Ashes Remain

by Alethea Stauron

  Artie back steps, until, pacing outside with the information causing severe stomach cramps. Just as he thinks his countenance will help to calm a comrade, his eyes fall with a buzz over his skin. One of his wristbands blinks three bursts. “No…” Artie seals his eyes, “not now.”

  Josephine brings in groceries as Leo stretches across her legs for attention. “Not right now, buddy,” spoken across a white prescription bag balancing between teeth. Three countertops and finally empty arms, she hunches down to pet him. “I thought you were in the room.” Her eyes scan over toward the banister. Her bedroom door is shut. She leans down and pets Leo as a smile paints across Lucius’s face.

  Lucius decides to walk surveillance with his eyes glowing in different shades of Gamerin color. Each color signifies his ability to see any heat signatures, infrared bodies, long distances, or through objects. He’s outside the breakfast nook with driveway gravel silently under his moseying feet. The shade of early afternoon cools a spot beside the house, so he props himself against the wall and listens to the atmosphere to make his safety scans.

  Not long and, “Lucius…” Artie said with hesitation.

  Lucius uprights himself and revolves toward Artie, who is taking his time to walk around the house. “What are you…” but can’t finish his question when examining the expression walking cautiously toward him. “Artie?” Artie’s nostrils are flaring. Clearly upset. Definitely anxious from the way he hangs his shoulders and shuffles feet. Not his normal jog over. His head jiggles in almost shaking it. Enough to bring gravity into a conversation that has not even started. Lucius lowers his eyes and glares, “What did he do?”

  Artie tries blocking his mind, “Lord —

  “Artie…” Lucius spoke openly, “you can’t shield your mind from me. Show me what you saw.”

  Artie swings an apologetic hand. “Lucius, please? It would be better if I told you. Please don’t pluck this from my mind? I didn’t think it, so I don’t want it linked to me in your heart.”

  Lucius lowers his hand gradually with a sinking feeling in his gut. “I saw part of it. I’ll allow you to deliver the news as you see fit. Please know I saw him. I heard him say get rid of her. Start with that. Tell me what he means.”

  Artie tries maintaining eye contact, “I’m sorry…” but he tears up “Lucius, I’m sorry you’re here. I’m sorry you ever came. I’m sorry you ever met her. I’m sorry. Sometimes, it’s beyond anything we can do. I would take this from you if I could.”

  Lucius becomes flaccid. His blood stops flowing. “Tell me,” he whispered.

  “He’s worse. He owes a lot of money. A lot. They’re looking for him and making him really desperate.”

  “What are you telling me? Why should I care about his problems? He’s about to leave. When he gets better, she’s —

  “He was never planning on leaving, Lucius.” Artie’s appearance plummets. A silence between them falls with Lucius’s breath. Lucius is holding himself together with his eyes glazing over. The same expression Lucius had when he lost his brothers. Artie knows the look. The look of Lucius’s world falling apart.

  And powerless to do anything about it.

  Artie continues, “He went through her files. A little forging is all he needs. He knows he doesn’t need her for half of the money.” He hesitates for a moment, wishing he didn’t have a brighter side of the news. “Um… but luckily he wants it all. He wants as much as he can without getting caught. He’s giving her one more chance. A chance to save her life.”

  Lucius’s teeth stick together, “What chance?”

  “Marriage. She’s a meal ticket. Or he’s getting rid of her somehow. He doesn’t need her for most of it.”

  “I’d rather suffer a thousand deaths than see her in the devil’s arms.”

  “He doesn’t care one way or the other, Lucius.” Artie stares over toward silver boiling over a glossy red. Artie continues, “This isn’t your jurisdiction. I know you. I know what you wanna do. But you’re Gamerin and you can always find a way. A better way if there is one.”

  Lucius exhales, “I’m gonna kill—

  “I was called away.” He paused with the silence weighing ten thousand pounds. Lucius freezes with pleading eyes over, as Artie continues, “I waited for you to get back. They told me to deliver you a message before I leave.” Artie activates a time belt over his wrist with telepathy. An ancient language displays a minor encryption. His remaining time before his next mission. Artie continues, “I have to show for report. I only have moments.”

