Any conversation about my injuries caused Caleb to get angry and rush out, while I sat awkwardly in a room clearly made for someone else. After my last attempt at the discussion, and Caleb’s overreaction, I knew today was him trying to play make-up. However, this was different.
Avoiding the usual supervision, I decided the need to stay in my room was overrated. As I thought through my plan, it became a trip and this little trip required a shower and fresh clothes. The shower alone was enough to make me want to cancel my little excursion into the wilderness beyond my bedroom door.
I finished the dramatic samba of dressing myself and adjusted the crutches under my arms, as my need to breathe fresh air was stronger than the new pain I was feeling. I would have to thank Caleb for only allowing me to do two things with my day for the last month, stay in bed and walk to the bathroom. Mobility and strength were not my friends.
I stood for a moment, debating if I was ready to play Brimstone Dodge Ball if and when, Caleb realized I left my bubble. The debate was brief. I continued towards the door.
Each step closer to the door leading to a little freedom made it harder to breathe. My heart raced with anticipation. I had only seen the outside of my room once, and it was not the fun experience that I would choose to be the last memory I have before I die of solitude in this nice but undesirable room.
One-step out, crutches following as I refused to let them leave before I could. They were holding me up, but this is not how I repay them for carrying my butt around.
As I peered down the hall, I realized my room was situated with only one exit straight ahead. Towards the end of the hallway, I had the option of turning to the right and I would be passing the clinic or continuing straight, which could lead me down the stairs and through the front doors. The obvious choice would lead me to the fresh air and yet, I was still standing here already out of breath.
Heave ho and we're off. I’m pretty sure I had more energy before I spent a month on my ass eating crap. Good to know this is what happens. Noted.
Oh yes, the stairs, blasted things. I must take the crutches with me and avoid falling face first down a staircase built for Queen Elizabeth entering a royal ball. Grand style entrancing it up, Mr. Caleb. High class.
I'm sure using the stairs would be easier, if I had at least one completely functioning leg. While one leg was in a brace, the other hardly had the strength to hold the other upright. The many tests done in clinic concluded there was plenty wrong with me, and the jargon made it sound like I was on my death bed. Caleb decided it was best I stay in a bed, I’m sure, just in case.
I still planned to defeat the unnecessarily grand staircase. Defect of legs that won't cooperate, falling on my ass. Better, the newly enlarged hind quarters, suffer than the already unrecognizable face.
Bright idea I'm sure I will later regret; I proceeded down each step on my bum. Each scoot kindly worked with my discombobulated body making little noise. I reached the bottom three steps and adjusted my crutches to brace for my sudden weight change. They were happy to oblige. Note to self: give these bad boys a good polish for holding me upright.
I carefully made my way towards the front door. Although it should have taken eight steps max, somehow I lengthened that journey by eighteen, or the door just keeps moving away from me until it doesn’t want to play games with me anymore. Because that’s what I need right now. After only a few breathers from my room to where I stood in front of the door that hid the sun and grass, I reached for the handle unaware it was booby-trapped.
The shock burned my hand, pausing briefly before I felt it rush through my entire body. The sensation was slightly recognizable, more than my face, and oddly a nice change of pace to the large cloud blocking my memories. My crutches fell to my feet, as the large throw rug covering the hardwood floors welcomed my aching body unkindly.
"Someone…" I chattered.
The static coursing through me, even though familiar, grew unpleasant and increased my internal feeling of despair. For a moment I was relieved. I felt myself walking with ease up the long path to a large house. Although the rain and clouds prevented my view of the sun and blue sky, I was still happy to breathe in the fresh air. I was finally outside and wouldn’t waste even the littlest of beauty.
It was a strange feeling as I enjoyed my walk. I didn’t open the door. I didn’t walk outside and feel the fresh air hit my lungs or the smell the wet grass play in my nose. My senses didn’t change upon my exit from the house, because I didn’t leave the house. I was laying on the ground of the foyer, when the five seconds came and went again.
