“She’s waking up,” she heard Mabel whisper. Her voice reached Annis as if through a hazy veil, like she was lost in an alternate dimension, able to see across but not reach over. Arms tightened around her waist and it was then she realized that she wasn’t lying in her bed alone. There was no need to open her eyes and see who it was. Only one person could steady her heart by filling her with the beat of his own. Sequoyah.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “It’s still dark out, it’ll only feed the pain. Wait for light. We’ll face it then.”
She wanted to face it now, to soak it all in. The dark. The guilt. The blame. She wanted it all, wanted it to spread, to poison everyone around her. All of those who’d been foolish enough to follow when she’d made it clear she wanted to finish her fight on her own.
They hadn’t listened. They hadn’t respected her choice, and now, Sawyer was dead. And they were all to blame, herself included. His blood had stained them all, and it would never wash clean. No magic river nor full moon overheard could cleanse them of that burden.
Her body stiffened against his, and though she said nothing, she knew he understood.
“It won’t work,” he murmured, “you can’t separate yourself from me. Can’t push me away. Can’t be alone. It’s too late for that. You’re not a half anymore. You’re a whole. And I’m part of that whole.” His steady embrace drew her in more, until there was no space left between them. She surrendered, and sleep came back for her a second time.
The train was still the next time she awoke. Sequoyah’s arms were absent, as were the quiet muttering of Mabel and the snide commentary of her sister. Light streamed in, warming her skin, and she knew, wherever she was, day had arrived there right along with her.
“We need to talk.” Poppy’s hoarse voice met her from across the cabin. As soon as she heard him, she could feel him.
Her lids were heavy, tears and sleep adding to the struggle of lifting them, or maybe it was her intense yearning for darkness that kept her from wanting to face the day. Or Poppy.
“You’re going to have to come back sooner or later, Annis,” he said quietly. “Might as well be now when you’re still in limbo, aware of the pain but not anchored to it at the bottom of some dark abyss you’ll never be able to surface from.”
“Maybe I don’t want to surface,” she whispered with her eyes still shut. She pulled her covers up higher around her face.
“‘Want’ is not the issue, love,” he said sadly. “You need to surface. If you don’t do it now, I fear Sequoyah will drown pulling you back up. And I won’t lose you both.”
At last, her lids fluttered open. The sun blinded her, but she welcomed the sting. The physical pain was somehow comforting. It matched what she felt on the inside.
“Sawyer’s dead,” she said. She needed to hear the words, and she could no longer bear to wait for someone else to say them.
“He is,” Poppy confirmed. He tilted his head as he gazed down upon her from where he sat beside her on the bed. His eyes were filled with love, concern, and heartbreak.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” Annis said through gritted teeth. “He wasn’t meant to be there. No one was. I had a plan. I. Had. A. Plan.” Pain choked the breath from her lungs, making it impossible to speak.
“I know you did,” Poppy said softly, his hand stroking her hair gently. “Sawyer told me.”
For the first time since the world had ended in a shocking crash, she felt surprised. “He did?”
Poppy nodded. “He did. He was furious, mind you. Shouting about your madness, your ‘stupid selfless courage,’ I believe he called it.” He smiled, but it was drenched in grief. “Said you’d tried to convince them that you were giving up. Giving in to William and his demands. But he’d seen it.”
“Seen what?”
“In your eyes,” Poppy’s voice was little more than rasp. “Your fight. You hadn’t given up. You would never give up.” He sighed, breath leaving his body in a ragged shudder that shook his body. “He knew you would never let William win, Annis. And we all knew the only way you could stop him was by taking his only way to get the money. Yourself.”
“It was my decision,” she insisted, her throat feeling as though it were being twisted up in knots, same as her stomach. “You should have let me make it. Should have honored it.”
“Why?”
It was the only question she hadn’t expected.
“Why should we have honored your choice to sacrifice yourself?” he asked again.
“Because,” she sat up straight, scrambling for words that would convey the conviction she felt deeply within her. “Because I would have been able to see things through without any more loss. Without any more pain. I would have felt relieved knowing everyone else was safe. That William would never succeed in what he set out to do. I wasn’t scared, Poppy. I was never scared for myself.”
He nodded.
“I know that.”
“Then why not let me do it? Why not let me go?”
“Because we were scared,” he said softly. “For you. Everything that motivated you, motivated us. You would have given your life to keep us safe. Don’t you understand that we would do the same for you?”
She shook her head. “William wasn’t after anyone else.”
“So, it was your burden to bear alone, then? Being chosen as a target by a greed-consumed madman? I don’t think you’re entitled to quite that much.”
“Poppy,” she wrung her hands in her lap, anger fading and making way for the pain she wasn’t nearly ready to face. “It should have been me. William should have killed me. Not Sawyer. Never Sawyer.”
“I don’t think you get to decide that.”
“Why not?” she demanded, defiance fueling a new wave of fury.
