The Power of Salvation

by Passarelli, Caterina

  Luke sets me up straight in my seat and takes his hands off me as rapidly as they reached out to grab me.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again.

  It bothers me I evoke so many apologies from him. He shouldn’t have to feel sorry for saving me from literally falling on my face, but I’m at a loss for words; my mind is in utter shock.

  You let a man touch you several times tonight and you didn’t feel like throwing up.

  “Don’t be sorry,” is all I manage to spit out before bolting from the car and into my apartment building. I climb the stairs two at a time to the fifth floor, out of breath but feeling alive. So alive, like adrenaline was just shot into my veins. I slam the door behind me and take a second to just stand there trying to collect my scattered thoughts.

  “Hey, are you alright?” Serena asks as she comes out of her room. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and if there are any ghosts in this damn building, we are moving the hell out of here, now.”

  I laugh! It’s much worse than a ghost—it’s a man.

  Chapter six

  Luke

  12 years old

  Rushing home from school I’m excited to show my mom my spelling test. There’s a red A+ on the top of the page and a yellow smiley face sticker looking back at me. I’m proud and I know mom will be too. We spent hours studying at the kitchen table the night before. She always makes me feel smart, even when I spell the words wrong.

  I throw my Power Rangers backpack on the wood bench in the foyer, and I take off towards the kitchen.

  “Don’t go in there,” my sister whispers at me from the couch in the living room. I didn’t even notice her over my excitement. Lisa’s face is red and tears are streaming down her face. Before I can ask what’s the matter, I hear my dad shouting in the kitchen with mom.

  Why is he home already? Dad is a government official for the city. A corrupt government official.

  “You stupid fat bitch! Who the fuck is John? Tell me now, goddamn it!”

  His slurred words prove he’s drunk in the middle of the day. I spot three empty Budweiser bottles on the table next to his recliner—probably his lunch.

  “John? I don’t know anyone named John. Bill, what are you talking about?” Mom’s voice is pleading. Dad is always asking her about random guy names—and mom always lets him know she has no clue what he’s talking about. He thinks she’s a cheater. What a fucking bastard. That’s one word I know how to spell clearly—b-a-s-t-a-r-d. And that’s exactly what my dad is.

  Eric quickly throws the door open and tosses his backpack into the room. His smile drops from his round face when he sees Lisa and me huddled together. He knows the drill.

  Screaming. Fighting. Hurtful words. Hitting. Hiding.

  But tonight is different. Looking even more pissed than he was originally, dad stumbles into the living room and notices us kids

  “The fuck you runts looking at?” He slurs at us before downing the beer in his bottle.

  “Surprise asshole, we’re your kids, and as much as you want to get rid of us, we come back every day. We have to live here,” I shout. Lisa cries harder, letting out a sob. Eric is tucked behind me out of sight. Mom hasn’t come out of the kitchen yet, so we are on our own against him.

  “You think you’re funny you little smartass?” He reaches out for me but completely misses his target and ends up grabbing Lisa by the shirt collar. He pulls the wrong kid off the couch and starts choking her. He never hurts Lisa—this is not good.

  He’s lifting her off the ground with his hands tightly around her neck.

  “Stop! Stop you asshole!” I scream as I push into my dad from behind with enough force that he loses his grasp on Lisa and she breaks free, running out of the room, not before grabbing Eric and pulling him out of the way.

  It’s me and him now.

  Dad reaches for one of the beer bottles, and before he can grab it, I get low to the ground and run after him. I grab on to his legs and tackle him to the ground. With him being this drunk, I can overpower him—that’s rare.

  I’ve knocked the wind out of his lungs with our fall and take the opportunity to start pounding my fists into his smug face, over and over.

  A beer bottle is for pussies; I fight with fists. He should know—he taught me.

  “That’s enough!” my mom shrieks, louder than I’ve ever heard before. I turn towards her noticing see she has a huge cut down her cheek she’s trying to hide with a washcloth soaked in blood. My dad must have cut her with a knife. He’s never done anything like this before to mom. He leaves bruises; never cuts. My poor mom—this one looks deep. “Go to your room, now!”

  I never did get to tell mom about my spelling test that night. It just seems so stupid now. I rip it up into pieces and toss it in the trash on the way to check on my brother and sister.

  F-u-c-k t-h-i-s.

  Chapter seven

  It’s a slow morning in the hospital, which is always a bit eerie. The calm before the storm, maybe? I switched shifts with another resident. I’m here during the day, instead of pulling the vampire night shift. After checking in on my assigned patients I head to the computer station at the whiff of bagels. That’s one good thing about the morning shift—they bring food.

  “Ariana, are you going to tell us about that Mystery Man?” Katie asks, passing me the garden vegetable cream cheese for my plain bagel.

  “Mystery Man! Do tell. I don’t think Ariana has told us anything about guys in the past,” Tara, a fellow resident, says between sipping her black coffee—eyes bright and ready for any gossip. Women are vultures when it comes to gossip.

  I try to play it off like it’s no big deal, feeling a sense of protection when it comes to Luke.

