CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“You’re seriously not going to tell me?” I questioned for the hundredth time.
Nick gave me a solemn look and continued driving. We had been on the same road for nearly 10 minutes now and every second of it was pure torture. There was nothing more infuriating than going to meet someone you knew nothing about.
“If I don’t know this person why are we going to meet him… her... whoever!”
“Annabelle, just take a breath. You have to meet him,” he began.
“So it is a him?”
“We are five minutes away. Can you please just hold all the questions until we get there?”
“Why? Will he have the answers?”
Nick gave me a sideways glance. “How am I to know what questions are in that head of yours? I don’t have that kind of connection to your mind? I’m not Carter.”
“What does that mean?”
Nick shook his head. “Nothing. Can we not talk about this for the rest of the drive? Please.”
I hadn’t the opportunity to respond before he reached for the nob on the radio and blasted the music. I crossed my arms and sat back in my seat with a frustrated huff. Nick was certainly as stubborn as I, but that was the only family similarity we shared as far as I could see.
He had dark brown hair and sapphire eyes. He was shorter than the rest of the guys, but still much taller than I. Even his face was comparably different, softer- I thought. Yet, at the same time there was something dangerous and mysterious about him. He had an aloofness that almost inspired envy. In a word, he was cool.
We drove down the dirt road for a few more minutes before Nick pulled into the driveway of small lake lot with a shabby little house just off the shore line.
It was a small house with a large window on one side of the door and two smaller windows on the other. The smaller windows were broken with glass shards sticking up from every corner of the frame. A large piece of plywood was broken, not cut, into smaller semi-square pieces and used to board up the window from the inside. The shingles on the warped roof were peeling upward, leaving small patches of unprotected wood exposed. I could see a bunch of tarps lying in heaps on the ground next to the house and assumed that was what they were using to prevent the rain from seeping in through the roof. Even the concrete staircase leading to the worn front door looked frail, cracking in multiple places.
“Who lives here?”
Nick kept his gaze forward and his chin high. “I do.”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t think…”
“That there are people who live like this in picture-perfect Burnwood?”
“I was going to say I didn’t think we were going to your house. You said you wanted me to meet someone.”
Somewhere in the midst of that sentence I realized how untruthful I was being. He was right to say that I didn’t expect anyone in Burnwood to live in such conditions. As new as I was to town, I hadn’t come across anything less than a standard three-bedroom Victorian-style home. Most of the homes in Burnwood were magnificent- clean, well-cared for, and polished.
“Nick, you drive a Hummer to school every morning.”
“So.”
“So I guess I had greater expectations for your house. That’s all.”
Nick muttered something under his breath as the car came to a stop. He hopped out, shutting the door behind him and leaving me sitting in the Hummer alone.
I could follow him out, but I wasn’t so sure I was invited to do so. I could hardly wait in the Hummer indefinitely, so with little alternative, I stepped out of the vehicle and followed him to the house, making sure to keep a lengthy distance between us.
Nick stopped at the door and turned to me. The cement stairs seemed to be cracking before my eyes, or perhaps it was my mind playing tricks on me. Either way, I focused on Nick’s face and resisted the urge to scream out a warning. I was sure it was the last thing he needed to hear from me after our very brief conversation in the car.
“He’s a good man,” Nick said, pausing briefly. “He might not be as put together as Darius or your uncle, but he’s just as good. And… well he’s all I’ve got.”
“Nick,” I said, taking a few steps forward. “Who did you bring me to see?”
Nick opened the door and stepped inside. “My father.”
I idled outside the doorway, fidgeting with the sleeves of my shirt. My palms were sweaty and my heart was racing.
I looked inside the house through the open door, but it was too dark to see anything. I glanced over my shoulder at the road behind me. I could probably find my way back to town on my own, but part of me wanted to step inside this dark and gloomy house with a boy who seemed irritated by my very presence. His father was the only connection I had to my own.
I stepped through the doorway and into the dimly lit room. “Nick.”
My eyes adjusted and I could see a bare room with brown carpeted floors and a lone coffee table along the far wall.
“Nick,” I called again, this time a little louder.
Nick reentered the room from a hallway on the left. He stopped and then looked behind him. I followed his gaze until a middle-aged man with a long, untamed brown beard stepped into sight. He had shoulder length, frizzy brown hair, as though he hadn’t combed it in days. He wore a red button up shirt, which had been incorrectly buttoned near the bottom. However, it wasn’t his appearance that alarmed me; it was the sadness in his eyes. It was so vivid that I felt like I could reach out and touch his pain- to feel it for myself.
