Sanctity

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Sanctity Page 6

by S. M. Bowles


  “So what do you think so far?” My mother asked me.

  I could see that my father and Michael were also listening to hear my reply, “It’s wonderful! A million times better than any movie I have ever seen!” I said breathlessly.

  “I’m so glad you are enjoying it,” Michael bent his knee as he talked to me so that we were at eye level. “So who is your favorite character so far?”

  “Clara, of course!”

  “Would you like to meet her after the show?”

  “No, Mr. Donovan,” my mother started to protest.

  He stood and faced my parents, “It’s not often that I get to take advantage of the privileges they hand out to the supporting members of the Center. It’s just one of the benefits they give for buying the box for the season,” he assured them.

  My mother looked at me, turned to my father and helplessly back to Michael, “If you’re sure it won’t be too much trouble.”

  The lady was curious to know what we were all talking about and decided to join the group. “Hello Elayna, I’m Brenda. Michael didn’t have a chance to introduce us earlier but I have been anxious all night to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you Brenda,” I was reluctant to shake hands and thankfully my father saw this. He stepped up and made my excuse for me.

  “She’s a little nervous around new people.”

  “Yes, I see,” Brenda’s interest disintegrated and she carried herself away to Michael’s side. I watched as she took his arm in hers and felt another wave of disappointment sweep over me. “You look very dapper tonight, Michael, “she smoothed the wrinkles from his shoulders then fiddled with his tie. “Oh” she cooed, “what’s this?” She looked from him to me and back again, “Oh, how cute! You match.”

  I hadn’t noticed before but Brenda was right, Michael’s tie was the perfect shade to match my dress. For some reason this new knowledge caused me to flush with excitement. I was certain that Michael picked the tie particularly for me and it offered some reassurance that it was his intention to give me a special night.

  Brenda unfortunately discerned the little blush that burned my cheeks. It was very unsettling to have gotten caught and even more so when she pointed it out. “I think someone has a little crush developing over here,” she smiled down at me patronizingly. Her statement was loud enough that everyone in the box heard her and I was sure it was done with that purpose in mind. I was mortified and reached for my mother’s hand. She looked down at me with a touch of understanding and pity.

  “Let’s go freshen up, Elayna. Would you excuse us?”

  My father volunteered to come as well and Michael gave a little bow to my mother as she led me away. I refused to look at him though I knew he was trying to catch my eye.

  “Why did you do that?” He asked Brenda as we walked away. “You do realize how upsetting that must have been for her? She’s just a little girl, why would you humiliate her like that?” His voice was sharp and harsh but muffled enough not to draw any unnecessary attention.

  “Good grief, Michael, why are you so upset?”

  “These people are my guests and it is my intention to show them every kindness tonight, especially Elayna.”

  Brenda didn’t like the tone in his voice and vengefully tossed a reply, “Ah, so she is not the only one with an unnatural attachment I see.”

  I could feel Michael’s anger as my mom and I made our way to the restrooms. I concentrated very hard, determined to keep him out of my thoughts. Before we went in my mother stopped and turned to me. “It was very rude of Brenda to embarrass you like that. I’m sorry for it,” she took a deep breath. “Elayna, Mr. Donovan is a very handsome man and it is perfectly normal to think so. You are young now and may not understand it completely but I think any woman of any age would be hard pressed not to be attracted to him. You shouldn’t feel badly for appreciating beauty, no matter where you find it.”

  My mother’s understanding made me feel somewhat better but I was convinced that Brenda deliberately wanted to hurt my feelings. I couldn’t imagine facing Michael with her words ringing in my ears. I didn’t understand why Michael would be with someone like her. She was not at all deserving of someone as remarkable as he was. I sensed him trying to apologize to me, so I pushed my bitterness aside.

  I almost perceived a sigh of relief from Michael when I finally found the courage to answer his thoughts, “She’s not a very nice lady,” I tried not to sound angry, just disappointed.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t tell her you and your family would be here. It seemed appropriate that I have a date though; men do not often go to the ballet alone,” there was a touch of humor in his words. “You are very important to me and I wanted to do something special for you,” I knew he was being sincere and tried to be understanding.

  Then Michael started sharing some of his thoughts with me; how he knew I would enjoy the show and how he carefully planned the night for some time. Somehow he was making me aware that there was no way I could have been there without my parents. He made sure I understood that he had arranged to meet my father and convinced him to take the tickets, then sent the car – extra insurance that we would all come. He tried to think of everything that could have gone wrong and carefully constructed this to be a memorable night for me without giving our friendship away. And Brenda, she was just another part of the plan.

  As we left the restroom my dad gave my mother and I a little wave to get our attention. He was waiting to order drinks for each of us. We met him in line and he asked if either of us would like anything. There was not much to choose from so my mother and I each settled for a bottle of water. We collected our drinks and made our way back to Michael’s box.

