I didn’t like the sound of “we” but I let Cindy lead me across the living room and down the hall. It was very slow going. In addition to my limp, I was still wrapped in the blanket from the Slayer house and I had to take care not to trip over the bit that was dragging on the floor. I could hear Alia’s footsteps following close behind.
We came to a stop. A door clicked open as Cindy said, “You are so unbelievably filthy I’m not even sure where to start.”
“I can wash myself, Cindy,” I informed her.
“Not today,” said Cindy.
“Cindy, please,” I begged.
But Cindy said firmly, “You’ll do as you’re told, Adrian.”
“You sound like Alia.”
“Actually, your sister just told me to say that to you,” said Cindy, chuckling.
“Figures,” I muttered.
“You wouldn’t argue if you could see how dirty you are.”
And if Cindy had ever been fourteen years old, she would’ve been more understanding.
Alia asked in a hopeful tone, “Can I help?”
“No!” I nearly shouted as Cindy led me into the bathroom – I could tell it was the bathroom because I could feel the cold tile floor under my bare feet.
After closing the door on my sister, Cindy unwrapped the blanket from around me, and then removed the cotton from my left calf. Even after Alia’s earlier work, the dressing was painfully stuck to the wound with fresh blood, and it took a while to pull it all off.
“You’re not just dirty, Adrian,” said Cindy. “You’re terribly infected. Alia was right. Your leg needs cleaning before she can finish healing it. A couple more days and you might have lost it.”
A couple more days and I would have been dead anyway.
“The Slayers already removed the bullet,” I said.
“They did?” Cindy asked in surprise.
“It’s a long story.”
“Well, thank God for small favors, anyway.”
“How bad is my leg?” I asked.
“The bone is probably chipped. This is your third gunshot wound, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
Cindy let out a long and deliberate sigh, saying resignedly, “Adrian Howell, human bullet magnet.”
As painful as my leg was, I couldn’t help but laugh a little at that.
“There won’t be a fourth,” I promised.
Cindy turned on the shower. I winced in pain as the lukewarm water touched the torn flesh.
“Sorry, Adrian, but this’ll hurt a bit,” said Cindy. “You have a lot of pus here.”
I gritted my teeth and managed to keep it to a quiet whimper as Cindy carefully washed my leg with water and disinfectant. Then, ignoring my protests, she temporarily let Alia in to finish healing the wound. The pain, along with much of the swelling, gradually receded. My calf was still sore enough to make me limp a little, but at least the worst of it was finally over.
Shooing Alia out of the bathroom again, Cindy helped me scrub the rest of my body clean. It took quite a long time, and I’m sure Cindy noticed that I had more than just blood and basement dust on me, but she didn’t comment.
After toweling me dry, Cindy handed me some clothes that were soft and thin like a pair of pajamas, which they probably were.
Seeing me struggling with my shirt, Cindy said kindly, “Let me help you.”
“I can dress myself, Cindy,” I insisted.
“If that were the case, Adrian, you wouldn’t have your arm through your pant leg.”
Once I was properly clothed, Cindy opened the bathroom door to my sister, who was still waiting outside.
“Here, Addy,” Alia said telepathically, “I was always hoping I could return this to you while you were still alive.”
I felt her hands place my amethyst pendant back around my neck. Actually, for all I could tell, it might have been her bloodstone, since they were the same size and shape, but I would have been happy for either.
“Now you look like Addy again,” Alia said happily.
“I’ll get dinner ready,” said Cindy. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Very,” I said, and my stomach emphasized the point by growling noisily.
Cindy laughed. “I better get going. Alia, make sure Addy doesn’t crash into any walls.”
I heard Cindy’s footsteps quickly retreat down the hall.
I had left Terry’s jo stick leaning against a wall somewhere and I couldn’t find it again, but I didn’t need a blind man’s cane in this house. Alia was only too happy to lead me.
“Where to?” she asked, holding my left hand.
“Where’s Terry?”
“I think she’s in the living room.”
“Take me to her, please.”
