Sweet Soul

by Tillie Cole

  The world growing darker and darker.

  I pushed my legs to run through packs of students milling around campus. I kept my head down and the wallet clutched close to my chest. I hated crowds. I didn’t do well with people. I couldn’t take their assessing eyes, their judgment as they watched me. But then to these people I was nothing. When you had no home and lived rough on the streets, they forgot that you were also human.

  Human, and utterly lost.

  Breaking free from the overwhelming campus, I ran over a busy road, the heavy rain beginning to seep into my bones, the coldness from the chilly wind slapping at my boiling cheeks. The chill brought a momentary reprieve from the fever burning in my blood. I prayed that I had a warmer coat than an old leather jacket to keep me warm, but then it was quickly forgotten. I learned a long time ago that prayers were never answered. I was convinced they were never even heard. A fact I found ironic, considering I never opened my mouth to voice my thoughts aloud.

  Lifting my eyes to peer out under the protection of my hood, I noted that I was only a few hundred yards from the alley in which I stayed. Slowing to a fast walk, I flinched as I coughed, my chest burning; my lungs felt on fire at the simple reflex action. I was sick again, but this time I knew it was worse. I couldn’t shake off this flu; this flu that wouldn’t go away.

  Beginning to feel the early signs of the fever at the back of my neck, I wrapped my arms around my chest. I quickly turned left and entered the narrow alley. I walked past the dumpsters from the deli beside me and stopped at the back right corner. I stared at the old wet blankets and, feeling overwhelmingly weak, sat down and pulled the itchy damp wool over my body.

  I huddled against the wall, attempting to get warm. The rain poured heavier and heavier with every passing minute. At least the slight sloped roof from the deli shielded the majority of the rain. But no matter how small I made myself, I felt no warmth. The icy cold constantly lapped over my skin.

  It was funny, but with this amount of time spent back on the streets, it was easy to forget what warmth felt like at all. Good warmth, that is. Cozy, safe warmth. Not the searing consuming heat that came with fever.

  Taking my hand out from beneath the blankets, the one still clutching the leather wallet, I snapped open the clasp and looked inside. I prayed and prayed that I would find money. The last few wallets I’d taken had held nothing of value. But I’d watched the boy this wallet belonged to today. I’d watched as he drove to the campus in a brand new fancy Jeep. Watched as the handsome boy with fair hair, olive skin and big gray eyes walked into the Husky stadium’s huge locker room, wearing only the best clothes. He was wealthy. Wealth normally equaled cash.

  My trembling hands parted the leather of the wallet, and my heart immediately fell. There was no cash inside. There were cards, but nothing I could use to buy food, to eat, nothing to use to win back some strength.

  Desperate scalding tears filled my eyes and fell to join the raindrops on my thinning blankets. Realization hit that I’d be going without food, again.

  I moved to throw the useless wallet away when, just as it tipped upside down, something fell to the ground, obviously from a hidden compartment. Looking down, my eyes focused on what looked like a necklace lying on the wet ground at my side.

  Reaching down, I picked up the necklace, noticing an old tarnished cross dangling from old scratched wooden brown beads. It wasn’t a necklace; it was an old set of rosary beads.

  I held it up to the light, turning it in my hand. A small smile etched on my lips. Although old, they were beautiful.

  Laying the rosary on my lap, I delicately ran my fingertips over each scratched and worn out bead, down to the cross at the bottom. There, in heavy silver, was the image of Jesus dying on the cross. I didn’t know why, but the sight of this obviously well used rosary brought tears to my eyes, and a harsh sting to my heart.

  Instinctively, I lifted my hand to the locket hidden well beneath my hoodie and took a deep breath. This, my simple gold locket, was all I had left. The only link I had to her, to my past. It was my most treasured possession. The only possession I had.

  The image of the boy in the locker room sprung to mind and my stomach instantly fell. This was his rosary. I’d taken his rosary; something that probably meant a great deal to him.

