Saving Brooksie

by Scott McElhaney

  “Dear Lord,” the mother said, “How horrible. Well, I’m Edna and this is my daughter Tamara. She’s actually a big fan of yours. The phone is over there in the living room.”

  “I’ll go run a bath, Miss Webb,” Tamara said, “I’ll gladly help however I can.”

  Edna led them into the living room where a fire roared in the massive fieldstone fireplace. Edward escorted Brooksie to the phone on the end table.

  “Thank you so much for your hospitality,” Brooksie said.

  She picked up the phone and asked for Silver Falls extension Grover 4550.

  * * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want to take a bath?” Edna asked as Eddie splashed more water on his face from the kitchen sink.

  “I’d really love a bath, but I don’t deserve any moment of luxury until this day is over with,” he replied, scrubbing his face with the waxy bar of soap.

  “And just why are you undeserving?” she asked, “Why must you suffer?”

  “As you can see by the condition of… of Patience, I’m not doing a good job of protecting the woman I lo…” he started, wondering for a moment how much he could disclose, “I’m not doing a good job protecting the woman I love.”

  “So, because she’s been injured, that means you’ve failed in your duties,” the woman grinned next to him, “And so your penance is to experience no joy until tomorrow?”

  “I can’t experience any joy until tomorrow,” he said with a crack in his voice.

  Tamara rushed down the stairs and paused at the last step. Edna looked over to her, awaiting the interruption perched on her lips.

  “I’m sorry. Miss Webb wanted me to ask if Edward has the book. She also wondered if you would read to her while she bathes,” she asked.

  Eddie smiled as he patted his back pocket.

  “A novel we found in a barn,” he explained, drawing the book from his pocket, “We’re anxious to find out what happens.”

  Tamara led him up the stairs and started to open the bathroom door.

  “Uh, we’re not that close,” Eddie whispered.

  “She has the shower curtain drawn,” she replied, inviting him in.

  He cautiously stepped past her and walked into the cramped bathroom. Tamara reached past him and snatched the bloody towel from the floor. He inhaled sharply as she tossed the towel into the hall.

  “Not as bad as it looks,” she replied.

  “Edward?” Brooksie called from behind the blue curtain, “I was hoping you didn’t lose the book yet.”

  “Are you kidding? We need to find the ‘happily ever after’,” he replied, sitting down on the commode.

  Tamara stepped into the hall and quietly closed the door.

  “So, how are you feeling now?” he asked, “Did you talk to Ben on the telephone?”

  “I’m feeling much better thanks to that demanding nursemaid,” she said, peering out from the side of the curtain, “She gave me some aspirin, scrubbed the wound, and it finally stopped bleeding. And yes, I spoke to Ben. He’s aware of what happened.”

  “I’m so sorry, Brooksie. If just-”

  “Stop it, Edward. You’re still my hero and look who came to my rescue even now. I need some more of the story to distract me for a bit.”

  He smiled at the beautiful face peeking at him from behind the curtain.

  “Let’s see,” he said, looking down and leafing through the pages.

  “You left off when Spencer returned to the bar the next night. He started playing the piano and then he sang that one song for Francesca… what was it?”

  “As the Deer. It was the first time he sung a Christian song for her.”

  “Ah, yes. And then you so rudely stopped reading and left me hanging,” she said.

  “If you remember right, we had just jumped off a train and we were walking down the side of a main road. I couldn’t very well keep reading.”

  “Anyway…” she prodded.

  He chuckled as he finally located the page.

  “Anyway… he just finished singing As the Deer while Francesca sat on the bench beside him.”

  “I guess that explains the giant cross tattoo on your back,” she said.

  “I warned you this was a passionate love song,” he said.

  “If you have that kind of passion for God, how can you still ‘love’ me as you claim? If you can read me as you claim to, then you also know that I’m a pile of sin and I have no intention of ever changing,” she said.

  He stood up and offered her a hand. She took it and allowed him to walk her to the bar.

  “We both are piles of sin. There’s not a single perfect person on earth right now. It’s easy to love the Lord as I do because he loves me in spite of my sin. He loves you intensely and I know this for a fact,” he said, sitting down next to her at the bar.

  “No, I’m sure that’s not the slightest bit true. I am not only a disgrace, but I also despise your Lord for all that he has taken from me,” she said with a smirk.

  She seemed to enjoy the fact that his jaw had dropped.

  “I wish I could show you something. I wish you could hear firsthand what He told me,” he said.

  “Oh, so he speaks to you personally?” she prodded.

  “Do you know that I saw you kissing a man in that booth over there about ten minutes ago and in spite of the pain I feel right here…” he said, tapping his chest, “I still love you. You demand all the attention of my heart. I don’t know why and I couldn’t understand it for solong, but you DEMAND it. You took my heart from me long before I stepped into the bar yesterday.”

  “But you didn’t even know me. You knew a fictional character that was displayed on a painting. You couldn’t know me from a simple painting,” she said, “That’s why I say that you don’t understand the love you express. That’s why I think you don’t truly love me.”

