The Girl With Aquamarine Eyes

by Shelley Madden

  His mother had passed away two years ago of a brain hemmorage. He and his dad were devastated at the sudden loss, but managed to pull through and lead lives of semi-normalcy. As normal as a family could be without a mother and a part-time father. He missed her. He shook off the thought of that horrible day.

  He looked forward to getting home, and into the shower. The smell of the pizza place seemed to have permeated every pore in his young body. He sported greasy stains across his maroon shirt, and his slacks were hammered in hardened crust and sported designer splotches of special secret cheesy sauce. He pondered the thought of never eating pizza again.

  He stifled a yawn, and eased his car around the last curve. But, the gentle incline seemed too much for the beast. An unmistakable ticking sound was now drifting from under the hood. He sighed in exasperation, pulled the car over and popped the hood.

  The seaside moonlight glowed off the fizzing green water seeping from the radiator hose. Thankfully, the leak seemed small. He’d let the engine cool off a few minutes and ease the car around the last curve. He knew he was within waking distance of home, but he wouldn’t leave his car behind. With no friends to call and his dad a thousand miles away, he didn’t have a choice. The last thing he needed was for the joy-riding football jocks to toss a match into it, as they headed out on yet another beer run.

  He rummaged around in the trunk for the jug of water he always carried. Here he was on a Friday night, while all the school athletes laughed and drank the night away with not a care in the world. Sometimes he wondered why he’d been born at all. Without his mother his life was lonely. Except for Ben.

  Ben was his best friend of five years. They’d met in middle school, while trying out for the marching band. Neither made it. Neither really cared. Ben was much more outgoing than Tommy. He often wondered why Ben befriended him at all. But, he had. And, the two remained best of friends.

  Ben was been invited to tonight’s party. He’d insisted Ben go; he wouldn’t let his best friend sit it out in his account. Besides, it was a work night. Ben gallantly bid Tommy good tidings, and made a mad dash to the exquisite estate on the hill to join the in-crowd for a night of decadence and excess.

  A low moan in the darkness interrupted his thoughts. He rose from the trunk too quickly, promptly hitting his head on the hood and squealed in pain.

  He staggered backward as he clutched his throbbing skull, and gazed at the foreboding forest that seemed to rise up suddenly and swallow the foggy sky. He was used to being lonely. But, it was a quite different feeling being alone in the vast darkness.

  “Who’s there?”

  He silently studied the woods. He was sure he heard a moan. He was tired, but not that tired. His mother moaned like that the last day. She clutched her head, and fell off her stool. The canvas she was painting catapulted into the air, and crashed down upon her. Her body was covered in a kaleidoscope of muted fall colors. In the end, she was one with her art.

  He shook the memory away, and leapt back to the trunk. He knew he was a sitting duck alone in the woods at night, and must quickly find something to protect himself.

  Thankfully, his hand finally hit cold steel. He grabbed the object, and held the tire tool in the air. There was no time to find his flashlight, the batteries were probably dead anyway. The metal bar glittered deep bronze in the fog.

  The wealthy neighborhoods were often scoured by burglars. As luck would have it, he was in the worst possible place for a breakdown. He’d stopped in-between tree lined estates. He could easily be dragged into the woods by a felon, robbed and left for dead.

  He may never be found. Wildflowers would cover his body come spring, as Ben drove by on his way to school. He wondered how long it would take for his friend to stop searching for him. He wondered how long it’d take for someone to even notice he was missing. He shook in fear, as he clutched the his makeshift weapon.

  “Who’s there?” He called into the vast darkness.

  “Help me.” A soft voice drifted from the dark abyss, directly in front of him. “Please help me. I’ve fallen. I think my ankle is broken.”

  “It’s a trick.” He shouted into the forest. “I’m calling the police!” He shoved his hand into his pocket, and fished out his cell phone. He was certain he was surrounded by felons, waiting in the darkness for their opportunity.

  He stole a glance behind him, in search of movement. Maybe he’d see the flash of a gun, and everything would be over.

