Heaven Is For Heroes

by PJ Sharon

  I had a feeling the trip had something to do with Brig, but I knew if that were the case, Brig would be no more help in finding out what was going on than Alex was. I’d said my goodnights to both of them at the door, leaving with a disapproving scowl of frustration on my face. Not that it seemed to matter to either of them. They had their heads together mumbling something about Brig showing Alex the workshop before he left. I stumbled to my room, exhausted from the trip.

  I pulled the box from under my bed, anxious to read Levi’s letter again before I could sleep. I had missed my ritual and I needed the reminder that he approved of me and Alex.

  Voices drifted up to my window from the direction of the barn. I turned out my light and looked out into the darkness. A black SUV was parked in the antique shop’s parking lot, and four people stood in a small circle by the barn doors. The motion sensor light over the parking lot illuminated the shadows, though I couldn’t see any faces. I could clearly make out Brig’s robust frame and Alex’s long legged, if slightly lopsided stance. The other two men I couldn’t identify from here, but I thought they were some of Brig’s poker buddies. In hushed voices I couldn’t decipher, they seemed to conclude their business quickly and disperse. I watched Alex shake Brig’s hand and climb into the vehicle with the two men. My stomach twisted and a bad feeling swept through me. He wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye, would he? And why would he leave with Brig’s friends?

  I waited at the top of the stairs.

  “He’s gone, isn’t he?” I asked, startling Brig as he locked the door behind him and shut off the porch light.

  He looked up at me, an expression that flashed from sympathetic to stern much too quickly. “You should get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  “Is what he’s doing dangerous?”

  Brig stared for a long minute. “He’ll be okay. You have to let go, Jordan. Focus on yourself—school, track, the gym. Keep yourself busy and he’ll be back in no time.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes and I saw the worry underneath. “He’s in God’s hands. There’s nothing you can do but keep him in your prayers.”

  An hour later, when I’d worn myself out pacing, and the house was silent, I lay down on my bed and stared at the photo of Levi and Alex, reminded of how much they looked like brothers. Then I studied the pages of Levi’s letter, reading about how he knew Alex and I would be together some day. As I drifted into sleep, I said a silent prayer that God and Alex could be as sure as my brother.

  I woke for school the next morning and dragged myself to the shower. I stared in the mirror. Crap. My forehead and nose were peeling. So here I was starting my first day of senior year, having to face all of my friends and classmates, who would no doubt identify me as the girl whose brother died in Iraq, and I had to do it looking like a lizard. Alex was off to parts unknown, and I had no idea if and when he might return. The thought sent another heaving lurch to my stomach.

  I did the best I could with makeup and a new pair of jeans, a flowery top and a pair of open-healed Merrell’s that fit like slippers. At least my feet would be happy. I pulled my layers of wild curls back into a clip and ran a lip gloss over my mouth. Not too bad. I looked nice, but not like I was trying too hard. I heard Mom downstairs fixing herself breakfast. It seemed strange to be back to the same old routine. Only nothing felt like it did the last time I left for school, back in June. It hit me how much had changed in just a few short months.

  We exchanged pleasantries and Mom handed me ten dollars for a week’s worth of lunches. “Good luck, Sweetheart. Have a nice day.” She grabbed her lunch bag and flew out the door, a travel mug of coffee in her hand. Brig was conspicuously absent from the breakfast table as I downed a bowl of cereal and rechecked the notebooks and folders in my bag. “Here goes nothing,” I said to the silent kitchen as I closed the door behind me.

  It was a ten-minute drive to Somerville High from Thompson Lake. I met Penny and Sami in the parking lot, hugged them, and asked about Katie.

  The two girls gave each other knowing glances and Sami, her hair streaked a God-awful blue, smirked. “Her parents transferred her to a private school. I think they were trying to get her away from us.” I could understand their concerns about their very prim and proper Catholic daughter hanging with the likes of Sami. She liked to party and had a reputation as somewhat of a flirt, but she was harmless once you got to know her. But Penny was as straight an arrow as they came. Figure skater, straight-A student, and devoted to taking care of her mother through a terminal case of cancer. I had the feeling Penny’s perfect façade was crashing down around her. She looked worn out.

