by Elbel, Joy
“Well,” she paused briefly, “I can’t let you into his room but if you would like to see him through the window, I suppose that would be okay. But only for a minute, okay?”
Good enough. “Okay!” I echoed back to her. “Okay.”
As she led me through the winding hallway, I thought about another great paradox in life. I’d fought hard to hold on but I’d also fought every bit as hard to get to the point where I was ready to let go. Zach was basically on mental life support. I needed to pull the plug in my own mind and walk away without guilt. In my heart, I knew that I would never love anyone else the way I loved him. But maybe it was best that I didn’t. Our love was intense yet flawed from the very start. Maybe I would find someone someday who I could love in peace and comfort—not paradox and chaos.
I stayed calm until we reached the door to his room. When I spotted his weakened body sprawled across the bed, a lump formed in my throat. I wanted nothing more than to look into his beautiful eyes one last time and to tell him that I was sorry that it had to end this way. But he was on the other side of a thick wall that I would never be allowed to penetrate.
I pressed my hand to the glass and whispered, “I love you.”
A voice behind me replied, “I love you, too. Now give me the arrowhead.”
44. Lighter than a Feather
Silence. Hauntingly beautiful silence. At least in my head, anyway. I’d grown so used to the wailing of that voice inside my brain that I assumed I’d finally gone deaf from the internal cacophony. That in itself would have been a blessing. But that wasn’t what happened. I wasn’t only free from that hellish audio but from everything else as well. My thoughts were no longer a jumbled up mess; my body felt strong and free of pain. I lay there motionless, fearful that the slightest movement might bring it all back again.
That’s when I heard the sound that would make me move mountains. Sobbing. It came soft at first but grew heartbreakingly louder. I knew her voice even when she wasn’t actually saying a word. The girl crying somewhere just beyond my grasp was the real girl of my dreams—not that demonic imposter. Ruby was sad and I had to make her dark clouds go away.
Fearful that my own sanity was still in jeopardy, I cracked open one eye and searched until it found the stone. Where once lay a battle between the gray smoke and the blue flame, there was no trace of anything but smooth, flawless white marble. The nightmare was undoubtedly over.
I leapt from my bed to the door with my feet barely connecting with the tiled floor. I yanked on the door knob but it stayed firmly locked from the outside. The narrow hallway was jammed with both friends and strangers. I called out her name in desperation.
“Ruby!” I shouted, waiting mere seconds before crying out for her once more. “Ruby!”
I touched the glass lightly and tried to peer around the corner for a glimpse of her. Then, her fingertips appeared on the other side—perfectly in line with my own. I couldn’t see her face yet but I didn’t need to. We flattened our palms in one synchronized motion—our bodies weren’t touching but our souls were. I didn’t know where I’d been for the last few months—years?—but there was no question where I was now. Home. I was home.
45. Watershed
“Grandpa? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to end everyone’s suffering,” he replied with no emotion. “Give me the arrowhead.”
When I saw a look of panic roll into the nurse’s eyes, I quickly snatched the arrowhead out of her hand before she knew what was happening. She didn’t know what terrible powers it held. I was afraid she would hand it to him out of fear. I took his hand and led him out to the waiting room to talk him out of the stupid suicide mission he was on.
“Grandpa, I told you what this thing did to Zach. If you don’t believe me—if you think I’m the crazy one—go take a look at him for yourself. I can’t pass that kind of agony onto anyone else—especially not you.”
“My dear child, you are so much like your mother—stubborn and headstrong. But I know more about that arrowhead than you do. As a matter of fact, I’ve spent many years trying to find out if was actually real or only a legend. Fate has given me that answer in the strangest of ways. You do believe in fate, don’t you, Ruby?”
He knew very well that I did. Some of our phone conversations consisted of us talking about nothing but destiny. My once iron will to allow Zach to disintegrate was now as malleable as aluminum foil. I jammed the arrowhead into my pocket for safekeeping before hearing him out.
