Hey, this Bec, I hear you need a change in your hairstyle. Can you come in tonight?
The three dots that drive us all crazy rippled on the screen as the stylist anxiously waited for the reply to pop up. The only reply that came back was… 7pm. Bec swirled her chair around and checked her book. She was open the rest of the evening so a quick, OK, was sent before she opened the screen for the messages to Kyle. A quick text to him told him that she would be having a late customer and that he could come whenever.
Seven o’clock came and went and not one person even walked by the hair salon. It was closing in on eight when Bec went to the front to lock the door. As she began to twist the lock, she noticed a brunette standing across the empty street. The woman was thin and her hair looked frazzled, as if she woke up and didn’t brush it. Wearing worn jeans that were too short for her and a shirt that was three sizes too big, the woman stood. Tilting her head to the side, Bec was trying to determine if that was the same woman from the pics in the email. She smiled and gave a quick wave. Nothing, the woman just stood there as if frozen in place. “Hey Charlie, come here a minute.”
Charlie walked around the divider with a broom in hand, “Yeah, what’s up?”
Bec nodded to the woman, “You see her?”
“How long she been there?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t move. Just stands there. Stay here,” Bec untwisted the lock and pulled the door open. The woman across the street stepped back one step, twisting her hands in themselves.
Standing in front of her shop, Bec stood directly opposite the stranger. She didn’t move, didn’t engage. The stylist and vigilante shoved her hands in her pockets while watching the woman watch her. After five minutes, Bec made a step forward. The woman jumped, turned and quickly walked away. Bec didn’t chase after her, she wouldn’t force anyone to take her help. She understood the fear that abuse layered on people; she waited for them to be ready to stand up and move forward. Inside, Charlie and Kyle had watched the interaction and knew that Bec wouldn’t force the stranger to take her help.
Bec went back inside to find the two watching her, shrugging she said, “Guess she wasn’t ready.” Walking up to Kyle, she smiled and gave him a quick hug and peck on the cheek. As she stepped back, she blushed just a bit as she glanced at Charlie. “Come on, let’s close up and get out of here. I could use a drink.”
“Sounds like a perfect plan. Are we playing pool?” Charlie asked as she turned the lock on the front door and walked behind the couple who were headed to the back door.
Kyle looked over his shoulder, “You know it.”
Chapter 21
Each hall of the hospital had one administrator who overlooked every resident and employee. Wing C, where Bec lived, was administered by Zelma Hellcross. Bec’s administrator was a tiny woman, who stood five foot even, with long blonde hair and black eyes. Her features were sharp and angular and she was very fit. She’s been at GASAH for ten years now and had every intention to retire from the facility before she was forty.
Each day she stood at the end of the hall with her hands behind her back, watching… everything. She rarely spoke to the residents openly, but when she did, her voice was angelic. Some of the kids teased that she was a siren. On this day, she stood at the end of the hall and waited for all the residents and their guards to gather round. Wearing a bright red button-down shirt and black leggings with dark red and black knee-high boots, the woman looked like a force to be reckoned with.
“Okay,” her voice rang out, “we have a special announcement so I need everyone’s attention!” All the kids glanced around in curiosity, everyone except Bec. She stared straight ahead as her guard stood close to her allowing his hand to brush against hers. “We are going to do something special this year for Christmas! We are going to have a decorating contest.”
She stood silent for several minutes while the residents talked eagerly amongst themselves. After about three or four minutes she whistled a high pitch whistle that impaired everyone’s hearing for several seconds, “Now that I have your attention. We need to plan. I want us to win and if we do, I will hold a pizza party for the whole hall!”
For the next hour, the residents of Wing C gathered together and planned. It really didn’t snow where they lived so they thought a white Christmas theme would be nice. “Blues, Silvers, and Whites,” called out one resident. “Glitter everywhere, we have to make it sparkle,” another spoke up.