  “Artie, what did they say? What’s the message? Did you tell them —

  “You’ve been ordered,” dislodging his expression, Artie gapes down, “Sir, please don’t be angry with my obedience? They asked about Drake.”

  “What did they say?”

  Artie’s eyes meet his. “You’ve been ordered not to lay a hand on Drake.” Lucius’s expression turns stagnant. His knees buckle and grabs stones of the chimney for support. Artie says, “You can’t touch him.”

  “Who said?”

  Artie back steps with wind against his back and a sky growing dark with thunderclouds. He points toward Drake’s room, “They’re going to know it was you, if he so much as sneezes in the wrong way. There’s nothing we can do. She has to be looking first.”

  “But that’s her father! That’s what I was trying to do.”

  “No, Lucius. She has to find us first.” He gazes at the weather change and directs his eyes back toward Lucius barely standing. Artie reminds him, “You know how it works. We can only do so much.”

  “Artie?”

  “Lucius, you might need to rethink your feelings. This sort of thing never happens. Be glad.”

  “Glad?”

  “That you didn’t break the rules like your brothers. That she didn’t turn on you like she’s doing with him.”

  “Artie,” and Lucius tries calming the clouds before asking, “… when are you coming back?” His heart nearly stops, watching his friend’s expression barely nudge with a negative wobble.

  Artie says, “I’ve been ordered to stay away. I’m not under your orders. Only if she calls, Lucius. I follow their orders, not yours. Please, don’t be mad? This is who we are.”

  “I know I’m gonna kill him.”

  “You don’t have that authority.”

  Lucius says, “I’m not gonna let some craven jackass kill her, Artie. He has deceived her in every possible way. She can’t even get out of the hole he’s dug her into. I’m the only one that can save her.” His eyes pierce toward Artie. “If he violates her in any way —

  “Don’t play their game. We can’t lose you too.” Artie rubs over his shirt, activating a medallion hidden from view. A slim portal opens at an angle from Lucius. Artie glances once more over. “Don’t forget who you are. The king of the Gamerin. My king. Always the right thing.” Artie steps through, vanishing from Josephine’s property.

  ◆◆◆

  In silence Lucius stands. Trying to stand. Weakness takes over. Lucius squats from troubled knees between the chimney and kitchen nook. His mind is reeling with a tornado of thoughts and wind kicking up outside. No help. No intervention. He can only watch as unholy deeds unfold. Watching her possibly held by Drake to save her life or losing her by death. The thought churns his stomach.

  Weeping swallows his eyes, remembering every night holding her. Every night wanting to pour out whatever love he could offer for her to stay faithful. Losing the warm spot beside her on the bed to someone unworthy to exist in his eyes. His chest feels as though lightning burns through, knowing he’ll never love again. He could never stop loving her. The pain of releasing her, so she might live? A cruel joke of his existence. He stares with glossy eyes, as the dilapidated shed becomes a haze with his vision. A haze that drowns with the sound of raindrops over a tin roof and his lashes. Distorted beyond recognition and trying to hold in his wailing outside her walls. Colors of trees mix with tarnishing cream paint and ivory. He rubs his fingers t
hrough his hair, sinking his head between his knees. Anything to comfort himself, pretending she holds him like a mother. In a bittersweet way, the pain worsens, but the thought keeps him sane. Keeps him from running inside and holding her. From taking her through a portal of his own, knowing he would be wanted and punished for abducting her.

  Faintly at first, the wind is interrupted. The pulsing of his blood and him swallowing his emotions is overlapped by her voice. Her singing. He hadn’t realized he wasn’t breathing with the rain. A gasp rushes through his lungs. Her voice is beautiful to him. In a burst, guttural sobbing takes over. He’s wailing like he had done countless times on his beach, but this time on a muddy driveway. The driveway of a woman he might never be able to marry. He’s losing everything. Again.