She did, keeping a gentle grip on my hand and carefully leading me to one of the long couches in the living room. Sitting down, I felt Alia curl up beside me, resting her back against my side.
When Cindy had dressed me back in the bathroom, I had feared that she might have reverted to her old ways and given me something girly to wear, but I didn’t hear Alia or Terry laugh, so I guessed I was alright.
“You actually look good, Adrian, now that you’re cleaned up,” said Terry’s voice across from me, “but I’m sure it’s just an illusion that we’ll get over soon.”
When I didn’t offer a nasty comeback, Terry asked, “What’s the matter, Half-head?”
I asked seriously, “Terry, what happened to Raven Three?”
Terry let out a little sigh and answered gravely, “I’m sure they’ll ask you the same thing at the debriefing tomorrow. You’re the only survivor.”
“They’re all dead?” I asked quietly.
“We called Raven Three right after the raid, and when we couldn’t get through, we sent a team back to investigate. They found everyone shot and you missing.”
“How did you guys know I was even alive, Terry? I could’ve been dead in the forest.”
“Your Mr. Barnum,” Terry replied simply. “He told us.”
“Then he’s alive?”
“Not anymore. The Slayers had shot him four times, twice at point-blank range. Slayers usually put extra bullets into psionics just to make sure they really die. By the time the scout team found Mr. Barnum, he couldn’t even speak, but a delver heard his last thoughts.”
It took a moment for that to sink in. Mr. Barnum was dead. As was Mr. Watson, and all the other Knights of Raven Three. I was the only survivor, thanks to Mr. Art Barnum, who had clung onto his life just long enough to set my rescue in motion. There was a wide range of emotions connected to that thought, and guilt was high among them.
Staring into the opaque light that my visual world had become, I could still hear Mr. Watson’s voice saying, “Oh, don’t you worry about Hansel. He’s Rabbit’s boy. He knows what he’s doing.” And Mr. Barnum, who had said to me in the motorhome, “I’m glad you’re staying behind, Hansel. I was feeling a bit lonely myself in this crowd.”
“Adrian,” said Terry, “you just have to–”
“Don’t tell me to get over it, Terry!” I snapped, getting to my feet.
I just wanted to be alone. If I could see, I would have been free to leave the living room and find some privacy, but instead I had to ask Alia, “Would you please take me to our room?”
“Sure,” said Alia. “Just hold my hand.”
As my sister guided me out of the living room, I heard Terry call, “It wasn’t your fault, Adrian.”
I ignored her.
Back in our bedroom, Alia instinctively took me across the room to our window where we often sat quietly together. I didn’t sit in the chair though.
“Alia, I’m never going to kick you out of this room again,” I said carefully, not wanting to hurt her feelings, “but I could really use a little time alone right now.”
“Are you alright, Addy?”
“Please just leave me alone for a while, Alia. Go help Cindy.”
“Okay,” Alia said uncertainly. I
heard her footsteps leave the room and the door clicked shut.
Mr. Barnum was dead because I had helped the Guardians pull him into the faction. He might even have been better off being captured by the Wolves.
I reached out and touched the cool glass window, picturing the cityscape I was so used to seeing from here. New Haven had become my home, and while it wasn’t always the safest or most peaceful place to live, nevertheless I had found my place here. Mr. Barnum had not.
I wondered what it was like to be dead. No pulse, no feeling, and eyes permanently shut. It must be like being blind and then some.
I heard the door open, and Cindy’s voice said softly, “Dinner’s ready. Terry and Alia are setting the table now.”
I didn’t answer, and a moment later Cindy asked, “You want to talk about it?”
“You’re not even angry, are you, Cindy?” I said, turning toward her voice. “After everything I did, you’re not even angry with me.”
Cindy replied peacefully, “I’m too happy to be angry, Adrian. I’m happy that you’re alive.”
That just made things worse for me.
I whispered, “I’m going to be blind for the rest of my life.”
“You don’t know that,” said Cindy, and I felt her hands grasp my shoulders.
