Branded (Fall of Angels)

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Branded (Fall of Angels) Page 11

by Keary Taylor

CHAPTER TEN

   

  I was bound and determined that I was not going to sit around and obsess over Alex or the fact that he was going to be gone for a week.  I wasn’t that pathetic, or at least I was going to pretend that I wasn’t.

  But a week had never looked so long. 

  I had a new issue to consider for distraction, thankfully, but very unthankfully.  Something else had changed about my whole angel experience.  This was the third thing that had differed from the normal experiences I had.  I couldn’t even begin to theorize about what this might mean.  I shuddered when I considered the possibility that things might continue to change even more. 

  This last trial was a new kind of nightmare.  The leader of the condemned had seen my face, looked straight into my eyes.  If there had ever been some kind of comfort the nightmares provided it was that thin sack that protected my true identity.  That had been ripped away.  What would this change?  I had no disillusioned thoughts that it might make the nightmares stop.  I had already settled myself on the fact that it was something I was just going to have to deal with for the rest of my existence.  But how would it effect the trials?  At least one of the council knew the person beneath the bag did not belong to the name they were judging. 

  As terrifying as it had all been, I could not help but remember the strange emotions that spread through me as I stared into those black eyes.  I had been so captivated by them.  It had been as if I physically could not have looked away, had the mob not pulled me over the edge.

  And for the first time, I could not remember the name I had stood trial for.

   

  I reminded myself as I walked through the glass doors that I wasn’t going to continue to be a hermit.  If I wanted a shot at a normal life I was going to have to crawl out of my shell and interact with people.  Normal people.

  Relief washed over me as I saw that there were only five other people in the room.  It was best to start off slow and work my way out of the lonely hole I had dug for myself.

  I remembered seeing the flyer for a new yoga class that was starting up when I was in town last.  I had given it next to no thought at the time but it seemed the perfect way to ease my way back into normal society.  I could be around people but not have any pressure to have to talk as we would all be focusing on relaxing and building flexibility. 

  Dressing for the class had taken some careful consideration.  I knew the normal attire that was to be worn to practice yoga, but the small strappy tops wouldn’t do in covering my scars.  Instead I had opted for a tee-shirt until I could find something that would work better.  I knew it was going to drive me crazy but I had little choice but to leave most of my mane of hair down and loose.  I would just have to deal with it being in my face.

  Most everyone stood around, not meeting each other in the eye, experiencing that first awkwardness that came with this type of thing.  There were four women, two of which seemed to have come together, and one man who was as thin as a twig.

  A woman walked in from a side room and I couldn’t help but stare at the way in which she moved.  She seemed to glide over the floor rather than walk and she held a certain air about herself that said she knew exactly who she was and knew exactly the direction she wanted her life to be moving in.  Her facial features were strong and sure.  Her hair was a nearly white color of blond and hung in perfectly styled curls down to the middle of her back.  She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me.

  “Good morning,” she said cheerily as she observed us all.  “My name is Emily Lewis.  I’m so glad all of you came today.”

  She asked for our names and we each gave them in turn.  I knew it was going to take me a few more classes before I was going to remember any of the other student’s names.

  It took me longer than I would have hoped to figure out the breathing techniques she taught us.  Each of the poses was indeed a challenge to keep up the endurance to hold them.  Flexibility wasn’t ever an issue, I was abnormally flexible.  But by the end of the class I was surprised at how relaxed I felt and the energy that refreshed me.

  “Jessica.”  I stopped as I had turned for the door when I heard Emily call my name after the class was over.

  She walked up to me with a bright smile on her face.  “I wanted to ask you.  Have you ever done yoga before?”

  I shook my head.

  “You’re a natural at it.  Quite flexible, I must say.  I think once you can get the breathing down it won’t be long before you’ll be a master.”

  I felt myself blush slightly at her compliments.  “Thanks,” I managed.  “I’m glad I came today.”

  Emily only nodded before she walked away to put the mats back in their bins.

  I smiled as I walked out the door, knowing that what I said was indeed the truth.  I was glad I had made the decision to come today.