  “Are you ready to be frightened, Francesca? I can tell you things about you that would frighten you. I can prove it. Sure, I was initially attracted by your beauty – and yes, I could tell a lot through your expression in that painting – but then I started to fall for that hurting little girl from Cincinnati, Ohio. I saw the little sister of Lucille who only dreamed of becoming a dancer when she grew up.”

  Francesca turned and looked at the apparition next to her. There was no way he should know her sister’s name or even the name of her hometown. She lied for years, telling people she was from Kansas.

  “I fell for the girl whose dance instructor told her that her legs were too short to ever dance gracefully. I fell for the sixteen-year old girl who slapped that dance instructor in the face then told her mom that it was the other way around.”

  “No,” Francesca blurted, her expression changing to one of terror.

  She had never told anyone the truth of that story because it was too embarrassing for her. She had no idea that she would end up telling someone, who in turn would tell her niece that same story. Then of course, her niece would eventually tell Spencer.

  “I fell for the lady who cried behind the barn after stumbling across Eleanor Richardson making jokes at her expense. I fell for-”

  She pushed him and then ran for the door. Spencer rushed after her as she fled toward her apartment building.

  “I wanted you to know who I loved,” he shouted.

  “You’re a ghost. Leave me alone,” she hollered back.

  He reached her just as she flung open the door to her lobby.

  “I’m real and I’m right here. I’m not in love with a painting,” he said, holding onto her shoulders, “I’m in love with you.”

  “No, you’re a figment of my imagination. How could you know these things? I’ve told no one,” she shouted, “No one knows that I caught Eleanor. I cried alone!”

  “You were never alone. NEVER!” he blasted at her, “Jesus was there the whole time and he was holding you.”

  She laughed at him as she shrugged his hands from her shoulders.

  “The ‘smile, Jesus loves you
’ speech!” she laughed, “You finally surprised me, Spencer.”

  “How do you explain what I know?” he asked.

  “So, you’re Jesus?” she snickered.

  “No, but I know the Man. I’ve talked to him and I remember what he told me,” he replied, “Would you believe that you’ve brought real tears to his eyes before? I’m talking about the Almighty Creator of earth, the solar system, and the whole universe. That’s the man who is in love with you.”

  She stared at him with a smirk plastered across her face.

  “You’re a freak, Spencer, and I’d like it if you left right now,” she whispered.

  “Explain what I know about you. Explain to me why I love you,” he said.

  “Apparently the same reason Jesus loves me – you’re blind and ignorant,” she said.

  She rushed toward the elevator and pressed the call button several times in succession.

  “Do you discriminate against the love of a blind man?” he asked, rushing up beside her, “I’m not blind, but let’s pretend Jesus and I supposedly are as you say. What’s wrong with that love?”

  “It’s falsely given. I could be blind and think a nice guy is handsome when in reality, he’s the ugliest creature on the planet.”

  “But initially, your love was given to the ugly man based on the person hidden inside. Isn’t that the true man?”

  She turned and pushed him away from the elevator.

  “Is that your answer to everything?” Spencer shouted as she rushed into the elevator.

  “I HATE me and until you start hating me, I hate you also!” she spat, slamming the gate closed.

  “Why does she have to be such a horrible person?” Brooksie asked, “She makes it easy to hate her.”

  “But Spencer has the same love for her that the Lord does. That’s unconditional,” he said, “That’s the kind of love we all should have.”

  He looked at the face poking out of the shower curtain and suddenly felt an urge to kiss her. She looked so childlike with her wet hair matted down on her forehead. He knelt down onto the floor and crawled over to Brooksie. She drew the curtain closer.

  He made a tentative movement to her lips and she pulled away just a hair. Then realizing his intent, she moved closer. He kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “Mmm… another?” she whispered.

  He kissed her again, reaching his hand to her cheek and drawing the kiss out a bit longer.

  “My hero,” she whispered.

  He paused there with his lips barely an inch from hers.

  “Let’s get back to Spencer and Francesca before we get ourselves into some trouble.”

  She sighed as he turned around and leaned against the tub.

  According to Bonnie Marie, her aunt was known to leave her apartment unlocked all the time. She hated getting up to answer the door. This was yet another dangerous trait of the self-destructive Francesca. Tonight however, her door was locked.

  He knocked on it two hours ago, but she hollered a few choice words that he chose to not recall. He tried to ignore the strange looks he got from a few of the neighbors as he sat on the floor by her door.

  Several prayers and a few hours later, he heard some movement behind the door. Without warning, she flung the door open that he had been propped against. He tumbled backward onto her feet.

  “What is wrong with you?” she growled at him, “I could have you arrested for loitering in the halls.”

  He stood up and looked down at the lady in the bathrobe. Her hair was still wet from a recent shower and her face was devoid of cosmetics.

  “And if you had me arrested, you would finally be rid of the last man on this earth who truly loves you for who you can be,” he said, grabbing her hand and lifting her palm toward the ceiling.

