Heaven Is For Heroes

Home > Young Adult > Heaven Is For Heroes > Page 7
Heaven Is For Heroes Page 7

by PJ Sharon


  “I wish she were different,” I said, wiping my tears away and sniffling hard, stuffing my emotions back into their cramped compartment down deep inside of me, somewhere out of the way where they wouldn’t take over my every thought.

  “Wishing won’t make it so, Sunshine. When it’s about family, we have to love people for who they are, no matter what.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and stared with me out at the garden and to the property beyond. Three wooded acres, two barns and the antique shop, all, three generations old. Family had to be about more than blood and roots. Maybe it worked the opposite way too. I thought about Alex. If you loved somebody for who they were, no matter what, maybe that’s what made them family.

  I picked up Alex as planned, the ride to the gym growing conspicuously silent. I didn’t want to talk for fear of ranting about my mother’s personality disorder, so I cranked up the tunes, opened my window, and let the car fill with noise the whole way there. The silence seemed to suit Alex just fine.

  We had already been to the gym three times during the week and I thought he was beginning to look forward to it. The physical therapist had him walking and stair climbing without his crutches but Alex’s limp was still pronounced and his balance needed work. We had gotten into a routine of meditating for about thirty minutes, a practice that was torturous with him interjecting thoughts every few minutes about how stupid it was. After meditation, we rode stationary bikes for a half hour, stretched, (another exercise in patience since he didn’t see the need for stretching), and then I ran him through the weight training circuit, pushing him until he grunted and groaned. I couldn’t tell if he was grunting in pain, annoyance, or approval, but at least he’d stopped arguing.

  I introduced him to the speed bag and he disappeared into the rhythm for a while before I dragged him onto the next thing. One day it was Pilates floor work (which he said made him feel “sooo girly”). Another day we worked on balance yoga postures. I instructed him on modifications for poses that would be impossible without an articulating ankle joint. I couldn’t wait for him to get his new leg, which would arrive in another week. He would have so much more freedom once the ankle joint moved. The new vacuum style socket would give him much better balance, stability, and control.

  With his incision all healed up, I figured today, we would get into the pool. I was as nervous about him seeing me in a swimsuit as I was about seeing whether he could still swim or not. It would be a big test for both of us.

  There were only a few people in the pool, lap swimmers lined up in three narrow lanes separated by blue buoys. Vic reserved the two open lanes for me to work with Alex. I stepped under the communal shower to rinse off before entering the pool. If I was out of the locker room before Alex, I knew he was stalling. It would be hard for him to come out in the open in front of people, his leg on display for the first time. I couldn’t imagine how vulnerable and scared he must be.

  I set the water to cold and shivered for a few seconds before turning it off. It was best to acclimate to the pool’s temperature before hopping in. Vic didn’t believe in heated pools. When I turned around, Alex was there, leaning on his crutches in his swim trunks and his stump covered with a black neoprene sleeve.

  “Ready for a swim?” I asked smiling. It took effort not to look at his leg. I forced myself to lock onto his eyes, something I’d been avoiding for several reasons—not the least of which was the effect it had on my ability to think straight. The jolt that went through me when I stared into the blue-green depths made me shiver again.

  Alex stared back at me, and then I watched his eyes trail down my body—all 5’10” and 140 pounds of me. I felt suddenly and completely exposed. He had seen me in swimsuits a thousand times when we were kids, but standing here half naked in front of him—I was instantly aware that he had noticed my chill. I turned my back and escaped for the pool, anxious to take cover under water. I heard him chuckle behind me.

  “That’s what I like about you, Jordie; you don’t believe in wasting time.” I glanced over my shoulder prepared to give him a dirty look when he leaned his crutches on a chair and hopped on one foot across the cement, grabbed for the railing, and then launched himself into the pool. He executed a neat shallow dive past my head, then torpedoed through the water and came up half-way down the length of the Olympic sized pool. “Whew! That’s cold!” He shook out his hair, the spikes standing on end in every direction. His hair had grown out the past few weeks. It looked darker in the water and I liked it a little longer. But nothing made him more gorgeous than the wide grin he beamed at me. “Pretty good, huh?”