  As I left the building, I now confronted a new uncertainty.  I had been quite proud of myself that I had made it safely into town without causing a wreck in Alex’s monster of a vehicle.  As I had driven, I realized it was in fact a fairly normal sized truck, but I had certainly never had to maneuver something so big.  I wasn’t sure if I was ready to pick up the challenge again.  But having no choice but to drive the thing again, I carefully made my way further into town and pulled into to the parking lot of the mall. 

  Making the decision to be around other people made me realize just how pathetic my wardrobe had gotten.  And I was becoming embarrassingly aware of how sad my excuse for pajamas was.  If Alex really did come back I didn’t want to be caught in my old threadbare ones again.  And besides that, I realized I was starting to dress like a sixty-year-old hermit.

  I spent longer than I had meant to at the mall, taking way more care in picking a few new items of clothing than I cared to admit to myself.  It felt good to spoil myself though.  I didn’t do it often.

  After picking a few things up from the grocery store, I started the drive home.  Even though the snow had been slightly inconvenient it had been beautiful to look at.  Snow wasn’t common in western Washington so it was nice to see it, as long as it didn’t stay long.  But with the rise in temperature it had melted and left the world looking water-logged and mushy.  With the temperature remaining low and the sad absence of the sun, everything was just cold and damp.

  I was tempted to pull straight into Sal’s driveway so I could unload everything I had gotten for her easily, but an enormous moving truck was blocking the way.  Several men scurried in and out of it and into the house next to Sal’s.  Strange, I hadn’t noticed it was for sale.

  Very, very carefully I eased the truck into the garage.  It took me longer than it should have to unload my things.  I had spent more than I should have but somehow could not feel completely guilty about it.

  With Sal’s three bags in hand, I took the ninety-one steps to her house, silently cursing at my returned habit of counting.

  For once, I did not have to look for her as I entered.  She stood at the window next to the front door, her hands twisting into nervous knots as she stared anxiously at the men as they worked.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked her as I set the bags on the counter.  I should have realized a change like this would set her on edge.

  “Where did Henry go?”  Her voice came out as a whispered hiss.

  It took me a moment to remember Henry was Sal’s other neighbor.  He was a quiet man who seemed incredibly shy, but would always smile and wave.

  “I guess he sold the house,” I said as I glanced out the window.  Five movers were carrying a baby grand piano into the house.  “I never saw a for sale sign though.  Did you?”

  “Why would Henry leave?” she said as she started to bounce on the balls of her feet.  “Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know,” I sighed as I put the last of the food away.  I wiped my hands on my stretch yoga pants before walking over to where Sal fidgeted.

  I placed my hands cautiously
on her shoulders, so as not to upset her further.  “I’m sure Henry’s fine, Sal.  Remember, his wife passed away last year.  Maybe he just needed a change.”

  She was still anxious, but this seemed to placate her for the moment as she followed me to the couch.  I cleared a stack of worn looking books from it to make room for her to sit down.

  “Do you think Alex would come over tonight?” Sal asked as I stacked the books back on the shelf.

  “Alex had to go away for a little while,” I called over my shoulder, remembering that I had not told her yet.  “He said he would be back in a week or so.”

  “Oh,” I heard her whisper.  “Alex is a nice boy.”

  Even though it sounded terrible, it delighted me to hear her sound sad at this news.  Sal didn’t trust many people, especially men.  She had let Alex get behind her defenses so easily I was still in slight shock over it.

  “I’m going to come back over tonight and make you dinner,” I said as I walked back toward the door.  “Would that be alright with you?”

  I saw the wheels turn in Sal’s head and she considered this.  I generally preferred to be by myself in the evenings and had never offered to make her dinner before.  But I needed to be around people more, even if the only person I had for company was slightly crazy.

  “That would be fine,” she answered finally.  “I could help you.”

  I nodded my head even though I doubted the kind of help Sal might be able to offer.  “I’ll come over at five-thirty then.”

