Chapter Two

Marshall Crawford

I was up before Margaret or the kids. I was always an early riser. And with being an early riser I make breakfast. Just simple sausage, egg, and toast. Nothing fancy.

No human.

Now that would give new meaning to "sausage festival."

I felt arms come around my waist, seeing blonde hair at the corner of my eye and a soft kiss on my neck above my faded tee shirt collar. I smiled, my free hand going to hold her hand as the sausage cooked. "Good morning beautiful."

She smiled, nearly melting into my back. "I’ll never get tired of hearing that."

I turned the sausage a bit before turning myself around, seeing the blush on my wife's face. I smiled, leaning in and kissing her softly, cupping the side of her face with my hand, caressing her soft skin.

She pulled away, giggling. "Let's stop before the kids catch us doing more than cooking." I laughed softly before turning around to the sausage.

Just as I turned to flip the sausage I heard footsteps, heavier ones come down the stairs. Must be Mason. He always had heavy steps. I was proven right as he walked into the kitchen. Old tee shirt on with lounge pants, hair sticking everywhere. "Morning son." I smiled to him.

He grunted in response, going to the coffee maker. My wife chuckled. "Ever the morning person you are." Mason just gave her a weak smile while setting the coffee maker up. "You two aren’t human I swear. No one human is this perky at 7AM."

She gave him a small ruffle of his hair with an amused chuckle. "Good morning to you too."

the atmosphere of the kitchen was calming, the coffee maker drip dropped, the smell of coffee floating everywhere, Mikey then came rushing down the stairs, running. "Breakfast!" He shouted.

My wife and I had a good laugh at his excitement, Mason just shook his head, watching the coffee drip, almost willing it to go faster. Margret walked over to Mikey, ruffling his blonde hair. "Is that the only reason you’re awake?"

He looked up at her. "No. There’s cartoons. It's Saturday."

She rolled her eyes. "How sweet you are to join us"

He just walked into the living room, plopping down on the couch and turning the television on to his channel, the sound of Saturday morning cartoons filling the air.

This is what the American dream is made of. This is what I dreamed of when I was fifteen and running through freezing rain-drenched woods. This is what I would imagine when I was eight years old and wondering what life was like outside. The smell of sausage, bacon and coffee with my youngest child’s laughter mixing in the air only added to the beautiful picture.

We should be on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens.

The only thing missing was Morgan. She was always a late sleeper but now with the new information about her school life, it made me worry. Margret must have noticed that as I was putting the sausage on a plate. I felt her hand on my arm. "Hey.." Her soft voice. I looked over. She smiled weakly. "She's ok. You know she’s a late sleeper." I smiled weakly.

She always knew when I was worried or scared. I nodded, getting the bacon ready as she got ready to cook eggs. She walked into the living room, speaking to the boys. "Who wants what?"

I heard Mikey speak first. "Scrambled!"

Mason was next. "Cheese omelette?"

Within moments she was back at my side, crackling eggs into a bowl.

Soon everything was ready as Margret and I got the table set. She called them. "Boys! Breakfast!"

Mikey ran in, Mason close behind with his mug of coffee. I put Mikey's plate in front of him, handing him a napkin. "Put this on your lap, please." Mikey took the napkin, doing as I said. He could be a messy eater and always wiped his hands on his clothes.

This at least saves us some mess and teaches him manners. "Like this daddy?" I smiled. "Very good." He smiled, starting to eat. Margret gave Mason his plate, making him grump a little "Mom, I can get my own plate."

"I know you can. I gave you three eggs in your omelet. You’re going to need your strength today for practice." He nodded, starting to eat but I saw the small, fond smile. That boy is such a softie for someone so large. A gentle giant.

Once Mason ate all his food he left the table to get ready for his football practice then Mikey finished, he crushed his napkin into a ball and nearly ran into the living room until Margret caught his arm. His face had various spots of ketchup on him. "Just a second mister. You’re a mess."

She spit on her napkin, wiping some of the spots away as he wiggled. He groaned and tried to wiggle out of her hold. "Mom! Stop!"

"Well if you could learn to eat your food and not wear it."

I chuckled, cleaning up some of the table, watching the exchange. She stopped once he was clean. "There, you’re free." He ran into the living room, to watch his cartoons.

As I got to the kitchen, placing the plates into the sink, Margret walked in, holding my cell. "Work is calling you." She had a weird look because it was Saturday.

I had off weekends. I picked up. "Hello, Marshall." I listened for a few more moments before sighing. "Yeah. I'll be in soon as I can." I hung up, looking at Margret. "Duty calls. There has been three call-off's and only two people there to man the stations."

She nodded. "You go get ready, I got things handled here. It's Saturday so it's probably busy there." I nodded, walking out of the kitchen, nearly running into Morgan. "Oh, hey." She waved before moving her hair behind her ear. "Morning. I guess I missed breakfast."

