by Amy Clapp
I smiled. I was getting closer.
We had just crossed the road towards home. We were both running as fast as we could up the driveway to the front steps of the porch. I was about to overtake him when Jamie tripped. He fell forward and the momentum of his body threw him headfirst into the brick steps leading up to the house. A sickening thud accompanied the sight of Jamie's head slamming into a brick step.
"Jamie!"
He groaned and slowly tried to sit, turning to face me. I helped him to a sitting position. When he finally sat up, I noticed he had some blood on his green shirt.
"I think you're bleeding," I said.
Jamie placed his hand on his forehead, groaning. "God. My head hurts."
I looked at Jamie's face. Gasping loudly, my hands flew over my mouth. I was horrified to see bright red blood oozing from underneath his hand and trickling down the side of his face.
"Jamie, you're bleeding badly," I whispered through the hands still covering my mouth.
Jamie looked at me, his eyes dazed and clouded. He slowly took his hand from his forehead. His palm was covered with blood. It flowed freely from the wound on Jamie's forehead down the side of his face nose.
A familiar voice filled my ears. "Jacey, you know what to do. Help him."
I listened to the voice, desperately trying to identify it.
"Help him," the voice ordered.
My mind instantly cleared and my purpose focused. I sprang to action to save my friend.
"Jamie, give me your bandana."
"Huh?" Jamie mumbled. His face was white and his eyes were still cloudy from the impact. The blood was freely flowing down his face.
Frowning, I grabbed Jamie's bandana from his head. I folded it quickly and placed it on the injury to his forehead, applying pressure.
"You know what to do, Jacey," the familiar voice said again. "Follow your instincts."
Breathing deeply, I applied more pressure to Jamie's injury. He groaned in response.
"Sorry," I whispered.
I pressed harder on the bandana. Blood soaked the bandana, covering my own hands. Pressing even harder, I closed my eyes. I concentrated, forming an image in my mind of Jamie's wound healing. I pressed harder and closed my eyes tighter.
"That's it, Jacey," the voice encouraged. "Just like that."
I began to feel a warm sensation at the center of my palms. The warmth grew to cover my entire hand down to my fingertips. The warm sensation intensified and I pictured Jamie's wound healing, the blood clotting and the skin coming together.
"Yes," the voice started in my ear. "Trust me."
I applied more pressure. The warmth intensified even more. I could feel the heat penetrate the bandana and flow into Jamie's forehead. As the heat intensified to a burn, my breath quickened. Suddenly, the burn sparked to sharp whiteness. I gasped at the burn, forcing my hands to stay put. Jamie moaned. And then the heat was gone.
I looked at Jamie. His eyes were beginning to clear. "Jacey?' he groaned.
"Jamie! Are you okay?"
"Yeah, what happened?" Jamie asked groggily.
I lifted the bandana revealing Jamie's smooth, unmarred forehead. There was no laceration, no flowing blood, just smooth skin. The only evidence that Jamie had an injury was the blood on his bandana, his shirt and my hands.
"Well, it's kind of hard to explain," I mumbled as I felt my head begin to throb.
The familiar voice in my ear said, "Well done, Jacey. Well done."
-Seven-
As soon as I heard that rich deep voice, I knew it was him. I desperately wanted to look around to see if he was near. He had to be. I had heard his voice loud and clear in my ears. He had helped me save my friend. I wanted to ask him so many questions. What could I do? How did I get these powers? What was my purpose? And how did he fit into this part of my life? So many questions that only he could answer. He. Him. Would I ever learn his name?
Jamie groaned, bringing my attention back to him. He was staring at his blood stained hands, a look of disbelief filling his face. Yes. All those questions had to wait. My friend needed me right now.
I knelt beside Jamie as he sat on the bottom brick step. He was still staring at his bloodied hands when I softly placed my equally bloodied hands in his. Jamie looked up, his eyes filled with confusion. "What happened?"