  “How’s your mom, Penny?”

  We walked into the building, the crowd filing in through the double front doors, shoulder to shoulder and chattering like a flock of geese, everyone nodding and smiling to catch up after a not-long-enough summer break.

  Penny smiled sadly, her perky dark hair and brown eyes unable to cover the pain she was going through. She’d lost weight over the summer and the dark circles under her eyes made her look too old and tired for a high school student. “She doesn’t have much longer,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, Pen. That’s awful.” I couldn’t think of anything to say that would make her feel any better. I, of all people, knew that sometimes words were not enough. “If you need anything, let me know.” I gave her a hug and was relieved to see her smile, though I was immediately shocked by the feel of her bones beneath her baggy tee shirt.

  She and Sami peeled off and went to their respective homerooms and I walked into mine, the whole class turning to stare. The noise dissipated and the silence caused a wave of heat to rush to my face. I could see that my day wasn’t likely to improve. It was only 7:40 in the morning on my first day of school and I was already dreading the rest of the semester.

  I needed only four credits to graduate, but I had a full course load, heavily weighted toward the sciences since I’d been planning on medical school since I could remember. Calculus and Physics would be my big challenges this semester—math not being my strong suit. Latin, English and PE would be the cakewalks. I had my work cut out for me for the next few months. The spring semester would definitely be less grueling academically, though track season would be super busy with all the meets.

  I couldn’t imagine what I would do if Alex was gone for a long time. Would he be away for a week, a month, three months, six months? My stomach curdled at the thought, an irrational anger rising in my chest. Maybe Brig was right. If I stayed busy, the time would go by faster.

  Despite my busy schedule, the days dragged on, my thoughts repeatedly wandering to my concerns about Alex and when he would return. He hadn’t given me the chance to argue about him leaving and had avoided a painful good-bye scene by simply disappearing, a dirty tactic that had part of me fuming. But in all honesty, I didn’t think I could have handled good-bye. Maybe it was better this way. Caught up in daydreams of our summer together—the times we’d kissed, and how those kisses had gone from him trying to shut me up, to teaching me a lesson, and then to mutual and undeniable passion—I ached with hunger for him to touch me and kiss me again, and I could think of little else.

  My day-dreaming often presented problems. My teachers sounded like Charlie Brown teachers, their voices droning on and making little sense. I tried to concentrate, but heard only half of what was said, until the final bell of the day released me from my chair. My legs burned to escape. I ran the track after school, my time slower than at the end of last season. I had run only intermittently while trying to help Alex with his rehab. My life had taken a back seat to him and I realized how much of myself I’d given up without knowing it.

  After track practice, I went home to work in the antique shop. Brig offered no more information and avoided any discussion of Alex’s whereabouts. Then I ate dinner and exchanged small talk with Mom about school. I spent evenings on homework, desperately trying to keep my mind on the task at hand. I couldn’t let this obsession
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  with Alex derail my life completely. School had to be a priority and I had some decisions to make about my own future. Whether that future included Alex or not, I needed to do what was best for me.

  Days turned into weeks, each one a lesson in mental focus and what Brig called intestinal fortitude. I stayed tough, studied hard, kept up with grades, work, doing girl stuff with my friends on the weekends, all the time pretending my heart wasn’t aching and my mind wasn’t consumed with confused emotions I fought to control. And each day, as fall blew in with blustery intensity, my heart grew a little colder.

  On a late October afternoon while I was at the gym, I ran into Vic, who was just coming out of the women’s self-defense class. I hadn’t seen much of her the last month or two. She wrapped her arms around me and tugged me in for a sweaty hug. “Hey kid, I haven’t seen you in ages. Come with me and we’ll get caught up.”