“There’s an old Cherokee tale that has been passed down for centuries—the legend of Lei-Ah-Hi. As the story goes, Lei-Ah-Hi was a beautiful young maiden and daughter of the village chief. Every brave in the tribe fought for her heart but she chose to give her love to Ga-Ve-Ha. Ga-Ve-Ha was an older warrior, terribly scarred from protecting the rest of the clan from intruders. His once perfect face bore claw marks from bears; his body was marked with the memory of countless arrows he took from his enemies. He lost the ability to speak when his vocal cords were slashed in battle. It was said that no one could look upon his face because of the depth of his deformities. No one, that is, except for Lei-Ah-Hi.”
“As a teenage girl fishing from the nearby river, she fell under the watchful eye of a hungry wolf. Lei-Ah-Hi would have been ripped to shreds had it not been for Ga-Ve-Ha. With no regard for his own life, he attacked the wolf. A great struggle ensued that might have ended his life had she not had enough compassion and courage to jump into the fray, piercing the wolf straight through the heart with the arrow that had been shot yet missed its mark.”
I listened intently to Grandpa’s story—all the while wondering how a love story like this one could have spawned such an evil curse. And what in the world would possess him to want to bring that kind of misfortune willingly upon himself.
“Ga-Ve-Ha, touched by the girl’s selfless act and unable to express gratitude verbally, pulled the arrow from the wolf and crudely tied up its tip into a necklace. It is said that they both fell deeply in love the moment he placed it around her neck. Lei-Ah-Hi ran immediately to her father and expressed her desire to be wedded to Ga-Ve-Ha. Although he was thought of as the beast of the village, the chief consented to her choice as he knew that she would always be well protected.”
“Before the ceremony could take place, the village was invaded by an enemy tribe. Ga-Ve-Ha—with his soon-to-be-bride’s approval—stormed off into battle. When the fight was over, all of the warriors returned except for one. Days, weeks, months passed by with no sign of Ga-Ve-Ha but Lei-Ah-Hi never lost hope. She spurned the advances of all other men in the tribe because she felt that her true love was not dead.”
“When the chief died, the village fell into chaos. Lei-Ah-Hi became a target and with no strong warrior around for protection, it was only a matter of time before tragedy would befall her. One day when she was out gathering herbs, a band of cocky young braves decided to have their way with her. She ran high into the hills hoping that they would tire of the chase. When she reached the top, they had her cornered. Her devotion to Ga-Ve-Ha—alive or in spirit—brought about her last desperate maneuver. She tossed herself over the cliff to her death.”
“Wow. That was a tragic love story. But I still don’t understand how the arrowhead became cursed. It was a symbol of her love for Ga-Ve-Ha—it should have transformed into something good not evil. And I’m still in the dark about why you would want it yourself.”
“The story doesn’t end there, Ruby,” he said, his tone one of sheer exhaustion. “You see, she didn’t die instantly. As she lay there broken and bleeding to death, a man approached her. Fearing that one of her attackers was about to take what she was willing to die to guard, she used her dying breath to set the curse into motion. With her last ounce of strength, she yanked the cord from around her neck and flung the arrowhead into his waiting hands.”
“‘Do what you will to me but you are forever cursed to walk this earth desiring a woman who will never let you touch her. It will
drive you mad. She will be everything you’ve ever wanted but you will never be able to have her.’ As she looked into the eyes of her target for the first and only time, what she saw were the eyes of Ga-Ve-Ha. His battle wounds had healed but his heart and mind were forever broken.”
At least some of the puzzle pieces were starting to fit together. I understood why the arrowhead had to be passed to an innocent man. I understood why Zach had not-so-slowly gone crazy. But what I still didn’t understand was why Grandpa wanted to take the curse from him.
“Okay, Grandpa, but why do you want it so bad? You know it exists and you know that the curse is real, too. I won’t give it to you. I’ve made up my mind that Lei-Ah-Hi will die along with Zach.”