I chuckled. "Yeah but talk to Mom, I'm sure she can whip you up something." She smiled weakly before going over to Margret in the kitchen.

Mason had taken our old Explorer to practice since I had to go to work. I walked down the stairs, now straightening my tie, suit jacket hooked over my elbow as I went around to say my goodbyes. I kissed an oblivious Mikey on his head, transfixed by his cartoons. "Bye son, daddy has to go to work."

"Okay."

I rolled my eyes, going to Morgan who was eating breakfast in the dining room, playing some kind of game on her phone, I kissed her head. "See you later sweetie." "It's sad you have work today."

I chuckled. "I know but I'm the manager, duty calls." She shrugged. I went to Margret who was washing dishes. I put my jacket on before hugging her close, kissing her neck. She smiled. "I hate you have to go."

"I know but duty calls." She turned, kissing me softly, holding me close. "Just be careful."

I didn't know the extent those words would go until hours from now. I nodded, holding her close, kissing her head. "I love you."

"I love you too."

I drove the thirty minute commute to the bank, parking in my reserved parking space. I saw there were two large lines in the bank.

Saturday was always a busy day. The one day most of people have off to do anything. I walked in, waving to a few people before going into my office to set up and clock in. I placed my coat jacket on my chair and rolling my sleeves up. I liked to have my jacket just in case of a cold day. I clocked in, seeing my friend and co-worker Carol, drinking water from her water bottle.

"Morning Carol."

She looked over. “How are you so awake this early?”

I just shrugged. She sighed. “It’s been non-stop all morning. Three guys hit on me, it was creepy."

I chuckled. "Oh no, the opposite sex finding you attractive, stop the presses." She gave a sarcastic laugh. "Haha, you’re hilarious. It would have been nice had they actually been in my age group and not seventy and married."

I chuckled, sipping some water as well. Carol was an attractive woman. She was in her early thirties, long dark hair, thin structure but filling out nicely where it counts. After the small conversation, we went to our teller booths. I'm not always a teller. Most of the time I'll handle bigger things in the office like loans.

It took hours for it to slow down. Finally, we could have a small break. Or so I thought until the door was busted open by a crazed man with a large rifle, firing a warning shot into the ceiling.

"This is a robbery! Just put the money in the bag and nobody gets hurt!" Then another walked in, holding two large pillowcases ready to be filled. He started going around as we all put our hands up. Once the startling fear of the robbery settled and we realized this was happening I finally got a good look at the man with the rifle, making my heart stop.

He looked exactly like Beau. The one I lived with in the middle of the woods, hidden away from society and civilization. One of the two that would come into my room and molest me, hurt me. He must have seen my look of shock and fear, just staring at him.

He growled, walking over, rifle in my face. "Hey! String bean! What you staring at pretty boy!? Got something to say?!" After a few seconds of silence, he just sneered. "Didn't think so. You pretty boys are all alike. Got no balls-" I finally broke myself from my thoughts, grabbing his rifle barrel and punching him in the face, hard.

It put enough shock and pain into him that he let go of the rifle to hold his bleeding nose, nearly falling on the floor. Now that I had the rifle, I held it, pointing it at him with a glare. "You and your cohort are going to stay where you are or you'll get a stomach filled with lead. Got it?" He nodded, still holding his nose, the other cohort that was holding the bag, very obviously had urinated on himself if the large wet spot in the front of his pants is any indication. I pointed it at him and then to the ground. "Sit." He followed my orders, sitting next to his friend. "Stay." They both looked away from me.

Good.

Cause at this moment I don't trust myself not to kill him if he starts running his mouth again. I knew logically he wasn't my cousin. Too young, too healthy, and too smart. They would never come out of their house in the woods unless for food. But dammit did he look like him. Every horrible memory trying to push itself to the front of my mind. I heard one of the other girls on the phone with the police. It wouldn't be long now.

Once the police arrived they took them into custody and asked us all questions about it. I hoped this didn't reach the media too much. I didn't want to attract any copycats. Once all the questions and exams were over, we were able to go home, closing early. I looked at my phone. No missed calls. Good. I watched as everyone went to their cars as I went to mine, calling Margret as I got in the driver’s seat, feeling everything finally set in, feeling heavy. "Hey, sweetie."She said as I ran a shaking hand through my chestnut hair.

"Hey."

"Is everything ok?"

I let out a breath, feeling a lump grow and I wasn't sure why. "No." I paused, gathering my composure. That man’s face never left my mind. I managed to continue. "There was a robbery."

"Oh my God. Are you ok?"

I sighed. "Yeah, everyone is ok. No one got hurt. Just shaken up."

"Are you coming home?"