  Before I knew it, I was slamming the heavy bag and spilling my guts. “Not even a good-bye!” Six weeks and three days and I obviously wasn’t over it. I kicked the bag harder and followed up with several tight punches to its mid-section. “Not one freakin’ word since he left!”

  “Sounds like a man on a mission to me. Don’t take it personally.”

  I grabbed the bag in mid-swing and glared at her, breathing heavily. “Not personal? He kissed me senseless and then left me. That’s as personal as it gets,” I snapped, and then I slammed the bag hard before turning away and heading for the water cooler.

  Vic followed and studied me in silence until I sat down and looked at her. “Are you calm now?” She didn’t wait for me to respond. “Good. Now listen to me. Alex did not leave you. Wherever he went and for whatever reason, you have to believe he was doing what was right for him. If you really care about him the way you say you do, you will respect that and trust him.”

  “But he didn’t even say…”

  “Stop whining. Accept that he had his reasons, and move on. You take care of you and let him take care of himself. If you two are meant to happen, you will. Be patient. It’s a virtue, I hear.” Seeing my expression of dejection at the hopelessness of that pursuit, her face softened and she smiled. “You’ve heard it all before, huh? Here’s the bottom line. You can either live with the secrets or you can’t. Are you willing to let him live his life and go on living yours, even if it means time apart? If you want to be with Alex, you need to decide if you can handle being on your own.”

  I rested my chin on my hands, my elbows on my knees. “Of course I can, but...” I leaned against the wall and let out a long breath. “All I know is that being without him sucks.” My brain was tired of thinking about it. A new thought came to mind. “Is that why you and Brig aren’t together?”

  Her face went instantly blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

  “Right. So was it the secrets, or the traveling, or that he wouldn’t let you in on the action?”

  Her blank face shifted to an amused sneer. “You think you’re so smart.” After a thoughtful moment, she said, “Brig and I are complicated, but let’s just say we both agreed our friendship was too important to ruin by getting overly involved.” She turned to walk away, clearly done with her half of the conversation. “You might want to ask yourself the same question about you and Alex.”

  “Yeah, like being alone has made you so happy,” I called after her, not willing to let the last word be hers.

  Chapter 31

  My eighteenth birthday fell on the second Saturday of November with a cold rain pouring down in buckets. I wanted to be excited and happy about such a major milestone, but my mood was as foul as the weather. Penny had buried her mom two weeks earlier. We hadn’t talked much, but she seemed lighter in some ways, maybe relieved that her mom was no longer suffering. For me, the funeral brought back memories of Levi in another flood of unexpected grief that made my chest ache. I hadn’t imagined it was possible, but I missed my brother more with each passing day.

  I’d stopped thinking I would hear from Alex again until he was good and ready to show his face or pick up a phone. Not even a text—the jerk. I’d also given up reading Levi’s letter at night, having tucked it into the bottom of the box along with the photo of him and Alex, and sworn them off limits. But I knew myself well enough to know that as hurt and angry as I was with Alex, I was more worried than anything else. What if something had happened to him? I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, too.

  Brig had left on a trip a week before, closing up the antique shop for the season and going to Miami to visit his sister for a few weeks. At least he’d left a note.

  Mom was trying to get me into the party mood, but I refused her repeated attempts to woo me into having a bash for my birthday. It didn’t feel right celebrating when my closest friends were so solemn. Besides, with my worries about Alex, I wanted nothing to do with a party. In

  fact, I was thrilled to be home alone in my room.

  I asked Mom to stop at the store and buy pints of Ben & Jerry’s—Cherry Garcia for her, Chunky Monkey for me. We planned a night of ice cream and horror flicks. With Halloween just past, there was a monster movie marathon on TV. Mom and I loved the really old movies with Lon Chaney and Boris Karloff. Something about the black and white picture and gothic clothes made them creepy in a cool way.