  “There’s no Mystery Man. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, ladies. He was just here to ask me some follow-up questions about his sister who was here before.”

  Tara seems to accept my lame ass answer but Katie will not let it go.

  “Bullshit! I saw the way you two were huddled close together; you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other. That was a pretty intense follow-up. What kind of care did you give his sister? I’ll be happy to help her next time if it will get him to look at me like that,” Katie says with a laugh.

  “What did he look like?” Tara asks, turning to face Katie, blocking me out, clearly not wanting me to add anything more to this juicy conversation.

  “Girl! He was handsome. He looked like a business man in a very expensive suit … that he wore well,” she says with a wink, “but when he came up here to ask for Ariana, his eyes set off this dark, smoldering look. Very intense.” She pretends to fan herself with her hand.

  “Okay this is a little over the top. Yes, he’s good looking, but you don’t need to drool over him,” I chime in.

  Both women look at me and burst out giggling. Are you kidding me? We are professionals here. We save lives. Why are we gossiping and giggling? And why before breakfast?

  “You like him!” Tara exclaims.

  “What? No I don’t!”

  I shove my bagel into my mouth.

  “Oh yes you do. That was totally a ‘don’t drool over him because he’s my man’ type of comment. You can keep your claws down. We were just kidding,” Tara jokes.

  Is she right? Am I jealous of the other women drooling over him? It did kind of piss me off, just like when the waitress was doing it at the bar. Jealousy. It’s not an emotion I feel often—never when it comes to men.

  Before I can add anything to quiet down these two smartasses, a paramedic flies around the corner with a man bleeding out on his stretcher.

  “Drive-by shooting,” he says, “three more guys are on their way in now. All shot multiple times.”

  And just like that—the storm hits.

  The drive-by shooting victims ended up being a whirlwind experience. After the four men were brought in, my heart sunk when a small boy was also admitted. He was shot by accident, in a home riddled with bullets in a dangerous part of
town. It makes me sick. I can’t even watch the news anymore—it’s death, destruction, and danger every minute.

  I stumble out of the hospital heading towards the subway to get home. My bed is calling for me. I can’t wait to slip under the covers, let my head hit the pillow, and crash for hours upon hours. I don’t have to work tomorrow. I am going to sleep until my body says it’s time to get up.

  It takes my phone vibrating in my hand to get my head out of the clouds, dreaming about my bed. I’ve got a text message from an unknown number.

  You left your jacket in my car. I would love to return it. —L

  Damn it, Ariana! I didn’t notice when I ran from his car like it was on fire that I left behind my jacket.

  Thank you! You can send it to my apartment or the hospital. :)

  Instantly he replies …

  I would love to return it in person. —L

  Do I even really need that jacket? I have plenty of jackets. Old Navy always puts them on sale.

  You can keep it. I’ll get myself another one.

  I should know by now my attempt at a blowoff was not going to be the end of this conversation.

  You really don’t want to see me? I thought we had a nice time. —L

  I don’t know what to say next. I want to keep him at a distance, but I equally don’t want to be an asshat to him.

  Okay fine. I’m going home to sleep the day away after a rough shift. What about tomorrow?

  Maybe I can wake up with some ridiculously nasty cold tomorrow that I can use to avoid seeing him. I mean he wouldn’t argue with that? I can only hope the sickness gods would do me a favor and bless me with the flu.

  You got a flu shot you dumbass!

  Ugh, there goes that wish.

  Sorry to hear you had a rough shift. Tomorrow it is. I’d like to take you to dinner. 6p? I’ll meet you at your place. —L

  And just like that, Luke is back in my life. With his brooding, masculine, sexy self making all the decisions again. Double ugh.

  “Wake up sister!” Serena pokes her head into my bedroom shouting. Didn’t she get the memo that I wanted to sleep for a good 12 hours?

  “What the hell do you want?” I growl at her, not even bothering to open my eyes.

  Serena flops down on my bed causing me to stir.

  “I need you to come out with me tonight.”

  “Are you crazy? I don’t even go out with you on nights when I’m well-rested, I sure as hell am not getting out of this bed.”

  “Please, pretty pretty pretty please,” she begs, bouncing up and down on my bed, forcing me to open my eyes. She doesn’t normally beg. Serena has a long list of friends she can call at any moment to hang out with her. She’s the kind of girl people want to be spotted with on the streets of Chicago.

  “You’re begging? What’s the deal? Where do you want to go?” I glare at her, still upset she woke me up from my coma.

  “I’m going to a tarot card reading and I don’t want to go alone. Will you please come with me? I’ll pay for you to get a reading too.”

  “Ha! Hell to the no,” I say, flipping over and pulling my comforter up past my head. Serena reaches for my comforter and gets it in a death grip before pulling it down, leaving me blanketless and freezing. “Give that back!”

  “Nope. You will get your comforter back after the reading,” she says, strutting out of my room with my blanket trailing behind her.

  She is clearly out of her damn mind. Maybe I should be there for this.

  “Gemini Goddess,” the red sign above the door reads. It’s a small building in a hipster part of town, tucked away in an alley of cobblestones. As soon as I open the door a strong smell of incense tickles my nose. It also takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. My senses are in despair right about now.