Bec stood silent listening to all the suggestions. She never cared for the holidays but pizza she likes so she figured while she didn’t care she did want to win. While the administrator wrote down all the ideas, she glanced around at everyone. “Anyone else have any thoughts on how we should decorate?” Everyone stood silent. “John? Toby? Alita? Bec?”
Bec looked up through the crowd, “A snow machine and dry ice.”
Zelma looked curiously at her, “And why?”
The teenage shrugged, “To have a white Christmas you need snow and to make it look even better a slow fog creeping over the floor would put it over the top.”
Everyone turned and looked at the teen who rarely said anything and gawked at her. They were astonished by her cleverness and starting cheering. Zelma scribbled down on her notepad and said absently, “Looks like we will win for sure. I can’t imagine the other halls going this far!”
A week passed when Zelma came in with boxes of decorations. Behind her a man tugged along a machine that looked life a leaf blower and a large cooler. “What’s up Mrs. Z? Asked Aaron, a short pimply faced boy who could phase.
“These are all the decorations and items you guys asked for. Today there is no class, no therapy. All Christmas decorating.” She called out to everyone who had gathered around. Bec leaned on the wall, curious. She’d been here for more than a year now and not one day went by when the doctor required her in sessions since she started them. She had also gotten use to the outside for her one hour a day… she wasn’t sure how she felt about this schedule change. Watching the other kids eagerly dig through boxes and make decisions on where everything would go, the telekinetic teen just watched.
Zelma walked over to Bec and leaned on the wall next to her. Standing quietly for a few moments, she nodded and said, “You are in charge of the snow machine and dry ice since it was your idea.”
Bec’s head turned slowly to face the woman, “Really? You are gonna let me have control over that?”
Zelma nodded, “Absolutely. This is for you kids. Y’all should be the ones to have creative control over it.”
Bec pushed off the wall without a word and walked towards the snow machine. About three feet away, the teenager stopped and held her hand up with her palm out towards the machine. Closing her eyes, her head titled back just a tad and the snow-machine began to shake. Five seconds later the machine lifted from the floor and levitated. Bec opened her eyes and turned her body in the direction of the end of the hall as the machine floated past her and down the hall. She walked about four feet behind it until it landed right where she wanted it in the furthest corner. A few adjustments made and Bec stepped back satisfied with the placement. Turning to one of the other teens, Alaster, she said, “The tree you wanted would be great right here,” she points by the machine, “it will be able to cover the machine perfectly!”
Alaster smiled, as that was the most Bec had ever spoken to him, “Thanks!” The young man picked up the undecorated tree and moved it into the corner.
By the end of the day, the hall was completed. Standing at the end of the hall, all the residents and staff stared in awe at the work the group had completed that day. “This is absolutely stunning,” Zelma commented. Blue lights were strung along the edges of the ceiling to give the hall a glowing ambiance. Snow fell slowly from the snow machine, that somehow Bec managed to lift just behind the tree near the top, and the air from the air conditioning pushed it down the hall towards the end where they all stood. The dry ice made a fog creep along the floor and sweep by the empty prese
nts that were decorated and left strategically placed so it would hit the fog just so to make it ripple along its path. The walls were given murals from two of the kids who could project images. Each mural would move and create an almost life like a movie scene right there in front of them. Bec used her telekinesis to help the snow float down the hall and drop randomly. Alaster, another phaser, had the ability to create fire, so he made an artificial fireplace with a roaring fire. The fun part was you could walk through it and not get hurt.
“Judging will be tomorrow,” She turned and looked at each of the residents, “you should be very proud. You did an amazing job.”
