“Yes. He helped us carry you down to the car.”
“He rode to the hospital with us?”
“No. Cherrie drove. I held you. There wasn’t enough room in my car. I wasn’t in any shape to drive so we drove in her car. Aaron drove his.”
“Aaron has a car?”
“Some old truck he was driving. Said it belonged to a Bernard.”
“So what did you guys talk about at the hospital?”
“Not much. We were all shaken and upset. Cherrie wouldn’t sit down. She kept going outside. I think she was smoking? Does she smoke?”
“I don’t think so, Mom. Aaron was there?”
“Yes. He sat off in a corner by himself at first.”
“At first?”
“Until Cherrie introduced us.”
I tried to imagine the breaking of that ice. Knowing Cherrie she probably used a sledge hammer.
“She said he was a classmate of yours.”
“Yes, we have biology together.”
“He sure is a handsome young man. He seems to like you a lot.”
“Oh, yeah? I didn’t know that.”
Even though I had hoped Aaron felt something for me. Now I wasn’t so sure his feelings for me came from his heart.
Had Aaron waited at the hospital because he felt guilty about causing my accident? Is that why he infused me with energy? He was afraid I would die or get sick and suffer for having caused it?
I felt his drug wearing off, both the idea of love and the energy.
“He stayed at the hospital all night in the waiting room. They wouldn’t let him in to see you. They weren’t going to let Cherrie in either, but I told them she was your sister.”
“Yes. I saw Aaron this morning.”
“Good. After spending all night I hoped they would let him see you. How come you haven’t told me anything about him?”
“Told you I knew him, Mom.”
“Yes, but no details.”
“Just met him this past week. We have Biology together. We’re dissecting a pig. Nothing else much too tell,” I lied.
“Well, he sure is a nice boy. He kept telling me how sorry he was to have seen you get hurt. He asked me to keep him informed of how you were doing and, when I told him he should go home, he said he’d rather not. He wanted to stay until you were released.”
“He should have gone home.”
I said this almost too harshly. The knight in shining armor I had envisioned was fast becoming tarnished.
“I know. I told him. But he insisted. Said he felt like it was his fault. He wanted to be there in case you needed him.”
“For what?”
“Told me sometimes it helps just to be touched.”
My chill came back big time! The thought of it scared me.
Had he touched Dierdra?
“Did he touch you, Mom?”
“Yes, he did. He was right. I felt much better. The human touch can be a powerful thing.”
Yes, especially if it is coming from Aaron!
“I think he’s Christian,” Dierdra said. “Maybe even Lutheran.”
“It doesn’t matter, Mom. You shouldn’t let young boys touch you. Ever!”
“Why not?”
It took me a second to come up with an excuse. The best I could think of was, “because you never know what they’ve handled. Aaron touched a dead pig at school.”
My comment gave Dierdra pause for thought, but not the way I expected it to—more puzzlement than fright.
If Aaron continued to go around healing everyone with his transference of energy, how long could he possibly last?
Then I got to thinking; if Aaron had been responsible for what happened to me, logically he felt guilty. Most people would want to correct their error. Maybe, by touching Dierdra and touching me, Aaron felt he was fixing the mistake.
So this should be a good thing, right?
The fire warmed the room. I piled on more wood. Dierdra nodded off. I tucked her in.
As I climbed into bed, I looked out the window.
Rain fell.
A good day not to go to school.
A good day to stay in bed.
15 LAW OF ONE
I woke up for a couple of reasons. I felt cold and it was to quiet.
I checked my watch. It said 8 o’clock.
I hadn’t slept long, or at least I thought I hadn’t slept long. One look out the window told me I slept through the night. The sun shone.
It was Friday morning.
Not wanting to wake Dierdra, I tip-toed out into the living room. The blanket she used last night lay folded up neatly on the couch. Her suitcase was gone. I expected her to be in her bed.
She wasn’t.
The note hanging on the refrigerator door told me why. She had gone to Redding and would be spending the night. There was more.
Julissa
I’m glad we had our talk last night. I’m not really sure what was said as I don’t remember it all. I know I shouldn’t be drinking so much, but sometimes that is what gets me through the day. The best way I can describe the way I am feeling about your dad right now is with this poem.
If tears could build a stairway
And memories were a lane,
I would walk right up to heaven
To bring you home again.
No farewell words were spoken.
No time to say good-bye.
You were gone before we knew it,
And only God knows why.
My heart still aches in sadness
And secret tears still flow.
What it meant to lose you,
No one will ever know.
Rest today and I’ll see you tomorrow.
Love Mom
I pulled the collar of my robe up around my neck to ward off the chill, from inside and out. Tears rolled. I dashed them away.
I understood Dierdra’s pain, to some extent. But I didn’t know what it was to lose a soul mate, to have a chunk of your soul ripped from you.
