Echoes of You
Page 1
ECHOES OF YOU
Copyright © 2020 Margaret McHeyzer
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-6483670-7-9 (ePub)
ISBN: 978-0-6483670-8-6 (Paperback)
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be stored or reproduced by any process without prior written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.
Cover Design: Book Cover by Design
Editor: Debi Orton
Interior Formatting by Tami Norman, Integrity Formatting
email: hit_149@yahoo.com
Prologue
Part One ~ Past
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Part Two ~ Present
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Preview: Ugly
Preview: Addiction
Also by Margaret McHeyzer
The palms of my hands are sweating.
Standing in front of an unassuming building, I look up to see its sheer size. Still, it’s inconspicuous because it looks exactly like all the other buildings surrounding it.
The sun breaks out just behind the brick building, casting the entrance into shadow.
Funny, that. Because I’ve been living in the shadows all my life. Now is the time for me to come out of the shadows, and speak my truth.
Speak our truth.
There’s a line of cars in front of the building, all marked with the same lettering.
My heart beats quickly as a shock of finality runs through my veins.
This is where part of me will die and another part of me will live.
All my life I’ve been worried about what people think of me. But I can’t continue on in a life where I’m only breathing. I need to learn to live.
I take several deep breaths, ready to cross the street and take the leap I’ve been longing for.
“You can do this,” I say to myself. The sun is moving higher, the shadow becoming smaller.
Yes, you can.
I look to my left, and to my right, checking for oncoming cars.
I keep walking, crossing the street. I know if I stop for even a second, I’ll talk myself out of going.
You can do it.
I walk until I come to the automated doors that slowly slide open.
Hopefully, they’ll believe you.
I head to the counter, where a woman with dark hair pulled back in a severe ponytail and wearing a uniform is working on a computer. She looks up, but remains seated. “Can I help you?” she says in a flat voice.
My hands tremble, so I knit them together to stop the emotion bursting to come forward.
“I, um,” my voice quivers with uncertainty.
“Are you okay?” She stands and comes closer to the counter. She looks behind me, searching for a hint as to why I’m so edgy.
“I, um, need to talk to the police unit that deals with sexual abuse.”
“Thank God it’s finally over,” I say to AJ, who’s lying on his bed.
“School’s not that bad,” he replies.
“For you it’s fine. For me, it’s only ever been…” I look away, hoping he doesn’t see how I’m really feeling. “…hard,” I finally say.
“School’s fun.” AJ sits up on his bed, and flexes his arms, checking the mirror to admire how he looks. He stands, walks over to his dumbbells, and starts pumping them.
“Don’t you ever get sick of working out?”
He looks down at his body, and gives me a cheeky smile. “Not when the end result is me being so strong and so hot.”
“Ugh, how can we be friends when you’re so full of yourself?”
“We’re friends, because I’m full of myself.” Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “What are you going to do now you’ve finished school. College? Work?”
“I have no idea. I suppose I’ll just hang back, and you know, do nothing.”
“Great aspirations.”
AJ huffs. He places the dumbbells down, then drops to the ground, doing pushups effortlessly. “You know, you’re gorgeous. Why don’t you try modeling?”
“Modeling? Really? When have you ever known me to want to be a model?”
“What about an actress?” I shake my head at his ridiculous suggestions. “A politician?” I curl my top lip, questioning his bizarre work suggestions. “Astronaut, professional wedding guest. You know, I once watched a thing on YouTube about a guy who was an earwax cleaner. They had this little hook, and they’d get the wax out of…”
“Stop!” I say before he finishes the sentence. “I don’t want to hear anymore.”
“Suit yourself.” He keeps doing his pushups. “What about a pimple popper?”
“Really? Are you trying to gross me out?”
“I’m giving you career options.”
“And pimple popper is a career?” I question with lifted brows.
“Thirty,” he says as he springs up to his feet. “People make an absolute fortune from popping pimples on social media. Truthfully though, I’ve never really been into social media.” He walks over to a bar above his door frame, and starts doing pullups. “One, two, three,” he continues.
“But you’ve watched things on ear wax cleaners? Yeah sure.”
AJ laughs. “You gotta figure out what you’re going to do.”
“We both know that’s impossible. Until M can deal with the demons, I can’t do anything.”
AJ slows his pullups, and hops to the ground. He runs his hands through his hair, then steps back, leaning against the door jamb. “M has a long way to go.” He lets out a long breath.
“Do you think M will find peace?”
AJ sighs again. This time his mood is darker, more tortured. He looks away from me. “I um, don’t ever want to go through that again.”
A knot forms in my stomach. I know the pain he’s gone through. And still, to this day, he struggles with the horrors he’s had to face. We all have. All for M. What I went through was bad, but what AJ had to do…no one should have to endure that.
The room is heavy with sadness. AJ is wrestling with his own demons, his own memories.
