by Dana Pratola
I shrugged. “Well, if you don’t know about it, it’s not your business.”
I tried a chuckle. It did not have the desired effect of making her forget her protective anger. It did, however, make her glare all the harder at me. I stepped away from her, turned and came back.
“I thought he’d be gone soon, so I wouldn’t have to say anything,” I reasoned.
Eliza folded her arms. “I don’t care, I’m mad at you.”
“I know.” Her lips softened from the rigid line they’d been. “I know, but you would’ve made me come to your place and I’m not putting you in that position. Anyway, it’s no excuse, just wait till you hear the whole story before you judge.”
“It better be good.”
We went into the living room and she automatically went to the stack of Josiah’s things piled beside the couch.
“Please don’t touch anything,” I said, instantly feeling like a museum docent scolding a schoolkid. She gave me an odd look, not used to being reprimanded, so I smiled. “It’s just that he’s blind, and I think he knows exactly how he has his things.”
“Blind?” She inspected the pile as if it somehow confirmed my story.
“Yeah. He wasn’t always. From what I heard, he had a recent head injury.”
“Oh, that sucks! Wow!”
Yeah, it did.
“Heard from who? If he doesn’t know you’re here….”
I led her out of the room to sit side by side on the stairs and relayed everything from the time Josiah and Ben had pulled up. When I finished, she leaned back on the step behind her and shook her head.
“So, he doesn’t even know you’re here. That’s … wow. How are you even dealing with the stress? You’re not the calmest under pressure.”
“I know!” I pushed to my feet and turned in a circle. “My nerves are stretched so tight I’m constantly afraid I’ll scream. Just aaaaggggghhhh!” I stood in front of her flailing my hands. “It’s getting to me.”
Eliza laughed. “I’m sure it is. You need to get out of here.”
“I can’t do that,” I said.
“Well, he’s gone now, so I guess you don’t have to.”
“No, I mean, in case he comes back. I can’t leave him.”
“Bren, what are you talking about? You can’t watch over him like some kind of angel. He has a disability he’s going to have to learn to cope with. He’ll be fine.”
“How do you know that? I was here and he—” I moved my hands around, spread my fingers out over the area where I’d found him. “He was just lying there. He could have died if I wasn’t here to call an ambulance.”
“See? You were here and something still happened. What if he dies when you’re here? You’re going to be freaked out and have to live with that,” she said, logically.
“And if I find out he died because no one was here I’ll have to live with that,” I came back with an equal measure of logic. Though I refused to believe he would die. That was, if he was still alive to begin with.
Eliza stood with one hand on the newel. “True. Though the guilt will eventually kill you.”
“See?” I swung a hand out and let it slap against my thigh.
“So, what are you going to do?” she asked. “Assuming he’s fine, assuming his friend Ben lets him come back here—and why would he?—he’s going to be keeping a closer eye on him. I know I would. You can stay out of Josiah’s sight, obviously, but how are you going to float around like an invisible Florence Nightingale when Ben’s here?”
A fantastic question, one I had no answer to. “I haven’t figured that out. I guess I’ll just have to keep doing what I’ve been doing. I doubt Ben can be here all the time, and the thought of leaving him alone scares me.” Though, what if someone notified the pastor and the church ladies started taking turns caring for Josiah?
“And stressing yourself out more and more? It has to come to a head somewhere.” Eliza snapped her fingers. “Probably in your skin. You’re going to break out from the stress. Then if Ben sees you, you’ll look like a sea hag and he’ll run for the hills, taking Josiah with him. Problem solved.”
I laughed.
“Or he’ll shoot you,” she added. “You didn’t think of that, did you?”
I waved the question off, though it was a legitimate concern. Most of the people I knew carried a gun. Including the church ladies.
“Right now, I’m going to focus on praying for him. There’s a chance—like you said—even if he recovers, he won’t come back here. I just want him to be okay.”
Eliza’s face grew serious. “You like him, don’t you?”
“Sure, I like him. He seems like a nice person.”
But she was shaking her head. “I mean like him. Hey, are you getting weird on me? Falling for some guy you haven’t even talked to? Who you literally hope doesn’t find out you exist?”
Absurd. There was some odd connection I couldn’t deny, but I chalked that up to the strangeness of the situation. Falling for…. Just ridiculous.
Before I formulated a reply, Eliza grabbed me in a hug. “I’m just glad you’re all right. You can’t know how scared I was thinking someone had broken in here and slaughtered you. It’s bad enough thinking of you here afraid all the time.”
“It’s worse for him,” I told her. “The most stressful part of his being here is trying not to scare him. I feel awful whenever he hears something. I can’t even imagine what that’s like, not being able to see and thinking your place is haunted.”
She pulled back and held me at arm’s length. “He thinks you’re a ghost?”
I shrugged. “Demon, yeah.”
She laughed. So hard she had to sit on the steps and hold her ribs to keep them from rattling apart. I did, too, not because I thought scaring Josiah was amusing—I absolutely did not think so!—but I guess I just needed to let loose some of the tension clawing around inside me. It felt good, like giving permission to my muscles to take a few minutes off and relax.
