They both looked up as we came down the stairs. Ricky smiled his beautiful, baby-face smile and Pa smiled with her eyes closed, the dimples in her cheeks emerging.
“Sleep well, D?” Pa asked as I came to sit next to her. Chris sat beside Ricky on the other sofa and they pounded fists with one another before turning to face us.
“Yeah, just great,” I said with a smile. “But according to Chris, I talked a lot.”
Pa giggled. “I’m sure you did,” she murmured. “So you ready to go, then?”
She looked to Ricky, who shrugged, and then to me. I shrugged as Chris stood up, leading us graciously to the door.
“Thank you,” I told him as we embraced in the doorway. “For everything.”
He smiled. “I’ll see you soon. Until then . . .” He leaned in toward me and pressed his lips to my hair.
“Until then,” I breathed, and followed Ricky and Pa out the door.
The way home was quiet, except for Pa’s chattering to Ricky as he drove the car. Every now and then he would laugh at something she said and she would lean forward in a fit of giggles and close her eyes. I sat in the back seat completely oblivious to both of them. I simply listened to the whir of the engine and the wind whistling in my ears as we drove.
We took Pa home to her quaint little apartment just a few miles off the freeway. She invited us in, but Ricky declined cordially, saying we needed to get back to the family. Pa understood and leaned across the car to hug Ricky.
He smiled as we drove away, and the smile didn’t leave his face until he pulled into the garage. We were greeted by an empty house, as per usual, and I headed straight upstairs, neglecting to turn on any lights.
“Dess,” Ricky called. I turned slowly to look at him from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“Yeah?” I asked emotionlessly.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice overflowing with concern. “You don’t seem like yourself.”
“Who am I, Ricky?” I asked, sitting down on the stairs. “Answer that for me.”
He raised his eyebrows and quickly ascended the stairs, coming to sit next to me.
“Dess, I know this seems strange to you. Believe me . . . I didn’t even know what was going on when that happened to me.”
I looked at him skeptically.
“I had no idea what that was,” he explained. “I had no idea why all of a sudden my eyes went blank . . . I don’t know why I could only seem to see Pa standing in front of me. I don’t know why my feelings for her suddenly intensified as though a switch was turned on. Dess, I honestly—”
“Save it, Ricky,” I pleaded. “I don’t need to know. In fact, I’d rather not. You and Pa have always had something. This . . . magic or whatever . . . didn’t strengthen it. Your own love for her strengthened itself when you truly saw her for the first time. And I just don’t know what to think about anything anymore.
“I thought this world was supposed to be normal . . . That people didn’t find their Prince Charming from one day to the next.”
“Sometimes, Dess,” he said, “It isn’t a fairytale. Most of the time, something’s there to rip the bond apart.”
“That’s beside the point,” I said, brushing him off. “Ricky, how do I know I’ll be myself when that soul goes back into me? How do I know I won’t completely change?”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “Dessa Madelyn Ambrose,” he said, a smile lingering on his lips, “I am living, breathing proof that you will be exactly the same as you were. You are the soul. The soul isn’t you. It’s a part of you that you locked away, the part of you that had the power necessary to destroy this world, and the strength necessary to rebuild it. We only locked it away because we feared those who envy you.”
“Like who?” I asked.
“I wish I could tell you,” he said, “But for some reason, a barrier comes up when I try to search for answers.”
“You erased your memory?” I asked caustically.
He shrugged. “If I did, I’m sure I had good reason for it.”
“Okay, sure . . . I’ll believe that I’ll still be myself. But that still doesn’t fix anything.”
“Why not?”
“If Skylar’s the fifth of us, and all I have to do is wait patiently for you guys to take him there, why do I have to be under constant guard?”
“Dessa, you underestimate who you are,” he scolded. “You’re the Keeper of Light, the most precious jewel we have to save this earth. There’s no way, while the four of us—or three of us now—are around, that we’re going to let you out of our sight.”