"I don't really know," I answered softly, tears starting to fill my eyes. I grabbed hold of Jamie's hands in both of mine. I felt as though I was holding on to him so he would keep me grounded, keep me here, right now. I guess I needed him as much as he needed me. Fear gripped at the corners of my heart as I stared into Jamie's confused eyes. My vision blurred as the tears welled in my eyes. I was afraid that Jamie wouldn't believe me. I was afraid that he would fear me and my strange powers. I was afraid that Jamie, my friend, wouldn't want to be that anymore.
Jamie stared back at me, obviously waiting for an explanation.
"I don't know Jamie," I mumbled quietly. "It's a long story, most of which I really don't believe myself." I searched his face desperately.
Jamie gripped my hands in return. He squeezed gently and his eyes softened. "Jacey, you saved me. I don't know what you did or how you did it, but you saved me. Thank you." His voice was thick with emotion.
As Jamie thanked me, I let the tears fall freely. So too did I let fall the fear that was trapping my heart in a vise. Jamie brought my hands to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my right hand. "Thank you," he whispered. He placed another kiss on my left hand. "Thank you," he whispered again, looking deep into my eyes. He let go of my hands and wiped the tears away. He hesitated momentarily before he placed both of his hands on either side of my face, cradling it. I rested my hands on his forearms. Not to stop him, but rather to hang on to him, to keep the feeling that he was holding me right now. He leaned in closer to my face, he whispered, "Thank you," and placed his lips on my forehead.
I closed my eyes, allowing myself to respond to his lips touching me. The tears stopped and the fear subsided. The kiss to my forehead felt warm and caring. When he pulled away, I felt a pang of disappointment. My heart lurched and my stomach tightened. My eyes opened, staring back into Jamie's smoky blue-grey eyes. As Jamie dropped his hands from my face, I realized the disappointment I felt was because I wanted more. Jamie's lips on my forehead felt so warm, so right, that I realized I wanted to feel that on my lips too. My cheeks began to burn with embarrassment and sheepishly, I looked down at my bloodied hands, clutching them together in my lap.
Jamie responded quickly to my action. He placed his knuckle under my chin, pushing my face to meet his again. "Don't you dare be embarrassed by your talents, Jacey Brindle. You are an extraordinary person." There was a sternness to the set of his jaw showing that he was serious about his statement, but his eyes were still soft with care and adoration.
My throat tightened again with emotion. I closed my eyes to fight back more tears. Jamie noticed my embarrassment but had mistaken what caused it. My pink cheeks were not from the feelings associated with my newfound powers. Relief flooded through my veins that Jamie wouldn't know what really had caused my discomfort. Taking a deep breath, I reopened my eyes. They were met by Jamie's smoky eyes again.
"Ya know, McMann, you really do have beautiful eyes." My lips broke into a lopsided smile.
"Really? I was wondering if this green would bring out their color." Jamie pulled out his t-shirt from his body to signify he was referring to the hideous, bright green of his running shirt. His face broke into a wide grin and he laughed loudly. I laughed timidly in response. We had managed to break the seriousness of the moment together. However, I was still feeling too emotional and my head hurt too badly to offer any more laughter than I did. I felt grateful for the Jamie I knew and loved. And for the first time, was rather grateful for my newfound talents, as Jamie called them.
"Hey, don't you owe me something?" I teased. My voice wavered still with emotion.
Jamie stopped laughing to respond. "What? I a
lready said thank you." His voice sounded surprised but he was grinning.
"Didn't you say you were going to buy me something after the run?"
Jamie's eyebrows crinkled together as he searched his memory. "Oh yeah," he said when he had remembered. "You hungry for one of Jameson's gooey homemade cinnamon rolls?" Jamie raised his eyebrows suggestively.
"Well, yes." I really wanted to lighten the mood surrounding us, so I was anxious to go eat the yummy rolls. I recalled the sweet, yeasty scent of Jameson's homemade cinnamon rolls from earlier this morning. My stomach growled.
"I guess so," Jamie said, glancing down at my stomach.
"But what about your head? Don't you think we ought to have it looked at?"
"What this hard thing?" Jamie hit his forehead with his hand. "It's fine." Pursing my lips together, I frowned in disapproval. "Really? It's fine. Remember? You fixed me." I still wasn't convinced. The injury was serious. There was so much blood. "Okay, okay," Jamie responded, laughing lightly and placing his hands out in front of him defensively. "I'll go get it checked out after we eat." The corners of my frown slowly turned up. "But can we do something first?"