  I dunked under and swam out to him, popping up a foot away. “That was fantastic. How does it feel?”

  We were shoulder deep in the water and he had to wave his arms back and forth to keep his balance, but he looked happier than I’d seen him since he’d gotten back. I sensed the freedom and lightness of his spirit, as if he had found a part of himself that he thought had been lost. He floated onto his back, floundering a little then righting himself again. “It’ll take some work, but so far it feels awesome.” He swam to the wall, an awkward modified flutter kick trailing behind, and his muscular arms dragging him through the water.

  I swam up to meet him. We hung on the edge and kicked together. “You always were a great swimmer,” I said. “I hoped this would help.”

  Alex stretched his arms out onto the blue tiled deck, his back to the wall. His lower body floated upward and he kicked his legs trying to find a rhythm to balance the absence of his right foot. “Really, Jordie, this is great. I appreciate how hard you’re working with me. I don’t think I would be this far along if you hadn’t pushed me the way you did. I owe you big time.” He kept his gaze focused on his legs as if willing them to cooperate. He pumped them in synchronicity, the left foot churning up the water so you could hardly tell the other was missing.

  I joined him on my back and kicked hard to match him, both of us causing a roiling eruption of splashing water. “The only thing I want is to see you happy and healthy again,” I yelled over the noise.

  He stopped kicking and pushed off the wall. “Race you to the other end.” In two strokes he was already ten feet away.

  “Hey! Not fair. You had a head start.” I shoved off the wall with both feet, closing the distance by a margin, but I knew he would beat me to the other side. I didn’t care. I felt like I’d already won in a big way.

  Chapter 10

  “Hurry up. I don’t want to be late for church.” My mother had apparently decided that a month away from Sunday morning Mass was the appropriate amount of grieving time, and she picked this morning to drag me out of bed for the event.

  “I’m exhausted. I want to sleep in.” I stuck my head under my pillow.

  “Let’s go. No arguments. You have exactly thirty minutes to get up and get ready.” She stood in my bedroom doorway, feet wide, hands fisted on her hips like a prison guard.

  I eyed her from beneath the pillow and groaned. “All right already; leave me alone. I’ll be down in a minute.” I heard her footsteps squeak along the old wood floors, each plank carrying a distinct sound so I could follow her down the hall and know what stair she was on at any given moment. I rolled over and begrudgingly sat up.

  I wasn’t into church like Mom was. I had a larger view of God. Studying Eastern practices had opened my mind to seeing the bigger picture. I believed in a God that lived inside of me, not in some building where you went once a week to recite your prayers and take communion, making sure you left your dollar in the basket before you escaped your hour of boredom. Somehow, it felt kind of insulting to God. But that was just my opinion and my mother had little tolerance for what I thought about anything. She didn’t force much on me. I guess I was lucky that way. But church, she insisted upon.

  Brig drove the Land Rover, Mom sitting in the front seat and me staring out the back window watching a cow pasture go by, the black and white heifers chewing the grass and digesting it over and over in their seve
n stomachs. My own stomach felt queasy thinking about Levi’s casket resting underneath the cross I was about to face again—the last place I had asked God to watch over him. Since my previous prayers for divine intervention for my brother had obviously been overlooked, I wasn’t on speaking terms with God just yet. And it wasn’t like sitting in church for an hour was likely to change my mind. I felt like such a hypocrite, not believing in half of what the priest said and yet following like a sheep up to the altar and saying “Amen” after communion. But that was a fight for another day. Mom didn’t look like she was in any kind of mood to be discussing our different perspectives on religion.

  I slid into the pew beside her, Brig inching in alongside me as we all knelt on the pad in front of us and bowed our heads in prayer. I whispered to Brig. “Do you need me this afternoon?”

  He glanced at me over his knuckles, “Another hot date?” He raised a bushy brow at me and I saw the teasing spark in his eye.