“Because you’re not the one who pulled the trigger, love. Nor are you the one who took the bullet. Both of those choices were made by other people. And I assure you, love, they were choices. There were no tragic accidents last night. It was all orchestrated by conscious will and intentional decision. You want us to honor yours, and yet you find it impossible to honor Sawyer’s. And I, darling girl, would choose to honor neither if I could. As fast as we moved through the woods in search of you last night, we held back nothing in our efforts to cross between Sawyer and that bullet. We simply weren’t fast enough this time.”
Annis took in his words in silence. She remembered now. The wave of people flooding past her as she sat at the center of unfurling chaos. They’d never stopped at her side, they’d gone straight for Sawyer the instant they’d understood what he was doing, because he’d been the first to understand what William’s actions would lead to. What they did for her, they’d have done for everyone here. It was the same as she was willing to do for them. They were no different from her. She was no different from Sawyer. The only thing separating them now were split seconds of time she’d had to be saved that he hadn’t.
“The police,” she said, clearing her throat. “How did they know?”
“They returned before we even knew you’d been taken. Said they found Floyd walking in the dark and thought it best to bring him back. It was only then they noticed William had separated himself from the group and they grew worried that his obsession with you had gotten the best of him after all he’d been through. Shortly after, we found out you were gone too.” He sighed heavily, “Of course, they still believe Emmeline Sanders is guilty, but they also still think you to be Annis Watson and not Emmeline Sanders.”
“I am Annis Watson.”
“I know.”
But there was still one person who seemed to think she wasn’t. One person whose motives she still didn’t understand.
“Floyd,” Annis said.
“Hears voices,” Poppy reminded her quietly.
“I know,” she said, not wanting to argue or accuse anyone after all they’d already suffered. “But there have been moments, strange encounters with him, ever since I arrived. He’s spoken to me. Looked me di
rectly in the eye, same as he did William.” She paused, the ache of his name on her lips piercing her chest. “I know what I saw. What I heard. It wasn’t just rubbish churned out by his dizzying mind.”
“Of course not.” The words were so matter of fact that Annis was certain she’d misunderstood. “Floyd hears voices,” he said again, slower this time, as though he wanted to be sure Annis followed along with their meaning, “not rubbish. Not never-ending trails of thoughts that go nowhere. Voices, real voices, that no longer have the means to communicate any other way but to find a channel still in this physical realm.”
“What does that mean?” Annis could form her own conclusions, of course, but she didn’t dare, not when they seemed to be entirely impossible even to her.
“It means, those who have crossed over sometimes find they’ve left things unsaid to those still living. And Floyd can hear them. Once upon a time, he could separate the spirits he heard within from those of us out here. But it was too strange, too frightening for people to accept who he was and what he could do. And so, doctors and treatments...and torture, meant to destroy the gift he had, ultimately only succeeded in destroying everything else. Floyd is still there, but he’s within, where the voices are kind. Where there’s safety in their love.”
“So...the things he mumbles on about?”
“Aren’t his words or thoughts at all. They’re merely the messages of others, passing through him, unable to reach their destination because he’s no longer in charge of steering his vessel.” Poppy shook his head, sadness stealing away what little light his eyes still held.
“But some reached me,” she whispered, slowly recalling the things he’d said and considering their meaning if he had not been the one to say them. “It was...Annis?”
Poppy nodded. “I suspect she’s been here all along.” His mouth curved gently. “The search for that letter turned our car upside down. Babe couldn’t understand how they missed finding your old clothes. Wasn’t until she went to check on Floyd early this morning that she understood.”
Annis felt the pressure of a hundred tears welling in her eyes, but none were strong enough to fall. As she listened, her breath ceased to move through her lungs, but she was too captivated by his words to notice.
“Everything, your dress, the holey boots, the worn coat, right down to the ragged belt, all neatly folded and placed atop his nightstand, never bothered, never touched, because his car was the only one not searched.” Poppy swiped at his eyes, reminding Annis just how much love he held for all those in his care. “Do you think she’s still here? If I talk to him...do you think she’d answer?”
He met her gaze and held it, answering her before he said the words. “I think she said all she needed to. Don’t you?”
Annis knew he was right. Guilt caught her, weighing her down for hoping she’d be there, just waiting. She’d want her to move on, to find peace. Now that Annis was truly safe, her namesake would have nothing left to hold her here. And Annis would find relief in that, someday soon.
She turned to face the window. The day beyond the dark inside her was beautiful. “A tragic irony,” she whispered, taking in the glorious sun, who was oblivious to all the ugliness that transpired in her absence. “Were you surprised,” Annis said, her voice still thready and thin, “when you saw Sawyer running to shield us?” He’d saved Fin too. Somehow it was easier for Annis to reconcile within her mind that Smalls had been willing to die for the wolf rather than for her.
“No.”
She turned toward him, curious.
Poppy chuckled in the way he always did when things were obvious to him and invisible to others. “Sawyer Smalls is now and forever will be one of the most spectacular human beings I have ever had the privilege of knowing. People always thought of him as small, but truthfully, he was always larger than life in my eyes. He had more heart than any one person should have space to hold within them, and yet, a man with the smallest stature held a grander love inside him than any average-sized man might be capable of.”