  But, there was nothing behind him. He studied the outlines of the trees. The fog was lifting slightly, a soothing salty wind was dispersing the last wisps through the woods. He wanted to be any place but here.

  “Please, don’t call the police.” The voice sobbed. “They’ll take me back to the orphanage.”

  Tommy shoved the tool into his back pocket and without taking his eyes from the darkened trees, reached into the trunk once more. His shaking fingers soon found the welcoming feel of the flashlight. He bit his lip in fear, and finally twisted it on.

  The weak amber beam was barely enough to light up the woods before him. Crickets chirped in protest, as the dim yellow light interrupted their sing-songs. The distant call of a seabird cried out in the night air. The last place he wanted to venture was into those woods.

  But he was no coward. He’d heard a distinct female voice. He couldn’t turn his back on any injured human being. He shuffled carefully through the thorny branches, searching for the source of the voice. His instincts told him to run. He’d be home in less than ten minutes if he kept a good pace.

  But curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wondered if the drunken football jocks would venture into the deep foggy thicket alone. He doubted it.

  Dried leaves crackled as he pushed aside a fir branch, and played his light across a small clearing. It finally settled on its target. He gasped as the pale beam danced across a young girl, perhaps his age, lying on the mossy forest floor.

  His hand shook as he studied her. The yellow glow jerked across her skin as he struggled to steady his grip on the fading light.

  She lay on her side, clutching fallen leaves in her palms. Her gown was covered in dirt and grass stains. He followed her bare legs to her feet. Sure enough, her ankle was terribly swollen. A zigzag of blood trickled down her knee.

  He moved closer, and slowly knelt beside her. His breath froze in his throat as he studied her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life.

  Glittering blonde curls fell across the forest floor around her. Her watery aquamarine eyes bore straight into his very core, through his very being, and stole his breath away. Perfectly chiseled cheekbones fell into rich, pink lips. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight. It was as if the sun and the seas and the sands had all whirled together, and created her. She was a goddess.

  A slithering onyx fog of realization suddenly crept up his spine. He leapt away from her in fear. It was a trap. There were probably a dozen criminals surrounding him by now. They’d kidnapped her, thrown her from their car into the forest, which would explain her injury, and lay in wait for some unsuspecting rich kid to find her.

  He reached behind him and grabbed the tire tool. He wouldn’t fall for it. He swung it madly around him, slicing it crisply through the fog as he waited for the onslaught. He pictured what he might do to a head of lettuce if someone tossed it in his direction at this very moment. A perfectly sliced salad would lay at his feet as he spun ninja-kicks around the obliterated vegetable.

  “I’m calling the police!” He cried into the darkened forest.

  “I beg of you, please don’t. Do not fear me, I will not hurt you.”

  Tommy gazed beyond her, willing the air back into his lungs as he studied the eerie woods. Nothing seemed amiss. The crickets had already gone back to their incessant chirping.

  In the distance, the dull roar of the surf drifted and mixed with the music as it filtered from the party on the hill. He could almost hear the clinking of margarita glasses held by the wealthy g
uests while they giggled and laughed the night away. He was willing to bet they didn’t smell like pizza and auto grease.

  Tommy gazed at the girl once more. “You’re from the party, aren’t you?”

  “What party?”

  “The record producer up on the hill. His son is having a party tonight. Every one in school was invited. That is, except me.”

  She smiled at him. “Do not be sad. Whatever ails you, fear not. Your day to shine will come.”

  “Huh?” For the amount of pain she must be in, she seemed to handle it very well. She was more concerned that he not be sad than her own predicament. She must indeed be a goddess.

  “Please help me.” She whispered. “Do not call these police people which you mention. I must get back to the sea.”

  “Are you crazy? You will drown. You can’t possibly swim the way your ankle looks. Where do you live? I’ll take you home.” He stood up and eased the tool back into his pocket. He sighed as he gazed at his steaming car in the moonlight. “That is, I’ll try to take you home.”

  “I do not have a home.”

  “You’re a runaway?”

  “I have run from nothing.”

