“Uh huh. Older or younger?”
With a sigh, I say, “Ty is twelve and Derek is eighteen. There. Happy?”
He smiles and continues up the trail. “For the moment.”
“So, there are three kids in your family?” I ask, wanting to learn as much about him as I can. Siblings seem like a safe place to start since he asked about mine.
“Yep.”
“And your mom died?”
I'm rewarded with a nod.
“I'm really sorry, Breck. My mom almost died the other day too. If I hadn't been there to—”
“What? When? Before you died or since you've been here with me?”
“Uh, since I came to be with you,” I answer honestly.
“Wow,” he says. “I never thought about you people having families. Weird.”
“Well, I did have a life before you, you know. We don't just sit up there on pink clouds playing harps.”
A wry smile slides onto his face. “Good thing. All us mortals would go deaf.”
“Hey!” I say, laughing. “I took piano lessons my whole life. I rock on the piano.” I fold my arms across my chest, daring him to argue.
“I'd like to see that,” he says softly. “Really.”
The mood changes so quickly that I'm at a loss for words, but I want to share my latest dramas with someone. “Oh, Brecken. It was so cool seeing my family again. I miss them so much, but they're really screwed up, and I think it's my fault.” I shouldn't share these things, and there's nothing he can do to help anyway, but I'm so lonely for a friend who might understand.
We stop under a gnarled tree and sit on a bench at the gorilla's encampment.
“I can see you,” he says, in wonder reaching out to touch me. “Tell me about your death, Alisa. Please. I want to know.” It's the pleading in his voice gets me. But does he want to know about my death, or death in general? I figure it's death in general. Because of his mom.
Facing him, I study his features for sincerity, and place my hand on his. His concern washes over me. I've never felt these emotions from anyone besides my family and Natty. How wonderful to feel it from him too.
“Well... I guess the only way to say it, is to say it right out.” I take a deep breath and jump, figuratively speaking. “I killed myself.”
“You... killed yourself?” He leans away in surprise. “Why would you do that?” He frowns, his expression going from astonishment, to horror, to anger. “So many people with horrible diseases are fighting to live. How could you do that to your family?” His expression turns from anger to disgust. Shock zings through me, and I can't think of a thing to say. This is not the reaction I anticipated.
“I thought you'd died of cancer or something.” He stands up and paces in a circle. “I can't believe it.”
“My best friend died of cancer a few months before me. My Grandmother, who I was super close to, died before that. I couldn’t deal with it. You don't know.” I plead for him to understand, my arms outstretched.
“That's just... selfish.”
He stares at me in astonishment, and I stare back, unable to move. The rejection burns like hot wax, slowly melting my confidence. Any feelings Brecken and I have developed up to this point are gone, and what I get from him now is contempt. I have no words for how much it hurts.
“I can't have a guardian angel who committed suicide,” he whispers angrily. “I'm barely making it as it is! What help could you possibly be? You couldn’t even handle your own life.”
He's right. I don't know anything. I hadn't known how to live myself. I'd copped out. Given up. I'm a failure, and now I'm supposed to show Brecken the way?
“I... I'm sorry,” I murmur.
He jerks away and storms down the path without looking back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
~Running Away~
Alisa
I don't go home. I can’t. No one is there anyway. I'm not sure where my brothers are, but I don't feel like looking for them. Instead, I picture Gram—her blue eyes, her white hair, her loving face. But instead of appearing at her side, I appear in Idir Shaol. Back to the place I most want to leave.
I hurry to my cottage, wondering if they've given my bed away. As soon as I see my familiar blue and white quilt, relief floods through me. I fall onto the bedspread, hiding my face in its downy softness.
It isn't long before I feel a warm hand on my back.
“Alisa?”
I'm so embarrassed to be caught blubbering once again. “Shana?” Her soft expression and loving concern do me in and emotion gets the better of me. I start to cry.
She puts her arms around me and pulls me close. “What happened?”
