meet more kids.”
Misty stopped and turned, looking into his eyes. “So…you think you might show up at my house and find it already full of other guys?”
“No,” he replied, thinking she must have read his mind. “It’s just that…”
She broke in, “I guess the guys in The Dalles are going to turn out to be as dense as the ones in Coeur d’Alene, so let me put it this way. 'Do you want to hang out with me this afternoon?'”
“Yes.”
She asked, “Where do you live?”
“On Sixth Place, just a few blocks from your house.”
“Cool.” Reaching into her bag, she found a little notepad and a pen. “I’m going to put my phone and address down for you. We don’t have our new mobiles yet but the house line is in. I want you to write down your home number and address for me. Okay?”
From nightmare to dream come true, he thought. One of the prettiest girls he’d ever met was giving him her number without being asked. Maybe his worst-starting-day would turn out ending the best—and yet, a shiver ran down his back.
When they’d exchanged information, Misty looked at him and said, “I feel a little better about this new school, now that I’ve met you.”
She studied his face curiously, as though she saw something familiar there. “I’m not certain why, but it seems like we already know each other. After school…I think I’ll…” She seemed suddenly unsure of herself. “Maybe I’ll come visit. Is that alright?”
“Sure.” He felt giddy that she wanted to spend time with him and yet unsure how to deal with the reality of this young woman—and his nightmare. Another chill erupted.
They walked to the office in silence. Inside, Mrs. Tedry glanced up and began helping Misty. Kevin absently scanned a copy of The Dalles Chronicle lying nearby. He was startled to see the headline. Search for Cat Burglar Continues.
Mrs. Tedry gave Misty her class schedule. “Your school records should be here next week. We requested they rush them because it’s so close to the end of the year.” She turned to Kevin as the phone began to ring. “Where do you need to be young man?”
He held up the counseling pass.
Misty turned. “Thanks. See you this afternoon.”
Kevin found himself moving toward, of all places, the counseling center….
Website copyright © 2011-2013 by EA Bundy. All rights reserved. None of the text, photos, or illustrations may be used without the author or publisher’s—Singing Winds Press—written permission. (Please note, Singing Winds Press is closed to submissions.) The Pigeon Catcher paperback is copyright 2012 by EA Bundy
THE PIGEON CATCHER
(Sample Pages)
By E.A. Bundy
Five years ago in a Portland, Oregon dream laboratory—
Ed Bridger felt a shiver run down his back and stopped mid-sentence to turn and view a young pair of piercing, black eyes. The small, dark girl seemed mysterious.
“Want to help,” she said.
At first, he mistakenly believed she was asking him for help, but their roles soon reversed. In fact, articles appeared in professional journals detaiing the new concepts she shared. One renowned “expert” even came to Oregon suggesting Haley should have the opportunity to profit from their advanced facility in Virginia. “Just imagine,” he stated, “what might occur if she works with us?” Regardless, her parents said, “No.”
There were a half dozen, cutting-edge, sleep laboratories in the United States at that time but the Portland facility was more typically staffed by specialists from allied fields who aided persons with sleep disturbances. Until the fortuitous afternoon when a five-year-old, multi-racial girl with black hair and obsidian eyes came through their door.
Haley is currently Kevin Conner’s neighbor in The Dalles, Oregon and has been for months. He knows nothing of her dream activities or the difference between dreaming and reality. In seventeen years, he’s given no thought to that question—until now.
Chapter One: Dream or Reality?
Kevin’s original fuzziness cleared even in the dark. Reaching around his back, he checked to be certain the gunnysack holding his flashlight was tucked safely through his belt. He took a final look across the night-blackened yard and then gazed at his friends, one heavy-set, the other slight of build.
“What you waiting on?” Cal said.
Kevin replied, “If they were home, I’d just go out a dormer window like I planned. That’s why I was thinking—”
“Dormer?” Cal asked.
Jake whispered, “You know what that is.”
“Do not.”
Kevin said, “Little roof poking out of the main one…now stay here and be quiet.” He turned to his task, moving stealthily across the dark lawn toward the big house. Sometimes he wondered about Cal. Why had he even brought him along?