“What about a bee keeper?” I say, trying to break the massive weight that’s crushing both of us.
AJ’s staring at something invisible. It’s what he does when his pain gets bad. He’s fixated on one point, not hearing me.
“AJ,” I say a little louder, trying to sna
p him out of his misery.
“Yeah?” He flicks his glance to me, and I see the bitterness. He moves forward, picks up his dumbbells again, and starts working his arms. “What did you say?”
He’s completely distracted now. But I can see if he doesn’t distract himself, the pain will eat him alive. “I said, maybe I can be a beekeeper.”
A small smile tugs on one side of his mouth. “Beekeeper? I like my idea for a professional ear wax cleaner better.” His muscles flex beneath his white t-shirt. Sweat beads on his forehead as he pushes himself.
“Maybe I should try to get in shape.”
“Nah, you don’t need to. I’ll protect you,” he says as he keeps the repetitions up.
“It’s not about protecting, AJ. It’s about being healthier.”
AJ smiles. “You’re fine the way you are.” I look down at my too-skinny legs. “I know what you’re doing,” he says.
“What’s that, Mr. Smart-Ass?”
“You’re looking at yourself, and telling yourself you’re too skinny. Right?”
Damn him. “No,” I snap.
“Aha! I don’t believe you.” He places the dumbbells down, and comes over to me. “Come here.” He crooks his finger for me to walk toward him. His hands are big and rough, with cracked skin around the knuckles. They can be frightening. Yet I know he’d never hurt anyone. Not without cause.
“What?” I say as I stand close to him. He has a distinct smell. One that always puts my mind at ease when I’m stressing. It’s a mix between sunshine, and sweat. Not that repulsive sweat that makes you hold your nose, more the sweat that’s bordering on ash from a fire, but with a twist of warmth from the sun. I love his smell. He always makes me feel safe, like it doesn’t matter what’s going through my mind, he’ll be there to protect me.
He places his hand over my heart, his eyes locked with mine. “This is beautiful,” he says with a gentle tone. “And because this is beautiful, this is beautiful too.” He moves to place his palms to my temples. “And if these are beautiful, you’re beautiful.” He leans in and gives me a tender kiss on the forehead.
“I have ugly hair,” I say trying to fight him.
“It’s luscious, dark, and long. I wish you’d wear it down more often.” He smiles.
“My legs are too skinny, my body’s too long, and my face looks like a fairy’s.”
Stepping back, he shakes his head before he bends to pick up the dumbbells again. “Nope,” is all he says. I wait for more. But I don’t get anything else.
“Well then, I’ve got a joke for you,” I say, not really knowing where to go from here.
“Yeah? What is it?”
“What’s the best thing about Switzerland?” I ask.
“What?”
“Don’t know. But the flag is a big plus.” I giggle at the stupid joke, and AJ raises his brows while he continues working is arms. “Oh, come on, that was funny.”
“For who?”
I roll my eyes. “Alright then, what about this one? Did you hear about the claustrophobic astronaut?”
“You’re killing me, Kate. Don’t tell me, he needed a bit of space?”
“Oh, no fair! You already knew that one.” I sulk, and AJ smiles cheekily. “Hang on,” I say thinking about his response. “Why did you say he and not she?”
“Huh?” AJ looks over to me, confused. “What?”
“You said he needed a bit of space, why didn’t you say she needed a bit of space? Are astronauts all male? Or are you sexist?”
“What?” He looks over to me again. This time, his mouth is screwed up and his eyes narrow in question. “When have you ever known me to be sexist? And, I don’t know why I said he and not she. It’s just…I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“So you think only men can go to space?”
“Really, Kate? Really? Anyone can go to space. You just have to be fit and smart.”
“That means you’ll never get there,” I tease.
AJ stops his arm reps, and turns his head. His mouth is open with shock. “Now I’m hurt,” he says. But the corners of his lips quickly twitch with a smile.
Suddenly, he stops. He straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest. He glances sideways, and arches a brow. The palms of my hands become clammy, as I watch AJ go from fun-loving to rigid with dread anticipation. “Hey, want to play a game of Tic-Tac-Toe?”
AJ doesn’t acknowledge me. As he moves closer to the door, he clenches his hands into tight fists. I can see his knuckles turning white from where I am. “You have to leave,” he says, his voice low but firm.
A lump sits in my throat. I can’t leave, not now. I have to be here for AJ. “I was thinking we could put a movie on. What do you want to watch? Your choice. Anything. I’ll even watch one of those stupid action movies you love so much.”
AJ’s eyes close, as he hangs his head down low. His lips draw into a pursed thin line. He shakes his head. I’m not sure what he’s saying ‘no’ to. “You have to leave.”
I breathe quickly through my mouth. My insides are going crazy. My stomach is knotting as my blood cools. I know what AJ is going to have to do. “AJ,” I say as I stand.