  “What is your name? I’m Tommy.”

  She smiled at him, pulling the leaves from her hair. “I’m Heaven.”

  “Look, Heaven, I need to get home. I’m tired, and in case you haven’t noticed, I smell like a pizza. Tell me where you want to go, I’ll try my best to get you there.”

  Heaven gazed at the handsome boy. He was tall and thin, his eyes glowed the brightest green she’d ever seen. His caramel-colored hair was rich and full, falling into wispy curls across his shoulders. Thick, succulent eyelashes gazed through the moonlight at her. He had the aura of a fine gentleman, the kind her mother used to tell her about. He would do great things in the future.

  But a darkness lurked around him. He’d suffered a loss. And, he was dealing with rejection. If that wasn’t enough, he carried more on his young plate than any boy his age should have to handle. It showed in his eyes. She could read it in his very heart and soul.

  Now she was in a predicament. Fact was, she never thought about where she’d go once she left estate. She planned on finding Dreams. They’d stow away again, and find another island to live in peace on.

  That would be hard to do with her ankle injured. Yet, she knew by morning it would be well. She could lay here all night, waiting on it to heal and risk being found by Harmon or Bice. No, she couldn’t wait in the woods. She must get away quickly.

  She gazed at the handsome boy. “Please, take me to wherever it is you might travel to, as I have no place to go until my ankle heals. I shall be content to sleep under a palm in your yard, with the wind of the seven seas to my back.”

  Tommy’s heart skipped a beat. He swallowed backwards, and fought the urge to shove a finger down his throat and pull his tongue back into place. He surely gulped it down. The girl wanted to go home with him. Very few females glanced his way, but none ever uttered a word to him. Ben would never belive this. Not in a million, zillion years. A beautiful goddess asleep under a tree in his front yard.

  By sunrise, the football jocks would filter downhill from the party of the year. There would surely be a wrecked tangle of gleaming steel, twisted Porsches and battered Hummers piled one atop the other at his curb. Drool would be sneaking from the corners of the athlete’s lips, as they stared from the wreckage at the sleeping beauty under the pines.

  “I can’t let you sleep in my yard.” He chuckled. “Look, my dad is at a physician’s convention, he won’t be home until morning. You’re welcome to come back to my place until we can figure out what to do.”

  Heaven gazed at Harmon’s magnificent house in the distance. Luckily, all seemed quiet. They hopefully hadn’t noticed she was missing. At any moment though, the security lights which encircled the estate might snap on.

  She gazed at the handsome teenager and smiled. “Let’s go.”

  Hesitatingly, Tommy gently lifted her from the forest floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and grimaced in pain. He couldn’t belive this was happening. He must be dreaming. He’d wake in the morning, rush downstairs and gaze at the empty couch. Yes, it must be a dream.

  But, he felt her head as she laid it on his heart. Her golden hair fell down her back, and brushed his wrists. He brushed away the last few leaves that were still intertwined within her endless curls.

  He knew already, he didn’t want to see her go. He didn’t want morning to ever come. He’d drive home, grab his dad’s dusty camping supplies and together they’d make a mad dash for the hills where they could live in peace and solitude. Whatever it was she was running from, he’d run with her.

  He quickly shook the thought away, realizing he’d have to be back in school on Monday. It was hopeless.

  “Here you go.” He sighed, as he laid her across the back seat. “We should be to my place in a few minutes. I’m sure the engine has cooled off by now.”

  He slid into the drivers seat, and turned the key. The engine roared to life, as if it’d never fallen ill. He smiled for the first time in many months, as he carefully navigated the winding canyon roads toward his father’s lonely estate.

  * * *

  Bice stretched and yawned, as a stray sliver of morning sun filtered through the heavy curtains.

  No matter how he tried, he’d never mastered the fine art of closing the drapes in a fashion which would block any trace of annoying morning light. He loathed the fiery orb in the sky waking him each day.

  Before he could come fully awake, the sound of shattering glass filled the crisp air. He yanked the covers from his legs, and bit his lip in sickening expectation. The termites must have come.