Kevin had familiarized himself with the rose trellis stretching high up to the second-story rain gutter. Initially, the trellis was to be his back-up method for gaining access to the roof because it was much more dangerous than going out the dormer. Yet, the risk enticed him as he moved toward the trellis base. Locating a cross-board, Kevin began climbing the structure.
Near the top of the first story, the rose became much thicker. He guessed the gardener didn’t relish pruning so high off the ground. Wishing he’d worn a long-sleeved shirt and pair of leather gloves, Kevin rubbed at stings where thorns had cut his hand and wrists.
“Oh well,” he whispered, “I’m halfway up.”
Near the projecting roof of the second story, Kevin paused, catching his breath. He sucked in the surprising fragrance of early blossoms wafting on a warm air current and smiled at the knowledge his sometime girlfriend Carol loved roses. She’d be sighing right now at the smell of the natural perfume.
Keep to the task, he thought, refocusing his attention. Getting past the roof’s edge would be difficult because it extended farther out than he’d realized. Jerking strongly on the metal gutter, it was sound, but climbing past would be a challenge. To make things worse, the image of Carol’s face haunted him. Even her flashing green eyes set in freckled skin seemed to admonish him. “Are you crazy?” her voice sounded in his mind, “Get down from there right now.”
It wasn’t enough the strawberry-blond nagged at him in person. No girl, no matter how pretty, was telling him what to do. He shook his head. What were the two of them thinking? Their getting back together would never work out.
No more delays. Filled with determination, Kevin pulled himself waist-high to the gutter so his legs dangled unsupported above the yard below. Glad he couldn’t look down, he swung his body up—arcing onto the slanted roof. Turning onto his back, he nervously placed his heels in the gutter, resting on the steep slope. Fit as he was from soccer, telltale sweat trickled down his neck.
Carol’s voice berated him again, “If you fall and kill yourself, Kevin, I’ll never forgive you.” He smiled, knowing that was exactly what she would say. He’d better remind Cal and Jake to keep their mouths shut, especially Cal. If word got back to Carol, Kevin would never hear the end of it, although he was doing this for her, sort of. On the other hand, he’d seen signs she was going to dump him—again. Why’d he let her talk him into going out with her once more, anyway? Maybe he should just let Cal tell her about this little adventure.
Pigeons moved nervously beside the dormer above him as Kevin lay there on his back, panting from his adrenaline rush. The male pigeon began cooing to its mate and Kevin knew they were beginning to settle down. While adjusting the flashlight in his gunnysack so it wouldn’t jab, he detected weak illumination shining onto the roof beside him from the attic’s dormer window—invisible down below where his friends waited.
Kevin heard his buddies whispering down in the yard, but ignored them, grateful they hadn’t started yelling up to him. Turning over on his stomach, he definitely saw a pale light flooding through the trio of dormer windows. The middle section was stationary but the other two were for ventilation during eastern Oregon’s hot summers. He stretched his arm upward, touching the dormer’s bottom edge.
The large recessed area to the right was pitch-black, so there’d be no difficulty catching the troublesome birds. He sold the common pigeons he caught to bird hunters for training their gun dogs. The men paid a dollar and up for each one. Invariably destroyed, the pigeons did not return to pester their former “landlords.” In that way, Kevin didn’t have to cull them—a task he avoided.
Placing his hands flat on the roof, he edged his way up to the dormer. Nearing, he heard one of the birds make its alarm call, a pigeon grunting sound. Kevin knew they wouldn’t take flight for fear of injury in the dark. He wondered how he would get down off the roof with the pigeons in his gunnysack. If he didn’t need the money for taking Carol to the movies tomorrow night, he might have waited to do this job.
Curiosity compelled him to peer through the diamond-shaped panes in the attic window. A portable electric lantern sat midway across the floor and he quickly adjusted to its brightness. He thought it odd there was a light on in the attic of this unlit house.