  I’d just finished returning e-mails from study partners when a clap of thunder drew my attention to the rain outside. I looked out my window to see a flash of lightning followed by a second rolling growl of thunder. My nerves jumped. Had I seen a shadow out by the barn? Maybe my eyes were playing tricks since I was there alone waiting for my mother on a stormy night in a big creepy old farmhouse thinking about vampires and monsters. I turned off my light and went to the window, staring out into the darkness—made thicker by the downpour. Another lightning bolt illuminated the night. I caught sight of a shadowy figure slipping through the barn door. My pulse rate doubled.

  Who could it be? I immediately thought about calling the police. Maybe it was a burglar, but that made no sense on a night like tonight. I scanned the grounds and saw the parking lot was empty. Unless he meant to walk off with his loot, he appeared to be out of luck. Whoever it was had either come on foot or was dropped off. My brain spun with the possibilities. Maybe it was one of Brig’s buddies looking for him. Or it could be some stranger whose car broke down and who was just looking for a place to get out of the rain. Whoever it was, I didn’t want the whole police force coming to my rescue for something silly. If it was any of the local kids just out having fun, I could handle them, and I didn’t want to be known for ratting them out.

  I tugged on my boots and grabbed a sweater since I only had on a tank top with my sweats. I slipped down stairs silently, my heart thundering against my ribs. I found the big black military issue flashlight from the closet and threw on my rain coat. If I had to defend myself, the flashlight was as good a weapon as any. I snuck out the kitchen door and made my way quickly around the house and across the yard, determined not to be spotted. The flashlight remained in my hand but I kept it turned off. I knew the property well enough to make my way in the dark, the frequent flashes of lightning providing additional guidance. The rain soaked my sweats and made them cling to my legs as I ran through wet grass and puddles to reach the barn.

  When I eased the door open a crack I stood still, listening. I heard someone rifling through papers on Brig’s desk in the office he had built at the back of the building. The door was half open but only a penlight glow illuminated the room. I needed to get closer to see who it was. I took a slow breath and held it, stepping as quietly as I could through the antique furnishings. White sheets covered them in ghostly shapes. I slithered between aisles trying not to bump into anything. My head knocked a lantern hanging on a hook. I caught it and silenced the creak immediately, holding my breath again. A chill ran up my arms. I shivered and froze in place when the pen light went out.

  A long moment of silent darkness passed before the man started
walking out of the office. He walked with a sure stride, obviously having found what he wanted. Now was my only chance to catch him off guard. I tucked the flashlight into my pocket. I wasn’t ready to take responsibility for bludgeoning someone to death. As he moved past me in the shadows I jumped him from behind, my height, weight, and velocity enough to tackle him to the ground. I swung as he rolled onto his back and my fist connected with his jaw.

  “OW!” We both yelled.

  Before I could wind up and hit him again his voice stopped me in mid-motion. “Jordie, it’s me, Coop!”

  “Coop? Oh, my God. You scared me half to death! What are you doing here?” I had him pinned on his back, my knees securing his biceps to the floor.

  “If you let me up, I’ll tell you,” he said, clearly annoyed I’d gotten the upper hand. I couldn’t believe he was here. I suddenly realized that he really was here, and my heart gave a shout of happiness. I moved my knees but stayed straddled on top of him, resisting the urge to smother him with kisses or punch him again.

  “I’d like an explanation,” I said. “Here is as good a place as any for you to give it to me.” I smiled down at him in the darkness, enjoying my seat on top of him. Awareness ran through me like a freight train and all I wanted to do was kiss him and feel him hold me. But I sat there waiting, my breath coming in shallow gulps.

  As soon as his arms were free, his hands came to my waist and he pulled me down on top of him. Our noses only inches apart, he held me still, and studied my face. A flash of lightning lit the small space between us. “I’ll tell you everything,” he said. “But first, I want to wish you a happy birthday.” His fingers brushed across my lips and then his hand went to the back of my head and his lips were pressed against mine in a warm and wonderful kiss that melted my anger and made me forget all of my questions.