Secrets: The Hero Chronicles (Volume 1)

by Mettey, Tim

  “I took her into the exam room. She had lost a lot of blood. She was AB-negative, the rarest of blood types. I started to work on her broken body, which lay motionless on the table. Her vitals began to fade. I was losing her. Her heartbeat began to slow. The nurse in attendance came running into the room. She told me that we were out of blood, and, due to the weather, it would take twenty minutes to get a backup supply. I knew my O-negative blood, which is the universal donor type, would buy the girl some precious time. I ripped off my coat and pulled up my sleeve, and I set up a transfusion from my arm to hers. While we were connected, I continued to work on her. I couldn’t let her die.”

  Both of the nurses, who were now in the room, were hanging on every word Chase said. Was it even possible to give someone a transfusion straight from one person to another? It was his story and he was on a roll. I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to get answers.

  “My blood bought the girl desperately needed time. I worked fast trying to put her back together. Finally, after four hours of surgery, I was finished. She was going to be okay.

  “Right when I sat down to relax, still with the transfusion going, a nurse came in. ‘Dr. Letterby, someone is here to see her. Is it okay if they come back?’

  “‘Yes, nurse, that will be fine,’ I said while unhooking the transfusion.

  “A man and woman dressed in formalwear came into the room. They were surrounded by men in dark suits carrying guns. I stood up as the woman, who was wearing a beautiful, beaded lilac gown, floated to the side of the girl and began to weep. She looked like she had come straight from a New Year’s Eve party. The man was in a black tuxedo and was right by the woman’s side, comforting her.

  “After a minute, he turned to me. ‘Will she be okay, young man?’

  “‘I do believe she will be fine, sir,’ I replied to the man in the tuxedo. The men, who I guessed were secret service, blocked the doors so no one could enter or see in.

  “The man in the tuxedo spoke again. ‘You are the physician who saved her life?’

  “‘Yes, sir, but my team was—’

  “He held up his hand. ‘Son there is no need to be modest. The nurses told us how there was no blood for her and you gave her your blood so she wouldn’t bleed to death. And you did this while you were saving her life. You are an incredible doctor and a hero.’”

  I tried not to laugh at Chase; I had to turn my head and pretend to cough so he couldn’t tell. The two nurses, who had started out in the hall, had now managed to inch themselves into the room and were almost sitting on my bed, mouths wide-open in complete awe of Chase.

  “Nicholas, do you know who that girl was that I saved in the ER on that cold New Year’s night?” Chase asked.

  Before I could answer, the red-headed nurse said, “It was Princess Katherine.”

  Chase smiled. “Yes, it was Princess Katherine. After that night, I became very close with the Royal Family, and that is how I found my calling of helping celebrity clientele. But I don’t just operate on the rich; I also operate on common folk like you.” He was looking right at the two nurses, and they started to applaud him like he was standing on stage after finishing a performance of Hamlet. I couldn’t believe he called them common and they still applauded.

  This was my chance to find out his connection with Cora. “Chase, that was amazing, but how did you get to know my au—my mom so well?”

  He smiled, still in storytelling mode. “Well, I met her at Vanderbilt, and we were really close friends. I helped her when—” He stopped abruptly. He looked at the nurses and said, “Thank you, ladies. You have been a great help. That will be all for tonight.”

  They both looked disappointed, but they left nonetheless. I hoped he was having them leave so he could finish his thought.

  “Nicholas, it’s time for bed.”

  He turned the lights off before I could try to question him more. I lay there in the darkness even more curious about their relationship. The questions of the day consumed me, but once again, Elle melted away those thoughts.

  ANNIVERSARY

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  When they came in to tell me the diagnosis, I acted like I was devastated. Cora even cried and comforted me. Chase convinced the staff at Bethesda South that I had a hairline fracture in a vertebra and that I shouldn’t play football again. No one there dared to challenge him. He kept me in the hospital for another week. It was horrible. Cora must have made a rule that I could have no more visitors because, after the first night, there was no sign of anyone coming to visit. Flowers, cards, and notes would show up, but nobody was attached to them except a candy striper or Cora.

  After I was released, Chase left on his million-dollar jet, which was as big as a regular commercial liner. Chase tried again for the hundredth time to convince Cora to get on the plane with him, but the answer was still no.

  Once home, I had to stay there for the next two weeks to keep up the charade of being severely injured. Being away from Elle for three weeks wasn’t part of my plan. Maybe just quitting would have been better. I kept waiting for Cora to lecture me, but again, like several times before, nothing. I kept busy by listening to music and watching TV.

  The two weeks of confinement were finally coming to an end. I was able to keep up with my homework, thanks to Cora going to school to get my assignments from my counselor. After the first time she got my homework from Joy Lemmins, she came home swearing that we were going to move just so she wouldn’t have to talk to “that stupid nitwit” again. She was one of those people that Cora didn’t like to be around. I couldn’t blame her.

  “Nicholas.” Cora walked into the family room where I was watching TV. She looked upset. Her normally precise mascara had run a little. Her nose was a tint of red. Before I was able to ask what was wrong, she said, “We are going to take a trip tomorrow before you go back to school.” She took a tissue and wiped her nose.