Kevin glimpsed his faint reflection in the glass; his mussed-up hair appeared much darker than its actual light brown. His eyes, staring from his oval face, didn’t reveal their blueness. Although he was seventeen, he looked younger—downright immature.
Small hairs stood on the back of his neck as the reflected glimmer from another pair of eyes seemed to appear. It couldn’t be his friends. Cal was afraid of heights and even Jake would have made noise climbing up. For a moment, it seemed as though a dark, female head was visible beside him. He closed and then reopened his eyes. No—just his own faint reflection. How silly, letting his mind get carried away like that.
Pressing his face against the glass, Kevin rubbed the painful thorn nicks on his arms. If the owners were home, he would have climbed out the window, avoiding the scratches. Focusing on the interior, he saw the messy attic was mainly a storage area. A large brass bed was the only piece of furniture; its mattress heaped high with excess bedding and clothing, including an old-fashioned mink stole. A set of golf clubs leaned against the back of the bed, plus boxes and other storage containers sat randomly about.
Kevin was turning away when a movement caught his eye. What he’d perceived as a shadow beyond the lantern was now a shifting shape. He blinked, thinking his eyes were playing another trick on him. No. The dark shadow became a moving specter, hunched-over and carrying something—a small metal box?
Not only was that presence dressed in black, it wore a dark ski mask. The hair on the back of Kevin’s neck prickled again and he gulped as the mysterious head lifted, revealing cold black eyes. Kevin was too shocked to move. His logic and all his senses reacted. That person shouldn’t be here. The figure crept close to the lantern. Its body-shape and motions revealed a male.
Still crouched, the man opened the container and removed something. A brilliant necklace dangled from the shadowy hand and myriad facets highlighted the room with reflected sparkles of light. The man’s attention interrupted and he straightened, turning toward the descending stairwell. Moving furtively to the top of the steps, he cocked his head to one side, listening. Replacing the jewelry, he hastily returned the metal box to the hole in the floor, sealing the cavity with a short floorboard.
Kevin sat there, riveted. He’d heard nothing that should have startled the dark figure. His friends were silent far below. What was happening?
The man moved suddenly forward, glancing around as though he realized someone was watching. For no apparent reason, the mysterious form leaped closer. Had Kevin been spotted?
In his haste, the man tripped over debris, crashing headlong into the bed and knocking things to the floor. As a result of that flurried activity, something was revealed causing Kevin to gasp--
A pale arm extended from beneath the dislodged bedding. It connected to the upper-half of a young woman’s unclad body. She appeared to be about Kevin’s age. Bright blue eyes stared fixedly, punctuated by her unnaturally white skin—nearly as light as her ash blonde hair. Only minor blotches and the thin, reddish-brown line of dried blood on her neck marred her skin’s pale surface. Her pink lip gloss looked out of place, vibrant and alive on someone who was…. Despite everything, Kevin couldn’t help thinking how pretty she’d be if she wasn’t dead.
He cringed, lurching back from the window’s lifeless form. Turning to get away, he thought he glimpsed the dark figure covering the young woman’s naked body with blankets. Why would the guy bother? Hadn’t he seen Kevin after all?
Pausing beside the entry to the roof alcove where the pigeons hid, and driven by a compulsion to know what was happening, Kevin forced himself to lean around the corner for another glance in the window. Perhaps the light glaring off the glass had kept the ominous figure from seeing him.
What Kevin witnessed, however, was the black silhouette striding directly toward him, brandishing a wicked knife. Impulsively darting under the roof’s overhang, Kevin scrunched as far back as he could and heard the frightened pigeons scurry deeper into the narrowing nook. As the window was forced open, Kevin’s ears were assaulted by the scraping sound of its latch and the protesting creak of unoiled hinges. The dark shape lunged around the corner. Kevin felt one of the pigeons brush by, then fly into the darkness, startling the aggressor. The remaining pigeon would likely attempt the same maneuver. Hearing that bird moving past, Kevin grasped it, causing a frightened grunt.
The knife thrust into the alcove just as Kevin hurtled his feathered captive directly at the assailant’s head. It was a forceful hit by the flapping bird.