Tuesday morning, after breakfast, everyone was called to the end of their wings. Residents stood in front, with their guards behind them and their administrator to the side. Georgia walked from wing to wing with a clipboard in hand as she scribbled notes. Creativity, imagery, and teamwork were all judged, but she had demanded no movement to be made in the wings–which meant the snow could not fall and the fog couldn’t flow. When she was done tallying up the scores, she stood in the center where all the wings met tapping her pen on the clipboard mindlessly. “We seem to have a tie,” she glanced around at everyone. Moans and groans could be heard throughout. “But, to break the tie… I have a challenge. Wing F and Wing C–will you accept the challenge?” The administrators of both wings stepped forward and nodded. “Good. Set your wings in motion!”
The residents from each wing smiled. Knowing that they all had abilities tied into their decorations, movements were vital to make them work. Wing F started first. Horses trotted along the walls on snow-covered streets with images of snow falling in the hall. Georgia took some notes and motioned for Wing C to begin. When Wing C put their hall into motion, jaws dropped and whispers of amazement could be heard.
Georgia didn’t move for several seconds. She too had been awed by the work the residents had pulled together. Turning around she called out, “Wing C is the winner!” That night, Wing C enjoyed hot and fresh pizza and loud music.
Chapter 22
For the next week, Bec saw that same woman from the email standing across the street from the shop every evening just before close. She would stand there staring at the shop and then run off if anyone stepped out of the doors.
Finally, the eighth night, Bec left the shop early and stood just inside one of the shops doorways on the side of the street near where the woman would stand. Wearing a leather jacket, Bec found herself still chilled to the bone with the cold weather coming in and wondered how it was the stranger stood out here night after night with so little on and not freeze.
Another ten minutes, Bec noticed a shadow at the edge of the building just inside the alley. It crept along; the streetlights elongating the appearance of the woman into something otherworldly. The tiny woman came around the corner, dressed in the same pants and shirt as she has been in since the first night Bec saw her.
Waiting for the woman to stand in her normal spot, the stylist eased out of the doorway and up next to her. As soon as the stranger realized someone was so near, she tried to run, but Bec grabbed her hand and didn’t let go. “You don’t have to run.”
Panic filled the woman's eyes as tears threatened to overflow onto her cheeks, “Please. He can’t know I’m here.” The woman struggled to pull Bec’s hand off of her arm, but it was useless. Eventually, The woman dropped to the ground in the fetal position and cried. Bec knelt and embraced her, rocking her and soothing her with kind words.
Bec whispered to her, “I can protect you. I can make it so he never hurts you or anyone else ever again!”
Wiping her eyes, the woman stammered being cries, “Can you really?”
“It’s what I do.”
“He is a fireman. They all believe him.”
Bec helped the woman to her feet, holding both her hands and looking into the woman’s eyes, “If you want me to help I can. But you have to tell me this is what you want. You have to say the words.”
“Help me.”
The woman began to cry again and fell into Bec’s arms. Bec could feel the woman’s bones as if she had not eaten a good meal in months. “Come with me. Let’s get you cleaned up and a warm meal. Then I’ll get the information I need to handle this situation and get you taken care of. Let’s go.” With Bec’s arm around her, the woman was led across the street and into the salon.
“Who do we have here?” Charlie called out as they entered.
Bec looked down at the woman and realized she didn’t know the woman’s name. Giving her a bit of a squeeze, the woman squeaked, “Tiffany.”
Charlie waved her back toward her chair, “Well Tiffany my name is Charlie. Why don’t you come sit down and let us treat you to freshen up on that style? I’m sure Bec needs to take care of some things and you’ll be in good hands.” Bec gently pushed the woman toward Charlie’s chair and gave the stylist a nod of thanks.
Bec went into the tiny room in the back of the shop that was no larger than a small child’s closet and sat at the desk. Picking up the phone, the woman ordered enough food for ten people to be delivered. Once that was complete Bec sat back and watched through the mirrors at Charlie working on Tiffany. The woman was skittish and timid and it burned Bec alive to think that someone did this to her. Rolling her chair out to where Tiffany was enjoying a nice cut, Bec looked around before speaking, “Okay, Tiff here is the last of the night. Let’s close up shop.”