“I can't do this. It's too hard. You have no idea. It's impossible. There's no way I can help him. I can't even help myself. Plus, he can see me and hear me too. Can you believe that?” I ramble on, complaining, crying, and generally feeling sorry for myself. When I finish, Shana brushes my hair back and smiles.
“He can see you? Wow. That's not normal, but... cool.”
“It's not cool. It makes it really hard. How am I supposed to influence him when he can ask me questions right back? He asked me how I died.”
“He did? What did you say?” Her face lights with interest and she slides closer.
I take a long breath, searching her eyes. “The truth. I told him the truth. I thought we were becoming friends. That he would understand. He didn't.”
“Oh, Alisa. I'm so sorry.” She hugs me again. “But you haven't failed yet. It's not uncommon for guardians to come back to Idir Shaol for various reasons during their assignment. Sometimes guardians need help or advice from Raphael.”
“Really? How come no one ever told me that?” I can’t believe they'd leave me in the dark about something so crucial. I thought I was totally on my own, and now betrayal hovers around me like an itchy blanket even though I try to push it away.
She laughs and socks me gently in the arm like Natty used to. “Anaita talked about it during class. Remember?”
No. I don't remember. What a surprise.
“Come on,” she says. “Let's go see Raphael.”
***
Raphael reclines in his office chair, his fingers intertwined over his stomach. His serious expression does little to help me feel better, and he doesn't say anything. Just waits for me to talk.
“I didn't realize I could come back if I needed to. I must have missed that part in class.” Nervously I pick at my white robe, brushing off invisible dirt. “And uh, I want to talk about my charge. Um, I'm not sure I'm a good fit for this assignment.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, because he can see and hear me.”
“Yes. I told you he had special abilities. Remember?” he says with zero emotion.
I clear my throat and continue. “About that. I must have dozed off in our interview or something.”
“Spirits don't doze off, Alisa.” He leans forward on his desk, gazing intently into my eyes. “They may tune out, not pay attention, or even ignore you, but they don't doze off.”
“Right.” As embarrassing as it is to admit I hadn't listened to him, it's worse to admit that I failed my task after only a few days. I can’t go back anyway. Brecken knows I killed myself. He won't let me help him even if I hold him at gunpoint.
With an audible sigh, Raphael shakes his head. “I admit it seems daunting, but that's all part of overcoming impossible obstacles. Did you think it would be simple? That you'd walk in and Brecken would turn his life around with a snap of your fingers?”
Actually, yeah. That's kind of what I thought. “No, I didn't think that. It's just that he knows I committed suicide and now he won't listen to me.”
“How could he possibly know that, Alisa?” He gazes at me with a knowing smile, and I wither before him. If he is trying to make me feel stupid, he has succeeded on a grand scale.
I stand up. This is getting me nowhere. I'll just go back to my cottage and wait out my sentencing. Maybe
I'll get a soft spot on the grass next to Mr. Roland. As I open the door, Raphael calls out to me.
“Alisa. You haven't failed yet. In fact, you're doing wonderfully. In a case like this, you have to let a friendship grow. You have to get him to trust you, to trust that you know more than he does, so he'll listen to you. He's hurting and knows his words were wrong. I'll tell you one more thing. His mother died of breast cancer, fighting to live, fighting to stay with her family, fighting for each painful breath. The fact that you so casually threw away your life was more than he could comprehend at the time. Go back. He'll forgive you.”
I nod and walk out the door. I know that taking my own life was wrong, and I totally understand about his mother. I would have felt the same way in his shoes. I'll tell him I'm sorry. I'll beg his forgiveness and prove I can be humble, no matter how much it hurts. I'll go straight back to Brecken because Raphael is right. I can't give up yet. I've tormented my brothers for much longer than I have Brecken. I still have fuel inside me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
~Fury Unleashed~
Brecken
She killed herself. Killed herself! Ended her own life. Her words pound through Brecken's mind over and over and over. He can't stop them. Can't get her voice out of his head, the way she said it... as though only admitting she ate the last cookie. She doesn't seem remorseful at all, and she expects him to tell her it's okay?