The man swore, sliding down the steep roof.
Kevin moved out from his confinement and around the edge of the dormer, continuing toward its peak. There he paused. Somehow, the man had kept from falling or Kevin’s friends would be screaming their heads off. The loud commotion had gained their attention, however. Cal’s hoarse whisper floated up. “Kevin, you okay?”
Kevin gave no answer since he didn’t know where the dude in black was and hoped the man didn’t know where he was, either. What to do? His mind raced to make sense of the scene he’d witnessed. The ski-masked man was undoubtedly a burglar. Perhaps the young woman had interrupted his larceny and been killed. In that case, the man wouldn’t hesitate to murder a witness. Too bad Kevin hadn’t seen the guy’s face because even if he got away he couldn’t identify the murderer.
Bang–– The window crashed shut, perhaps flung by the darkish man, or The Dalles’ fierce winds. There were only two escape routes off the roof. Kevin had to descend by the trellis or somehow get into the attic and race down through the house.
Cal hollered. “You okay, Kevin?”
Kevin followed his strong premonition to move back down the roof. Descending the dormer’s sloped valley, he heard an eerie whisper from the peak and halted.
Mocking and threatening, it said, “Kevin, are you all right?”
The muffled words were too soft for his friends to hear. Already removing the gunnysack from his belt, Kevin reached inside and retrieved his flashlight. It had a powerful beam and was rugged enough to serve as a weapon. He could make out the dark shape atop the dormer peak and hoped the man was staring at him. To be certain, Kevin scuffed his foot to draw attention, and closing his eyes, he turned the light on the burglar.
“Ah.” The startled utterance confirmed Kevin’s past experience. A brilliant light could temporarily blind far more than pigeons. Switching it off, he opened his eyes and moved rapidly to the front of the dormer, pushing the window open. Leaping inside, he flung it closed and fastened the latch. Running carefully to the brass bed, he pulled back the re-piled covers but the body was gone. Only mounds of clothing remained.
A creaking floorboard caused Kevin to turn. The dreadful figure was there between him and the stairway. From the corner of his eye, Kevin saw an opposite dormer window was now open. He’d been lured into a trap. Why hadn’t he called to his friends to get the cops when he had his chance? The sheriff’s office was just down the street.
The sinister voice whispered again, “Are you all right, Kevin?”
Backing around the bed, Kevin clutched his flashlight as a weapon. Bumping into the golf bag, he pocketed his light and grabbed a metal club. The assailant hesitated as Kevin shuffled forward, raising the iron threateningly, while carefully avoiding debris on the floor. He backed the man toward the stairway. A black sneaker slipped over the edge, dropping his adversary to one knee.
Maybe Kevin could still alert his friends. He raced left toward the open window, partly-tripping over a box. Attempting to leap to the roof outside, he lost his balance as the golf iron snagged the frame. Kevin slid feet-first on his back down the steep roof to the gutter. Legs careening over the edge, he dropped his makeshift weapon and managed a desperate turn, somehow grabbing the metal gutter’s fluted edge with both hands.
The club and then his flashlight crashed loudly below. His left hand slipped loose and he dangled by his right—the gutter’s lower edge cutting into his wrist.
The man chuckled, “Let me help you there, Kevin.”
Fingers pried loose, Kevin fell, screaming uncontrollably—a horrible sound--
Plummeting…. Down…down…down….
Chapter Two: The Lighted Tunnel’s End
Kevin’s fall and the darkness were broken by the light. Eyes tightly closed, mind fuzzy and disoriented, illumination surrounded him, somehow permeating his eyelids. His arm ached and pains stabbed his wrist.
His mother’s voice called faintly….
Was he dead—or in the hospital? He tried to focus on her words.
“Kevin, you had a nightmare. It’s alright…you can wake up now. You’re okay.”
His eyes remained tightly closed as he rubbed his sweaty face with his left hand, feeling the soft stubble of still-maturing whiskers. His heart pounded in his chest and his breath came in gasps.
“You were only dreaming.” His mother’s voice spoke softly from close by.