The other stylist nodded and as they finished up with their clients, the woman went back to her tiny office and called Kyle. Explaining all the details she had, he knew she’d be home late and that they’d just meet back at the apartment.
Once all the rest of the staff and clients had gone for the night, the food was delivered, the three women sat in a circle on the floor eating from various Chinese food containers. At first Tiffany was quiet but by the time they had finished as much as they could possibly stuff into them, she had begun to open up. “Tiff, I have to ask you some questions. Are you ready to talk about things?” Bec asked as she dropped her chopsticks into one of the empty containers.
Tiffany stared at Bec like a deer in headlights. Her doe-like eyes full of terror. Charlie put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “You have nothing and no one to fear here,” nodding to Bec, “she has helped numerous women and children over the last few years. Go ahead… tell her.”
The frightened woman swallowed, “What do you want to know?”
Bec smiled, “Everything. I need to know where you and he live. Where he works exactly, I know you said he was a fireman. I also need to know about him personally. I will find out tons more on my own of course and then when I am done… you will be free.”
“Until then, you can stay at my place!” Charlie chirped in with a genuine smile.
Over the next thirty minutes, Tiffany recounted all she could think of when it came to her husband Roy. Details from when they met all the way up to the time when she was given Bec’s email address.
Bec committed all the information to memory, then started to clean up. “I’ll finish up here, you two go ahead and head home.” Looking at Charlie, she said, “Let me know when you get home. Okay.”
“Will do boss! Come on, Tiffany.”
Tiffany looked at Bec for a moment before moving towards her. When she was close enough, she wrapped her arms around her and whispered thanks in her ears. AT first Bec flinched from being touched, but then her nerves calmed down and she returned the hug with one arm. Charlie watched the interaction from the door, smiling and proud of both women who had made some immense strides in their lives recently.
After Charlie left with Tiffany, Bec stayed behind and dug up all the information she could find on the man on the web and a plan began to form.
Chapter 23
It was the night before Bec’s seventeenth birthday, when Jake phased through her door holding two cupcakes and a decorated box. Bec and Jake had grown very close over the last year and he never stopped amazing her. He broke through
all the walls of protection she had built around her heart. He even created an environment that felt safe, safe enough she fully opened up to the doctor, Georgia Wilson, about everything that has happened in her short life.
“Good evening,” he blushed as he stood at the end of her bed.
Looking at him curiously, she replied, “Good evening, but it’s not my birthday yet.”
“In,” he looked at his watch, “ten seconds it will officially be!” He waited until the watch stuck midnight then held out the box to her, “a little something for you.”
She eagerly but nervously took the box from him. She turned it overlooking at all sides before she pulled on the hanging end of the bow. The ribbon fell away with grace and then Bec slid a finger under the seam and broke the seal. Under the wrapper was a small wooden box engraved with what looked like a wave. Slowly opening the box, the teenager found a thin gold chain with the same wave design pendant inside. “A wave?” She looked up at him, not understanding.
“It’s the closest thing I could get to represent your strength and power and well, speed.”
She got up on her knees and wriggled to the end of the bed where he stood; she embraced him then leaned back to look at him. “Thank you. It is truly the best gift I’ve ever had for a birthday.” Her eyes deepened as she looked deep into his, her heart skipped a beat and began to race. She blinked slowly and found him leaning into her. Their lips brushed and the heat rose.
He held her tight as their kiss deepened. He crawled up on the bed with her, pulling her with him till her head lay softly on the pillow, “Is this okay?” He would never push her but he wanted her and wanted her to want him just the same.
Breathing heavily, “Yes. I would like this-” Her words were cut off by another hungry kiss. His hands roamed her body covered by clothes and hers roamed his the same. In mere moments, Bec pushed up away from him. “Wait. I need you to know something.”
After the Storm (Gifted and Special Adolescents Hospital Book 1) Page 9
