Absolution

by Jennifer Laurens

  My palms began to sweat on the brink of having my curiosity satiated.

  “Yes, she hurt me. But only because we were young and not smart.

  We both knew better than to fall for the enemy. I suppose she craved Jack’s attention as much as I craved Pop’s.”

  Images shifted through my mind spottily then: Violet holding my hand, leading me through the dark smoky makeshift bar in the church basement I’d seen before when I’d ventured into Matthias’ memory.

  Music fills my head. Someone’s playing Scott Joplin from a ratty old piano in the corner. Couples dance. The stuffy air is thick with alcohol and perfume.

  I feel Violet’s small, warm, hand in mine, leading me to a tiny space in the raucous crowd. I’m wearing the same suit I wear the night of my death.

  The same shiny shoes. In fact, one look around this bawdy place and I know I’ve been in this memory before.

  Hours later.

  Someone bumps into my left shoulder. “’Scuse me, Matty.” The robust voice belongs to Junior Cracciola—the man who will kill me. But this moment, I only know him as a friend.

  And brother to Violet.

  Violet’s gaze lingers on Junior and the brown color in her eyes flashes with something. Her head tilts slightly in that way that sends a tremor of excitement racing through my gut. Does she want me to leave with her? Take her home?

  We remain in the smoke-filled room and any questions I have about Violet and the secret look she shares with her brother I dismiss the moment she slips her arms up around my neck and pulls me close. The softness of her body against mine, the way she sways with me—slow like rich molasses—even though the music taps in my ears at a cheery pace, causes my mind to empty of all thoughts but her.

  Violet’s gaze holds me captive. Her mesmerizing brown eyes seem depthless, and I see something in them as Zoe, something that Matthias didn’t see in them that fateful night all those years ago. Betrayal.

  I looked at Matthias, staring off, his face stark with realization.

  “She set you up,” I murmured.

  No anger or hurt passed over his countenance. Only realization.

  Understanding. Then his blue eyes widened and as my words hit home, his face shifted to horror. His gaze met mine.

  Albert hadn’t been the one to send him to his death. Violet and Junior had arranged it. Albert had been an unwitting accomplice.

  Matthias closed his eyes a moment, his hands, holding mine, stilled.

  He swallowed. The silence in the air was dense, heavy with lament. My heart plummeted to my feet. Sorrow wound through my limbs, nearly causing me to crumple in grief.

  You pushed him to tell you. You and your curiosity couldn’t leave things alone. You had to ask, had to know.

  Anguish scored Matthias’ face. Zoe.

  “I’m sorry I asked. I’m sorry I wanted to know.”

  “I wouldn’t have understood what had really happened if I hadn’t seen it through your eyes. You saw something I didn’t. I’m…grateful.”

  But you hurt. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to hurt. What have I done?

  You’ve shown me the truth. He rose to his feet and crossed to the window, looking out. How could I have ever thought he would do that? He shook his head and bowed it.

  Pressed to comfort him, I joined him at the window and laid my hand on his shoulder. His reassurance swelled through me, and I took in a tremulous breath, infused with joy and peace and everything wonderful he provided me as my guardian.

  What can I do for you?

  He laid his hand over mine and squeezed. This revelation has brought me unspeakable comfort, Zoe.

  He turned, looked into my eyes and all traces of the sorrow I’d seen moments ago at the news, was gone. I admired his ability to quickly come to terms with such things.

  “Part of my refinement,” he murmured, smiling.

  “Lucky.” I felt stronger knowing the truth, layering yet another coat of armor over me so I was better prepared to face Albert.

  “Regardless of what actually happened that night, Albert lies, and he’ll continue to. There weren’t multiple women. I was too… oh, I don’t know…

  lame, as you say.”

  A small laugh escaped my tight chest. He smiled, lifting the mood instantly. “I think Pop was ashamed I wasn’t more like him. A ladies man. But that wasn’t me.”

  “She was the only girl you liked? In your whole life?”

  “Well, no.” He chuckled. “When I was six I had a mad crush on this girl I met in one of the boarding houses we frequented. Her mother ran the place. Her name was Ginny Birk.”

  “I want to get in your head and see everything about your life.”

  He touched my cheek. “Someday you can know those things. If you want to, you can see it all.”

  “Why do I have to wait? And what about our connection? I want to know more about that.”

  “I’ve told you what I know. You and I will be together someday.”

  “How do you know that, anyway?”

  He lowered his head a moment, closed his eyes. Was he praying? Angry at me?

  Not angry, Zoe. I love you, remember that. His eyes lifted to mine. My heart fluttered. “When I first saw you, I felt something deep down awaken.

  Like a memory.”