“I’m really sorry, Cindy,” I said hoarsely. “I thought I was being grownup, but I was just being my usual stupid self, thinking that I could be a Knight... thinking I knew what that really meant... I was so stupid, Cindy. I had been stupid before, not listening to you, and I got stuffed in that research prison. And I still didn’t learn from it.”
“I think you’ve learned, Adrian,” Cindy said gently.
“Mr. Barnum was killed,” I said quietly.
“I know.”
“You know I risked my life to bring him to us?”
“Yes, Adrian, I know.”
“I stepped in front of his shotgun hoping he wouldn’t fire,” I mumbled, and when Cindy didn’t say anything, I said, “But you already knew that too, didn’t you?”
“Terry told Laila and Laila told her mother,” explained Cindy.
I smiled grimly. “I hardly knew him, Cindy. I don’t even know why I did that. Maybe Terry was right in that I wanted to play hero.”
Cindy squeezed my shoulders. “You didn’t want him to be hurt the way you were by Ralph. Thanks to you, Mr. Barnum at least had a few days of peace in his life before he died.”
“That’s almost funny, Cindy,” I said miserably. “If we had taken him by force, he wouldn’t have been so eager to join us, and then he’d still be alive today.”
“And then you wouldn’t, Adrian.”
I nodded silently.
Cindy whispered soothingly into my good ear, “Adrian, it’s just the way it happened. Terry’s right. It’s nobody’s fault. Certainly not yours. You had an emotional investment in this man, I know. You wanted him to live in peace. But it was his choice to join the Knights, Adrian. I know that’s hard to accept, but in the end it was just his choice.”
I asked, “Do you believe in an afterlife, Cindy?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.”
“Sometimes I wish there isn’t one,” I said, shaking my head. “I wish we just stop existing, so we don’t have to carry our pains and memories into eternity. But then I wish there is one. I wish Mr. Barnum is with his son now.”
“I think he’d be happy either way,” said Cindy.
“I hope he is,” I whispered, “because I don’t know if I’ll ever be happy again. Even if I get my sight back, it just won’t be the same. I’m not even sure I want to see anything anymore.”
“You’ll get better too, Adrian. I know that’s hard to believe right now, but you will feel better, and hopefully you’ll get your sight back too.”
I didn’t reply.
Suddenly Cindy gripped my hands and said fiercely, “Listen to me, Adrian! I am happy that you’re alive. Alia is happy that you’re alive. Terry is happy that you’re alive. I think you should be too. And if you believe that Mr. Barnum died so that you could live, then I think you owe it to him to live as happily as you can.”
I hated to admit it, but Cindy had a point. Mr. Barnum was a fireman. He had dedicated his life to saving people. When he knew his life was about to end, he had refused to die until he had saved one more. If there was an afterlife, someday I’d find him and thank him. For the time being, I would have to take Terry’s advice and just get over it.
I nodded slowly, and Cindy hugged me, saying, “You’ll feel better when your stomach is full. Come on. Dinner is getting cold.”
Cindy led me to the dining room and sat me down in my usual chair. As the delicious scents from the various dishes reached my nose, I discovered that, my grief over Mr. Barnum’s untimely death notwithstanding, I was as hungry as a grizzly bear in the springtime.
Terry and Alia had been away from New Haven for almost as long as I, and Cindy had pulled out all the stops in preparing our welcome-home feast. There was a little of everything: steak, fried chicken, corn soup, baked potatoes, pudding, ice cream, cake... it was impossible to tell all the different smells apart. With so many choices, I stuck mainly to the foods that I could eat with my hands. I would eventually have to learn how to use silverware, but, for now, nobody commented on my lack of table manners.
None of us spoke about Raven Three over dinner, or about anything that had happened since the raid on the Holy Land. I couldn’t see their faces, of course, but I sensed that everyone was just happy to be back together at last.
Terry helped Cindy clear the table after dinner, and I asked Alia to fill the bathtub up. Cindy had no doubt done a thorough job washing me with the shower, but I still felt like taking a good long soak. I hadn’t had a bath in weeks.