  He looked down at the three jagged scars on her wrist and then searched her face for a response.

  “That’s three failed attempts to rid yourself of a world filled with hate. If any of those attempts had been successful, you would have learned just what hate was truly all about. Imagine waking up in a world without love – that would literally be hell.”

  She swallowed and stared at him.

  “Why are you here?” she whispered, “Why is there a ghost tormenting me in my living room?”

  “You never want to hear my answers. I try to talk, but you constantly run,” he said.

  “I don’t like it when you talk,” she said in a hushed whisper, “Your words hurt me and I can’t tolerate them. I’m not very fond of words that hurt. Do you think you could just hold me without talking?”

  He released her hand then drew her into his embrace. He kicked the door closed, feeling the softness of her bathrobe in his arms.

  “Is this how your Jesus holds me?” she asked.

  “He once told me that his feelings are a thousand times stronger than mine. I would imagine he holds you a little tighter,” he whispered.

  “Can you stay here with me a little longer?” she asked.

  He lowered himself to the floor and held her to his chest without answering her question.

  “Would you hold me like that if you could?” Brooksie asked, running her wet fingers through his hair.

  “Most definitely,” Eddie replied.

  “I think I’d like that,” she whispered, “I can’t wait until this is all over.”

  Did the Lord send Eddie back for Brooksie – he pondered in that moment. Would Patience Webb have eventually gone to hell had she died in Silver Falls as history recorded? What other explanation could there be for a magic door? He looked down at the book and continued where he had left off.

  Chapter 7

  At some undefined moment in the night, they fell asleep on the living room floor. Spencer awoke to a neck cramp as well as a woman pressed against his body. She had opened her bathrobe at one point in the night to drape over both of them as a blanket.

  I didn’t intend on this – he thought. Now the Lord will surely strike me down.

  She groaned as she nuzzled her face into his neck. He stroked his fingers through her hair as he awaited the Lord’s reprimand. He would probably wake up soon in the coal mine with 7 seconds left to live.

  “Spencer?” she mumbled.

  “Yeah?”

  “I dreamed about you last night,” she said, drawing the bathrobe back around her as she pulled away from his neck, “I dreamt that you walked in on me as I was making love to this hideous monster. He had long black hair, strong muscles, and he looked like a devil and… well, anyway, you came in and interrupted me. You started screaming and yanked the monster from the room.

  “You were treating me like a child as you reprimanded me, but I enjoyed it. It was like someone truly cared about me. I wanted you even more than the beast. But then…”

  She propped herself up on his chest and looked down at the man beneath her. He stared into the dark eyes that never changed a bit from the wonderful painting.

  “But then, you told me you were fed up. Just when I finally decided who I really wanted, you ran away. I couldn’t stop crying. The hideous devil seemed so disgusting to me and I finally stopped pushing you away, but then you ran.”

  He wished he could say something to her, but he was getting so scared to talk anymore. He was cursed with the reality that anything he said could cause her to run. Every time he said something, he would push her further away.

  “Do you think that dream meant anything?” she asked.

  “I think that I, like the Lord, have been doing a lot of pursuing. Unlike the Lord, I don’t have a super-strength, super-powered heart. Mine gets damaged pretty easily,” he said, “I don’t see myself running, but I also don’t know how much damage there is in store for me.”

  “What if I stopped pushing you away? What if…” she pondered, looking down at the man beneath her, “What if I got fed up and said ‘Fine! I’m all yours forever’!”

  He laughed, staring at the aging princess above him.

  “I’d probably nail
the door shut and lock you away with me for the rest of our lives. You don’t seem to care for the world anyway, so we could just shut ourselves in together.”

  She laughed before giving him a light kiss on the lips.

  “Do you realize how silly that sounds? I’m a loner – you’re a loner – so let’s be loners together!” she said, “Imagine me trying to share my lonely ‘I-do-whatever-I-want’ life with someone else.”

  “Compromise is part of life. You share the hallway with your neighbors because it would cause friction if you didn’t. You share the road with others because you’d be in for some huge battles otherwise. Sure, it’s not the same, but it still is considered compromise,” he said.

  Tamara opened the door and looked down at Eddie seated beside the tub. She was holding a small dress that looked nearly brand new.

  “It never fit me quite right, but I think it would be perfect on you, Miss Webb. Mother suggested that you get out of the tub and get a clean bandage on your wound,” she said.

  “And leave me wondering what happened to Spencer and Francesca?” Brooksie whined.

  “I’ll read some more later,” he said, “And we know they’ll get their ‘happily ever after’.”

  Eddie excused himself from the bathroom and rushed back down to the kitchen where Edna seemed to be waiting for him. She was wiping down the kitchen counter.

  “How is she doing?” Edna asked.

  “Good,” he replied, “Surprisingly upbeat for someone who jumped from a train and got shot.”

  She tossed the towel into the sink and then crossed her arms as she examined Eddie.

  “So, you said that you can’t experience any joy until tomorrow. How do you define this self-punishment? How is it that tomorrow is the day that all will be well?” she asked.