Yeah, right, he thought, and groaned, “Oh. I can barely move my right hand.” He feared to look at his wrist; afraid to find imprints made by the gutter that was supposedly part of a dream. He couldn’t make himself glance down. What if the marks were there? How would he deal with that knowledge? Maybe he could see it…later.
“You probably slept wrong,” his mother suggested. “Your arm is just tingling from a pinched nerve.”
When his eyelids fluttered open, he was definitely in his bedroom, but the morning sunlight—way too intense—jabbed at him.
“I’m glad you’ve finally awakened,” his mother said. “I’ll make you some breakfast. Hurry along so you won’t be late for class.”
School, he thought, and asked, “What happened to Saturday and Sunday?”
She gave a small laugh, “I know the weekends fly by but you have to go to school today. Come on…let’s get moving.”
Lying on his bed in a daze, he dimly observed his mother’s salt and pepper hair as she exited the room. What he’d experienced couldn’t have been a dream. It was too real. On the other hand, he wasn’t dead. The awful fall should have killed him or at least put him in the hospital. He wouldn’t be lying at home in his bed if the fall was real. The whole thing was too freaky.
Having no appetite for breakfast, Kevin grumbled something unintelligible to his mother on his way out the door. She called him back. Her voice was soft, plaintive. “Why don’t you go in and talk to the counselor at the high school?”
“No. I’m not talking to a shrink.” Ever since his incident at school last year, Kevin’s mom thought about sending him to a counselor over every little thing. After all, his nightmare was just a dream—wasn’t it?
Halfway to the high school, realization struck, he’d forgotten to shave. What a start for my day, he thought. Awakened out of the nightmare from hell, he’d skipped breakfast and neglected to remove his soft whiskers for probably the fourth day in a row. His right wrist still throbbed, plus his whole arm was sore. Two times before arriving at his destination, he stopped and nearly went back home.
School didn’t go much better. Arriving late, he received a tardy slip. By third period, he had two referrals, one for teacher disrespect, the other for an altercation with a friend. Those were his first of the year, which was nearly over. He racked up a second tardy when he spent time in the bathroom trying to talk himself into skipping school. On his way out from the boy’s room door, a student aide caught up with him and said he needed to report to the office. Probably about my referrals, Kevin thought.
In the school office, Mrs. Tedry the secretary called to him before he could sit down in one of the detention chairs. “Mr. Bridger wants to see you.”
Preoccupied and anticipating the worst, Kevin automatically moved in the direction of the principal’s room, not fully registering what she’d said.
“No,” she interrupted. “Go to the counseling center. Mr. Bridger wants you.”
As if everything else wasn’t screwed up, now he needed to go to the shrink’s office. Kevin made his way upstairs, conscious of his head drooping down and feet dragging the floor. He’d met Bridger only once, briefly, though he’d seen him around. The guy was tall, of medium build, with thinning, sandy hair—probably in his mid-forties. Sitting there in Bridger’s office, Kevin thought he seemed an okay man.
“You aren’t in any trouble with me, Kevin. In fact, I’ve heard you typically don’t have problems at school—this year. But because of what happened last spring, you’re more than a blip on our radar screen today.”
Kevin recalled the pepper spray he’d accidentally released in the lower hall when he headed for the gym his sophomore year. It was really all Cal’s fault. Once the spray caught in an air current from an outside door propped open for maintenance, most of the school had to evacuate because several students had allergic reactions.
Some idiot set off the fire alarm making things even worse as police and fire trucks soon arrived. Whispers of, “Do you think it was terrorists?” filtered through the ranks of disgruntled students milling about outside the building.
Mr. Bridger said, “The staff’s worried. They described you as being surly and taciturn, words never applied to you before. Mrs. Wetzel told me you’ve been disrespectful to adults and hurtful to your friends. Melody spent third period in the women’s restroom she was so hurt by what you said. Another girl brought her to my office, and they asked me to speak with you.”