Once the large tub was nearly overflowing, I had Alia show me where the towels were and then told her to get out.
“Sure you don’t need any help, Addy?” she asked.
“Alia, I’m positive,” I told her firmly.
“Okay. Leave the door unlocked just in case.”
“I will.”
“And if you need any help–”
“I won’t.”
“–just call.”
Actually, I had no idea whether I would need help, but I was certain that I didn’t want any. When Alia got to be my age, she’d understand.
I carefully folded my clothes and placed them by the sink so that I’d be sure to find them again. Then, slipping into the tub, I groped around for the switch to the Jacuzzi and set it to medium. Resting my body in the warm, comfortably churning water with a full stomach and a quiet, contented spirit, I decided that while being blind was definitely going to take a lot of getting used to, there were still plenty of things worth living for.
Thank you, Mr. Barnum, I thought to myself as I lay in the tub. I am happy to be alive.
Once I was thoroughly soaked, I got up and groped my way to the towels, and then to my clothes. Dressing myself was still a challenge, and I had to re-button my pajama shirt twice. When I finally got it right, I felt so good about my accomplishment that I decided to try finding my way back to the living room on my own, but my plan was foiled by Alia, who had once again been waiting at the door. It was just as well because I needed her to find my toothbrush anyway.
“You have visitors, Addy,” said Alia as she led me back down the corridor.
The moment I entered the living room, a girl’s voice called, “Adrian!”
“Laila?” I asked.
I heard her footsteps approach as she said, “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“I’m sorry I missed Sunday,” I said, suddenly embarrassed at being seen like this. My hair was still dripping wet and I clearly wasn’t suitably dressed for visitors.
“Don’t be sorry,” said Laila. “I’m just happy you made it back.”
I remembered Alia had said “visitors” and strained my ears. Yes, someone else was breathing.
“Who’s there?”
I asked. “Who is it?”
Laila answered, “It’s Father Parnell, Adrian. He came just after me.”
“Hi,” said Mark’s hesitant voice from across the room. “How are you doing, Adrian?”
“Better, thanks,” I replied. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Well, after what you’ve been through, I wasn’t sure you’d want to–”
“To see a priest?” I asked. “Mark, the Slayers are hardly religious.”
Laila said, “See, Father, I told you he wouldn’t be upset!”
“Laila’s right,” I said. “You’re my friend.”
Mark said, “It’s really good to have you back, Adrian.”
I was pretty sure that Laila had mainly come to see Terry, and I learned that Mark had been making regular evening visits to keep Cindy company while Terry and Alia were out looking for me. Nevertheless, Laila and Mark both made a far bigger fuss over me than I wanted. Not that I didn’t appreciate their concern, but I had been hoping for a quieter evening, and I wasn’t sorry when they announced that they were going home.
“Will you still come to Sunday service with me sometime?” asked Laila at the door.
“Once I’m settled down, I’ll try,” I said. I didn’t want to bother thinking about something as trivial as that when my primary concern was still whether or not I would get my eyesight back.
Once Mark and Laila had gone, I spent what little was left of the evening sitting with Cindy, Terry and Alia in the living room. Alia was getting much too old for it, but she insisted on sitting in my lap, and I didn’t grumble too much.
Loosely holding my sister around her stomach and trying to keep her long hair from tickling my nose, I asked Terry to tell me what had happened at the Holy Land.
“We cleared the entire camp in less than ten minutes. No casualties in Ravens One and Two,” reported Terry. “Well, no deaths, anyway. One guy lost two fingers, but it was his own dumb fault.”
I didn’t particularly care to hear the explicit details of the battle. It was good enough to know that no other Guardians had died that night.
But I couldn’t help asking Terry, “How many Slayers did you kill?”
“Me personally or everyone?”
“You.”
“Seven or eight,” Terry replied lightly. “You know they had it coming, Adrian.”
Lesser Gods Page 18