  Leaving the rosary on my lap, I opened the wallet again, and there in the clear center pocket was the boy’s face. Pulling the driving license from the wallet, I read his name: Levi Carillo.

  Levi Carillo.

  My thumb ran over his serious face and, even in this cold, my cheeks filled with heat. He was beautiful. Rich and handsome—he had it all.

  As I went to put the card next to the rosary, I noticed something else had fallen out with the license.

  A photograph.

  With cold fingers, I lifted the old faded picture from the sodden blanket and raised it up to the light. My heart clenched as my eyes beheld a picture of a beautiful brunette woman balancing a young boy on her lap. A boy that looked no older than three or four. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, and she was smiling down at him so big. The young boy was shy in front of the camera, but his sweet bashful face was filled with a timid ghost of a smile.

  But it was those eyes, those big bright gray eyes standing out like moonbeams from the boy’s tanned skin; they linked him to the older boy I’d stolen from today.

  Levi Carillo. Aged twenty. Seattle.

  Sighing, my head rocked back gently against the wall of the deli. As I smelled the food cooking inside, my stomach ached and growled in starvation. Holding out my hand, I stared at the dirt-ridden skin covering my fingers. Fingers that used to be full and healthy, now all dull skin and mostly bone.

  I jumped when the back door of the deli opened. Huddling into the dark shadow of the corner, I watched from under my hood as a worker from the deli emptied a trash can into the dumpster. The man startled when he looked my way. With a look of distain on his face, he slammed the dumpster shut and re-entered the warm deli.

  Picking myself off the cold hard floor, I got to my feet and quietly made my way to the dumpster. Using all the strength I had, my forehead now ice cold, my body racked with convulsing shivers, I opened the dumpster and peered inside. My heart dropped when I saw most of what was being thrown away was unsalvageable or inedible. But relief hit when underneath used white coffee filters, was a half eaten baguette. Reaching inside, I pulled out the stale bread and hurried back to my corner.

  Minutes later, and tucked underneath my blankets, I forced myself to eat the hard bread. By the third mouthful, nausea from my fever began to take hold. I dropped the baguette and helplessly fought the rush of tears.

  It was no use.

  They flowed thick and strong, melding with the pelting rain.

  My bones ached with coldness, but regardless, I reached into my jacket and pulled out the small notebook and pen. Sheltering against the wall, with the blanket over my head to protect the paper from getting wet, I opened the page and let my words spill forth.

  These words were all I had.

  They were my peace.

  They were my voice.

  As the dark clouds rolled above, hiding the rising moonshine, I pressed pen to paper and let my thoughts pour:

  Light devoid, no silver-hued moon,

  Shadows claim my soul too soon.

  With silence strong, I’m left alone,

  With aching bones and heart forlorn.

  The cold seeps in, an evil embrace,

  My only warmth: her face.

  Her face.

  Chapter Three

  Levi

  I pressed ‘save’ on the Word document just as a knock rapped on my pool house door. A smile pulled on my lips when I knew who it would be.

  “Come in!” I called out.

  In seconds the door opened and Axel walked in. My older brother was dressed all in black—black shirt, jeans and boots—his long dark hair was pulled back in the topknot he always wore and his tattoos cove
red every inch of his skin. He’d only been gone for nine months but, having only had him back in my life for a short time before that, it felt like I hadn’t seen him in a lifetime.

  As soon as Axel laid eyes on me, his lip hooked into a smirk and he flicked his chin. “Get the fuck here, kid.”

  Rushing across the room, I smashed myself into his broad chest. Axel’s arms wrapped around my back and he kissed the top of my head.

  “Fucking missed you, kid,” Axel rasped out.

  “I missed you too, Axe.”

  Axel pushed me back, his eyes checking me over. “You doing good?” His eyes drifted to the desk I was always at. I saw a wash of pride fill his face. “You still sticking in at school?”

  Ducking my head, I put my hands in my pocket. “Yeah.”

  “Still top of your class?”

  I could feel my face heat, but I nodded my head and quietly replied, “Yeah.”