  Take a trip? We never left our city limits unless we were moving, and we weren’t moving because she hadn’t done any packing.

  “Cora, where are we going?”

  “Nicholas, do you know what today’s date is?”

  “I have no idea. It’s September something.”

  “No, tomorrow’s the tenth of October.”

  The grief that Cora had been experiencing covered me like a wet blanket. How could I not know the date? How? Tomorrow would be the five-year anniversary of my parents’ death. I put my face into my hands, feeling ashamed. The memories of that day started to flood back. Luckily, Cora sat down next to me and rubbed my back, keeping me in the present.

  “I want to take you to see your parents’ graves.”

  “Do you think it’s safe to go?”

  “We have been gone too long, Nicholas. If we are careful, we should be fine.”

  “Should be fine? Don’t you think it’s too big of a risk?”

  “It is a big risk, and one that I don’t think we should take, but it has been too long.” She pulled out another tissue, tucked it in her sleeve, and wiped away some more tears. “It’s time we go home.”

  **

  It was surreal driving back to our hometown. The trees’ amber leaves fluttered in the cool autumn breeze. The sky was full of grey, low-lying clouds covering the sky. I didn’t sleep at all the night before, and from the look of it, Cora hadn’t either. I hadn’t thought that I would ever see my home again, or at least not this soon. I was hoping Cora would talk about something to distract me like she normally did, but today she was not interested in talking. All I could focus on was the question, the single question that worried me: what was I going to say to my parents?

  I wondered how the place would look. Had the past five years changed things, making them unrecognizable? The more I thought about it, the more questions came to mind. As we got closer, the sun managed to push through the clouds, making the rays look like thousands of tiny slides coming down from heaven. My mom used to say that those were slides for angels to ride down to earth.

 
Around the sun, the sky was blood red. The clouds farthest away from the sun were vibrant orange. The beautiful sky was a slight distraction, but the agony that was eating away at my soul needed more distraction. Thoughts of Elle were the only thing that made me feel like I could handle what was ahead of me.

  The truck rumbled down the road. It seemed to remember every bump and dip, effortlessly driving on the winding road. It seemed like only yesterday I was riding on this very road, fleeing with Cora. The road straightened out, and my heart quickened with anticipation. We were getting close to home.

  The road took us through a small wooded area on the outside of town. In the distance I could see a clearing with a large sign, which was new. When we got closer to the clearing, I could see that it was a city sign that read, “Mt. Vernon.” There were hundreds of flower bouquets and wreaths surrounding the large wooden sign. The flowers blocked out the rest of the writing below the city name. Among the flowers were pictures of people, memorials.

  When our truck passed the sign, we were out of the woods and in a clearing. What we saw next was shocking. The city cemetery, which once was on a small plot of land right next to the town, now stretched on for miles. There were buildings off in the distance, but they were far away like a backdrop in a theater production. The once small Mt. Vernon Cemetery was now enormous.

  Cora drove us to where the old entrance to the cemetery used to be. It had been widened, and the entrance now had a large wrought-iron gate surrounding it. In large letters over the entrance it said, “We will never forget how you were taken 10-10.” We drove through the large gate slowly. I stared out over the cemetery in disbelief.

  There were people carrying large bundles of small American flags, which they were putting on every grave and monument. Cora’s eyes were red and watering. She was holding the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles had turned white. I wanted to comfort her, but there was a lump in my throat making it impossible for me to talk. Cora slowed the truck and then I saw it—the oak tree on a small hill where we had buried my parents. The small tree had grown a lot in five years, but I knew that we had arrived.

  We sat in silence just staring at the tree. I remembered the last time Cora and I sat in this place. It was when she told me we would have to disappear and leave everything we knew behind. It’s hard to believe that it had been five years; it seemed like yesterday.

  “Nicholas,” Cora said in a raspy, almost inaudible voice, “we can’t stay long. You must ignore all the people around you. That’s very important.”

  I looked around the cemetery. There were hundreds of people scattered throughout.

  She continued with her instructions, “I will stay in the truck with the engine running just in case anyone recognizes you. If you notice anyone staring or if you feel uneasy about anything, get back here right away.”

  I was not looking at her. I couldn’t stop staring at the tree.

  “Nicholas, did you hear me?”

  I was still unable to talk, so I nodded and got out of the truck. I walked directly to the tree, trying to keep my head down as much as possible to avoid eye contact with any of the people nearby.

  Every headstone I passed had something horribly in common: the date of death. There were whole families that had all died together. I was jealous that I was not another grave marker here along with the rest of my family. My mom and dad’s headstones were right in front of the tree, just like I remembered. My parents’ graves were covered by flowers, more than any others around. Someone had placed a hand-carved stone bench at the end of their graves.

  On my mom’s headstone were inscribed the words, “I am here. All you have to do is close your eyes.” When asked what I wanted on it, that phrase was all I could think of. The night before she died I was having trouble sleeping, and she said those very words to me. “Nicholas, don’t worry. I am here. All you have to do is close your eyes.”