“Do you know the only time he was ever nice to me was that first day I showed up?” Annis said, laughing despite her heartache. “I thought he was so sweet, trying to make me feel comfortable when I was completely overwhelmed.”
Poppy nodded. “You needed it then.”
“I did.”
“You got stronger fast.”
It was true, in part because of Sawyer. He never coddled her, never took for granted that she was smart. And tough. He demanded it of her in every interaction. In a way, he’d taught her more about being herself than any lesson she’d been asked to learn by Poppy.
Poppy seemed to sense her trailing thoughts, because he cleared his throat and began one of his own out loud. “For some reason, people always do seem to place a great deal of value on the people who are nice and often overlook those who are kind, especially if kindness isn’t shown in the manner they expect it ought to be.”
“Nicely?”
“Precisely,” he said. “It’s an unfortunate reality, and one I’ve always found to be particularly odd and difficult to reconcile. Some of the most wonderful people I’ve known in my life were brash, at times, brutally honest, and nearly every last one of them would count themselves highly offended if referred to as nice. Most people tend to confuse niceness for kindness,” Poppy continued, “and often forget that kindness and niceness are not mutually exclusive. They assume nice people are kind and forget those who have shown them kindness if they weren’t nice while doing it. Truth is, nice is superficial. It’s easy to be nice. Kindness takes effort. To show kindness you must be able to show mercy. Be willing to sacrifice, to compromise. Those who are kind cannot be selfish. Those who are nice, often are.”
Sawyer wasn’t the only one she thought of as she listened. So much of what he was saying was true about her Annis as well. She’d always been comfortable around Sawyer. Never shy or caught off guard by the way he tested her. Now that she could see, it was hard to understand that she’d ever been blind to it. The two were alike and had loved her similarly. It was no wonder she’d felt so at home, so much herself when engaged in banter with Sawyer.
“Don’t you think it’s strange, though, some of the kindest people having the roughest edges?” she asked.
“Not really,” he said, stretching his back as he spoke, letting the sun wash over his face. “You choose to be nice in order for others to like you. When you choose to be kind, you get to like yourself. Not everyone sees value in the latter, and unfortunately, in my humble opinion, people often invest poorly by favoring the regard of others.” He settled back down into his seat, letting his shoulders relax and meeting her eye to eye. “People come and go all throughout your life, but the one person you’ll never escape is yourself. What you think of yourself will impact you far more in your time here on this earth than anyone else’s opinion ever will. I suggest you see to it that it’s a good thought. I assure you, Sawyer had no doubts about the man he was, and so had no doubts about the decisions he made. Right up to his last one.”
“It’s hard to think kind thoughts about yourself when so many people lost their lives on account of you.”
“It’s hard not to think kind thoughts of yourself when you are so greatly loved that others are willing to gift their lives on account of you.” He patted her foot, which rested under the covers near him, and smiled at her. “Life is waiting. Don’t waste a second of it.”
He stood from the edge of the bed and left her to her thoughts. His hand was just clasping the door handle when Annis said his name.
“Poppy?”
He turned to look over his shoulder. “Yes, love?”
“The night you gave me an act, it was only because you’d run out of time. If it hadn’t been for William and needing me to hide in plain sight, would you ever have put me in the show?” It had been nagging at her ever since he’d asked her those two questions that she’d waited months to hear, but she’d been afraid to ask his motivations until now. All
of her worst fears had already materialized, and so a small thing like frustrating Poppy hardly seemed worth the worry anymore.
“Annis, love, I’m not the one who ran out of time. You did.” He turned, resting his shoulder against the doorframe as he faced her properly again.
“All those months...I waited longer for you to ask me into the ring than anyone else here.” She sat up straighter, running her hands through her disheveled hair as though clearing the tangled mess from her face would somehow clear her mind of the confusion she felt.
“I asked you into the ring the first night you were here. I daresay, you waited less than anyone, love, not the longest. And, as for that, there are those here who have been here far longer than you and still steer clear of the spotlight. Doesn’t mean they always will.” He crossed his arms over his chest and his left ankle over his right one, settling into the doorframe.
“No, you made me wait,” she insisted. “I didn’t mind, I knew I had dues to pay, Poppy, I just wondered if I was close. If you were giving any thought to asking me before you had no choice but to do it.”
He sighed loudly, shaking his head as she stared down at the wooden slats at his feet. “You ever wonder why Jacob’s not in the show?”
“The monkey?”
“The boy. The very hardworking, very charismatic, very dedicated and kind boy,” he corrected.
“Goldilocks,” she said. She’d always assumed he’d wanted it that way.
“Yes, Goldilocks.” Poppy’s familiar twitch shadowed the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you suppose I could find better use for him than the handiwork he keeps busy with?”
“Why don’t you?”
“He’s not ready.”
Annis kneaded at her blanket with her fists, frustrated by Poppy’s refusal to even once give a straight answer. “Maybe he’s just waiting for you to ask him, same as I was.”
He shifted up straighter. “You didn’t want me to ask any more than he does.”
The Wild in her Eyes Page 34