“I can take care of myself,” I insisted, but Ricky shook his head.
“I’m not going to argue with you, little sis,” he said resolutely, standing up. “If anyone knows you like I do, I’ll be sitting here until the next ice age arguing about this.”
I smiled bleakly. “You do know me.”
“Of course I do,” he answered with a chuckle. “I know more than you know yourself.”
I curled my fingers into a fist and punched him lightly on his shoulder.
“Thanks, Ricky,” I said, giving him a hug.
“Anytime, kiddo,” he said, heading back down the stairs. “I wanted to head to Gramps’ house in about an hour. Is that enough time for you?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “I’m just going to get a quick shower and change and I should be down,” I told him. “See you in a few.”
I darted into my room and grabbed a pair of jeans and a nice sweater. I dropped the socks at least five times on my way across the hall into the bathroom, and almost had a heart attack when I looked in the mirror.
My hair was everywhere, twisted in thousands of knots. Why hadn’t they said something, for God’s sake?
I quickly got into the shower, sickened by the very thought of what the rest of my face looked like. The hot water melted my nerves and set calmness over me, but that didn’t stop the relentless flow of questions coming into my head.
I dried myself slowly, letting the cold air of the room preoccupy my thoughts. I slipped on the jeans and sweater, ringing out my hair and putting it in a side ponytail. I walked out to meet Ricky in the living room lounging on the couch watching basketball.
“You ready?” I asked. He looked up lazily, the remote in his hands.
“Yep, let’s get going,” he said resolutely, turning off the TV and switching out the lights.
We got into the car without speaking and Ricky drove halfway to Gramps’ before saying something.
“You scared, little sis?” he asked, reaching his hand to touch mine where it clutched the velvet seat.
I shook my head violently. “No, no . . . I’m not scared. Just a little disturbed about the fact that my life is complete chaos and I’m apparently some guardian or keeper or whatever that’s destined to protect the earth. I mean that’s nothing. . . .”
I was rambling . . . and I was scared.
“Dess,” he said, rubbing my hand with his thumb, “This is awkward for all of us. Just give it time. You’ll understand soon enough—”
“No, I won’t,” I contradicted him. “Ricky, my life doesn’t make sense anymore. Two days ago I was normal, with a normal future and a normal goal in life.”
“But you weren’t happy,” he argued softly. “Think about it for a minute. Are you happier now than you were two days ago?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but then the beautiful sapphires began to shine in my memory. I closed my mouth before answering him.
I was happier. I hadn’t known Chris existed two days ago. And now that he did, I was happy. But at the same time, I yearned to know more. I strived to understand the truth and all underlying it, but sadly, those goals were out of my reach.
I stared emotionlessly out the window until Ricky pulled up to Gramps’ house, not even bothered by the fact that I hadn’t answered his question.
When we got out of the car, I looked around to see that everyone else was there already. Cars were parked
all the way up the street on both sides, some forced to park in the muddy forest grounds near the south end of the neighborhood.
My family was huge. And that’s an understatement. I don’t even exaggerate. All of them were obnoxious and noisy, some of them ate nonstop until their stomachs actually grew right before your eyes, and none of them—absolutely none of them—Ever. Stopped. Talking.
I walked up to the door with Ricky, clasping his hand tightly. I clutched him like a life jacket; if I let go of the reassurance his grasp gave me, I would fall into the empty abyss waiting right below me.
He clutched my hand just as strongly, smiling as he pecked my forehead with his lips.
“Thanks, Ricky,” I said, leaning in to put my other hand against his chest.
“No problem, sis,” he said with a smile, ringing the doorbell with his other hand. The commotion coming from inside was utterly unbelievable. The minute—no, the second—Ricky rang the doorbell, the entire house started to erupt into conversation.
“Ricky and Dess are here!” one of the little kids shouted excitedly.
“Took them long enough!” I heard my uncle say from upstairs.