  His conviction spoke to my soul like it had so many times before. A conviction that wiped away my need for immediate understanding, replacing that need with total acceptance that at some point, my questions would have answers.

  I wrapped around him, and his arms surrounded me. “Albert should leave me alone now,” I said, vowing to not let Albert’s smear campaign get to me. I wanted to protect Matthias from Albert’s intent to destroy him. “You don’t deserve this.” I let out a sigh against his shoulder, then eased back and gazed into his eyes. How could anyone want to hurt him? Albert’s hate didn’t compute in my head.

  “You’re years ahead in your ability to love and forgive.” Matthias’ warm hands cupped my cheeks. “Apply that to each soul you come into contact with and you’ll have everyone you meet eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  Every soul? But that thought, though automatic because we were discussing Albert, was outrageous.

  Matthias took a deep breath and gazed away.

  Even Albert.

  Had I heard his wish or was that my own mind giving me the suggestion? Matthias’ gaze remained off somewhere, and suddenly my head filled with images.

  I’m lying in a bed. The room is dark, but a window at the end of the space lets in a slice of white moonlight that illuminates the room in a knife of light. The ceiling is pitched, slatted. The room is lined with beds, filled with people, sleeping. In spite of bitter cold air a strong, pungent odor fills my nose: sweat, body odor, dust.

  Someone shares the bed with me. I recognize the body instantly: Pop.

  He lies beside me, his warmth; his strong frame nestled against mine.

  “Matty,” his voice is a low whisper.

  “Yes, sir?” My voice—Matthias’—is small, light, youthful.

  “You sleepy?”

  It’s hard to sleep, even though I’m bone tired. I itch from head to toe, am dirty and have nearly forgotten the smell of my own bed. My stomach growls. “No sir.”

  Pop shifts and the bed waves beneath us, squeaking. I wish he’d put his arm around me like Mama used to, but he doesn’t. He does pull the stinky blanket up around me though, like Mama did when she tucked me in. A memory I can barely conjure.

  “There.” He secures the blanket around my shoulders.

  “Do you have some?” Won’t he be cold?

  “I don’t need any. I’ve got you.”

  I feel better hearing this, and a smile fills my lips for a moment. He needs me after all.

  “Matty,” his voice is soft.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “This is the last time we sleep in one of these places, I promise.”

  I am relieved but wonder where we will sleep tomorrow
night if not in a boarding house? I hate sleeping in the train station; the conductors always discover us and kick us out. The alleys are worse: cold, wet and the rats like to chew on our shoes and gloves.

  I don’t say anything.

  “I promise,” he says again.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His hand strokes my head and my heart jumps. A hunger—one I am well familiar with, but not a hunger for food—ignites in my soul at his touch.

  One stroke is all he gives me.

  He shifts behind me, shivering, while I lay under the smelly blanket.

  My eyes met Matthias’. He looked at me like a little boy, with questions—old questions—haunting his gaze.

  I should have figured Albert hadn’t been all bad. He was Matthias’

  father after all. But I’d seen so few memories of him through Matthias, less than sterling moments in Albert’s life; I hadn’t stopped to consider that, like all mortals, Albert had both good and bad qualities.

  “You really do think he’s redeemable, don’t you?” Awe lined my tone.

  The disbelief I’d carried inside about Albert being a savable soul was slowly being replaced by the faintest hope that Matthias’ faith in the power of love and forgiveness was applicable even to someone like Albert.

  “It’s my fault the poor memories popped into my head.” Matthias’ voice was soft. “And you saw them.”

  “So?” I tightened my arms around him. “I love you. I want to know everything about you, good and bad.”

  “Bad isn’t worth spending even a second on, Zoe.”

  “Yes, but you know all about me. The good, the bad and the ugly.” I smiled.

  His finger tapped my nose. “Ugly? Not hardly. My mortal life is over.

  Your vision is only via the memories that come into my head. That’s that.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Nevertheless,” he grinned, “that’s the way it is.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, pfooey.”

  His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Say that again.”

  “Pfooey?”

  “Slower,” he said, voice low and gentle.

  “Pfo-oey.”

  “I like the way your lips move when you say that,” he whispered against my mouth, then kissed me.

  My head spun, and my body felt like it levitated from the floor.

  What am I going to do with you, Zoe?

  Love me. Like I love you.

  That’s already done.

  Are you sure it’s okay for me to kiss you?

  He eased back, breaking the kiss with a laugh. My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I ignored it, content to remain in Matthias’ embrace, staring into the horizon of his blue eyes.

  “Isn’t that your Alexander Graham Bell contraption?” he asked.

  I laughed. “Um, yes.”

  “May I?”