  Josephine believes she’s helping David, along with a poor soul. She sings innocently while putting away groceries. Still in love with Lucius. He’s there. So close, but might as well be a million miles away. There are rules and he’s not allowed to touch Drake. She doesn’t know who she is or what her future is… but still… she’s singing.

  Josephine prepares chicken soup, and Lucius wipes a drowning sleeve over his nose. He’s on the muddy driveway, and Josephine swings her refrigerator door open, swiping a chicken breast from a shelf. But all the sudden, she stops. Out of nowhere she stops moving from a crushing sensation hitting her thoughts.

  Normally, she loves the rain, but this is different. She feels her chest flooded with burden. The same feeling from the night the ice storm had hit. As if she can hear Lucius crying. Not in her ears, but in her heart. She squats almost identical to Lucius outside the house. She stares across lit up plastic shelving and a cool fan spinning from her fridge. “Lucius,” she whispered. The feeling of dread grows stronger. “Lucius,” the urgency of him comes to mind, almost as if she can see him broken on the battlefield, and giving up. Her pulse slows, soaking in the shattered sensation. Almost as if in a different dimension with him. Like a dream whipped up from somewhere else. “Baby, fight for me,” she finally pressed out.

  His feet jump from under him, racing through the wall. His eyes stagger down at her and steps closer. What’s she doing, studying her position on the floor. He wipes his soaked nose and cheeks. Baby, what’s wrong with you? He kneels beside her. Camouflaged and concerned for her. He reads every thought like medicine through his heartache.

  She gasps, “I hope you’re okay.” Cold chicken in a sandwich bag rests in her grip and cools the blood of her fingertips. Several minutes pass before she’s able to speak, “I feel like you’re hurt.” He anchors himself down with rolling fingers through his hair. She presses her hand firmly against her chest. Chicken still wrapped in plastic. She’s trying not to scream, “I feel like I’m crazy sometimes,” sniveling her nose, “It’s like I’m the only one in the world that feels this. Like I’m different from everyone else. Like I’m not from here… but… Lucius…” she squashes her eyes shut, streaming tears as she holds back, as best she can. “I feel you.” Her chest quivers, “Please, be okay?”

  His brow crushes his lids closed as he fights his submission to fate. He smells her hair only inches from him, trembling to keep from touching her. To keep from making it worse than he already has. “I love you,” he hardly whispered, like a wisp of gentle air softer than a butterfly’s wings. He said it. He’s not taking it back either. “I’ll fight for you.” He clasps his hands tightly together, keeping from embracing her. “I love you.”

  Her bottom hits the floor. “Baby, come back to me.”

  He nods. My presence… she knows me. This can’t be a coincidence. He keeps his distance and patrols in the living room to calm down for a while. He thinks, She’s connected to me. There is really a link between us. I’m gonna fight for her. Just as Drake’s bedroom door opens, freshly sprayed cologne enters Lucius’s nose. “The heck?”

  Josephine hears the creaks of wooden steps. “I’m making chicken soup. I hope you’re hungry.”

  Drake’s feet shuffle with every step, as if pulling pieces of wood flooring up. He drags himself over her shoulder, not the slightest concern for personal space in order to introduce his manly smell. “I hate chicken soup,” he said, almost slobbering over her.

  Lucius chomps his fist when watching.

  Josephine skids catty corner, giving herself plenty of space from him, and… his aroma. She stirs the tea together with sugar, “Come on. You have to at least try it.”

  Drake tries again, standing almost directly behind her. “I can’t do much, but I still have one arm. Would you like me to stir your tea up?”

  She shakes her head, going back to her first station of blending flavors of soup. “It’s okay. Everything is pretty much done.”

  He flips his middle finger at her turned backside then walks toward barstools. “I still don’t like chicken soup.”

  “It’s good. Somebody made it for me one time.”

  He plops over a stool, resting his casted arm over the bar, “It’s not that guy’s recipe is it?” His condescension almost breathable, “Then I definitely don’t want any.”

  “Why would you say that?” She pivots toward him, “You don’t even know who he is.”

  “You know…” Drake pauses to look at her, “you have a problem with getting bad friends that don’t stick up for you. They’re either selfish and crazy, or they split. You should forget about him. He doesn’t care.” He directs two thumbs toward himself, “I’m a guy. I know.”

