by Robin Janney
“Yes.” Still, it was comforting to hear a human voice. He felt himself calming.
“Frankly, I’m not surprised. I’ve been expecting it. How did she kill you this time?”
Craig rubbed his face tiredly. “She didn’t.”
There was a surprised sound. “Come again?”
His eyes popped open. His room still seemed like part of the dream, and in his imagination, he could still smell sulfur. “I said, the dragon didn’t kill me this time.”
His friend took a moment to process this. “Did you kill her?”
“No. Right when I thought I was dead…you’re going to think I’m crazy, but an angel showed up and carried me to safety.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Kevin assured him. “That fits with your imagery rather well. So, we have a wounded knight and an angel. Presumably female. If this were a movie, we know what would happen next. Did it?”
“No, she was taken after the first kiss.”
“The dragon?”
“No.” Craig couldn’t stay still any longer. He began to pace around his bedroom. “That was my first thought, but it wasn’t. It…was bigger, blacker, stronger. I don’t know what this new beast is, I just know he’s something different from the dragon. Who tried to come back just then.”
“And?”
“I decided to go after the angel.”
“Good!” Kevin’s approval was clear. “Did you rescue her?”
“I don’t know. I woke up.”
“This is some pretty heavy stuff. Between the dragon and the angel alone, and then add in the new beast…well, if you ever decided to make a comic book out of it, you’d probably make a killing with this.”
Craig flinched, though his friend’s tone was light. “Don’t…don’t say kill.”
“Are you afraid the angel’s going to die?”
He shrugged, uncomfortable. His room was too warm, but he was cold. “It’s just a dream.”
“One that has you calling at five in the morning. I assume you’d like this new part analyzed?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Kevin laughed. “I’d have thought even you would be able to figure this out. It seems straightforward.”
“Kevin! Please!”
“Take it easy.” Kevin didn’t pause long. “I would say someone has come into your life who you think, who you hope, can free you from the grip Veronica still has on you.” The psychiatrist paused again. “I’m taking your silence for agreement, Craig. And my best guess is you’re afraid of losing this person before you ever have her. Am I on target?”
“Yeah. Who…” Craig couldn’t say it.
“Who’d she look like?” When there was no answer, Kevin sighed. “I think you know exactly who the angel is, Craig. You’re no dummy and your subconscious isn’t exactly being subconscious about this. Ever since you hired Angela, you haven’t been able to talk about anything else.”
“You’re right,” he admitted. He paused in his pacing.
“What are you going to do about it?”
The bravery and hope Craig had experienced in the dream had long since faded. All he had left was fear, and the fear made him angry. “Nothing! I’m not going to do anything! You know as well as I do that if Angela ever found out about Veronica and what she did to me, she’d be the one turning away. I don’t want to risk that rejection!”
“No, I don’t know any such thing!” argued Kevin. “You’re not even giving this girl half a chance!”
“What am I supposed to do Kevin? Walk up to her and say ‘Hey, Angela, I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I think I’m falling in love with you.’?”
“Actually, that doesn’t sound too bad.” Amusement was heavy in his friend’s voice. “Although I’d suggest calling her a beautiful woman instead of a beautiful thing. That might not go over too well.”
“Kevin! You’re not making this any easier!”
“It’s not supposed to be easy. Relationships are work.” Kevin’s voice was light again, no doubt trying not to offend him. “You could start out simple. Ask her out for a movie, or dinner. Or both. I know your little town isn’t too far removed from civilization.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not going to date her, Kevin.”
“Why not?”
“I just…I just can’t. That’s final. It’s bad enough I’ve agreed to help her with her karate class. I must be losing my mind.”
“No, you’re not.” The other man’s voice had gone flat. “But you might be losing the best chance for happiness you’ve ever had. The second monster in your dream could very well represent your own fear. That’s what has been holding you prisoner all these years, not Veronica. You’re too afraid to even let Angela try to help you face your fears.”
“Why would I be afraid of that?”
“It’s the only thing you’ve known since you were fifteen, Craig. At this point, it’s a security blanket for you. Your fear makes you feel safe even though it keeps you miserable. You’ve closed yourself off from relationships, especially romantic ones, because you’re afraid of what could go wrong. You can’t risk being hurt or taken advantage of. In doing so, you miss out on everything that can go right. The love, the joy, the friendship.”
“Exactly,” Craig said angrily. “There’s no guarantee of the good things. It’s all a gamble.”
“Craig, if you’re looking for guarantees, you’ve called the wrong guy. I can’t guarantee you anything. Not even that Angela will come into work today. She could have died in her sleep.”
“If she slept. I don’t think she sleeps well.” She’d mentioned sleeping pills once, hadn’t she?
“Be that as it may…Crap, I hate to cut this short, but I’m being beeped and judging from the number it could be a possible suicide. Look, just remember…if life and love is a gamble, then you have the advantage of being able to see through Angela’s bluff.”
“Yeah,” said Craig to the empty line. He replaced the receiver, his thoughts still on the blue-eyed angel who deserved better than him.