It took all of a painful five seconds to go from laying on a dry ugly rug to being outside at the bottom of the long path walking up to a big beautiful house. The static was there. That slight tug in my chest was there. There was no rug or crutches. There was only me.
No, I wasn’t dreaming again and it didn’t feel like a memory. Dreams, you always feel like you’re not where you’re supposed to be, like this really isn’t happening. A memory, you know you aren’t where you were. You remember, but you know you’re standing somewhere else.
I didn’t feel like I was standing in the foyer as I remembered walking up a path. I also didn’t feel like this wasn’t really happening. This felt very real.
Even though I hadn't seen the outside, or much of the inside for that matter, the large mansion wasn't hard to miss. A chill came over me as the rain gathered in the dips and cracks of the uneven ground.
I squeezed through the gate that guarded the long driveway and headed up the long lightly multicolored stone path avoiding puddles and potholes with little luck. I was relieved that the front door was only a few upward steps away.
I rapidly knocked on the door hoping I wouldn’t be in too much trouble. I wrapped my arms around myself gathering what little warmth I could, waiting patiently for someone to let me back into the house.
I could sneak in another way. He might not have heard me. I turned to head off the porch when I heard the lock to the door unbolt, stopping me immediately.
"Hello?" Caleb opened the door slightly.
Oh goodness, Caleb. You were right, I should have stayed in.
"Can I help you?"
Okay, funny. Ha, ha. I'm sorry. I tried to walk towards the door. My effort was unaccomplished.
"Oh my, what happened to you?" Caleb's hands were on my face. I winced at what was radiating from his touch.
My face hadn't hurt for some time, but I couldn’t explain this. I couldn’t explain what I was feeling. What on Earth are you doing to me?
"I'm sorry. Your house was the first I’ve come across," the words weren't mine.
"There aren't many places within hundred miles of here. How long have you been driving?"
I looked at my bare feet covered in cuts, mud, and blood. I couldn’t control my movements. "I didn't drive." Caleb's eyes followed trickles of rain along my body to the bloody mess soaking into the dirty Welcome Home doormat.
"You've been walking? In this? With no shoes?"
Nausea overwhelmed me. I was losing to the heavy black veil sweeping over me.
"Miss," his voice was distant, but I could feel his arms around me preventing a cracked skull and further trips down the rabbit hole.
"I shouldn't have left," I whispered.
That odd feeling had returned, radiating from his touch, wherever I could feel him, left a sensation like I was vibrating from the inside out.
"Eva…Eva…EVA!" his panicked voice yelled. He shook me as the pain surged through my body again. I pried my eyes open in hopes that my attempt at an evil glare would be enough to make him stop.
"Caleb, please…" I was back in the foyer.
I blinked noticing the itchy brace had returned to my wrist. A heaviness in my thigh with a slight raise of my leg reminded me of the gray boot that tripped me up every chance it got. I swear it wanted to kill me.
"Eva, are you okay?"
I nodded as the static in my body drifted. I beca
me more aware.
"What are you doing down here? Did you fall down the stairs?"
"No, no." I sat up with a little assistance from Caleb. My words were being heard.
"What happened?"
"I touched the knob and I just…" I stopped.
He could see I wasn't going to continue. "Eva, are you okay?"
"I am." The unknown tension in my chest released, allowing me to breathe easy.
He smelled good, like freshly picked strawberries. His arms were still wrapped around me, momentarily easing my worries. The odd vibration was gone.
"Why don't we get you back upstairs?"
"Could we just sit here for a minute?" I couldn't remember the last time I felt the comfort of another human being. It was nice. It was nice in his arms.
"You really are okay?" I nodded my head under his chin.
After a hefty scolding during the walk up the stairs and down the long hallway, Caleb went on a repeat frenzy of how dangerous it was to push myself too far too soon. As little as I cared to hear about how reckless I was being, the nearly two-hour reprimand was the most time I had spent with anyone since my bloody nose episode.