  Axel’s smile under his dark bearded face was blinding. He hooked his arm around my neck and kissed my head again. “Proud of you, kid. So fucking proud.”

  Warmth filled my chest, and I stepped back. “How was the tour?”

  Axel shrugged like the world tour of his sculpture exhibition was nothing of importance. “Bene.” Axel’s eyes dropped and he stared at the floor. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, “Went to Florence last week, it was the end of the exhibition. Got to go to the Ponte Vecchio, kid. Got to see where Mamma’s ashes were scattered.” His voice caught, but he pushed out, “Got to finally say goodbye.”

  My throat burned as I listened to my brother speak, but I couldn’t say anything in response. Our silence became deafening, until I heard myself soothe, “Then she’ll finally be at rest, Axe. She’ll know you’ve changed your life and done her—done all of us—proud.”

  Lifting my eyes, I saw Austin had walked in to my pool house and he had his arm slung over Axel’s shoulders, keeping him close. Axel discreetly wiped at his eyes and Austin reached out and grabbed my shirt. Pulling me in, he wrapped his arm around me too and said, “The fucking Carillos back together again!”

  I felt Axel’s hand cup the nape of my neck. It was the first time since Axel had left to go on tour that I felt almost complete.

  Almost. There was always the hole that gaped open in my heart. The one I had no damn idea how to seal.

  We stayed that way for a couple of seconds, then Austin stepped back. “You ready to eat?”

  “Yeah,” Axel replied, and keeping his hand on my neck, he guided us to the outdoor covered terrace where the heaters underneath were burning bright.

  “Levi!” A female voice excitedly called my name, and I heard Axel laugh beside me.

  “Watch out, kid. She’s fucking missed you something fierce and y’all about to know it.”

  Ally Prince came running over the lawn, all smiles, her long brown hair blowing in the wind. I lifted my hand and waved, but as soon as Ally reached me, she threw her arms around me and squeezed me tight. “Levi,” she breathed. “We’ve missed you, darlin’.”

  I squeezed her back and couldn’t help but smile. “I’ve missed you too, Al.”

  “Mia luce, leave the kid alone and get your ass here,” Axel shouted from his seat.

  Ally rolled her eyes. “Always rough around the edges.” But she walked over to my brother and sat on his lap regardless. Axel’s thick tattooed arms immediately wrapped around her waist. Austin sat next to Lexi, taking Dante from her hands to hold him in his arms. Molly and Rome were sat on their own couch, hands intertwined with their daughter, Taylor, on Rome’s knee.

  Rome nodded his head at me, and motioned for me to sit on the single chair beside them. Molly was all smiles as I approached, and when I sat down, she leaned over to kiss me on my cheek.

  “So Axe, Ally, it’s fucking good to have y’all back,” Austin said and Ally squeezed Axel tighter. Rome handed me a beer, and screwing the top off, I sat back and listened to Ally start to tell us about the tour. I listened and drank my beer. I ate the steak that Austin had grilled while the conversation continued, but I never spoke.

  A hand hit my leg, and when I looked up from staring in a daze at the floor, Austin, Axel and Rome were sitting around me. The women and babies of our family had clearly gone inside. Axel’s hand squeezed my knee as he sat back in his chair.

  He didn’t say anything, just watched me. I knew he was concerned. Axel and Austin were always concerned about me. I knew it was because I was real quiet, that I wasn’t like them, but I couldn’t be any other way. This was me. I just didn’t speak much. I think it unnerved them how different I was.

  Dropping my gaze again, I began tearing at the label of my beer, when Rome asked, “No parties tonight, Lev? It’s Saturday night; you telling me Washington ain’t like every other school in the country?”

  I met Rome’s eyes and he was smiling at me. Rome nudged Austin and said, “Don’t think there was a Saturday we didn’t have one of our frat brothers throwing something at our house, hey, eighty-three? Any fucking excuse for beer and pussy.”

  Austin smiled. “Yeah, all the douches trying to get laid, until all the chicks zeroed in on you and left their desperate asses with only their hands for company.”

