Read Online Shattered Castles 1 : Castles on the Sand by E. M. Tippetts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: E. M. Tippetts
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way.”
“You came across like you think my life is your business and I need a protector, which I don't.”
“What happened to your face? Please tell me.”
“He didn't hit me.”
“I heard that. Who did?”
“What was all that stuff about racism?”
At that my brother scuffs his foot in the dirt. “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints didn't ordain blacks for a while. If you want to dig deeper into all of that, I'm sure I could find you some articles and stuff to read. But the thing is, God is not a racist, and we operate by revelation from God, so whatever His reason was for that, we can only guess. Black people being inferior is clearly not the reason.”
Yeah, I think, that doesn't sound crazy... “Revelation from God, huh?”
“Yeah. You get that we're a religious organization, right? I thought we were pretty up front about that.”
“I need to go to work.”
“Can I walk with you?”
“I don't know, can you?” I climb up to the sidewalk and he follows me. From the way he behaves, I know he'd follow me no matter what I said.
“Who did that to your face?”
“I did. Walked into a door.”
“I don't believe you.”
I shrug. “Then don't.”
“I care about you, okay? Please, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Stay out of my love life.”
“Not a chance. Anything else?”
I pick up the pace.
“Madison, listen, that guy's bad news.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Speaking as another guy, him mocking me for wanting to protect you-”
“I don't need protection.” I round on my brother and glare. “I don't even know you, so don't just show up in my life and tell me what to do.”
“You got your face mashed in. You aren't a poster child for 'I can take care of myself.'”
I turn my back on him. He's just wasting my time.
“Listen, sister I only just found and am already having an argument with...”
I keep walking. The sound of running footsteps behind me only makes me walk faster.
“Wait. Slow down.”
I speed up.
“Just... I wanted to talk to Mom too. Can you tell me where to find Mom?”
“She won't like that.” I stop and turn.
He blinks as if I've jabbed him in the nose. I have to remind myself that for him, Mom is a close relative he remembers. For me, it's different. This guy telling me off might as well be my eighth cousin. Related, but who cares? I take a deep breath. “She doesn't want you to go back to your father with all your judgments about how we've done since she left.”
I watch my brother process that. “I don't talk to... our dad. He'd be your father too.”
“I'm a Lukas. I would guess that means-”
“No, I know we've got the same father. It's obvious. Mr. Lukas has dark hair and olive skin-”
“You know him?”
“Mom's old art teacher. He was my high school art teacher and I am really glad I didn't know you had his name. I have no idea what went down all those years ago, I just remember the fights and you and Mom leaving. His name came up, but I guess I didn't really think about what that meant at the time. I was too little.”
“Well, anyway-”
“I'd like to see her, even if it'll upset her. I don't want to upset her, but I haven't seen her in fifteen years and, I just want to. Nothing will get back to Dad. I haven't spoken to him in three years. Didn't even call him on Christmas. We're estranged.”
I know it's low of me to dump him on Mom, but he really is annoying me. “Thursday is when Mom does her deliveries to the art gallery and stuff. She'll be somewhere between our house and the Pelican Sky Gallery.” I point to Ridge Road. “You know where that is?”
“I'll find it. Not exactly a lot of winding roads in this town.”
“Okay, well... I gotta go to work.”
“I'll come find you after. See you soon.” He waves and jogs off towards Ridge Road.
I walk the rest of the way to work. Siraj looks up from where he sits behind the circulation desk. “How was school?”
“Fine.” I sit down, put my backpack
“You came across like you think my life is your business and I need a protector, which I don't.”
“What happened to your face? Please tell me.”
“He didn't hit me.”
“I heard that. Who did?”
“What was all that stuff about racism?”
At that my brother scuffs his foot in the dirt. “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints didn't ordain blacks for a while. If you want to dig deeper into all of that, I'm sure I could find you some articles and stuff to read. But the thing is, God is not a racist, and we operate by revelation from God, so whatever His reason was for that, we can only guess. Black people being inferior is clearly not the reason.”
Yeah, I think, that doesn't sound crazy... “Revelation from God, huh?”
“Yeah. You get that we're a religious organization, right? I thought we were pretty up front about that.”
“I need to go to work.”
“Can I walk with you?”
“I don't know, can you?” I climb up to the sidewalk and he follows me. From the way he behaves, I know he'd follow me no matter what I said.
“Who did that to your face?”
“I did. Walked into a door.”
“I don't believe you.”
I shrug. “Then don't.”
“I care about you, okay? Please, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Stay out of my love life.”
“Not a chance. Anything else?”
I pick up the pace.
“Madison, listen, that guy's bad news.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Speaking as another guy, him mocking me for wanting to protect you-”
“I don't need protection.” I round on my brother and glare. “I don't even know you, so don't just show up in my life and tell me what to do.”
“You got your face mashed in. You aren't a poster child for 'I can take care of myself.'”
I turn my back on him. He's just wasting my time.
“Listen, sister I only just found and am already having an argument with...”
I keep walking. The sound of running footsteps behind me only makes me walk faster.
“Wait. Slow down.”
I speed up.
“Just... I wanted to talk to Mom too. Can you tell me where to find Mom?”
“She won't like that.” I stop and turn.
He blinks as if I've jabbed him in the nose. I have to remind myself that for him, Mom is a close relative he remembers. For me, it's different. This guy telling me off might as well be my eighth cousin. Related, but who cares? I take a deep breath. “She doesn't want you to go back to your father with all your judgments about how we've done since she left.”
I watch my brother process that. “I don't talk to... our dad. He'd be your father too.”
“I'm a Lukas. I would guess that means-”
“No, I know we've got the same father. It's obvious. Mr. Lukas has dark hair and olive skin-”
“You know him?”
“Mom's old art teacher. He was my high school art teacher and I am really glad I didn't know you had his name. I have no idea what went down all those years ago, I just remember the fights and you and Mom leaving. His name came up, but I guess I didn't really think about what that meant at the time. I was too little.”
“Well, anyway-”
“I'd like to see her, even if it'll upset her. I don't want to upset her, but I haven't seen her in fifteen years and, I just want to. Nothing will get back to Dad. I haven't spoken to him in three years. Didn't even call him on Christmas. We're estranged.”
I know it's low of me to dump him on Mom, but he really is annoying me. “Thursday is when Mom does her deliveries to the art gallery and stuff. She'll be somewhere between our house and the Pelican Sky Gallery.” I point to Ridge Road. “You know where that is?”
“I'll find it. Not exactly a lot of winding roads in this town.”
“Okay, well... I gotta go to work.”
“I'll come find you after. See you soon.” He waves and jogs off towards Ridge Road.
I walk the rest of the way to work. Siraj looks up from where he sits behind the circulation desk. “How was school?”
“Fine.” I sit down, put my backpack
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