  “Alex thought we could use a little reward for all our hard work the last couple of weeks,” I whispered back, ignoring his dig.

  “Shhh!” My mother lifted her head and glared at me.

  “I’m just saying…” I rolled my eyes at her, irritated by her impatience.

  My mother sat back and pulled me along with her. “Do you need to discuss this right now?” Her voice was low, but her eyes looked about to spill over into tears.

  “Sorry.” I cast my eyes down, a little ashamed that I hadn’t thought about how hard it must have been for her to return to church. This had always been her place of refuge. I wondered if it still was, or if she was mad at God, too.

  The service continued on like white noise in the background. My head filled with cotton as my mind wandered and my emotions bubbled to the surface. Flashes of memories crashed through the wall I had so carefully placed around my heart—Levi sitting next to me on this very same bench, pinching me and tickling me to get me in trouble. When I would laugh or cry and cause a scene, my mother would come between us and give us that same evil eye that she had just given me, our family as complete as it could be without a father. I hadn’t thought of my dad as a part of our family in a long time. Now another piece was missing. All the sadness I’d saved up for the years since he’d died came back in a flood.

  “I have to go...” I stepped in front of Brig and escaped up the aisle, making a beeline for the rear exit. I burst out the doors into the sunlight and could barely see where I was going. Tears cascaded over and I sobbed like a baby on the front steps of the church. No one followed me. Why should I be surprised that everyone was oblivious to the breaking of my heart? I had been trying so hard to keep my feelings under control. Now that they were loose, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stuff them back down. What was I thinking coming here? Anger at my mother, Levi, God, the war…it all bubbled up and came out in unrelenting tears that I didn’t want to cry. I felt so alone. “Damn it! Why?” I cried up to the puffy clouds, not sure who I was yelling at, really.

  My mother’s voice stopped me. “Jordan.” She sat down beside me, reaching an arm around my shoulder. “I know it’s hard being here. It’s hard for me, too.” I rested my head against her, more comforted by her presence than I wanted to admit.

  “You know that I miss him too, don’t you?” I asked, sniffling to catch my breath.

  “I know, Sweetheart. I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. You have every right to choose to help Alex. And I know you loved your brother.”

  I lifted my eyes to her face, seeing for the first time, in a long time, the mother who combed my hair before bed when I was a little girl, the woman who sprayed Bactine on my cuts and bandaged me up when I fell. She was still the same mother who had worried about Levi and lost sleep whenever he was out of her sight, wondering if he would come home unharmed and alive.

  “Mom, have you wondered if Lee…did it on purpose?” As soon as the words passed my lips, I wanted to take them back.

  My mother’s body stiffened. She took in a long breath and let it out slowly before she answered. “All I know is what the report said. Your brother died a hero—saving his best friend.”

  “Do you think it’s possible though? That somehow, Lee found a way to end his life and make it look like an accident so that…”

  “Jordan. Stop it.” She gripped my shoulders and pinned me with a cold glare. “You have to let this go. Alex…made a mistake. I get that. I don’t really care what happened any more. I just want to move on and begin… letting go of your brother.” Her voice cracked and she looked away.

  Before I could respond or tell her I didn’t think Alex had made a mistake, she broke down in tears and ran for the truck. I let her go. Brig was right. She needed to believe that Levi had earned his place in heaven. It was the only way her heart could stand him being gone. I wasn’t so lucky. To me, only the truth mattered.

  Chapter 11

  “Kayaking was a good idea,” I said as I paddled behind Alex at a slow, steady speed. He took one easy stroke for every two of mine.

  “I figured we deserved a day off,” he called over his shoulder. The morning light glinted off his hair, the color of a pale moon on a clear night. His tanned muscles flexed and bunched as he eased the paddle through the water. A wash of happiness settled over me—a true happiness I hadn’t felt in over a month. Not since…no, I wasn’t going there. Not today. I wanted to enjoy this time with Alex—just the two of us. Not that it was like a date or anything. Alex had given me no real indication that he thought of me as anything more than a friend--more than Levi’s little sister—other than occasional glances when he thought I wasn’t looking. Mostly, he treated me like he always had—friendly, but hands-off. Did he even remember?