11
T he minute Craig walked out of the men’s locker room at the dojo just a Saturday later, Angela knew her boss was not a happy man. She sat cross-legged at the edge of the mat waiting for everyone to arrive; she was nervous and trying to center herself. Craig saw her and started in her direction. It was a struggle to keep her face smooth.
His unhappiness most likely stemmed from the meeting he’d had with Maeve shortly after his arrival. It had taken place in the small office, so no one had witnessed it, but Craig’s face had been furious when he’d come out and headed to the locker room. Maeve had come out with a similar scowl.
Please God, Angela pleaded. Don’t let this be a mistake. Maeve had already voiced her opinion on the matter, adding that Craig was to be used purely as demonstration and not in any of the attack scenarios. Would Craig say something similar?
To her surprise, Craig sat next to her, though a safe distance away, and copied her pose. “When do we begin?” he asked tersely.
The look on his face plainly said the sooner this was over, the better. “In about ten minutes,” she said quietly. She didn’t look at him long, letting her gaze fall to her clasped hands. “Not everyone’s here yet.”
“All I see are women.”
“I told you Wednesday this is a women’s self-defense class.” She looked at him when he snorted. “It’s not like you’re the only man present. Roy and Avery will also be helping me, and Kirk’s watching from the sidelines.”
“Women’s self-defense.” Derision tinged his voice. “So, I suppose we’re going to demonstrate moves by attacking you.” Craig sounded like he was looking for an argument, but he looked sick to his stomach even from the corner of her eyes. “Big bad men and all that.”
“No one here thinks men are ‘big and bad’. I certainly don’t. There were a few demonstrations I had in mind which had you and the other two ‘attacking’ me, but some were just to show what
karate can be. An art form, a dance between two people. It might be the only way some of these women will ever be able to protect themselves.”
She drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Craig. I was looking forward to sparring with someone new. I want the challenge and it would have been good for these ladies. But if you’re that uncomfortable, please feel free to leave. I won’t hold it against you, but I will not risk your attitude ruining this promotion for me.” She rose smoothly to her bare feet and looked down at him. “Besides, Maeve said I can only utilize you for demonstrations which don’t require you attacking me. So, if you’re staying, and I hope you will, go sit with Avery and Roy.”
Craig stood and watched as Angela turned away from him. She had a lot of nerve lecturing him about his attitude when she was cockier than he had ever been. Still, he walked the few steps to sit next to the teenage boys she’d gestured to.
He watched her as she introduced herself to the class. She was nervous, he could see it, but she handled herself well enough others might not. And when Angela’s eyes grazed over him, he was certain he saw a faint smile on her face. When her eyes came his way again, he smiled at her. Her face lit up like the noonday sun. This might not be as bad as he was expecting.
Five minutes later, when she beckoned for him to join her on the mat, he began to reconsider.
“Follow my lead,” she had said, and then had attacked.
Her body was hidden in the shapeless standard Gi, but it didn’t matter to him. Each point of contact was electrifying. Their moves flowed from one corner of the mat to the other. She pressed him, and he gave ground each time. He defended only, unable to return the attack, and she seemed to know it. Her hair was in a braided bun like it often was, those errant wisps escaping to frame her face. Her blue eyes were glittering steel. And there was a flush to her face which distracted him as much as the feel of her body each time contact was close.
Angela saw his distraction and seized it. She pressed the advantage, intending to put him flat on his back. Only it didn’t work quite like it should have, and she ended up landing hard on top of him.
The class clapped in enthusiasm, but the two couldn’t break away from each other.
It was the closest she had ever been to him in reality. Unlike in his dream, Craig couldn’t read everything in her eyes, try as he might. But he recognized the shadow in them because it was the same haunted look he saw when he looked at himself in the mirror.
He could see the recognition in her eyes. She had seen the same.
Craig pushed her away and rolled quickly to his feet.
Angela sat there a moment, watching him go, conscious of her audience. Before he could disappear into the men’s locker room, she hopped to her feet. There was no time for introspection here and now. The teacher addressed her class. “That ladies, is what we call a poor loser.”
She immersed herself in the class, enjoying it as the women followed her lead. Some were older than she was, a few were younger.
The rest of the class proceeded smoothly, the rest of Angela’s day did not. Maeve and Kirk had both asked her if Craig would be back next week, and she had no answer to give them. They both praised her on how she’d handled the class, even with the sour note of her boss’s abrupt departure.
She traveled from the dojo to the farm where she spent time helping her father with some chores in the barn. The ladder to the hayloft had broken as she was coming back down it and she’d sprained her dominate wrist; her fault for wanting to look for the kittens she’d heard mewling up there. By the time she walked into work late that afternoon, Angela was tired and sore.
Craig had met her in the break room with her list of duties for the night, unable to even look at her. The few times he spoke, he was short and abrupt. And then he’d avoided her for the rest of the night.
She bore it in silence. If he wanted to sulk, let him. She had work to do. The sooner she could get it done, the sooner she’d be able to go home and ice her wrist again.
What had hurt him? Her boss had the prettiest brown eyes she’d ever seen, and since all her family had brown eyes, she’d seen plenty. His eyes were often cold and empty, but they lit up when he smiled at her. But this morning, they had mirrored her own. She’d spent too many times just staring at herself in the mirror to mistake that look.