The silence made me uncomfortable so I waved, feeling as awkward as I must’ve looked. “Hi.”
The man looked at his son and then back to me, running his hand over his beard. “My god, she looks just like Lillian.”
I stepped forward. “You knew my mother?”
“Annabelle,” said Nick. “This is my father, Torren.”
“Annabelle,” Torren repeated the words as though they were foreign. “Yes, Annabelle. I remember now.”
Nick smiled and gave his father a pat on the back. By now, Torren’s eyes were beginning to swell with tears. He took a deep breath and slowly he regained his composure. He looked around the house as though he had suddenly become aware of its condition.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “We have no seat to offer you.” He wiped his palms on his jeans nervously and looked from me to his son. “We should have a seat to offer her.”
“It’s okay, dad,” said Nick. “I will go get the lawn chairs from the backyard.”
Torren nodded and Nick quickly disappeared down the hallway towards the back of the house. When he was gone, the silence was so deep and uncomfortable that I felt guilty for not having anything to say.
But what could I say?
Torren was a stranger to me. He may have known my parents, but he most certainly didn’t know me. In fact, the connection between us was still somewhat of a mystery to me.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said, gesturing at the empty room. “I’ve wanted to fix this place up for some time now. Cara and I bought it while she was pregnant with Nick. We got it for next to nothing and we we’re going to do all the renovations ourselves.”
Nick returned from the backyard with a stack of white, plastic lawn chairs. He placed one next to me and one next to his father, leaving the last one for himself.
I hardly felt like sitting. My whole body was shaking with the adrenaline rush that followed Torren’s mention of my mother. However, the look in Nick’s eye told me to sit and so I did.
“Mister…” I paused, realizing I didn’t know Nick’s last name.
“Kessler, but you can call me Torren,” he said. “Everyone does.”
“You said I looked just like my mother. Did you know her?”
Torren nodded. “I knew her very well. You’re father brought her back with him right after they got married. Cara and I had just had Nick when your mother became pregnant with you.”
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “I… I have so m
any questions. What were they like and what kinds of things did they do together? Anything you can remember. Please, I would love to hear it all.”
I wasn’t sure when I had started pacing the room, but here I was skipping about as though I were a child on her way to the candy store. I was excited. No, I was absolutely thrilled. Finally, here was someone who knew something of my father.
Uncle Felix always spoke so highly of my mother- his sister. But, there was only so much he could say about a man he never really knew.
I dropped down to my knees and took Torren’s hand in mine. “Please, tell me everything.”
“Dear lord!” Torren shouted, slapping one hand down on his knee. “She even sounds like Lily.”
Torren burst into a hysterical fit of laughter. He held onto his side with one hand and the arm of the chair with the other to keep himself from falling. Nick and I exchanged a look, and then we too laughed, unable to help ourselves at the sight.
“You okay, dad,” said Nick.
“Yes, yes, just fine son,” Torren chortled.
It was then that I smelled it. I hadn’t picked up on it before, but now I wondered how I could have missed it at all. He was drunk.
I knew the smell of whiskey, not well, but well enough to detect it on Torren’s breathe. I looked to Nick, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or, maybe he’d known all along.
“You…” Torren started, snapping his fingers as he tried to call on his memory.
“Annabelle,” said Nick.
“Right. Annabelle. You bring your chair over here and I will tell you everything I know.”
I quickly grabbed my chair and hurried over to him. I placed it right beside Torren so that he was in between Nick and me, and then I eagerly took my seat.
Torren stroked his bread. “Sirus and I grew up together in this very town. We did everything together. We we’re best friends. Of course, we really didn’t have a choice in the matter. The society kept us together. Outsiders would always be outsiders, never worthy of our secret.”
Torren stared ahead at the wall as though he was watching the past play out like a movie. His eyes were glazed and teary and his knuckles white from clutching the arm of the lawn chair. He was so wrapped up in his story that I almost felt like I was watching him relive it step by step.
“Anyway, after high school you’re father took a position with the council. We lost touch after that. He came back from time to time, but after his mother and father passed away in a car accident…” Torren trailed off, like the memory carried with it the pain. “He just stopped coming around.”
“He didn’t come back?”
“Not for a long time,” said Torren. “Not until it was just too late.”
I looked at Nick, but he seemed just as confused.