  He was standing just outside talking in a hushed voice to Brenda. He nodded to us in a welcoming manner. My mother and father stood in the hallway reluctant to confine themselves to their seats just yet. When Michael stepped away from Brenda she came in and sat beside me. He joined my mother and father and began pointing out various aspects of the theater and started relaying some of its history as well.

  “Elayna, I wanted to apologize if I have hurt your feelings in anyway. I guess I have forgotten what it’s like to be your age and to feel the helpless pressure of a crush.”

  “I do not have a crush,” I said defensively.

  “Of course you don’t,” Brenda laughed. I didn’t like the expression she was wearing and wanted to stand up and join my parents but she began speaking again and somehow I felt obligated to listen, “You think you are in love and you think Michael is in love with you,” her voice sounded spiteful. “Michael is more than 3 times your age, if you think about it you will realize that that is not how love works. Michael doesn’t love you,” she paused in emphasis, “at least not the way you think you love him. You are just a little distraction for him at the moment. He will forget you soon enough,” she said with tremendous surety.

  “Michael doesn’t love you,” I knew there was more to what Brenda had said but only that part of the phrase registered and began repeating over and over again in my mind. The sense of wrongness I felt when I first saw Michael and Brenda together washed over me again. Suddenly I was not feeling very well. I stood up and tried to walk to where my mother and father were talking with Michael. The lights flashed signaling that the intermission was over and they each turned one by one and came back to the box to take their seats. As my mother approached I lunged for her and told her that I didn’t feel well and that I wanted to go home.

  I saw a fearful look gathering in her eyes as she studied me and placed her palm on my forehead. “You’re burning up. How long have you been feeling like this sweetie? Oh, my, I think we must go,” she looked to my father for confirmation. He placed his hand on my forehead and nodded his agreement, “Yes, yes, I’ll let Mr. Donovan know.”

  My father bent down and quietly told Michael that we needed to leave. He hastily ejected himself from his seat and found me and my mother standing in the hallway near the stairs. I
had my face turned away, unable to look at him just then. I didn’t realize it but my anguish had caused my mind to barricade itself and I had locked Michael out of my thoughts.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice was colored with heartfelt concern. He looked at my mother then to my father.

  “Elayna is not feeling well, I think she may have a fever,” my mother kissed the top of my head and apologized to Michael. “Would it be too much trouble to call the car for us? We have no way of getting in touch with the driver until the show is over.”

  “Yes, of course,” he slipped his cell phone from his coat pocket and made the request for our driver to return.

  “I’m sorry you are not feeling well Elayna,” Michael gently caressed my shoulder.

  “Elayna, please talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better. Please don’t go,” I could still hear his voice in my head though I refused to let him hear mine.

  I ignored his plea and waited with my mother while my father gathered our coats and other belongings. He helped me into mine first and then eased my mom into hers. Michael was dumbfounded and could only watch as we prepared to leave.

  My dad shook his hand and thanked him for everything. Brenda appeared in the doorway, “Are you leaving?”

  “Oh, yes, sorry, Elayna is not feeling well. It was lovely to meet you,” my father said.

  Michael turned to Brenda as though he had momentarily forgotten she was there. I saw a look of understanding cross his face as he puzzled out what must have driven our hurried departure.

  “We’ll walk you out,” he said. “There’s not much sense in staying for the show if you can’t be here to enjoy it with us.”

  Brenda was visibly dismayed by having the night conclude so abruptly. Michael did not look as though he could be dissuaded, though, and she held all of her protests.

  Michael snatched her jacket and tucked it around her shoulders. He slid into his as well and motioned us all toward the lobby. I could feel him calling to me, “Elayna?” Every few moments he would try again, “Elayna?” It hurt to ignore him but every time I heard him say my name it was echoed by Brenda’s voice telling me “He doesn’t love you,” and I drew further and further into myself.

  The driver was waiting for us and as he started to make his way around the car Michael signaled to him that he would get it and opened the passenger’s door for us. My mother helped me in and glided into the seat beside me. My father poured out his regrets one last time and thanked him again for all his thoughtfulness. Michael popped his head in and wished my mother a goodnight and said how much he hoped that I would feel better soon.

  He closed the door and the driver pulled away. I desperately wanted to look back but I knew Michael would be standing there watching until the car was no longer in view.

  Chapter 6

  “Elayna?” A few minutes ticked by, “Elayna?”

  It was a long ride home as disheartened as I was. I was mentally and physically exhausted but wide awake because I could not escape Michael’s pleas followed by the echo of Brenda’s declaration “He doesn’t love you.” By the time we pulled up to our building my head was pounding and I was too worn out to walk. My dad picked me up and I clung to his neck as he carried me inside.

  My mom helped me get ready for bed and gave me a dose of medicine. “This will help you rest and hopefully bring your fever down.” She brushed the hair back from my forehead and kissed me goodnight. My dad came and sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes. He didn't say anything, just gently stroked my cheek and before I knew it I started to relax and drift off.