  I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him, forgiving him for his electronic distraction during a romantic moment. He examined it, blinked when it vibrated, and opened it, staring at the screen.

  “I believe Luke is ringing you.”

  I took the phone and clicked it on. “Hey.”

  “Zoe… something happened.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ____________________

  I drove the minivan to Kiwanis Park where Luke told me to meet him, ironically, the same park where I’d lost Abria and first seen Matthias.

  Early evening was settling into Utah County, and the towering mountains surrounding the valley cast imposing, dark purple shadows across the valley floor in jagged, devouring shapes.

  Matthias sat silently in the front seat next to me. Was he thinking about Albert? I wondered if he knew about Krissy’s dad. Did his refined powers, his station as a guardian, allow him to know about everything and everyone in my life? How deep did his knowledge go?

  “I sense things,” he said. We shared a look across the darkening inside of the van. “Being refined doesn’t make one omniscient. But, yes, I do understand things that pertain to you or Abria. I receive enlightenment.”

  “So, do you know what the deal is with Krissy’s dad?”

  “The deal?”

  “That he’s a sicko perv loser who molests his daughter.”

  Matthias stared straight ahead out the window. Seconds passed in dense silence. The corner of his jaw twitched. “She’s lucky to have found Luke.”

  “I don’t want Luke to get hurt, though,” I said, wondering what Matthias’ ‘enlightenment’ was on the subject.

  “Zoe.” He tilted his head at me, kindness in his eyes. “Luke’s going to be all right.”

  But her dad’s a psycho. I sighed, drove on. Trust. Have trust. Luke hadn’t said anything more to me on the phone except that something had happened and I needed to meet him at the park.

  “Why do some people do stuff like that?” I asked. Matthias had been vehemently infuriated by Brady and Weston’s attempt to assault me, and he’d as much as said that anyone who harmed a child was culpable.

  “Even in my current state of being,” he began, “it’s difficult for me to comprehend why one human seeks to hurt another. The only absolute I take comfort in is that, one day, justice will be served.”

  “I agree, but how does that help someone like Krissy now? How do you help someone with scars that deep?”

  “You begin with good friends like Luke. And you. Whatever Krissy faces in the future, you and Luke can offer her the support she will need to make it through.”

  “No pressure or anything. ”

  Matthias’ strength reached out, wrapped around me and infused me with palpable hope. The wave of strength poured into me, like water in a vase, filling me completely. “You can do it, and so can Luke.”

  I pulled into the parking lot skirting the fringe of the park. Luke’s blue Samurai sat between two spots, the driver’s door left open as if he’d been in a hurry. My stomach dropped to my feet. I parked the minivan.

  I opened the door and, by the time my feet hit the pavement, Matthias was already by my side. “How do you do that?” I chided him, my pace picking up speed as we crossed the grass.

  “All it takes is a thought.”

  “Some of us have to work to get where we want to go,” I quipped.

  “A true statement for us all, sassy bearcat.” His gaze left mine and focused on something in the park. Luke.

  He stood about thirty feet away, his skin pale, his purple and black eye like spilled ink on snow. A sober expression tightened his face— the same way he’d looked at Brady’s funeral. My heart began a slow, fearful pound. I started in his direction and Matthias stayed with me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Luke as we approached.

  He jittered like he was choking on snakes. “Krissy…” He dragged his hands down his face. He looked at Matthias. “You’re here.”

  Matthias nodded.

  “That’s… good,” Luke observed.

  “Battle scar?” Matthias pointed to his own eye, nodding in reference to Luke’s injury.

  “Yeah.” Luke’s blue eyes dipped for a moment.

  “What happened? Is Krissy all right?” I asked.

  “She’s… man… this is bad, Z. She was with her dad, you know? And…

  she got home and she… hit him. She thinks he’s dead.”

  “What?”

  Luke nodded. “It just happened. Just now.”

  “Where is she?”

  Luke jerked his head in the direction of the pavilion. “Over there.”

  Luke led us to where Krissy sat behind a red brick wall, crouched, trembling, sobbing. Next to her, with his arms around her, was her guardian.

  He looked up at us and his eyes sparkled when he saw Matthias.

  The putrid scent of vomit filled the air. The mess covered her jumper and shirt.

  I knelt next to her and Luke joined me. He lightly touched her shoulder. “Krissy…”

  “I… I… I…” Words tumbled out of her mouth, mushy incoherent sente
nces. Her guardian continued embracing her, his face kind and compassionate. Did Luke see him?

  Luke’s attention was completely riveted on Krissy; I doubted he could see the other guardian. “Krissy, Zoe’s here,” Luke’s tone was gentle. “We’re going to help you.”