Broken Butterflies (4 page)

“I have no idea. He wasn’t there.”

“He didn’t look local. I know everyone in this town,” Amy said.

“Creepy,” Ilisha said in a high pitched voice. She moved on. “Mom and I talked a little this morning, it was nice, but I worry about her.”

“You can’t get her to change Ilisha.”

“I know, but she’s got to cry sooner or later.”

When the baby cried out of hunger Ilisha said she would catch up to Amy later. She walked home watching the sun set over the mountains. Brilliant red and orange streaked across the dark blue sky. Patches of clouds moved at a steady pace. A white flake drifted in front of her nose. “How does it go from fifty to snow?”

Pacing her on the other side of the road was the guy in the suit. She turned her head to let him know she felt his presence. When she slowed her pace, so did he. “Enough of this bullshit.” She crossed the road. “Hey, what the hell’s your problem?”

His appearance was startling, she couldn’t help but study his face. His salt and pepper hair and beard camouflaged deep marks and dark spots. Iridescent blue eyes stared at her maniacally. Burn scars wrinkled and distorted his hands, and his dark suit concealed his large frame.

“Your destiny awaits you,” he replied in a deep, scratchy voice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The stranger’s hand jerked up, too fast for Ilisha to react, and stopped short of her throat. “You need a lesson in manners,” he growled.

Without touching her he caused Ilisha’s throat to closed. Grasping her neck, she fell to the ground kicking and flailing. She sucked in screeching breaths. Her vision blurred. As her heels dug into the ground, she rolled to her side. The fuzzy outline of a man grabbed her assailant and tossed him on the ground like a rag doll. Ilisha blinked trying to focus.

With their quick movements, she couldn’t make out what was happening. Her body tingled and her hands became numb. She curled her toes trying to bring them to life.

As her eyes rolled back and she fought for consciousness, her body was lifted from the ground. She opened her eyes one more time. The fuzzy face of a man appeared in front of her. She tried to speak, but she sucked in a broken cough instead.

“Sshh, you’re safe,” the man replied.

The lingering cold of the earth clung to her back. Gentle fingers stroked her neck and chest, and she felt herself calm. Ilisha sucked in a needed breath. Blinking, her vision returned, and she stared into Bram’s sapphire eyes. She swallowed hard against the pain in her throat. “What happened?” she whispered hoarsely.

“You’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“No, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I ca”—” he started.

“Don’t, okay.” She felt well enough to stand. Brushing herself off she walked away.

“Where are you going?” Bram asked panicked.

“You don’t want to tell me anything, so I’m outta here.” Her voice was still strained.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Stay away from me!” she said, pointing as she walked away.

With her back turned she swore he said, “I can’t.”

The more she saw Bram the more questions went unanswered. Now she was being attacked. Ilisha knew when enough was enough.

Snow covered the road and house when Ilisha awoke. She peered out the window and sighed.

Her hand went to her throat, and she winced. Running to the bathroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Ilisha’s neck was purple and green. Trailing her index finger down it lightly, the skin turned white and refilled with color. She hissed, trying to take the pain.

“Crap, how am I going to explain this?”

She looked at her cell phone. “It’s Sunday, mom’s at church.” Ilisha grabbed her robe and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

Grabbing a dish towel, she unloaded a tray of ice into it. She lay on the couch with the towel on her neck. “Ahh,” she said, jerking as it hit her skin.

She flipped through the channels settling on a documentary about angels. Most of it she tuned out, but something caught her attention and her ears perked. Listening intently as the man with the deep voice spoke she propped herself up on her elbow. “Most religions have a form of guardian angels. Sometimes they are protectors; other times comforters. They can also be finders of death angels.”

Supporting the ice, she dashed across the room to her mother’s computer. She bounced her legs and tapped her fingers waiting for the dial-up internet. “My gosh, what century do you live in, woman?”

Five minutes later Ilisha Googled guardian angels. A plethora of sites popped up. Clicking on a link for
Angels in Our Lives
, she scrolled down. “A guardian angel is an angel assigned to protect and guide a particular person or group. Belief in guardian angels can be traced throughout all antiquity. Direct interaction with humans is not allowed. Those that develop relationships with their assignments are considered fallen. Immortality is lost, but their gifts and powers remain strong. Guardian angels can look like any other person. You could encounter them at any time and have no indication.”

Ilisha’s mouth fell open. “No, way.” she said, staring at the screen.

She threw the towel and ice in the kitchen sink and ran for the stairs. Throwing on the first thing she found, and getting some makeup on, she heard her mother come in.

“Crap.” Ilisha sifted through the clothes she bought and found a shirt with a high neck and changed.

She looked at herself in the mirror to make sure her neck was hidden.

When she walked in the kitchen Dena was rummaging through the fridge.

“Hey, how was church?”

“It was a good service.”

Ilisha hurried and hid the ice pack.

“Want some lunch?” Dena asked cheerfully.

“Sure.”

She felt impatient and wanted nothing more than to find Bram and question him. Dena whipped up some tuna sandwiches and they played cards for a while.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” Dena said yawning.

She sat on the couch and wondered how she would even find Bram. Frustrated she picked up a magazine and read. Her mom never came back downstairs and she let her sleep. It was rare that Dena actually slept.