“Until what was too late?” asked Nick.
Torren’s daze broke and he snapped into alertness. He looked at Nick and then me, and then back to Nick.
Nick placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Dad, are you okay?”
Torren nodded, shaking off the haunted look on his face. “Of course, I’m fine. Now where was I?”
“My father,” I offered. “He never came back.”
“Of course he came back!” Torren slammed his fist down on his knee. “You were born in this very town.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”
“I don’t see how you could, my dear. You were just a child back then.” His gaze trailed back to the blank wall. “I’m not even sure you really knew him at all. He never was the same after the council. I don’t know what they did to him, but he had changed.”
“Getting married and having a child would change any man,” said Nick, flashing me an apologetic look.
Torren raised his finger into the air and waved it frantically. “That it does, my son. Any man… any real man changes the second his child is born.”
Torren looked lovingly into his sons eyes, causing Nick to shy.
“Unfortunately, that wasn’t it,” Torren continued, a solemn look returning to his face. “I’m not sure anyone really noticed. I know Cara didn’t. She kept telling me that life has its way of getting under people’s skin. She insisted he just needed time to adjust… to life and the sort. Ah, my Cara… what a kind and gentle soul.”
“What did you think it was?” I said.
Torren furrowed his brow. “Was what?”
“What do you think changed my father?”
“Annabelle,” Nick started. “People change. It’s not anything to be concerned about.”
Torren laughed loudly, startling Nick and me back in our chairs.
“You sound just like your mother, Nicky boy. So convinced that there is nothing to be worried about, but there is. Intuition is a powerful thing my son. It will lead you if you let it, but be warned. Denial will lead you down a dark path of no return.”
Nick hung his head. “Dad, what are you talking about?”
“I’ve seen it before,” Torren continued in a voice trembling and growing louder with every word. “It nearly destroyed that family.”
“Dad!” Nick yelled.
“You don’t see it!” Torren shouted back. “No one saw it! And all I could do was sit back and watch it all unfold, helpless to do anything.”
“Annabelle,” Nick said as he shot up, sending the plastic lawn chair falling back. “Go to the Hummer and wait for me.”
I tried to stand, but a hand quickly clasped down on my wrist.
“I tried to stop it all, but no one would listen,” said Torren. The tears were streaking down his cheeks now and his hand quivered. “I tried to warn them. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. No one would listen.”
“Dad, let go of her,” Nick demanded. “You’re scaring her.”
“She should be scared!”
Nick stepped away, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
Torren, keeping his hold on my wrist, turned back to me. “I don’t know how you made it out of that fire, but I thank the heavens you did. I don’t think I could live with myself if you hadn’t.”
“What? I said, suddenly finding myself short of breath. “You’re talking about the fire that killed my parents?”
“There was nothing I could do. The council refused to act. They turned a blind eye for the sake of peace and look what it cost them. Look what it cost you.”
I dropped to my knees, clutching to Torren’s hand. “Please, tell me what you know about that night.”
“Dad,” Nick interrupted. “That’s enough.”
“She should know,” Torren refuted. “Maybe she can change things. She can get Sirus and Lily to believe me. She can talk them into understanding.”
I looked at Torren who stared back at me with pleading eyes. I glanced over at Nick. He seemed frustrated and sad, but something in his eyes told me things were about to get a lot worse.
Nick’s gaze fell on me, his face sad and guilt ridden. “She can’t do that, dad.”
“Why not?” Torren demanded.
“Because Sirus and Lily are dead,” he finished.
The look on his face was all I needed to know how sorry he was for having to say those words. I saw a deep compassion in his hazel eyes, and they extracted every bit of forgiveness in me.
Nick continued, each word slicing through me like a hot blade. “They’re all dead, dad.” His eyes fell shut and when they reopened I saw a sadness like nothing I had ever witnessed before. “Sirus… Lily… and mom.”
Of course that was what I saw in his eyes. It was compassion that only came from understanding… from feeling the pain firsthand.
“No!” Torren cried. “No, that can’t be.”
Nick sighed. “Come on, Dad. Let’s get you to bed.”
Torren resisted, pulling away from Nick’s hold.
“You’re lying!” Torren shouted. He dropped his face into his palms and wept.
Nick helped his father to his feet and t
hey both disappeared down the dark hallway, leaving me to my thoughts.
Torren knew something about my parents’ death that no one else seemed to know, and it didn’t sound like an accident.
Burnwood - The Dragon Arum Page 29