  I could still hear Michael calling to me but it was not with the same intensity as before and he had changed his appeal from Elayna to a simple Please. He sounded so defeated that I nearly relented and answered him but the medicine must have been working because I couldn’t stop myself from falling fast asleep.

  I rested soundly for an hour or two before I started to dream and when I did I dreamt of Michael and Brenda. They seemed to be in an apartment in the city. I didn’t know if it was Michael’s or Brenda’s but I could tell it was in the city because there was a large window that provided an exceptional view of the lights. As the dream unraveled I realized that they were having an animated discussion about me.

  “I asked you to apologize to Elayna,” Michael seemed collected though there was an agitated quality to his voice.

  “I did apologize,” Brenda answered honestly but Michael sensed that she was withholding something and persisted in his questioning.

  “How, exactly, did you apologize, what did you say?”

  She seemed to be collecting her thoughts but she could tell that Michael was growing impatient. “Look Michael, I’m sorry about what I said to you, I know you were just trying to flatter the Davis’ by making an impression on their daughter. They are a novel little family and I can see that you are genuinely attached to each of them. I know there is nothing unnatural about your feelings for Elayna and I’m sorry I said as much. I didn't realize you were going to have guests and I was angry, maybe even a little jealous, of their claims on your attention tonight.”

  Michael was listening but that was not the explanation he was looking for. When he didn’t say anything she decided to continue her appeal.

  “You may not realize it but that little girl is quite captivated by you. She is young and innocent and you are going to break her heart when she realizes that you do not love her.”

  Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Is that what you did? Did you tell her that I didn’t love her?”

  “Michael, please, you sound ridiculous,” she chuckled nervously.

  “Did you? Did you tell Elayna that I do not love her?” His face lost all expression and Brenda couldn’t tell whether or not he was angry and wondered how much it was safe for her to confess.

  She took a deep breath, “I told her that she only thinks that she is in love with you; that you are 3 times her age and that if she thought about it she would understand that love does not work like that. I told her that you did not love her the way she thinks you do, that is all.”

  “Ah, that is all,” Michael looked to the floor and Brenda looked relieved. She appeared confident that Michael had accepted her explanation and was acknowledging the truth of what she had said.

  She took a step towards him, “I’m glad you understand. Elayna will be hurt for a day or two but she’ll bounce right back and forget you just as quickly as you’ll forget her.” Michael stood motionless absorbing her words. She smiled and was about to wrap a hug around him in a gesture of apology but as she raised her arms he suddenly came to life and violently grabbed her throat.

  I was trying to scream, or was it Brenda that was trying to scream. I couldn’t distinguish my dream from reality as I fought to wake myself up.

  The light flooded my room as my mom and dad charged in. “Elayna, are you alright? You were screaming sweetie.” My dad swept me into a tight hug. I was shaking and sobbing. I felt cold and damp and my nightgown was clinging to me. “Oh, goodness, she is burning up. Get the thermometer, honey.”

  My mother came back with it and checked first one ear and then the other. “101.8” she said, “100.9.” She left and quickly came back with another dose of medicine. I stifled my sobs and sipped it down. She helped me into a fresh pair of pajamas and tucked me back into bed.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” She always asked this when I had a bad dream. I was not willing to share this one though and shook my head no.

  My father came in with a glass of water. “Here, try and drink some.”

  I took a couple of sips and handed the glass back to him. They took turns tucking me in and saying another goodnight. My mom lingered on the edge of my bed until she felt that I was about to drift off again. I was still awake when she left though and as soon as she was gone I started to cry. They were quiet, private tears that I could not share with anyone else.

  There was something terr
ibly wrong, I felt empty; it felt like Michael had left me. I had not heard his attempts to reach me ever since I woke up and I just knew something horrible had happened. I felt remorseful, responsible as I lay awake with my silent tears and tried to reach out to him. I was sure he would not answer, though, especially since I was so adamant in my denials when he needed me.

  I must have cried myself back to sleep because when I woke again it was late Sunday morning. My first thought was for Michael; I strove to make my mind as open as possible but it proved quite useless and I couldn’t seem to find any sense of him.

  I felt somewhat better, no longer feverish but still a little achy. I climbed down from my bed and wandered into the kitchen. My mom was making coffee and stopped when she saw me. “How are you feeling, honey?”

  “Better,” I said. I didn’t say it with much enthusiasm but she credited my listlessness to the fever and the troubled sleep that I had had.

  “Do you feel hungry at all?”

  “A little,” I mumbled.

  I wasn’t very hungry at all but I knew that my mom would tell me that I should eat at least a little something. She made me a light breakfast of toast and juice along with a bit of fruit.

  “Can I watch TV?”

  “Sure,” she ruffled my hair and helped me arrange my breakfast on the coffee table. Usually she would tell me how long I could watch for but she was feeling generous knowing I was down and left me to myself.

  I watched one or two shows but I wasn’t really paying attention to either. My dad came and sat with me while I pushed the food around on my plate.

  “You should try and eat a little more, honey.”

 

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