When I had finished, though, Eliza continued her fit of laughter. And the way she laughed! I liken it to a pendulum, how she utilized her entire body, releasing every molecule of carbon dioxide only to have to gasp in as much oxygen as possible. The last time I’d seen her react this way, she’d accidentally walked across a diner full of people with the back of her skirt tucked into her panties. She’d fixed her skirt and fallen into hysterics.
The ability to laugh at herself, taking the sting out of a serious situation was one of her best qualities. Using that situation to her advantage, even if it meant just walking away, accepting it as a learning experience, was another. I just wished I had that skill now. Maybe then I could stop worrying over what would become of Josiah.
“So, have you heard from Charles?” I asked, thinking a change of subject would be helpful.
Swiping tears of laughter from her eyes, she sat upright and launched into a detailed recap of their earlier phone call.
CHAPTER 10
Someone kissed me. It was pretty fuzzy, but I wasn’t so unconscious at that moment as my rescuer had believed. I’m almost positive I’d felt soft lips on my cheek. And there was whispering. A female voice whispering comforting words. I’d been relieved, calmed.
I shook my head to clear the muddled thoughts, realizing only after, it was a bad idea. My head should stay as still as possible, according to the doctor, who had left just a few minutes ago after taking an hour to explain in very detailed, very technical terms, exactly why I had passed out and what was happening to me. He could have said it in under five seconds. “Your brain is doing some whacky things, and whacky is normal for now.” See? All cleared up.
What it came down to was brain tissue doesn’t generally regenerate, so to compensate for the damaged connections, mine was creating new ones, connections that weren’t there prior. Rerouting, so to speak. Because of that, I might experience dizziness, flashes of light, strange thoughts, facial tics … anything from hallucinations to paralysis.
I wasn’t clear whether the doctor actually said that last part or if my brain made that up, too, but some scary things were real possibilities. At any rate, my sight would probably return and I’d gladly tolerate all the rest for that to happen.
I saw.
I’d been asleep on the couch one minute, awoken by splitting pain in my head the next. When I opened my eyes, there was the ceiling, cracked and tannish-grey hovering above me. I jumped up—and the doctor suggested that was my mistake—looked around the dingey room, started to walk … and hit the floor with a crash. Ceiling again, then nothing.
When I woke up this morning, still nothing aside from the odd brownish haze I’d had all along. At least, until the doctor shined a light in my eyes. Might as well have been a laser slicing into my brain because I not only saw it for an instant, but felt the stab. My doctor’s response: “Hmm. That’s interesting.”
Didn’t exactly inspire hope in me. That came later when he told me the fact that I’d seen anything at all, no matter how fleeting, was a very good sign, and what we were watching for now was that the fall hadn’t caused any more swelling. Naturally, he wanted me to stay in the hospital. Naturally, I refused.
“Come on, Kash,” Ben urged for what must be the tenth time. “Stay put and let this swelling pass.”
“I was at the house when I got my sight back,” I reminded him. “Swelling can go down anywhere.”
“If you have another fall…. It’s like you’re trying to make things worse. You have a death wish or something?”
Did I? Had I sunk so low in a matter of days that I was hoping to die? Nope, didn’t sound like me. True, personality changes were often connected to head injuries, but whatever I felt was subject to change and couldn’t be trusted with my brain on the fritz. Including this draw back to that house.
Not to the structure itself. I’d almost completely ruled out a demonic haunting—yes, even though I knew better intellectually, there was a niggling fear at times—but I needed to see who was there.
Someone had been there the other morning speaking words of peace…holding my hand…. Yes, I remembered distinctly now the feeling of fingers wrapped around mine. Warm, flesh and bone fingers. Feminine fingers. I might still be taking my life in my hands, but I had to find out if it was real.
Even if that part wasn’t, I remembered one thing clearly. I’d left my phone on the table before settling down for the night, right there in arm’s reach like I always did. I absolutely did not carry it with me, yet someone had used it to call 911 and Ben. Hallucinations didn’t do that. Neither did demons.
“I know you don’t understand, Ben. Just bring me back so I can heal in my own way. Please.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re just afraid of the hospital,” he joked.
I didn’t laugh. I’d almost rather he think that. I heard the sound of his hand dropping to his thigh.
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I said.
“But you’re not going to be alone most of the time. Non-negotiable.”
I knew that tone and I wasn’t getting my way on this one.
“I’ll stay with you tonight. I can come tomorrow during the day, the problem is, I have to be in Cedar Springs Wednesday and I have a lot to do, so we have to find someone to stay with you tomorrow night and Wednesday.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t need a baby-sitter,” I complained.
“Don’t be a baby and it’ll just be a companion.”
My head started to hurt again so I shut up and let him guide me out of the hospital. I wanted to be pissed at him and didn’t know why, though I did think if I had to get a seeing eye dog, I’d name it Ben.
“So, I was thinking,” he said, as soon as we were settled in his truck. “Tracy could stay with you when I’m not—”
“Tracy? Are you nuts?”
“I hate suggesting it as much as you hate hearing it, believe me,” he hurried. “But you’re comfortable with her.”