"Yeah. I'm coming home." My eyes watered over quickly, before I could wipe a tear away one fell. This was affecting me more than I thought. I know that wasn't Beau. I know this. But it’s still trying to bring up everything I've worked so hard to bury. I hung up, getting ready to turn the key in the ignition when a tap on my window startled me, making me look over, and seeing Carol looking worried.

I put down my window. "Hey, you alright?"

She smiled weakly. “I'm fine. Shaken up, but fine. You ok boss man?"

I smiled weakly. She was one of the few good friends I have. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just going to go home, relax. Watch some cartoons with Mikey." She nodded. "Sounds nice." A sad smile was on her face. And had that man had any other face but his I would invite her over but I didn't trust myself right now. Didn't trust my anxiety not to show itself at the worst time. "Have a nice rest of your day boss man." She started walking away to her own car. "You too." I started the car, drove out of the parking lot.

I finally got home, parking in the garage. I turned off the ignition. Finally, feeling safe. I was home. I started to get out of the car when the door to the garage opened. I looked over the car, seeing Margret. She ran around the car to me, hugging me tightly. "Oh thank God you’re alright."

I hugged her back, tightly, smelling the apple scent of her hair. Letting it embrace me.

"Do the kids know?" I asked.

“I don’t think so.” I sighed, heavily.

She spoke up, petting the little hairs on the back of my neck. "Wanna talk about it?” I let out a shaky breath. "He looked like him, my cousin, Beau. The family the kids have no idea about." Margret frowned, stepping back a moment to look me in the eye. "Was it...him?"

I shook my head. "No. No. This guy was too young, too smart but...God he looked like he came right out of my past." She hugged me again, letting out a breath. "How about we just have spaghetti tonight. You're favorite." I smiled, kissing her head. "Sounds great."

We got upstairs to the kitchen when my cell started ringing. I saw it was my mom. Well, my adoptive mom. I signaled my wife that I would be a minute. I answered the call. "Hey mom."

"Oh good you’re okay. It was on the news that there was a robbery at your bank."

I closed my eyes, sighing. So much for no media coverage. "Everyone got out safe. There's no need to worry."

"There's every reason to worry Marshall! What if another robber tries your bank?" I leaned against the wall. Using it as a physical and emotional support.

I closed my eyes groaning. "Mom, please. I'd rather not talk about this right now." My mom sighed. "Your right. It was horrible of me to bring that up. I just worry. What are you and Margret making for dinner?"

I smiled weakly. "Spaghetti. Just some comfort food."

“Well tell her and the kids I said hi. Make sure to visit why don't ya? I'm not getting any younger."

"I will Mom. I love you too. Bye."

I hung up, sighing, walking into the kitchen.

Margret was stirring sauce, adding spices into the crock pot. I brought my arms around her waist. Holding her close, letting her presence soothe me. "Where's Mikey at?" I spoke into her neck.

She made a relaxed sound before speaking. "Taking a nap. Mason’s at practice and Morgan has been in her room all day." I kissed my wife's head before letting go of her waist. "I’ll go check on her."

I walked up the stairs, going to Morgan's poster covered door, I knocked. "Morgan?"

There still wasn't an answer. I knocked again, louder. "Morgan!"

I sighed. There still wasn't an answer or sounds of movement. I was getting more worried by the second. "Ok. I'm coming in."

I opened the door, walking inside. I walked further in, seeing there was no sign of her. I called her cell phone and nothing. Her window was open as well. This was bad. I walked into the living room, Margret watching TV while the sauce cooked the spices in. She stopped when she saw how worried I must look. "She's not in her room. She must have snuck out. The window was open and she's not answering her phone."

Margret stood up, worry clearly on her face. “Should we call the cops?" I shook my head. "Not just yet. How long has she been in her room?" "Since after breakfast. She came down once for a drink." I nodded. I called Mason, seeing if he could find her first, ask around the school.

It would be another hour before Mason called saying he found her and was taking her to the hospital.

For some, it is a constant presence that follows them reliably as they traverse the unknown that is their future, like a friendly figure that paints the sidewalk behind you on a bright, summer day. It is an afterthought that you only come to recognize in moments of quiet acknowledgement; when you’re contorting your hands to make blobs that resemble dogs or frogs. Life is a friend who silently watches as you exist and grow, and it grows alongside you.

For others, it is a monster. The shadow in the corner of your eye as you walk around your house alone in the night. It is that dark spot across the room in the form of a man, or the form of a creature who could reach out and touch you. It is a source of fear, like a child being chased by their own dark figment for the first time. Their shadow is a constant presence that follows them reliably, constantly nagging at their brain as they wish for peace and pray for help. Their shadow carries a weight, and it blocks out the light of the sun until there is nothing but shadow and they can only blame the dark for every iniquity of the life befallen them until they wish for nothing. They wish for the shadow to be gone, even if there is no sun thereafter.

Life’s but a walking shadow.