Isn't she sorry? All she has are excuses and he refuses to listen to those. He can only think of his mother lying in that hospital bed, the beeping machines surrounding her. Her face so pale, her eyes so sunken.
She fought to live for two years.
With every surgery, the doctors cut a little bit more of her away. She didn't want to die. No one in that hospital did. To think of all the patients he'd grown to know day after day. All those people praying, crying, and trying to live.
How could Alisa have done this to her family? Brecken clutches his face, wanting to rip all thoughts of his guardian out of his head. He hates her. Hates her with herculean fury. He won't let her stay now. There is no way he will tolerate her presence, and if she ever comes back, he'll tell her to go to hell!
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
~Silver Teeth~
Alisa
I close my eyes, picture Brecken, and try to block out the pain-filled expression I last saw on his face. A smile flits across my lips as I appear next to him on his front porch. He sits in a shady spot watching his sisters play at the park. As soon as I materialize, he stiffens and looks up. My heart softens at the hurt in his eyes.
“You're back.” He plucks a lonely sliver of grass from beside the porch and sticks it between his mouth.
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Because... you need me... and I need you.”
With a snort, he stands up and leans against the cool bricks on his house. “You know, when you first left, I... I hated you. I promised myself I'd never forgive you. That if you ever came back... ” He shakes his head and looks away.
I hesitate, knowing all of those feelings haven't completely gone away. He's still angry deep down, I'm sure. “What changed your mind?”
He glances at me and throws his blade of grass on the ground. “Because only a few days ago, I felt like ending it all too.”
“Oh, Brecken. Please let me explain. You don't know me, but I want you to.” I move over beside him, ready to spill my guts, but a sleek, black sports car pulls up to the curb, its engine revving loudly in the quiet afternoon.
And guess who sits in the driver's seat.
“Hey Jilly,” Brecken calls, jogging toward the car. She rolls down the passenger side window and he leans in, smiling. He reaches over, pulls her across the seat, and kisses her.
Ack. I feel nauseous.
When he stands back up, he turns and smiles at me. “See you later, Alisa.” He opens the car door and slides inside. Smoke wafts up from the squealing tires as they pull away.
Does he actually think he can ditch me that easily? He just doesn't get it. Moments later, I appear on a soft, brown leather seat. The air conditioning blasts my face, but I don't really feel the cold. I can feel its tornado-like strength whipping through the car though.
Brecken stiffens in the front seat, and I decide to be as irritating as possible since he left right when I'd decided to open up to him. “So, where are we going?”
He doesn't answer but turns to Jill. “Hey babe. What's the plan? Something dangerous, I hope?” He leans over and nibbles at her neck.
“Disgusting,” I whisper under my breath.
He glances at the back seat and smiles.
Rude.
“Umm, I have a surprise for you, Breck. Something I've been thinking about doing for a long time. It's something I've been learning about, and I think it would be super special for us, you know? It will bring us closer.”
Uh oh. I don't like the sound of this. I can picture all sorts of things that could bring them closer, and I don't want to witness any of them. Leaning forward, I rest my arms on the back of the front seat. “Brecken, whatever this is, please don't do it. I don't have a good feeling.”
“Sounds great, Jilly,” he says. “Can't wait.”
We drive in silence to the other side of town. To the side of town where Heidi's friend, Madison, lives. We stop in front of a grandiose home, complete with white marble pillars. The home of a wealthy southern bell.
“Come on,” Jill says, taking Brecken's hand and pulling him out the driver's side door.
Of course I follow, staring at their clasped hands. I stare at Jill's perfect butt, looking for more things about her I can hate. She wears pink flip-flops, white short-shorts, and a pink t-shirt that's way too tight.
She looks slutty, cheap, and desperate.
On the other hand, looking at Brecken sends a ripple of pleasure through me. Maybe it's his edginess, or the holes in his jeans and how they show his tan skin beneath. I like the messy lock of hair that never stays out of his eyes. Even his wily smile is endearing.