  Rome shook his head and looked to me again. I shrugged and threw a piece of the shredded label to the floor. “I guess there’s a party.”

  “And you didn’t wanna go... again,” Austin stated, his eyebrows pulled down into his usual worried frown.

  I ran my hand through my hair and shook my head. “You know it’s not my thing. And I wanted to see Axe and Ally.”

  “Lev, you ain’t been to one single party since we came here,” Austin said in exasperation. I squirmed on my seat, feeling all of their attention focused on me.

  “I know.” I offered no more explanation.

  Almost on cue, my phone vibrated on the table beside me and Ashton’s name popped up.

  ASHTON: You coming or what? Sexy Redhead is here asking for you.

  I reached for my phone to delete the notification, but before I could get to it, Axel had already seen the text. I quickly slipped the cell into my pocket. Axel got to his feet.

  He looked down at me. “Let’s go.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, when he walked in the direction of the back gate and out onto the driveway.

  Austin leaned forward. “Go with him, Lev. You need to start living your life, little bro. You gotta push yourself to get outta your shell.”

  Nerves suffocated me, but I got to my feet anyway and ran into the pool house to grab my cash and house keys. Two minutes later, I was out of the back gate and slipping into the passenger seat of Axel’s El Camino.

  There was no music playing. Nothing was said. In silence, Axel pulled out of the drive and onto the road. I glanced across to look at my big brother: his face was like stone, his dark, almost black eyes were hard and tense. I could see the anger taking its hold.

  As if feeling me watching, his gaze flicked to me and he sighed. “It’s my fucking fault you’re like this. This… introvert. All shy like this. Closed in.”

  My stomach fell and I turned to stare out of the window, to stare at the trees blurring into a constant green line. I could feel the pain and guilt radiating in thick waves from Axel.

  “Kid?” he pushed and my head drifted against the window.

  “It’s just not my thing, Axe. It ain’t because of you. It’s just how I am.”

  “It’s not. Yeah, you were always quiet, but me pushing you into the gang too young, making you fucking shoot people when you were still a kid. That shit pushed you into yourself. Then my going inside, not being the man of the house for you. Someone to have your back, guide you, fucking raise you.” He swallowed and added, “Not being there when Mamma died, it fucking closed you in, Lev. I may have been a shit brother, but I know enough about you to understand this. You were so fucking young to go through what you went through. What I made you do. You were seven when she got sick, and I left you to rais
e yourself so I could be in that fucking gang. All alone. It harmed you, kid. I done you so wrong.”

  I didn’t say anything in response, because as harsh as it was, most of it was true.

  “Tell me, Lev. You ever had a girlfriend?”

  My body tensed at Axel’s question. “No,” I whispered, my cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

  I heard Axel’s hands tightening on the steering wheel, and he added, “You ever even been kissed? You ever asked a chick out? You even talked to one that you liked?”

  I didn’t bothering answering. What was the point? He knew the answer. I was a Carillo. I was twenty, and I hadn’t ever even been kissed. I’d never even held a girl’s hand. I hadn’t even been on one date.

  “Fuck,” I heard Axel spit under his breath, and I rolled my head to face him.

  “I’m not like you, Axe. Or Aust. It’s just… I just don’t know how to speak to girls. I’ve never met one where I wanted to find the courage to want to speak to them.”

  Axel kept his eyes on the road, then flicking me a glance, said, “You’ve got a big fucking heart, kid. Maybe too big. And I know things have been shit for most of your life, but it’s better now. Isn’t it? Please say we’ve made things better for you in some small way?”

  “Yeah,” I answered honestly. “It’s better.”

  Axel exhaled in relief and we went into silent mode, again. When we hit the highway, and as I was still staring out of the window, Axel said, “Austin told me Mamma’s rosary was stolen from the locker room.”

  Whipping my face round to look at my brother, he briefly met my eyes and then focused back on the road. “Yeah,” I replied.

  “It’s cut you up.” He said it as an assumption, not a question. I nodded anyway.