  She swings back toward a bubbling stove, giving herself a moment to keep what she really wants to say from slipping out of her mouth. But the remark is too hard to resist and slides from under her breath, “It’s still a good recipe. And, he’s still a good man.”

  Drake bowls his eyes, “But didn’t he walk out on you?”

  “It didn’t happen like that…” her voice trails off, “exactly.”

  “Josephine, you could do better. You’re like me. We both have big hearts. We give to those in need and never ask for anything in return.”

  Josephine barely nods her head. “Uh huh,” half spoken.

  He clears his throat, “I think you’re wonderful, Josephine. You know that?”

  “Know what?” She questions with a turn, “What did you say?”

  “I said, I think you’re wonderful. What do you think about me?”

  “Thank you,” she tells him, “You’re very sweet. You like to help others, like you just said.”

  Lucius stands within inches of her. His mind begging. His eyes pleading without being seen or heard. Baby, please remember me, but he never says it. He wants to say it, how he wants to bang on the front door. Sweep her up in his arms. Tell her everything. His stomach tosses and his soul screams, Tell him, no. But he never says it. He can’t because they would know and they always find out. Lucius holds his breath, knowing that either answer she could give… is horrendous. He mustn’t intervene.

  “Josephine,” Drake carries on, “I’d never push you away like that other guy. I know how to treat a lady.” Lucius’s eyes glide across the room with tightly weaved brows. Drake continues, “With a girl like you, I don’t understand how anyone could disappoint you like that. Darn near criminal with someone as perfect as you.”

  So many compliments. Such a small-time frame. Out of nowhere. He hates chicken soup but is complementing her? Everything starts making sense. Starts dawning on Josephine with the conversation brewing from behind her. She gazes at a black mirror within her microwave, staring at Drake proposing an idea.

  “Well,” he clears his throat, placing his casted arm slanted behind him. “I’d always show you how beautiful you are. I’d give you more than that other guy ever did. I’d never push you away.” She continues stirring the pot of food. Her lips curling inward and simply listening, as he continues, “Josephine, as far as I see it… you and I —

  “Drake…” she interrupted. Unable to listen to anymore. Wanting to keep her skin from slithering off. “I didn’t wanna tell you beca
use I didn’t feel it mattered what you thought about someone you don’t know.” She turns with a subtle pivot, allowing her expression to silence where he was traveling. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet him. But he’s been here recently.”

  “In the house?” Drake firms himself up in his stool, leaning his cast onto the bar counter top. He scopes the area, “What did you say he did for a living?”

  “He’s a soldier,” she said.

  Drake’s seat becomes brittle beneath his buttocks. Uncomfortable all of the sudden. “When was he here? What did he say?”

  “He was here on my birthday. He told me we would be together forever. Then he left again for combat.”

  Drake’s blood pressure rises, “Did he see me? Does he know I’m here?”

  Josephine lightly waves her hand, “I don’t remember what you were doing at the time.” Josephine places the lid over her tea. Her eyes meet his, “So you see… he didn’t run out on me. He’s been here and he’s coming back.”

  You’re so wonderful, Lucius thinks.

  Drake asks, “When?”

  Her shoulder quickly shrugs, “Soon,” winking before realizing, “He’s coming for me.” Drake watches her dip up bowls of dinner. She finishes, “Like he always does.”

  Acouple of days pass, and Drake explores Josephine’s property, surveying how much land she owns. He treads through forested areas, hiking down deer paths and into an open gulf between two cliffs. Along a natural creek, and following a stream until he gets to a pond and plants himself on a rock. “Nice spot to hide a body,” he chuckled inwardly, eyeballing several caved ridges of limestone rock. “Nobody but the coyotes would know out here.” He uproots his feet, looking over the distance toward glistening lake water. He inhales a deep breath with a large smile, before stretching his back, and lifting his casted arm above his head, soaking in a coveted moment. His cast swings down, and he massages the back of his neck with an overused arm. “Damn! This is awesome. I could get used to this place.”