   

  The evening had passed uneventfully.  I had made Sal stroganoff and she had managed to whip up a surprisingly delicious green salad.  She seemed uneasy and not exactly up for company so I had not stayed long.  I supposed she was still upset by the sudden change of her other neighbor.

  Later that night, I sat with my arms wrapped around my knees, perched on the upper deck, rocking back and forth slightly.  Even though it was only seven it had already been dark for almost two hours.  A low mist had settled itself over the tops of the trees and it was slowly descending upon the tops of the houses.  The towering evergreens that encircled the lake swayed in the slight breeze, tracing patterns in the silver mist, the moon invisible behind it.  I loved the smell of the night here, like the earth was alive, like if you listened hard enough it might tell you its secrets.

  A hand unconsciously rose to the back of my neck as it began to prickle.  I wasn’t sure if it was actually warm to the touch, but under my freezing hands it felt much hotter than the rest of my skin.  The angels were calling.

  I squeezed my eyes shut.  Seven… eight…nine…ten…  The numbers started flowing before I even allowed the thoughts to process.

  Without realizing, I had reached for the phone at my side and I was staring at it intently.  I wanted to dial the number I had already memorized but what was I going to say?  I silently hoped Alex would call.  The aching wish sat in the pit of my stomach like a festering ulcer. 

  Trying to distract myself, I reached for the envelope that I was half sitting on to keep from blowing away.  I took a deep breath before tearing it open.

  The letter was from my father.  He said that he was doing fine and had just moved his orthodontic practice into a new building.  My younger sister Amber was anxious for the last few months of her senior year to go by.  She had a new boyfriend but this was the fourth one this school year so he didn’t expect it to last long.  He said he missed me and wished I would come home.  There was no mention of my mother.  There was never any mention of her.

   

  “Careful, it’s going to drip,” my mom said as she handed me an ice cream cone.

  A cold trail of mint ice cream ran down my six-year-old hand.  I licked it off, smiling at my mom, the gap in my teeth felt weird against my lips.  I’d been proud of myself for having pulled the loose one out myself.

  My mom smiled back before she turned her attention to Amber, who was whining to be let out of the stroller.  She unbuckled her and my two-year-old sister ran toward the playground. 

  I watched as she climbed up to the slide.  “Watch me, mommy!” she shouted from the top.

  “I’m watching!” mom called to her, blocking the sun from her eyes with her hand.

  Amber squealed and went down the slide head first.

  My mom clapped as she reached the bottom.  She looked back at me.  “Do you want to go play with her?”

  I shook my head.  “Not right now.”

  We sat in the quiet for a minute, licking our quickly melting ice cream cones.  Mom watched the other kids, the sound of happy screams coming from the public pool that was fenced off on the opposite side of the park.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to take swimming lessons this year?” my mom asked as she looked back at me.

  I shook my head, my pigtails flopping around my neck. 

  “How come?” she asked.

  “I just don’t,” I said a little sharper than I had intended to.

  Mom let it drop, running over to Amber to check her knees after she tripped.

  I looked over to the pool, watching as two kids my age did a cannon ball into the water.  I really did want to learn to swim.  But I would never be able to put a swimming suit on.  The scars on my back controlled my life.

   

  I folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope.  I hadn’t actually spoken to any of my family members since I had run away four years ago.  In a moment of weakness, I had written my father a letter a year ago, giving a return address to my post office box in Bellingham.  I didn’t want him to come looking for me.  If he could find me so could my mother and as soon as she did she would haul me off to the loony bin.

  Anger welled up in me as I thought of her.  I balled up the letter and let it fall to the ground.  Mothers were supposed to be kind, loving, and understanding.  Instead, mine was disappointed in, irritated with, and afraid of me. 

  A movement caught my eye and my head whipped around to find the source.  I had sworn I just saw someone standing in the window of the new neighbor’s house, but it was dark and empty with no hint of life.

  An odd sense of fear filled me as I waited for something to move again.  Darkness may have been the enemy of trying to stay awake, but I had never been afraid of what might be hidden in it, other than the strange episode of me passing out.  The sense of dread that filled me was foreign.

  I quickly rose and walked back inside.

   

   

   

 

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