"What now?" I whined. My stomach protested again, but a smile still played on my lips.
Jamie raised both his hands, his palms facing me. "Can we clean up a bit first? I don't think old man Jameson or his customers would care to see this." Jamie shook his hands back and forth for emphasis. I raised my own hands in front of me. Jamie's blood still covered them. What was once bright red, warm, sticky blood had dried, leaving red brown stain that tightened the skin of my hands. I didn't respond to Jamie. I couldn't. I was overcome with emotion again as I stared at my hands. The sight of his dried blood on my hands was a strong reminder of the seriousness of the injury Jamie had sustained. Without my powers, Jamie would have suffered a deep laceration requiring stitches, heavy blood loss, and a serious, maybe even life threatening concussion or head trauma. All the blood on my hands, Jamie's hands, and on his shirt and bandana was evidence to support that. But for my powers, I might not be talking and joking with Jamie at this moment.
I stared at my hands again with a new feeling of awe and wonder. My hands. What powers were contained in these two rather small hands? I flipped them back and forth, examining them. Other than Jamie's blood, they didn't look unusual or special. In fact, they looked the same as they did yesterday, last week, even a year ago. They were just ordinary hands. However, the powers contained in these hands, my hands, were anything but ordinary.
"Jacey?" I heard Jamie ask. "Can we?" He was still shaking his hands back and forth in front of me.
"Yeah."
Jamie carefully stood up, testing to make sure his balance hadn't been affected by his fall. He reached his left hand out toward me, palm up, offering for me to stand with him. Although I was sure I didn't need help to stand, I placed my hand in his anyways and he gently pulled me to a standing position. Once standing, I didn't let go of his hand. Jamie looked at our hands still intertwined. He looked up and smiled. In fact, he appeared to be beaming. My guess was that Jamie was very pleased that I continued to hold his hand. We were still holding hands as we entered the quiet house.
Oma was still sleeping. The only sounds were the grandfather clock clicking and the occasional hiss made by the coffee pot when steam managed to escape.
We walked to the little half bath off the kitchen. The bathroom was just large enough for us to both be in there at the same time and I reluctantly let go of Jamie's hand so he could clean up first. He used lots of soap and washed his hands briskly, scrubbing up to his elbows. After he had finished and dried his hands, he stepped away from the small pedestal sink, allowing me full access to wash.
I stepped up to the sink, turning the faucet to warm water. I placed my hands into the warm running water. The dried blood on my hands softened and began to wash away. The blood, Jamie's blood, swirled in the bottom of the sink before becoming trapped by the drain. I used lots of soap, scrubbing my hands and lower arms roughly until the soap turned pink with Jamie's blood. I turned the faucet to hot and rinsed my hands in the scalding water. Steam began to rise from the hot water, fogging the little oval mirror over the sink.
"Jacey," Jamie said, "I think you have the water hot enough. I'm pretty sure all the blood is gone."
"Oh, yeah, I guess you're right," I mumbled, shutting off the water. My hands were bright red from the hot water. I was surprised that I hadn't really felt it. After the heat associated with my power, the hot water only felt lukewarm.
"Ready?" Jamie asked.
"Yes." I reached for Jamie's hand with my own. I was confused by my strong need to touch him. I didn't want to let him go. Maybe it was because I had almost lost him moments ago. Or maybe it was something else entirely. All I knew was I needed to touch him. Jamie was willing to oblige, eagerly accepting my hand, lacing his fingers between mine. We walked quietly through the house and out the front door, still hand in hand. When we got to Jamie's Jeep, he stopped. Turning to face me, Jamie said, "I hope you don't mind, but I'm driving to Jamieson's. I know it's only a short way, but I've had enough walking and running for one day."
I nodded in response. Jamie opened the passenger door and waited for me to climb in. He closed the door behind me after I was seated. As Jamie walked around the vehicle, I pulled down the passenger visor and stared at the reflection in the little vanity mirror. I looked like the same girl that had stared back earlier this morning. The same mousy brown hair. The same freckles and square nose. But, I wasn't the same. An incredible, impossible thing had taken place only moments ago and I had done it. Ordinary, unspecial me.