Kevin, whose body was already at slouch maximum, let his head droop onto his chest. He and Melody had been good friends for a long time—three years at least. The realization he’d deeply hurt her solidified his decision to go home when he got the chance. She was just trying to help, he guessed, but why’d she have to say I should go see the counselor?
“Has something major happened to you recently?” Mr. Bridger’s genuine concern almost caused Kevin to say yes.
“No…” he replied. “I had a restless night. Didn’t get much sleep and somehow hurt my arm. I’m just having a bad day.” He couldn’t tell the truth—the guy’d think he was whacko.
Last year, the principal had insisted Kevin get a mental health evaluation after the pepper spray incident. That was messed up because Cal was the one who brought the little spray canister into the school, threatening to set it off. Jake got it away from Cal and handed it to Kevin, who was attempting to stuff it in his pocket when Cal tried to wrestle it from him. The potent spray went everywhere.
The next thing anyone knew, a teary-eyed teacher was half-yelling, half-choking in Kevin’s face. The damning evidence was still clutched in Kevin's hand, and he wouldn’t rat out his friend. Cal never came forward to reveal the truth. Not even when the police arrested Kevin. Thank goodness they hadn’t hauled him off in cuffs. He and Cal didn’t speak for a long time after that.
“We all have an occasional bad day,” said Mr. Bridger, “so I’ll assume that’s what it is. But if tomorrow starts out the same, I want you to promise you’ll come in and talk with me. Do I have your word you’ll do that?”
Kevin thought that one day like this was awful, but two would be living hell. He decided he really would come in if that occurred. “Yes,” he said.
“Just so you know—if you decide to come in later—I don’t force people to talk about things if they aren’t willing. Now, to be on the safe side, I’m giving you a pass to the counseling center for any time during the rest of today and tomorrow. Just think of it as your Get out of Jail Free card. Show it to any teacher and come on down. Okay?”
Kevin nodded yes.
“You need to know, coming down here doesn’t necessarily eliminate consequences but it helps you stay out of more trouble. Understand?”
“Yes.” Kevin left the counseling center feeling a little bit better. At least he wasn’t being ordered for another evaluation at mental health. Since his visit there last year, his mom seemed to think everything he did indicated he needed counseling. She had not believed it was Cal’s pepper spray.
Back downstairs, Kevin meandered down the long hall toward the west side of the building. At the far end of the dim corridor, an unaccountably bright light attracted his attention. It was so intense that the long hall resembled a tunnel.
When he arrived at the juncture formed from adding the newer wing, Kevin decided to go out the side exit for home. Hurriedly, he forced the door open to make his escape, accidentally banging into someone who was attempting to enter.
“I’m sorry.” he said. “Are you all right?” He gazed more directly at the other person, his initial concern transforming into stricken shock.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not hurt.”
He stood there unable to reply, looking down into animated blue eyes. There was a healthy pink hue to her cheeks, accentuated by her light, rose-colored lip-gloss. Her mouth crinkled into a warm smile, lighting her rounded face, which was surrounded by medium-length blonde hair.
Unbelievably, hers was the very image he’d seen sprawled on the brass bed in his nightmare. Now, however, she was fully clothed, appearing vibrant and very much alive.
She asked, “Do I know you?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You look familiar,” she said, “and it seemed like maybe you recognize me from somewhere.”
“You resemble someone I used to know,” he lied, feeling lame. His mind worked wildly, trying to understand things that made no sense.
“We just moved here,” she said, “and I don’t know my way around. My stepfather signed me into school but I need to find the office and see about my classes. Can you tell me where it is?”
He pointed and replied, “At the other end of the hall…up the stairs. You can’t miss it.” He couldn’t imagine why she’d come in this door. She was really lost.
“Thanks, I don’t know anyone here and I’m a little nervous. I’ve never had to move before…it’s my senior year.” Her tone had turned somber and then brightened as she added, “My name’s Misty, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Misty. My name’s Kevin. Too bad you had to move before you could graduate from your old school, but you’ll see that students here are friendly.” He thought this was the worst possible day to meet a pretty, new student. His hand migrated to his face, detecting the few days’ worth of whiskers—well, kind-of-whiskers. Had he combed his hair? He must really be a sight. Also, she was a senior—and he was a junior.