Caleb left me to stew after I wouldn’t explain what happened downstairs. Hell, I didn’t even know what happened downstairs. If I had any ideas about that little circus I just went through, I’m sure, I still wouldn’t have told him.
Yes, Caleb was the only person I knew, but I didn’t really know him. He was still keeping a lot of things from me and I didn’t want to push him to the point that I was out on my ass with nowhere to go, but this was a two-way street. We weren’t close and I didn’t expect us to pour out our secrets over painted toenails, but as much as he’s done for me, he hasn’t earned this.
“Are you ready?” Caleb asked, pushing a wheelchair into my room.
“Ready?” I asked cautiously. I expected tonight’s plans, and any possible night of freedom, canceled until further notice.
“For comedy night, unless you’re not up for it?”
“No, I’m up for it. I just thought that maybe after earlier…” Luxury night out of the elderly dungeon?
“Look, I’ve kept you cooped up in here too long.” Caleb carefully slipped his arms around me bridal-style, picked me up, and placed me in the wheelchair. “Tomorrow I’ll give you the grand tour. Following that, I want to get you started with some physical therapy. I think it’s time we get you back on your feet.”
“Caleb...” He unlocked the wheelchair and pushed me down to the elevator. I was afraid to undo this sudden spark of kindness and remained silent during our ride down to the basement.
Caleb was stern when he needed to be, but he perceptively understood I was suffocating. I knew he was only trying to keep me safe, but I was tired of being babied. And as much as I didn't mind seeing Caleb's beautiful face every day, I was losing my patience with the minimal conversations we forced out of each other, only to be vague and one-sided. This was a nice change of pace.
As we waited to arrive at the bottom level, I reached behind me to find Caleb’s hand. I didn’t want to say anything but I needed to show my thanks. I found his hand and squeezed tightly, keeping my eyes forward. And as the elevator dinged to let us off, I took my hand back feeling self-conscious and almost embarrassed. Suddenly, I was nervous.
The Entertainment Den, as he called it, was more like a mini-theater. There were about twenty-five individually built-in seats in the center of the room. The extremely comfy looking couches along the walls and towards the front of the room could each seat three to four people. The screen wasn’t as large as a typical theater, but I was pretty sure it took second place.
Located at the back of the den, near the elevator, was the concession style stand that connected to the kitchen through the backstairs. It was funny how covert Caleb made the backstairs sound.
We stopped to admire the delicious treats before finding our seats. The glass display of colorful fresh fruits and sushi made my stomach do flips. I forgot to eat today. I barely noticed the two men behind the counter.
“Hi, I’m Eva. It’s nice…”
“Please, remember they have a job to do,” Caleb spoke over me, his tone ringing with irritation.
“Right, sorry.” I slouched in my chair as he pushed me along.
I’ll admit it was embarrassing, I hadn’t felt like a 9-year-old since just after Dr. Nyssa left. It was not a welcomed feeling.
We made our way to the front row. I avoided his hands and awkwardly made my way onto the fluffy couch on my own. I kept my head down, further preventing any eye contact with the random staff members that may or may not be in the area.
“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence.
“Not necessary.” I tightened the unzipped jacket around me. “So, did you decorate this place yourself?” I needed to not feel like this.
“I did, personally designed every nook and cranny.”
I listened as Caleb talked about each feature of the room and his reasons for the added touches. The way he talked about the den, it sounded like his favorite place. The irritation in is voice from earlier was now subtly replaced by confidence. He wore it well.
Now, had he kept me locked down here for a month, we might have avoided my need to slide down the invisible banister and out the front door for what seemed like a rough ride I was still regretting. I could still feel the droplets on my skin.
Luckily, I didn’t have the time to think about what happened earlier. I avoided thinking about my static bloody nose episode; I could avoid thinking about the static doorknob mess for a bit. Yep, sounds good to me.