“Calm down, calm down,” I heard Gramps say as he came to meet us at the door. “Marlene, can’t you for just one minute shut up your family?” he asked in a joking manner from behind the closed door where we stood waiting.
Ricky and I were smiling and laughing, waiting anxiously to here Gram reply back in her reedy, hilariously angry voice.
“George!” we heard her shout, “They’re as much your family as they are mine! Now go answer that door. Ricky and Dessa will catch their death of cold from standing out there so long.”
I chuckled, but then began to shiver violently. Ricky took off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. I thanked him for the gesture, but handed the jacket back; Gramps had just opened the door.
“Ricky! Dessa!” he said excitedly, pulling the two of us into a group hug. “Haven’t seen you guys since . . .”
“Thursday,” Ricky retorted bluntly, but then chuckled. “You miss us too much for your own good, Gramps.” I shuddered at that sentence, not sure why my body reacted so violently.
“I know, I know,” he said, touching the tip of my nose with his finger. He ushered us into the already-crowded house and led us to the kitchen. “Here. I made you pierogies, and breaded chicken, and mashed potatoes, and—”
“Gramps,” I said with a sigh, my eyes lighting up at the beautiful buffet of food placed out before me, “You really outdo yourself sometimes.”
“I know, I know,” he said again, ruffling my hair. “Now eat. Or else Mar is gonna yell at me saying I don’t feed you kids.”
I laughed and gave him another hug, my troubles all but forgotten now. I didn’t eat too much, but Ricky fixed that problem. Any of the food I didn’t eat was sucked up by his black hole of a stomach, so I didn’t have to worry about anything going to waste.
My younger cousin, almost like the younger sister I yearned to have, sat next to me while we ate, chatting animatedly about a play she was performing in that spring, Thoroughly Modern Millie. She told me she saw me at the game, as did every other member of my extremely, unnecessarily large family. I enjoyed the praise, but after a while, it seemed too overbearing.
I hadn’t really done anything. Just my job. The fact that they approved of me so much just seemed to take away from my other family. What about the things they had done? Like Ricky for example . . .
For all the things he did for me, all he receives in return is my anger and resentment, then my hurried apology and a hug. While I – for doing nothing whatsoever to help anyone else – received medals and trophies.
It just didn’t seem right to me . . .
I shook my head as I stabbed my pierogies with my fork, letting the butter ooze all over them and douse them in deliciousness.
Alyssa looked up from her plate to frown at me.
“What’s wrong, Dessa?” she asked slowly, her hazel eyes troubled. She moved a lock of her dark blond hair out of her eyes and popped a pierogie into her mouth before turning to face me.
“Nothing,” I lied smoothly, smiling and eating another of the pierogies. It melted from the inside out as the butter and onions mixed deliciously with the potatoes and cheese inside. “I was just debating whether or not to eat another pierogie before I blow up.”
She laughed. “I know how you feel. Gramps’ pierogies are irresistible!” She ate yet another one, but then groaned once she swallowed. “Shouldn’t have done that,” she muttered with a sheepish grin.
I laughed this time and she joined in, grabbing her side when it hurt. “Go to the bathroom, you weirdo . . . jeez . . .” I murmured. She got up faster than a cheetah after its prey. I stretched and stood up, deciding to stretch my legs. She’d be in there for a while.
I took my plate to the sink and saw an overflowing pile of dishes laying there. My guilt choked my throat closed, so I filled the sink with water and washed all the plates.
Gramps came by moments later and hugged me.
“Awe, Dessa honey, you didn’t have to do that,” he said.
“I know, I know,” I said, repeating his favorite phrase. He smiled. “But I still wanted to help you. You have so much to do around here, so I figured I’d help.”
“I appreciate that, ljubavi,” he said, kissing my forehead. I smiled and went back to washing. My fingers were pruned and my hair stuck to my face by the time I was done, but by then Alyssa was out of the bathroom, a drying towel in her hand.