  My dad’s headstone only had the word “love” inscribed on it because that’s what my dad was, love. He didn’t say much, but he loved my mom and me. He took such good care of us, always making sure that he was everything a father and a husband should be. So when asked what I wanted on his headstone, “love” had to be it.

  “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve visited. Aunt Cora thought it would be better if we stayed away for a while. I’m not sure why we came now, but I am glad we did. As you know, we have been moving a lot. This time I’m actually at a school where I am not just a number. Dad, I made the varsity football team this year and played in a couple of games. You would be proud.”

  I rambled on about school and football, and then I ended with telling them about Elle. I couldn’t control my emotions any longer. I fell to my knees and began to sob uncontrollably. “Why didn’t I die too? Then we all could be together now. Mom, Dad, I miss you so much.” My tears watered the ground in front of me.

  I became sick. I felt like I was being turned inside out, like I would never be okay again. I got up off my knees to get my pack of Tic Tacs out of my pocket. I took a deep breath and wiped my face. Suddenly, I felt like something was wrong. The fire inside me lit, and instinctively I snapped around and began to walk briskly toward the truck. A small group of people had been watching my every move and was now moving toward me. A voice inside me said, “Run!” I broke into a sprint, weaving in and out of the headstones. The fire burned hotter and my surroundings blurred.

  When I got into the truck, Cora was still looking straight ahead. “Where did you come from?”

  “Cora, we have to go now.” Cora didn’t take time to look out the windows or question me further. She put the truck into drive and whipped us around with the wheels squealing loudly on the pavement.

  We were out on the main road passing the Mt. Vernon sign when she asked, “What happened? Did someone approach you?”

  “No, but I felt like something was wrong, and when I turned around to walk to the truck there was a group of people moving toward me from every direction, so I ran.”

  “Nicholas what do you mean you felt something was wrong?” she asked calmly. The panic that had just been in her voice was now gone.

  “I don’t know, I had just finished talking with Mom and Dad when I felt it. I don’t know why, I just felt like I was in trouble.”

  Cora listened but didn’t say anything.

  COURT

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  After our trip, I was finally allowed to go back to school. I no longer felt the need to hide or blend in once I went back. My secret was still hidden, but Nicholas Keller could finally be a part of something. For some reason, I felt safe here at school. I had confidence. This was a different feeling for me because I usually only felt this way when Cora was around. Maybe it was because I had talked to Elle the night before, and she was excited that I was coming back. She said that she couldn’t wait to eat with me under the stairs.

  Apparently for the last couple of weeks, Eric had been talking to everyone in the school about me. He was like a campaign manager trying to get me elected for something I wasn’t running for. Eric had made it his personal mission to make sure they erected a statue to me for my heroics. With everyone knowing me now, it made me wonder if all the cloak and dagger, moving around and hiding, had been a mistake by Cora. Even Oliver stopped picking on me, probably because I was off the team, which is what he wanted all along. He was now completely ignoring me. I didn’t have to hide any longer. That burden was lifted off my shoulders.

  The Homecoming Dance was coming up soon. Over the last week I had become determined that I was going to ask Elle. Normally, any dance or social event was off limits, but Cora had asked me if I was going, so I figured I could go if I wanted to. Even more surprising than being allowed to go was that I was nominated to Winsor’s Homecoming Court, which was incredible because Elle was too. It seemed like the stars were aligning. Maybe it was destiny for us to go to the dance together. I was pretty sure that she had been asked already, which was understandable
because the dance was only a couple of weeks away, but I was hoping she had been waiting for me to ask her.

  On my way to meet Elle under the stairs to eat, I stopped by my locker to get some books. That’s when I heard the familiar chipmunk voices. It was Jennifer and Julie, Elle’s friends from math class. They were standing by the water fountain, talking in their usual loud way for all to hear.

  “I can’t believe she was nominated for court and we weren’t.”

  “I know. How long do we have to keep being nice to her?”

  “This was supposed to be our year. We are seniors. She’s a lowly junior.”

  They walked by me. They didn’t even notice I was there.

  **

  “So, Elle, are you excited about being on the Homecoming Court?” I asked, propping myself up with my backpack against the wall, finally under the stairs with her.

  “No, not really.”

  “Why not?”

  “Homecoming Court is just some stupid popularity contest,” Elle said, not looking up from her salad and grape pop.

  “What’s wrong with that?” I asked.

  Elle looked up. She looked angry.

  “Elle, are you okay? I’m sorry if I made you mad.”

  She gave a half-hearted laugh and said, “Nicholas, you didn’t make me mad. It’s just that no one paid attention to me last year or the year before, and now I’m on the Homecoming Court after being invisible for two years. I never fit in with the popular crowd because I never gossiped, had the right clothes, or had the right zip code . . . and I was okay with that. But everything changed when I got contacts, began to wear some make-up, and had a certain football player begin to like me. I know what you’re thinking—why did I do all of that if I didn’t want to be noticed? I’m not shallow, Nicholas. I just wanted to be happy with what I saw in the mirror.” Tears welled up in her stormy eyes.