“Go away!” he shouts at me.
“AJ,” I say again in a softer voice.
AJ walks over to his cupboard, opens it, and slides out a box with an overstuffed bunny rabbit. When I first saw the bunny, it was pristine white. It’s been through a lot, and now has a gray tinge to it. He holds the bunny by the paw, the bunny stares at me. “Kate, you have to go,” he says again, this time in a low, pained voice.
“Let me stay and help you.”
He shakes his head, and wipes at his eyes with his free hand. “Kate, get out. Get out before I throw you out. I don’t want to, but I will if you force me.” He stands, fixed to the one spot. His head drops as he holds the bunny.
“AJ. Please…” I can tell how much this is hurting him.
He throws the bunny on the bed, stomps over to me, grabs me by the shoulders and lifts me off the ground. I should be scared of him, but I’m not. I know his mind and body is screaming with pain. He doesn’t want to do this, but there’s no other way. “Get out,” he yells in my face. His mouth is scrunched, but his eyes tell a story of fear and agony. He shoves me, and I fall back against the wall. He takes a step closer to me, but stops and backs up. Tears well in his eyes. “Just go,” he says as he holds back a strangled cry. I don’t see AJ cry often, but when he does, it breaks my heart.
I pick myself up, and move closer to him, wanting to console him, ease the pain he must be feeling. But AJ backs away from me, his hands up in a position of surrender. He turns, grabs the bunny up off the bed, straightens his shoulders and marches toward his door. He leaves the room, slamming the door shut so hard, it rattles.
My soul grieves, knowing what AJ has to do.
I fall to the floor, curl into a ball, and weep.
Walking back to my room, my head is swimming. Back in my room, I open the cupboard, take the box out, and shove that stupid bunny in it. I thrust the box back in the cupboard and slam the door.
I plunge face down onto the bed, and let out the tears that I’ve been holding in. I don’t cry in front of the others, I can’t. If they see me falling apart, then they’ll know I’m not strong. And if they think I’m not strong, they won’t be strong either.
My throat is tight, and my stomach is gurgling. Not from hunger, but from sadness and rage.
I hate being the enforcer. Really hate it. There’s nothing admirable or strong about being the enforcer.
It takes me a long time to calm down, maybe an hour, maybe even a day. I don’t know, but I eventually stop feeling sick, and stop crying. This is what happens every time I have to take that damn bunny out of the box. I hate this part of my job.
Turning my head, I see my dumbbells laying on the floor. I push off the bed, grab my dumbbells and start pumping my arms. I push hard. I keep going until my arms burn. The fire coming from my muscles di
stracts from the agony I feel in my heart.
I keep flexing my arms; I have to. I have to hurt myself to atone for my role in this. I can’t not hurt myself. I deserve to be in pain. I deserve the misery for what I do.
My arms are weak, like I am. Although they struggle to keep lifting. I have to do this. The sweat rolling down my back only reminds me to push harder. My hands clenched around the dumbbells are becoming slippery from the sweat gathering. I know I’m about to drop the dumbbell out of my right hand. I don’t care. It can fall on my foot. Hopefully it’ll break the bones. I deserve to be handicapped. I deserve the wrath of Satan to come down on me, to exile me to Hell. I deserve this, and more.
The dumbbell slips out of my right hand and falls. I don’t even try to move my foot. But the dumbbell doesn’t fall on my foot. It lands with a deafening thud and bounces once before it stops. “Why?!” I scream. “Why couldn’t you hurt me? I deserve it!” I yell at the stupid dumbbell.
Bending to pick it up, I sink to the floor, just staring at the stupid weight. What good is being muscle-bound, if I can’t use it to protect the ones I love?
I let out a deep breath, and try to push it to the back of my mind. I have to be strong, especially for the others. They need to see me strong, so they know that they’ll be okay.
“AJ,” I hear Kate’s sweet voice calling me. Closing my eyes, I take a few seconds to regain myself, get back the control I’ve lost. “AJ,” she says again, this time in a softer tone. I feel her beside me, feel her warmth desperately attempting to reach me.
“I’m okay,” I say.
“You sure?” I open my eyes, and turn my head to look at her. It takes all my strength, but I muster a small smile for her. Kate lets out a sigh the moment she sees me smiling. She leans her head against mine, and closes her eyes. “I was scared,” she says.
“I’m sorry for being angry at you.” I wrap my arms around her and draw her in close. I need her. I need to feed on her positivity. I need it so bad. “I’m really sorry,” I say again, leaning in to give her a kiss on her forehead.
“You didn’t mean it.” She’s letting me off too easily. I deserve her anger. But I know Kate’s not like that. She refuses to hold on to the bad. “What you have to do is…” She gulps and then breathes out heavily. “It’s not easy.”