Jamie's Jeep growled as he backed out of the driveway. I snapped the visor shut and stared out the front window. Jamie had his hand loosely on the stick shift between us. I glanced absently at it and placed my hand over top of his. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jamie smile again, but he never took his eyes off the road.
We rode the short distance to Jameson's in silence. The little town of Byron was busier now. Families were driving to church or Sunday breakfast. A few individuals were out walking their dogs. The sun was higher in the clear blue sky, the temperature rising. I had a feeling it was going to be warm again.
We pulled in behind Jameson's to park in the back lot behind the family-owned restaurant. As soon as I stepped out, I could smell the warm, sweet aroma of Jameson's cinnamon rolls. My mouth watered and my stomach growled again.
The little restaurant was packed inside, full of people enjoying Sunday breakfast. Enticing smells of fried bacon and blueberry pancakes mixed with the cinnamon of the fresh baked rolls wafting through the restaurant. We walked in and weaved through the tables that were placed too close together to get to the bar at the back. The bar reminded me of an old fashioned diner, the kind with a tall counter and stainless steel stools that swiveled. We found two empty seats at the far end next to the swinging doors leading to the kitchen. We didn't need a menu. We both knew what we wanted. But as a waitress walked past carrying plates of eggs and sausage with thick pieces of homemade bread, I wondered.
"What can I get for you, honey?" the waitress behind the counter asked, popping her gum. She took a wet rag and quickly washed the counter in front of us.
"Two warm cinnamon rolls with two large coffees to go," Jamie answered without hesitation. The waitress nodded curtly and turned towards the kitchen.
"To go?"
He nodded. "It's too loud in here to talk." It was loud. The patterned carpet on the flood did nothing to muffle the boisterous chatter of the Sunday morning crowd. And Jamie wanted to talk. I was hoping that Jamie wouldn't require an explanation for what had happened. He hadn't pressed earlier when I told him it was a long story. I sighed.
The waitress returned too quickly with the two large rolls in plastic containers. She sat them in front of us and turned to retrieve two large Styrofoam cups to fill with coffee. Over her shoulder, the waitress called out to us, "Decaf or regular, sugar an
d cream?"
"Regular," Jamie answered. "Do you want any cream or sugar?" Jamie asked, turning towards me.
"No, just black is fine," I answered quietly. I was suddenly not very hungry.
The waitress placed the cups in front of us. As she was pressing the lids into place, she said," That will be $8.48." She continued popping her gum.
Standing, Jamie placed a ten dollar bill on the counter. "Thanks. Keep the change."
The waitress smiled, placing the bill in the pocket of her green smock. We grabbed our rolls and cups of hot coffee and turned to begin the trek through the tables to the door. As we weaved through the tables, being careful not to bump anyone, a woman called out, "Yoo hoo, Jacey."
I looked up and two tables to the left of us sat Mrs. Tender and her family enjoying Sunday breakfast. She was waving frantically trying to get my attention.
Groaning quietly I answered, "Good morning, Mrs. Tender, Evie," I added with a curt nod of my head toward Evie. Evie rolled her eyes and went back to her plate of French toast.
"Is your grandmother going to be at church this morning?" Mrs. Tender asked in an attempt to make small talk.
"Yes, I assume so," I answered. "I'm on my way home now." I looked at Jamie, trying to give him a silent message to start moving towards the door again.
"And who is this?" Mrs. Tender called out in her high pitched whine. She nodded towards Jamie.
"Oh, this is my friend, Jamie McMann," I answered warily.
Jamie balanced his coffee and his roll in one hand and with the other extended towards Mrs. Tender to shake her hand. "Good morning, Ma'am, Sir," he added, shaking Mr. Tender's hand vigorously.
"Jamie McMann," Mrs. Tender repeated slowly. "You don't go to Byron High with Jacey and my Evie, do you?" It was more of a statement then a question.
"No Ma'am. I go to Countryside," Jamie answered.
"Hmmmm. Out enjoying another run, Jacey?" Mrs. Tender asked, shifting her gaze back and forth between us.