“Ruby, I’ve been dying a slow death ever since my Ruby died. At first, that was the only reason that I wanted it—to end my loneliness. Then you came along and I started to rethink my plan. Then I realized that you and Zach had the kind of love that your grandmother and I had. The only reason he thought that you were the one haunting him was because his love for you was pure. Otherwise, he would have seen someone else’s face when he looked at his tormentor. But unlike me, you still had a lifetime of love to look forward to—all I had was memories. If I had the arrowhead, though, it would be like having her back if only for a moment. My health isn’t good, Ruby, and I probably don’t have much time left as it is. I drowned my sorrows in alcohol for years following her death—the doctors tell me that my liver is shutting down. Let me do this for you, for Zach, and for myself. After I’m gone, you can bury Lei-Ah-Hi with me once and for good.”
His tired eyes pleaded with me to let him live out his final moments with the woman he missed so desperately. Now I was faced with an even bigger ethical dilemma. I was going to lose both of them if I held onto the arrowhead myself but I didn’t want to feel responsible for helping Grandpa commit suicide. I needed time to think about it. Or so I thought. The next words he spoke to me changed my mind. Little did I know that they would be his last.
“I had given up searching for it and that’s when it found me. I think there’s a word for that but it escapes me.”
“Serendipity,” I whispered as I retrieved the arrowhead from my pocket and placed it into his hand.
The moment I released the curse, I could feel it. The hospital had suddenly turned into a chaotic scene from a movie. Dr. Landon arrived with Shelly and my dad in tow. The nurse must have called out the entire National Guard while my back was turned. Rachel, who had apparently stopped by Rosewood to see me, was with them as well.
Grandpa’s tired eyes began to sparkle as he said my name. But he wasn’t talking to me. He was talking to his Ruby. He was closer to death than he’d ever been but I’d never seen him look so alive.
“Ruby,” he said again with such love in his voice that I began to weep.
“Stay where you are, Grandpa—I’ll be right back.”
I rushed back into the hallway to Zach’s room to see what was happening beyond that glass. Everyone followed me. Everyone but Grandpa. And a split second after I saw Zach still lying there motionless, there came a sickening noise from the street outside. Then people began screaming for help. I knew what happened out there. I felt it in my heart, in my soul. Grandpa was dead and Zach was, well, still Zach—but not in a good way.
Sobbing, I regretted what I’d done. Lei-Ah-Hi was a trickster and she’d taken both victims not just the one. Three, actually, if you included me because I was never going to fully recover from this. Slumped against the door to Zach’s room, I began to cry even harder.
I would have stayed in that spot for eternity if Shelly hadn’t prodded me and begged me to look up. There on the glass I saw his fingertips. I reached up and placed mine directly over top of his. His face wasn’t visible yet but it didn’t need to be. At the same exact moment, we flattened our palms against the window. Serendipity led to synchronicity. Patience paid off and the paradox was gone. Relief set in because finally—finally—I was home.
46. Peace and Perigee
The following days and weeks were somewhat of a blur to me. I was the one who had to pick up the pieces of the mess the past year had been. Some of those pieces were good and I collected them willingly. Some were so ugly I could barely stand to look at them.
Dr. Landon was impressed yet baffled by Zach’s miraculous recovery but not enough that he was willing to release him immediately. I didn’t consider that a bad thing, though. There were a lot of other loose ends that I needed to tie up and it was easier for me knowing that Zach was safe while I was away. And I was away a lot.
First, there was Grandpa’s death to deal with. He’d already taken care of the legal end of it for me—a recently drawn up last will and testament was among the personal affects they handed me. While I was glad I didn’t have to hunt down that information myself, I was completely disturbed by what wasn’t found on his body.
The arrowhead was gone. Eye witness accounts yielded no clue to its whereabouts. According to everyone who was there at the time, Grandpa seemed to be disoriented when he darted off the sidewalk and into the path of a delivery truck. Dad said he died on impact and didn’t suffer. Good news, I guess, but I was more worried about finding the arrowhead. He died to end the curse—I didn’t want his death to be in vain.