We enter the house and Jill pulls Brecken through the foyer, past a beautifully carved mahogany staircase, through an expensively tiled kitchen to a white door.
“Okay. Close your eyes and promise not to peek,” she says. We descend into a cement-walled basement.
This can't be good.
Jill doesn't turn on the lights, so it has got to be dark for them. For me, it's just plain creepy. The wooden stairs creak beneath their feet and the handrail rocks loosely away from the wall. Why is this area of the house so derelict when the rest is so fancy?
Landing at the bottom of the stairs, I realize we aren't in an unfinished basement at all, but a wine cellar. The far wall houses hundreds of slots, each filled with a dusty bottle of wine, and in the far corner, a multicolored blanket hangs, blocking our view.
“Keep your eyes closed,” Jill says again, gazing at Brecken's face to make sure he isn't cheating. She takes him to the curtain, pulls it aside, and then ushers him in.
I pass right through the thick fabric and stop in surprise. Four heavy blankets make a square room of about eight by eight feet. Against one quilt stands a low, narrow table filled with tapered candles and tiny, white tea-lights. Jill takes a match, strikes it, and begins lighting the candles. A brocade rug lies on the floor and colored scarves have been draped here and there to give it a gypsy's fortune-telling look. I have to admit, I like it. It's cozy.
Sidling up to Brecken, Jill says, “Okay. You can look now.”
Brecken opens his eyes and they widen in surprise. He turns in a slow circle, taking in every inch of the constructed room. “Wow. This is great, Jilly. I love it. Did you do all this?”
“Yep. For us.”
He pulls her into a tight hug and kisses her slowly. “It's awesome,” he whispers. “But why? If we want privacy, we can find it anywhere.” He nuzzles her neck and winks at me.
She pulls away and socks him in the arm. “This room
isn't for that, silly. It's for something else. Something better.”
“Better? Is there such a thing?”
She laughs and drags him to the center of the rug where they sit down. “This is definitely going to be better.” She points to the ceiling and the walls. “This basement is insulated. It's totally private, and I can lock the door at the top of the stairs.”
“O-kay,” he says, cocking his head, a question in his voice.
Jill's eyes glow with excitement and she reaches out to take both his hands. “Do you ever think about death, Brecken?”
I can't help but frown. Where is she going with this? I suspect Brecken thinks about death all the time, considering his mother recently died.
Brecken gives the makeshift room another cursory glance and nods his head. “Sometimes.”
“Me too. All the time. That's why I built this room.” She slips a book out from under the low table and holds it on her lap, running her hand over its embossed cover. “A friend gave this to me.” She lays it between them.
Becoming One, the title reads.
I have no idea what the book is about, but as soon as I lay eyes on it, I take a step back. “I don't know what that book is, Brecken, but I have a bad feeling about it. I really do. I think we should leave.”
He glances up, able to see me easily in the dim light of the candles. I stand behind Jill, staring hard into his face.
“Wow. You're... beautiful,” he says breathlessly.
He can't be talking to me. He doesn't even like me.
“Thank you,” Jill answers demurely.
“You radiate light like I've never seen before.” He closes his eyes as though basking in the warmth of my luminescence.
“Are you talking to me?” I ask in disbelief.
“Oh, Brecken. You don't know how wonderful that makes me feel,” Jill says, scooting closer so their crossed legs touched at the knees. “I love you so much.” She runs her hand along his jaw, and I want to smack it away. That's not her face to touch!
Wait. What?
“You don't see it,” he says to me, stating it as fact.
“Don't see what?” Jill asks, confused. “I see you, if that's what you mean. I see our love. We can be connected forever, Breck. This book taught me how.”
“Huh? What?” He glances at Jill, seeming surprised she's even speaking.
“Breck. Are you listening to me?”
He looks softly into her eyes, and says, “Are we going to have a séance or something?”
Reluctant Guardian Page 11