“You should’ve called me,” she said with a kind smile as she took a dish and began to dry it. “I’d have moved faster so you didn’t have to do this alone.”
I scoffed and grabbed a towel myself. “Ah, it’s no big deal. I’m used to doing things alone, anyway. Thanks, though,” I said, patting her on the back.
“No problem, cousin,” she replied. We finished the dishes relatively quickly, and Alyssa and I had decided to go for a walk around Gramps’ neighborhood.
“So how’ve you been, Dessa?” she asked once we started walking up the hill on the sidewalk. The walk was about a mile in length, so we had no trouble making the walk before the sun had set behind the hill. As we rounded the first corner, I finally answered her.
“I’ve been okay, but there’s this guy . . .” I began. She didn’t even let me finish. She pounced on my introduction like any teenager.
“Ooh!” she shouted excitedly. “What’s his name?”
“Chris,” I answered simply, knowing where this was going.
“Chris . . .” she said the name with reverence. “You know what that means don’t you? He’s a keeper, Dessa”—I blinked and turned to stare at her—“Don’t let him slip away.”
Oh . . . She meant he was that kind of keeper . . .
Alyssa’s intuition never failed, especially when it came to guessing. Had she already figured it out? Nah . . . Right?
“Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot,” I told her. “He’s really nice, too. He has these beautiful blue eyes, and . . . Alyssa, I swear—I swear to God—his eyes glow when I look into them.”
She raised her eyebrows, and then nodded.
“Yeah, Dess, he’s definitely a keeper,” she said again, and the tone of her voice told me she knew a lot more than she was letting on, but I didn’t press her further. We walked the rest of the mile in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of nature as it progressed toward the end of the day. I could hear birds retreating to their nests, feel the wind getting slightly colder as it brushed the back of my neck, saw the sky darken to a beautiful blue, only slightly darker than his eyes.
Ricky and I left soon after that. He complained that he was tired, but he looked absolutely wide awake. But maybe the reason why he had wanted to leave was more obvious than I thought.
We pulled up to the driveway and a familiar car was parked on the sidewalk in front of our house. The small little green Beetle was parked there, and in the
driver’s seat, she sat with her black hair falling in waves down her petite, beautiful face, her green eyes glowing the moment we walked up to her.
Pa smiled from the driver’s seat of her car, stepping out slowly to reveal a lovely face that was tainted with the flow of tears.
Subzero
Pa ran up to Ricky and fell into his arms, tears flowing from her eyes. I stood there completely astonished, watching as he soothed her. He rubbed his hands on her back, pressed his lips to her hair, and ceaselessly spoke to her in a calming voice.
I stood there, my hands limp at my sides. What had gone wrong?
“Pa?” I asked timidly, looking at her from where she panted and cried in Ricky’s chest. She looked up at me, and upon seeing my face, smiled. The tears made her smile seem oddly out of place, but it was a smile nonetheless, something I knew she needed. “What’s wrong?” I asked. I hugged her as Ricky let her go.
“It’s Skylar . . .” she cried.
“Did you fight again?” I asked with concern, my hands upon her shoulders. She nodded almost shamefully and began to sob again. “Now you listen to me, Paola Helena Petrillo,” I said sternly. “You did nothing wrong. So stop crying crocodile tears and be happy. You’re at my house, for Pete’s sake! So let’s have fun and not cry.”
She nodded, sniffling. “Yeah . . .” she murmured, wiping her eyes.
“I told you,” I said kindly, “I’ll come with you Tuesday. I’ve got your back.”
She smiled. “Thanks, D,” she replied.
“Won’t you come in for a while?” Ricky asked as he unlocked the door. Pa didn’t even have to think about that one. The moment the door was open, she was at Ricky’s side, her hand just inches from his. A funny twisting sensation in my stomach wanted me to reach out and join their hands together, but I restrained myself with quite a lot of effort. Pa and Ricky sat on the love seat together while I took the reclining chair and watched TV.
Poison Page 7