Ilisha felt bored and as soon as it was dark she changed for bed, which was unusual for her. Going to sleep at nine o’clock made her feel old.

Large drops of rain began to pound the roof and echoed through the wood floored house. She pulled the curtains back to get a look. Bram stood across the road looking up at her window. Wasting no time, she ran out the front door. “Why are you standing outside my room in the middle of a rain storm?” she yelled over the drops, steam leaving her mouth.

His black hair flattened in the rain and dripped down his face. “Just keeping watch.”

“You’re going to get sick, come with me.” Ilisha lead him through the cellar door and flipped on the light.

The black and white checkered floor stretched the length of the basement and remnants of brown and orange 70’s era furniture lined the walls. Bram looked around uneasy.

“Give me your clothes,” Ilisha said, tossing him a large towel.

He hesitated for a moment, but unbuttoned his shirt. A lump formed in Ilisha’s throat.
Holy shit, he’s ripped.
With some effort, she looked away. He sat down and pulled his boots off. When his hands hit the button on his jeans, she turned her back. His clothes landed in a pile in front of her. She gathered them and tossed them in the dryer, then turned to face him. The towel was secure around him, just below his belly button. Her eyes looked to the side of him, forcing herself not to stare.

“You can sit,” she said. “Why are you watching me?”

“Protection,” Bram said making himself comfortable next to her on the couch.

She forced herself to look into his blue eyes. “Why did you save me on the train?”

“I wasn’t ready to let you go.”

“You say that like you have known me for a long time.”

He didn’t respond to that so she moved on. “Are you an angel?”

“Yes, but it’s complicated. You figured that out huh?” His hand gently moved the collar of her shirt. He leaned forward and Ilisha closed her eyes opening her mouth. A slight tingle ran through her neck as his lips brushed along the bruise. As he continued the tingle grew to a current. “Better?” he asked, breaking her trance.

Her eyes blinked open.
You’re beautiful,
she thought as she stared. She ran her hand down her neck. The pain of the bruise could no longer be felt. “How?” she asked.

“I masked it, nothing more.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“I really need some answers from you,” she finally said.

“I promise you will get them, but not tonight. There is too much going on. I should get going.” Bram walked to the dryer and pulled his still wet clothes out. Ilisha watched as he slipped his underwear and pants on under the towel. His biceps curling as he pulled them up. Her eyes didn’t blink until the last button on his shirt fastened.

He slipped his boots on saying, “Sorry I have to leave.”

“I wish you didn’t.”

“I’ll be close.” He smiled reassuringly before walking out the door.

Ilisha ran upstairs and flipped on her bathroom light. Her hand pawed at her healed neck. She touched the spot his lips had been and felt a chill.

Dashing for the window, she watched as he walked down the street, his clothes already drenched again.

Ilisha woke to the sounds of loud sirens outside. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she opened the window and stuck her head out. Some people were in bathrobes and pajamas. Grey haired ladies with rollers clambered toward the park while others gathered in groups talking.

“What the fetch?” Ilisha shoved the window down and ran to the bathroom. She fixed herself up a bit and bushed her teeth.

Pulling on sweats, she trotted down the stairs and grabbed a pair of Dena’s boots sitting by the door and ventured out in the cold. Tapping the first person she came to on the shoulder, she asked, “Excuse me, what’s going on?”

The young man turned toward her, his long, greasy hair whipping around. “Dude, someone took out the park.” His friends laughed hysterically.

The crowd became tighter as she walked toward the park. Elbowing her way through and tripping over feet, she emerged at the front. “What the hell?” she said, tripping over a thick wire thatused to be a fence.

Not a single blade of winter-dead grass was left on the ground. The swing sets were a tangled heap of metal, curving on one another like a pretzel. Shards of the merry-go-round platform were lodged in the snack shack a few feet away. Animals that sat on coiled springs in the kids play area were beheaded. The slide was across the street, snuggly sliced through a garage roof. Across the park by the baseball diamond, a fire crew sprayed at flames leaping from the dugouts.

Placing her palm on a wood parking post, she climbed over a pile of debris. Dusting her hand was iridescent powder that made her skin feel like velvet. She held her palm out and ran her index finger through the shiny dust. Some of it was pure white while other parts were pitch black. Neither would join the other. When she forced the particles, they dashed across her hand like a breeze caught them.
Like polar opposites. Maybe I shouldn’t be touching this.
She wiped her hand on her pants and the particles danced away from each other.

She walked past the mayor, who looked like he threw on the first thing available. He stood amongst the town in a flannel shirt, trucker hat, and sweats. His socks under his sandals made her chuckle.

“It looks like a tornado came through town. Someone better give me some explanations.” The mayor demanded.

The police chief stammered, “Sir, we’re doing all we can. There’s no trace of evidence.”

“Well, the park didn’t destroy itself. Get on it!” The mayor looked at Ilisha. “And what’s she doing in here?”

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the park.” The chief took Ilisha’s arm and escorted her back to the street.

A giant maple tree, which had been therefore as long as Ilisha could remember, lay in their path. It was shredded and snapped as if it were a tooth pick. “I think I can manage from here,” Ilisha said as she turned to avoid a branch. She turned around once and the chief glared back.