  I leaned back and soaked in my surroundings, my chin raised to the sky. The sun warmed my face and the serene call of the loons on the lake vibrated in the air, the sound bouncing off the Berkshire Hills. I drew a deep breath and let the life around me fill my soul. I thought about his lips on mine and about a sunny day behind the barn when he had kissed me long and slow. Back when we were too young to define what it meant.

  When I opened my eyes, Alex was staring and smiling—the kind of smile that said he definitely wasn’t thinking about me like a sister and the one that said that maybe he did remember. Maybe there was hope for us after all. Or maybe I was reading way too much into it.

  “What were you just thinking about?” He wore a curious grin as he peered over his shoulder, eyeing me as if he had been reading my thoughts and knew the answer already. My heart fluttered against my ribs and I picked up the pace, my Kayak pulling up beside his.

  “I was just thinking what a perfect day this is.”

  Alex took two more hard strokes. Then he lifted his paddle out of the water and laid it across the edge as the boat drifted silently along the surface of Thompson Lake. What was he up to? The south end of the lake ran along the nature preserve, its coastline devoid of houses and docks. Up ahead was a small beach surrounded by thick pines, maples, and oaks, a few birches dotting the forest like white knights guarding the woodland inhabitants.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  “I made us lunch.” He added, “Don’t worry; I didn’t try to use a stove or anything. It’s just sandwiches.” His boat slowed down and I steered past, pulling around him and gliding the kayak up onto the sand.

  “It’s still nice of you,” I said. A flush of warmth ran through me, thoughts racing to determine his intent. I was surprised when he asked me to go out on the lake, but I thought it would be good therapy. I hadn’t expected a lunch date. I climbed out of the boat and dragged it up onto the beach, removing my life vest and chucking it into the cockpit. I adjusted my shorts, tugging on the hems to make them an inch longer to cover my butt. My legs were seriously growing too long for my body. I lifted the tee-shirt over my head and tossed it in the boat, a little self- conscious of wearing a skimpy flowered bikini top underneath, my boobs filling it out nicely if I did say so. Sammy
had picked it out, saying, “The orange and yellow totally catches those red and gold highlights in your hair. Stop hiding that killer body, Dude.”

  Right then, I wondered why we couldn’t go back to those 1930’s style swimsuits that came down to your knees and up to your chin. I held my breath and waited to see if he noticed me.

  Alex pulled the twelve foot Pungo 120 alongside mine, dropped his vest on top, and reached in the dry well to extract a plastic container with lunch for two. He was becoming adept at negotiating uneven surfaces with his prosthesis, but the sand had to be an extra challenge. He glanced up at me, stumbled slightly and recovered, a flash of frustration passing over his face. He shook it off and beamed that easy smile at me that made my heart leap. He stopped and stared, his expression faltering just enough for me to see that he did notice. Okay, so maybe he was interested. My goose bumps did a cool dance on the surface of my skin.

  Alex cleared his throat and turned his back, tossing his tee-shirt onto the hull of the yellow boat. “It’s the least I can do to repay you for all the hard work you’ve been doing to help me out.” He plucked out a blanket he had rolled in a waterproof bag and laid it out on the sand, settling down and taking a spot while situating his leg. “I hope this thing doesn’t rust or get sand in it. I’ll sound like I’m grinding my gears.” He rapped on the hollow plastic below his knee and shot me a sarcastic grin.

  It was my turn to stare and clear my throat. The working out was definitely making a difference. Even if my eyes were traitorously disobeying my commands to look away from his shirtless and very muscular chest, I managed to find my voice. “It’s going to be awesome when you get your new leg. You’ll be a lot steadier on your feet and you’ll be able to go running with me and…well, if you want to that is.”

 

‹ Prev