She knew the cause of her own haunted eyes and knew some ghosts were meant to haunt.
Closing happened soon enough, and Angela sat on the floor in the middle of an aisle frustrated. Her wrist was throbbing, and the pricing gun had just broken. David had left half an hour ago, and she knew her time was short.
Looking up at a sound, she saw Craig crossing at the end of the aisle. “Mr. Moore!”
“You have an hour left, Angela,” he called without stopping.
“But…” It was no use. She sat motionless for a full five minutes considering her options.
She could quit. There were a few openings she knew of in Jordan, which would be closer to school. It was an option.
As was walking back and giving her boss a piece of her mind. Being cross was one thing, being unprofessional and ignoring her was another. Besides, she couldn’t quit. No matter how much she denied it to Michelle, she liked Craig. A lot.
Her decision made, she rolled to her feet. The office door was closed, but that wasn’t unusual. Her knock wasn’t timid. There was a thud before Craig called, “Come in.”
Opening the door, she found Craig sitting at his desk. Apparently hard at work. Even though the papers he had in front of him were upside down. He was even writing upside down.
“What is it, Angela?” her boss asked without looking up.
It was too much.
“Mr. Moore,” she said coolly. “I’m sorry if I injured your male ego this morning, it wasn’t my intention. I caught you off guard, and I certainly didn’t mean to come crashing down on top of you like that. It does not give you the right to ignore me at work.”
“Look, Angela…”
“No, you look!” She stepped into the office fully and tossed the broken pricing gun on top of his upside down paperwork. It landed noisily, and her anger mounted. “It won’t work. I’ve tried fixing it, and I can’t. It’s the only one we have, which is stupid, and I do not want to mark everything by hand because my wrist is throbbing. And you won’t give me the time of day!”
Craig winced slightly, but he didn’t look at her. “Alright. Take a break and I’ll see what I can do with it.”
“Thank you!” She turned to leave, hoping he was also talking about his attitude. Just outside the door, she turned back, and her heart softened at the sight of his pained countenance. Would that shadow be there if he raised his eyes? “Mr. Moore, I am sorry about this morning. Like I said, I didn’t mean to fall for you.”
He waved it away, missing her Freudian slip. “You’re right, accidents happen. I’ve been embarrassed worse in college. Really.” He managed to look up at her, the truth of his own words settling in. She looked worried. He managed a tentative smile. “Angela?”
“Yes?”
“Would you please start calling me Craig?”
Angela smiled brightly, taking his breath away. “I’ll be waiting for you out in aisle five, Craig.” Forgetting to shut the door behind her, she turned and walked away.
He tried not to watch her until she disappeared from sight, but it was hard not to. She had a bounce in her step he’d seen before and liked far more than he’d admit.
Craig leaned back in the chair and let out a sigh of relief. He’d been glad Angela had knocked before entering the office. He didn’t think she’d approve of the sketch he’d been doing of her as the Angel from his dreams. How would he ever be able to explain that?
At least the tension from this morning was gone, and things were back to normal.
A quick check told him the pricing gun was beyond his ability to repair. He’d leave it for tomorrow, knowing David liked to tinker on things. Maybe he’d order a new one Monday, or two. Did
she say she was in pain? He’d have to ask her about that. He picked up a black magic marker from his desk and headed out to find her.
“The pricing gun will have to wait until tomorrow,” he said turning the corner into aisle five. “Did you say you were in pain?”
Angela scrambled to her feet, favoring a wrist. “Yeah. I fell out at the farm today, landed on my wrist hard. I might have sprained it.”
Might have? “Let me see,” he requested. She held her right hand out to him hesitantly, and he took it in his. How did a farm girl manage to have such soft hands? He ran his fingers over her slightly swollen wrist, praying she didn’t notice the slight tremble. “Angela, you should have ice on this.”
“I did, for a while. But then I had to come to work.” The young woman shrugged and pulled her hand back.
“Why don’t you go home then? I’ll finish up with the marker.”
Angela shook her head. “No, if that’s the way it has to be, I’ll suck it up and push through.”
“It’s your writing hand.”
“I know that! It won’t be the first time I’ve had to work through pain. I managed to help bring in three fields of hay before a thunderstorm hit once and that was with a sprained ankle. I think I can work with a sprained wrist to save the farm.”
“Save the farm?” he asked for clarification. Cori and Susan had mentioned something about her parents’ farm the night they’d tried framing this woman for robbery, hadn’t they?
“Yeah. I’ve managed to stop the foreclosure, but I’m still helping meet half the payments.” She sniffed, fighting tears. Her gaze was on the floor and Craig couldn’t begin to imagine what she was feeling, the stress she was under. He’d been spared financial struggle through his college years, for most of his life for that matter. Buying the store hadn’t even hurt. He almost asked her what it was like, but he could see the answer all too clearly.
“I’ll tell you what,” Craig said to her. “I’ll mark the cans and you can shelve them, with your left hand. Will that be acceptable?”
Angela relaxed, tension leaving her body. She returned his smile. “Yes. That would be great.”