  I didn’t tell Serena this, but this whole ‘tarot cards / seeing the future thing’ kind of creeps me out. It’s not that I don’t believe, which is what Serena thought her other friends would say; I’m afraid someone will read me correctly. No one needs to know what I’ve pushed down years and years ago. I do not want to burden this baggage on anyone else.

  An attractive petite woman strolls up to us with her hair in long blonde braid. She’s wearing a topaz-stoned headband and long flowing green dress. She’s striking, and I can’t take my eyes off her.

  “Hello,” this fairy-like woman says in a surprisingly strong voice, “you must be Serena?”

  “Yes,” Serena whispers at her. I think she’s equally nervous about this experience, something we have both never done before.

  “I’m Renee. Is this your first reading?” the fairy woman asks, eyeing us both intensely. She’s reading us like books already. Get me the hell out of here.

  “Yes,” we both squeak out. She smiles a warm smile and then turns to walk through sheer drapery into a small back room. We both look at each other, passing off an ‘it’s now or never’ face, and follow the fairy.

  “Please have a seat,” Renee says to Serena, pointing to a chair at a small table directly across from where she is now sitting. “You can sit there and watch until your turn,” she says to me, pointing to another chair against the wall.

  The room is dimly lit, like the entire store, and on her round table sit glistening crystals of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The table is draped in a gold tablecloth, and on the opposite wall from where I’m sitting I see an altar of candles.

  Without asking us any questions, the woman shuffles a deck of gold tarot cards. Renee looks slightly away from Serena as if there were a figure just off to the right of her head. The psychic concentrates hard until she stops shuffling, looking directly at Serena before laying down three cards face up. I can’t see the cards from where I’m sitting but my friend looks as white as a ghost; clearly she doesn’t like what she sees.

  Renee points to a card that I cannot see before saying, “You are lost when it comes to the direction of your life.”

  This can’t be right. Serena is the most confident person I know. She told me she knew she wanted to go into business since elementary school when she started selling candy to kids at recess. I lean forward in my chair, ready to get up, because Serena will surely call this woman out on her lies.

  Instead, I’m shocked.

  Serena nods her head and replies, “Yes.”

  What?

  The psychic shuffles the cards and flips over three more. “You have many strengths and it’s hard for you to pick which one will make you the most successful. Being a powerful leader is what you want more than anything, but it upsets you that you feel this way. You think that is not noble or humble,” the woman continues while Serena keeps nodding her head yes.

  Flip, flip, flip. More cards are laid out on the table.

  “Don’t worry. You will find a charitable calling in business that will do good for others and leave you high-paid—as well as challenge your strengths in leadership.”

  Serena’s shoulders relax and the tension floats away from her body. She smiles from ear to ear.

  “Thank you.”

  The tarot card reader continues the reading for a good 45 minutes. They talk about her relationships with men (she’s having plenty of fun but the one hasn’t shown up her life yet), health (no one in her inner circle will die within the next 10 years), and her relationship with her parents (her mom will continue to nag her for the rest of her life but only out of love).

  “Time is up,” Renee says and looks away from the table towards me. “It’s your turn, young lady.”

  I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but it’s as if her face takes on a questioning look as her head tilts to the side. My stomach drops. I feel like I’m going down the first loop on a roller coaster—and my gut instinct says don’t do this.

  “You know what, that’s okay. I came here to support my friend. I didn’t sign up for this for myself,” I say, bolting from my chair and moving towards the drapery to leave the shop.

  “Wait! You can’t leave here
without your own reading,” Serena says, looking at me like I’m insane. “I made you come all this way. Please, it’s my treat.”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  The two women look at each other and then back at me before realizing I’m serious. I will not be having my cards read. Over my hopefully not dead body.

  We all walk out of the room. Serena pays Renee for her reading, and we head towards the front door.

  I’m caught behind Serena but in front of Renee. She grabs my arm gently and whispers into my ear, “Don’t continue to live your life with a guarded heart. What happened to you is not your fault, and you do not need to continue shutting people out. Let him in. He faces battles too, deep and grave, but you need each other.”

  Chills run down my spine listening to her hushed message. I walk out the door without even making eye contact with Renee and bump right into Serena’s back.

  “Hey! You alright?” my friend asks with concerned eyes.

  I nod ‘yes’ without saying a word. Serena looks like she’s on cloud nine after hearing all this great news with a big smile on her face, having no idea what happened after with me. But I can’t tell her; that would mean answering questions that I don’t want to talk about.

  How did Renee know all that stuff?

  Goose bumps break out across my arms. This is all too much. I didn’t want a reading; why did she do that to me?

  “You sure you’re okay? You look sick,” Serena says, waving her arm in the air to catch the attention of a taxi driver. I give her a questioning look; we normally walk most places or take the subway or a bus. “Girl, I want to get you home as soon as possible. I’m sorry I made you get out of bed for this. I had no idea you didn’t want to have your own reading. I’m kind of bummed. I bet yours would have been really cool to hear about all your future success.”

  If she only knew.