  Finally satisfied his legs were intact, he eased himself up. Another crash filled the air as he swung his legs over the bedside. He gazed around, seeking out the source of the noise.

  The lone ray of annoying sunlight glinted off multiple broken beer bottles. They littered the floor, forming a crescent around the foot of his bed. He’d knocked the last one from beneath the sheets. The acrid aroma of warm beer permeated the fresh morning air.

  He hung his head in sorrow, truly shameful of the horrific waste. He could only hope Harmon didn’t walk in at this very moment. But on the other hand, he was damned proud of himself for resisting the temptation. A smile crinkled around his lips as he stared at the mess.

  It was Heaven’s fault. It wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t rudely stomped his foot in a moment of teenage madness the night before.

  No, it wasn’t her fault, he wasn’t that kind of person. He’d take full responsibility for the mess on the floor. He lifted the phone and rang Bonita. The way things were going lately, the weary maid might as well take a suite across from his.

  Realization swept across him, as he remembered standing Heaven up for their walk. It wasn’t like him not to keep his word. Perhaps a week’s worth of frustration at the strange happenings which were occurring in the mansion, had taken their toll on him.

  Harmon was his friend, and his employer. He wouldn’t let him down. Soon, they would tour again and all of this would be forgotten the moment the girl down the hall turned eighteen. Harmon would rent her a nice flat of her own on that glorious day, he’d make sure of it.

  He threw his clothes on, and rushed out the door toward her room. He hoped she’d accept his apology. He was only human, and sincerely regretted breaking his promise to her. When he was in Philly battling the monster he had become, he too had no one.

  His family had long since deserted him. He hadn’t spoken to them in years. Rather, they’d refused to speak to him. He’d learned the hard way when you push someone away in a moment of incoherence, that person you loved may stay away forever. He’d made a terrible mistake in Philly. A mistake that had changed his life.

  Brushing the thought aside, he realized he would have to be there for Heaven, no matter what. He’d almost conquered his battle with alcohol. Eve
ry now and then, the demon tried to slip up on him during his weakest moments. It was a burden he had to carry, and it would be a fight each day for the rest of his life not to reach for the bottle. Because one always led to another, and another.

  He could not hide his past any longer. He’d explain it to Heaven. Harmon was the only one who knew the terrible mistake he’d made so many years ago. Maybe she’d understand him a little better if he opened up a bit.

  He’d offer no excuses. He could only tell her the truth. Last night, he almost blew it and nearly drank the entire six-pack of beer. He’d even pondered calling Bonita to bring up more.

  After he spoke with Heaven, he would call his mother. He missed her every day, and longed to hear her voice. He knew she’d never forgive him. He wouldn’t say anything, but settle for listening to her breathe a moment or two.

  Then, he’d hang up.

  * * *

  Hawk pulled the dark limosuine into a slot in front of the grayed brick building.

  The bodyguard gazed around the grounds. A few teenage girls were playing badmittion in a far corner. Their somber plaid uniforms barely stood out against the aged building. Nuns in black robes dotted the browned lawn. One looked in his direction and quickly glanced away.

  A dark, lonely feeling overtook him. An orphanage was the last place he expected to bodyguard Harmon at. But the man was a well-known musician, at least in other countries, and needed protection. Stateside security was mostly from the media. The relentless reporters always managed to find a way to broadcast the musician’s private life across the airwaves for the country to scoff at.

  Harmon wouldn’t be happy if the media spotted him going into a place such as this. The rumors which would abound would haunt him for months. Now here he was, hoping to whisk the singer inside as quickly as possible and out even more quickly. He certainly didn’t want to miss wrestling this afternoon.

  He gazed into the rearview mirror. No cars or news vans were coming into the gate behind them. He was proud. He’d driven the twenty-five miles without being spotted.

  Of course, Los Angeles was peppered with fancy cars and dark Limos. The media knew to follow them all. No matter how darkly tinted the windows might be, the inhabitant would have to make an exit sooner or later. The reporter would be there waiting like a hissing snake in the grass.