The silence following Caleb’s detailed description of the soundproofing and creative placement of the den became awkward. I didn’t know why but my hands were sweaty and the movie wasn’t playing. I didn’t like the weirdness.
“I see you dressed up for me today.” I smiled strangely. Did I just forget how to smile?
I thought back to his usual buttoned up suede shirts and dress slacks. They always reminded me of my dad’s work clothes. Because I wanted to think of my father right now. I suppose Caleb had to work to keep this house going. The mini-theater couldn’t have paid for itself.
“Yes, jeans and a t-shirt, I’m super flashy today.” He brushed the back of his nails off his right shoulder.
The lights dimmed as the first movie finally started. I thought it was supposed to be easier. We had the movie as a buffer, so I didn’t have to say anything, but my clammy hands and nervous stomach weren’t easing up.
My attempts at a few pieces of popcorn met Caleb’s fingers in the bucket, now making my clammy hands shake. I avoided eye contact and any more snacks.
Send him the wrong signals, why don’t you? I’m going nuts here, right? This is just a movie. He is just a guy. Oh, what a fine guy. Eva, what is wrong with you? He’s like your caretaker. You can’t have a crush on your caretaker. But what’s wrong with a crush? It’s not like you have many to choose from. And he isn’t even interested. He treats you like a child and scolds you…Yeah, you’re reading this all wrong. So sue me, it’s not like I’ve had the pleasures of dating before.
Caleb stood from his seat to put in another movie as the second comedy ended. I nearly lost track of the time, but the sun was setting and my inner monologue was distracting me.
“Are you okay?” Caleb asked.
“Yep, you?” I said quickly.
“You just look deep in thought. Are you not having fun?”
“I’m having fun. Just so much excitement…”
“You don’t know what to do with yourself?” He smirked.
“Something like that.” I looked down at my hands.
“I meant what I said earlier, I am sorry. I just forget sometimes that it’s your home too. You’re not just a client or a staff member.”
“You’ll probably have to explain that one…or I can’t accept your apology.” I winked. I was flirting. I couldn’t help it. The little demon was coming out of me.
We practically talked through the second movie only realizing we missed it once the credits rolled. Although we avoided too many specifics, we talked about random things.
Caleb worked security for powerful people. This little tidbit helped to explain his high-end digs - our high-end digs as he insisted I refer to them. He had many clients and their families here for intimate parties. It was also a safe house used during lock downs when needed.
I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was about these lock downs. He assured me they didn’t happen often, and only when it was absolutely necessary for the safety of his clients. But the thought of heavy guard placed around the house while we waited to receive word the threat on the clients were gone made my skin crawl.
The den helped pass the time for the kids and the parties made this place more adaptable when they needed to secure the families. Most of the time, they were none the wiser. It was just a sleepover at Uncle Caleb’s after all.
It was easy to get him to talk about work. His family was another story. He would visit them from time to time, but there were a lot of issues there that he didn’t want to discuss.
“Maybe another time,” he said. I left it alone. I was getting somewhere, why would I want to rock the boat now?
He was 23, not married, which he repeated to me a few times, and he didn’t have any kids of his own. There was no one special in his life, which meant that he and Dr. Nyssa were on the outs……which also meant there wasn’t anything between us.
I was right, there were no signals being crossed. I was just being like one of those hormonal nineteen year olds I’d seen in the movies who didn’t seem to have much control over her body. After all, I only grew up a month ago.
I guess a lot has happened in the years I don’t remember. He wouldn’t go into details but I don’t see my family at all.
“No, no,” he chuckled. “You’re not married and you don’t have any children.”
I supposed that was a good thing. I’d hate not remembering my own child. And not being married was a good thing too. How awkward would that be, living here when my husband was out there somewhere?
Without Knowing (When You Wake Book 1) Page 3