“Relatively.”
“You were together going on three years.”
“Don’t remind me,” I said, without any heat.
I wasn’t mad at Tracy either, just preferred not to think of her. To be honest, it was what it was: a non-committed, committed relationship based on sex and convenience that never should have happened. I didn’t have time to court a woman or make plans for the future with one once I had her, and Tracy was on the same page. We’d gone out a few times and just kind of stuck together. I cared for her, but not once had I professed love, or felt my heartstrings tug. That wasn’t a thing anyway.
“I’d ask Tory or—”
“They have enough to do already.”
“Right, which is why I haven’t said anything to them.”
“They don’t know about last night?”
“Nope. Once I heard you weren’t dead, I figured there was no point. I know how you hate visitors,” he chuckled.
“Good. Thanks.”
“Is there somebody you’re more comfortable with?”
If I said no, he would reach out to someone at church or Pastor Swift himself. At least with Tracy I just had to be myself, that’s all. Always seemed to be enough before. Now that it didn’t matter, things would be just fine.
I sighed. “You think she’ll even do it?”
“Oh, she’ll do it.”
They’d obviously spoken about it, and his answer gave me a hint as to the tone of their conversation, but not why. “Sure. What’ve I got to lose?”
*****
The squeak of the front door brought its own brand of comfort. It had been less than a week since I’d initially arrived with my head split open, and loopy from so many drugs, but the squeak of a door was a familiar sound. Not knowing where my future was headed, I’d take all the familiar I could latch on to right now.
“Home, sweet home,” I said, stepping over the threshold.
“Yeah. I’ll be sure to cross-stitch you a pillow,” Ben said, behind me.
“Now that I know what the place looks like, a pillow isn’t going to brighten it up.”
“What? You don’t care for early American crime scene?”
“Not particularly.”
Ben’s footsteps stopped abruptly. “Did you hear something?”
Yeah, I thought I had, upstairs, but couldn’t be sure. Maybe someone had missed me while I was gone and was welcoming me home. Either that or trying to make me leave again.
I heard the whisper of leather, the slight click of a magnet, and knew Ben had slid his gun from the holster. “I’m going to check the place out,” he said.
“Have fun. Try not to shoot anything. I don’t need to be deaf, too.” I knew he wouldn’t find anything. Whoever lived here was as elusive as my vision.
The creak of the stair treads reached me around the same time I heard something in the direction of the front porch, like a knock, followed by another sound and the rustle of bushes. Probably a couple of the cats I’d heard having a tussle out there, while Ben banged around upstairs, opening doors, calling out, threatening, banging some more.
“Show yourself,” he ordered. “I have a gun. I will use it.”
A minute later, he came jogging down the staircase to begin his search of the main floor.
“I think you’re wasting your time,” I told him.
“My time to waste.”
“True enough.” Suddenly feeling stifled, I opened the front door. If the cats wanted to come in, fine, they’d be company at least. I went to the couch and sat, feeling around for my things, finding everything where I’d left it, nothing disturbed. No thieves here, apparently.
The refrigerator door opened.
“I think it’s time to throw this stuff out and bring in some groceries,” Ben said. “I’ll do that as soon as I’m done here.”
“Your time,” I said. “But that food’s practically new.”
To my amusement, I heard him in the basement a minute later. A few thumps, more threats, a
nd he was back in the kitchen composing a grocery list of open-and-eat items. A short one, I told him, since I’d decided to give myself one more night—he talked me into two—close to the hospital. After that, I was going home. If I didn’t expire or have my sight back by then, why stay here? I could die or be blind anywhere.
As strange as it seemed, I was kind of glad to be alone again once Ben left. I appreciated his attention, of course, but I was curious whether whoever lived in this house would make themselves known to me now that I was alone. I sat perfectly still on the musty couch, as the sound of his truck faded in the distance.
*****
He was back! I was so relieved to hear him alive, and apparently well, that the sound of his voice made me want to cry. In fact, I did a little bit, before I’d made a mad dash for the window to escape Ben. It had been my intention to crouch low on the porch roof, next to the window—because nobody ever looked for someone on a roof—but I lost my footing and rolled into the shrubbery below. Thank God the roof wasn’t high and that I’d hung on until I managed to drop feet first. I checked the jagged red scratch along my forearm. It wasn’t bleeding, but it sure stung.
I’d stayed out of sight, hugging close against the side of the porch, until Ben came out, when I’d whisked away to the back until he drove off. His voice wasn’t as casual as I’d heard him before. This time it was edgy, serious. At least he sure seemed serious about finding me. I listened intently, following his progress through the house as he demanded my appearance, leaving no doubt I’d have been shot if we happened to surprise one another.
My heart just started to slow when Josiah’s voice reached me on the porch through the still open door.
“I know you’re here,” he said.
So much for my heart slowing down.
“Why don’t you come talk to me?”
For one thing, my heart was ricocheting off my ribs. For another, I still couldn’t risk him knowing for sure I was here. Thinking and knowing, might mean two very different outcomes and I literally had nowhere else to go. Plus, he knew some of the same church folks I did. The last thing I needed was word getting back.