I questioned all of the first responders but no one remembered seeing it. None of them seemed cursed themselves so I searched the street for it. I combed every inch of that intersection on multiple occasions—I even took a metal detector to the grass across the street. Nothing. My conclusion? The storm drain along the side of the road had to have carried Lei-Ah-Hi’s curse off to who knows where. It was gone and there was nothing more I could do.
I focused my energy on giving him a proper burial which meant I was New Orleans bound yet again. First came the funeral. I contacted the local parish church to make arrangements then flew down to meet with the pastor. Everyone kept asking if I wanted them to go with me. My response was always the same.
“I have wings now—I can fly alone.”
I said it because I did and I could. The whole experience taught me that I could handle anything life chose to throw at me from now on. And for a while, I got pelted with a lot.
The funeral was small with only a handful of mourners besides me. No one asked me who I was—they all told me who I must be. Apparently, I looked more like my mother with each passing day. Even I started to notice it. My hair continued to stay straight. The brown rim around the inside of my eyes faded over time until nothing but bright green remained. It was weird but a better version of weird than I was used to.
Elijah Redwaters was laid to rest in an above ground tomb at the Robicheaux Cemetery beside his beloved wife, Ruby. I only stayed in town long enough for the funeral and to arrange for his house to be put up for sale. Then, I was back on an airplane bound for Pittsburgh. And no, I no longer needed someone else to drive me to the airport and back. I had everything under control myself.
I was only on Pennsylvania soil long enough to get myself back to the Ohio border. From there, I went straight to Liberty Apartments and started to pack. The thought of living in that toxic space again was unbearable. There wasn’t enough sage in the world to smudge the negativity out of that apartment. I talked to the landlord about ending our lease early and ended up giving him an extra month’s rent to make it happen that day. The piece of mind I got when I walked away from that building for the last time was worth the few hundred dollars I paid for it.
My next stop was at Poe’s Corner. Addie replaced me long ago but left me on payroll so I had the option of coming back anytime I wanted. I never wanted to go back. Zach and I were starting over from scratch. Once he was released and ready to go back to college, we would find somewhere different. I thanked her for everything including taking in my orphaned felines while I was gone. Coco and Foxy both hissed at me as I placed them in their carriers but I didn’t take it personally. If I were them, I’d be hissing at me too.
Once I got back to Charlotte’s Grove, I took a few days to decompress before unpacking my own stuff and dropping Zach’s stuff off at his house. His behavior had been consistently normal ever since the curse was lifted and Dr. Landon was finally allowing him visitors. It was so weird walking into that room and listening to him talk like a sane person again. I wasn’t sure how much he remembered or whether or not I should mention the hell he’d been through. For the first few visits, we spoke only of things like the weather and of how much longer he thought it would be before he was released.
Gradually, he began to ask questions about the huge gaps in time from one memory to the next. I kept my answers brief and undetailed because I wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the whole truth. I knew for certain that I wasn’t anywhere close to wanting to tell him the truth.
Once I got the payout from Grandpa’s life insurance policy, I took care of the next thing on my to-do list and once it was ready I booked my next flight—this time to Philadelphia. I needed to visit Mom’s and Miranda’s graves. The night of Grandpa’s funeral I sat down at his tiny kitchen table and read the second letter my mother had written shortly before she died—the letter addressed to Miranda.
I hadn’t had the heart to open it knowing that it was not meant for me to read. But now that the caterpillar had finally transformed into the butterfly she’d always been destined to be, I had no qualms about opening it. It was one decision I would never regret.
In the letter, I learned one valuable lesson—no one can ever predict the future. Mom, who had been so good at prophecies, had totally missed the mark on two counts. First, she was incorrect in thinking that I was going to die at birth. Her second mistake was in believing that Miranda would not. She’d read the signals completely backwards.