Simon had been gone a lot when I was young, on the road driving truck. In my tweenies, he switched jobs and started driving short hauls out of Minneapolis to the surrounding areas, trucking ash for a concrete company. I knew he gave up something he loved—the open road—to be closer to home and us. But by then it was too late. We had never been close and we were growing apart.
I never doubted I was Daddy’s little girl, but I barely knew my father.
My head felt cold, especially where the bruising had set in. I searched my back pack for the maroon beanie. It wasn’t there, so I slipped on my WBL orange beanie and pulled it down over my forehead. The pressure helped with the soreness and warmed the wound. I guessed when I was knocked to the pavement my maroon beanie had gone flying.
The wood box needed filling so out the door I went.
The chill of the morning set me to shivering. I gritted my teeth at the cold. Birds sang which, to me, was a good omen for a dry day. I hadn’t seen the sun for a few days and, after being in the dark so long, it took my eyes awhile to adjust to the brightness. My gaze drew to the east and the bulk of Mount Shasta.
I saw Shasta as the poet, Joaquin Miller, described it: Lonely as God, and white as a winter moon, Mount Shasta starts up sudden and solitary from the heart of the great black forests of Northern California.
The rain had washed away all the snow and ice in the flatlands, but the mountain kept her new covering of snow. The trees dotting her flanks were heavily covered in a thick layer of white. I thought it would make a pretty Christmas card. Even from the distance where I stood, I could see the sparkling of the sun off the ice crystals.
All so very pretty.
I set the wood tote down and stepped out onto the street. I searched the pavement and looked to the gutters in search of my beanie. I remembered being told, after I was hit, I slid down the street.
I strolled down the hill, farther and farther from the house.
It dawned on me the neighbors might think I had gone
loony. Here I was, wandering around out in the street with my robe and bright orange hat on. As I searched for my beanie I saw Cherrie walk out of her house. She carried a snowboard.
I backtracked.
I gave my best shot at sounding motherly and bitchy. “And where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
Cherrie opened the back seat of the LC and slid the board in.
“If you got to ask that question you haven’t lived in this town long enough.”
I threw my arms up in surrender. “Okay. I admit it. But,” I said, “I have a girlfriend who confides in me. So what’s up?”
“Yeah. You also got a girlfriend who’s going to ask you what the hell you’re doing roaming around out in the street? Didn’t you learn your lesson, yesterday?” She tapped her head. “Forget the knock on your noggin?”
“I lost my beanie, my maroon hat.”
“Consider yourself lucky. At least you didn’t lose your brain with the hat. Or did you?”
I stepped closer. “No school today?”
“No one has school today.”
“You serious?”
She gave me the don’t-I-look-serious-to-you face.
“School’s closed down?”
“They don’t have a choice. Half the kids call in sick on the first snow day. Principal used to fight it. Now they just give everyone a snow day and make it up later.”
I looked at the mountain.
Cherrie saw my gaze.
“You want to go?”
“Snowboarding?”
“No. To school, silly. What else? Have you snowboarded?”
“No. Skied a bit.”
“In Minnesota?”
“Yes.”
“On what? Mounds of snow?”
“Buck Hill.”
“Should have known. A hill? How high?”
I thought for a minute.
“Three hundred feet or so.”
Cherrie chuckled. “That’s not a hill. That’s a speed bump.”
“Don’t knock it. Lindsay Vonn learned to ski there.”
“Who?”
“Just the greatest American downhill skier there is.”
Cherrie threw her snow boots in the back seat.
“Yeah, but can she snowboard?”
“Probably. She’s an Olympic gold medalist.”
“So what happened to you?”
“To me?”
“You learned to ski on the speed bump. Why aren’t you going to the Olympics?”
“Funny.”
“I thought so. So, hey, do you want to come along or not?”
“Sure. If you teach me how to snowboard.”
“I don’t know.” She gave me the once over. “Doc said you were supposed to take it easy for a few days, remember? Or did you lose that part of your brain as well?”
“I’m feeling fine.”
“Either you are a quick healer or someone’s been laying their hands on you. I wonder who that might be?”
“You want me to come or not?”
“What’s your mom going to say?”
“She’s not home.”
“Client in Redding, huh?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t elaborate.
Cherrie tapped her snowboard.
“The first step in snowboarding is to actually have a snowboard. Don’t imagine you have one lying around, do you?”
“No.”
“I know this is going to break your heart, but we’ll have to stop by the Fifth Season on the way and rent you some gear.”
I masked a smile.
There was a good possibility Aaron, given the day off from school and with the slow season over, would be working.
“Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed the wood tote on the way back in, rushed to my room, and put on a pair of sweat pants and a sweater. I took a look in the mirror and screwed up my nose. My head looked like the total disaster I was.
I pulled the beanie off.
My hair hadn’t been washed for two days. It stuck out like porcupine quills. The bandage wrapped around my temple made me look like a war veteran.
I peeled it off.
There was a small bump with some bruising but, thankfully, no cuts, stitches and soon-to-be scars. I didn’t have time for make-up. Already, I could hear Cherrie leaning on the horn.