Misty stood there, seemingly reluctant to walk down the hallway to the office.
“Oh,” he said, “I’ll show you where it is.”
“Would you? I know it seems silly but I’m really nervous about starting a new school. I keep telling myself I should quit being a baby.”
They walked slowly down the hallway.
“Where did you move from?”
“Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. I’ve lived there my whole life till now.”
“How come you moved to The Dalles?”
“My stepfather sold a business in Coeur d’Alene and bought one here. He said we could delay our move. I thought it would be better coming here now, but I miss all my friends.”
“Yeah…” Kevin nodded.
Coming down the hall was a young man built like a super-jock. “Hey, Conners. New student?”
“Yes…just moved here,” Kevin said.
The other guy added, “Why don’t I show her around?”
“Kevin’s already helping...thanks.”
That didn’t faze the newcomer. “I’m Brad, the unofficial greeter. I orient all the new students. He won’t mind.” Brad gave Kevin a threatening look as he attempted to move between them.
She said curtly, “No.” and intertwining her arm with Kevin’s, they began moving down the hallway again, leaving Brad standing in uncomfortable silence. Kevin knew the athlete was accustomed to getting his own way—especially where girls were concerned.
“Hey,” Misty said as they put more distance between themselves and the would-be interloper. “We just moved into our home down by the courthouse. Want to come over later? You’re the only person I know here.”
Kevin’s brow knitted as he realized the girl from his nightmare had apparently moved into the very house from the bad dream. He struggled to refocus. “Yes, I can do that.” He thought she might change her mind by the end of the day. By then, she would meet other students and feel more secure.
“I know,” she said, “why don’t you come over after school, if you don’t have other plans?”
“I don’t, but you may be busy this afternoon…once you meet more kids.”
Misty stopped and turned, looking into his eyes. “So…you think you might show up at my house and find it already full of other guys?”
“No,” he replied, thinking she must have read his mind. “It’s just that…”
She broke in, “I guess the guys in The Dalles are going to turn out to be as dense as the ones in Coeur d’Alene, so let me put it this way. 'Do you want to hang out with me this afternoon?'”
“Yes.”
She asked, “Where do you live?”
“On Sixth Place, just a few blocks from your house.”
“Cool.” Reaching into her bag, she found a little notepad and a pen. “I’m going to put my phone and address down for you. We don’t have our new mobiles yet but the house line is in. I want you to write down your home number and address for me. Okay?”
From nightmare to dream come true, he thought. One of the prettiest girls he’d ever met was giving him her number without being asked. Maybe his worst-starting-day would turn out ending the best—and yet, a shiver ran down his back.
When they’d exchanged information, Misty looked at him and said, “I feel a little better about this new school, now that I’ve met you.”
She studied his face curiously, as though she saw something familiar there. “I’m not certain why, but it seems like we already know each other. After school…I think I’ll…” She seemed suddenly unsure of herself. “Maybe I’ll come visit. Is that alright?”
“Sure.” He felt giddy that she wanted to spend time with him and yet unsure how to deal with the reality of this young woman—and his nightmare. Another chill erupted.
They walked to the office in silence. Inside, Mrs. Tedry glanced up and began helping Misty. Kevin absently scanned a copy of The Dalles Chronicle lying nearby. He was startled to see the headline. Search for Cat Burglar Continues.
Mrs. Tedry gave Misty her class schedule. “Your school records should be here next week. We requested they rush them because it’s so close to the end of the year.” She turned to Kevin as the phone began to ring. “Where do you need to be young man?”
He held up the counseling pass.
Misty turned. “Thanks. See you this afternoon.”
Kevin found himself moving toward, of all places, the counseling center….
Website copyright © 2011-2013 by EA Bundy. All rights reserved. None of the text, photos, or illustrations may be used without the author or publisher’s—Singing Winds Press—written permission. (Please note, Singing Winds Press is closed to submissions.) The Pigeon Catcher paperback is copyright 2012 by EA Bundy