I threw on the beanie and my coat and out the door I went.
“How do I look?” I asked Cherrie after jumping into the car.
“Like road kill.”
“You didn’t look.”
“I don’t have to. I saw you hit the pavement. Remember?”
“No, I don’t remember. What’s your version?”
“Of what?”
“My becoming road-kill.”
Cherrie pulled the steering wheel hard right to execute a turn. The power steering screeched.
“If you’re asking if I saw Aaron there, yes I did.”
“So you saw what he did?”
“Of course. He scraped you off the pavement and hauled you down to the car. Glad he showed up. No way I could carry you that far. You were like a feather in his arms. He’s strong, I’ll give him that. And fast. Your mom and I had a hard time keeping up with him.”
“So you didn’t actually see the accident.”
“No. Your mom told me about it.”
“And you didn’t find anything unusual about what happened?”
“Told you before. I don’t find anything the Delmons do bizarre anymore. You know as well as I what is going on. From what I’m seeing the Delmon boys are following in Bernard’s footsteps. They are becoming some kind of super human freaks.”
“So you do believe they have special gifts.”
“I don’t believe it. I know it. The real question is; can they control themselves? Or are they going to become like Bernard and go around killing people?”
“You said grandpa’s death was an accident and he didn’t blame Bernard.”
“Accident or not, grandpa is dead. Immense power corrupts people. The way I have it figured the Delmons are no different than the rest of us. After all, as far as I can tell, they’re human just like us.”
“I would certainly like to think so.”
“That’s what worries me. It should worry you, too. The fact the Delmons are human, but have godly powers makes me nervous. Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.”
I looked at Cherrie in astonishment. She was smart, well read, but even for her, some of what she said was, for me, disturbing.
“Where do you get this stuff?”
“Lord Acton.”
“Not even going to ask you who he is. You’re scaring me.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“Accomplished? Accomplished what?”
“Keeping the naïve girl from the sticks of Minnesota safe.”
“Naïve? Sticks of Minnesota? That who you think I am?”
“Doesn’t matter who you are. Love clouds your judgment. It never hurts to err on the cautious side.”
“Never said I was in love with Aaron.”
“But you are attracted to him.”
“So?”
“You ever asked yourself, why?”
“Duh. He’s a demigod for one.”
“What? You think god means handsome?”
“In his case, yes.”
“Also means he possesses great strength and can accomplish super-human feats.”
“Not a bad combo if you ask me.”
“And you don’t think you’re naïve.”
“What?”
“History’s littered with bodies of men who possessed more power than they could control. What makes you think the Delmons are any different?”
“I don’t know about the other Delmons. I know Aaron isn’t like that.”
“You got part of it right. Gramp’s passing is a classic example of a man who didn’t have the ability to control h
is power. And look at the Hitlers, Stalins and Mussolinis and all those bad asses we read about in social sciences. Superiority breeds insensitivity.”
“Aaron’s not that way.”
“That way or not, there are consequences for actions no matter what their intent. From what your mom told me it sounds like Aaron’s stunt led to the bump on your head. What if what he did had gotten you killed? Then what? Forgive and forget, just because he didn’t mean to kill you?”
“He was protecting me, not trying to hurt me.”
“And what about the snowboarders? He could have hurt them.”
So Dierdra told you about the snowboarders going backwards.”
“Yes, she did.”
“You didn’t tell her, did you? I mean about Aaron’s powers?”
“We made a deal. You don’t tell anyone grandpa is dead I won’t say anything about Aaron and his mystical powers. Right?”
“Right.”
We saw Main Street parking jammed pack full.
Cherrie pulled the LC around the back side and parked on the side street.
We entered the Fifth Season from a door at the rear of the building.
Several lines of people stood at the rear counter, mostly students who went to my school and a few out-of-towners I didn’t recognize.
“You wait in line,” I told Cherrie. “I’m going to see if I can find Aaron.”
“Of course,” Cherrie said. “When you find him, ask him if he can ram us through. This line s...”
I didn’t hear Cherrie’s last word as it was drowned out by the excited chatter of the skiers making ready for the snow.
I wondered if I would find Aaron walking around touching people, soaking up what he would consider wasteful energy.
As I searched for Aaron, I found myself speculating if there was any truth to Cherrie’s thoughts of abuse of power. Wasn’t the act of touching someone and extracting something from them without their permission abuse of power? The thought gave me an ill feeling.
Would Aaron stop touching if I asked him? Could I ask him? Did I have the right? After all, at this point we were friends, nothing more. I had no hold on him, no say over him. Would I ever? And the real question burning a hole in me; did I even want to have a say? Or would that make me an accomplice and benefactor?
I wandered through the store. I didn’t find Aaron, but I did spot Carson Gruen. I saw him fitting a customer with a set of expensive mountain climbing boots.
Solstice - Of The Heart Page 15