Sojourner (5 page)

I open my eyes and find his mysterious blue ones staring at me, a worried frown tugging at his lips.  Then he walks away and closes the door.  Immediately Celia tugs the saturated coat from around my body.  I try to help get the wet clothing from my body, but my fingers cramp and they fumble uselessly.

“You look absolutely blue,” Celia says.  Once the wet clothing has been removed, she helps me into the warm water that at first feels so hot but then, as it washes over me, my internal body temperature adjusts, calibrating itself to the warmth of the water.

She pulls the curtain closed to afford me privacy.  “Will you be all right by yourself?”

“Yes,” I manage, the chatter in my teeth slower, quieter.

“Once you’re ready to get out, there’s a clean towel to dry with and a set of Lev’s sweats.  You’re probably too tall for my clothes.  I’ll be right outside in case you need anything.”

“Okay.”  I focus on my breathing as I hear the door shut, leaving me with my thoughts.  I drift in the warm water until I feel warm enough to get out.  I draw the curtain back and find myself standing in front of a full-length mirror.  The walls are a light blue, and a framed print of a beach at sunset hangs on a wall.  A basket of shells sits on the counter by a cluster of white candles.

Stepping out of the tub, I see large red areas on my shoulder and hip where I crashed into the ice.  As I run my fingers over them, pain explodes beneath the skin, confirming the bruising that will show in a few hours.  Still trembling, but ever so much closer to warm than I was, I grab the towel and dry the bathwater from my skin before stumbling into the fresh clothes which have been set out for me.  As the comfy fleece covers my body, I realize just how big Lev is and how small I am compared to him.

My hair is wild, and I try to brush my fingers through it, but that does nothing to tame it.  My face is flushed, my lips chapped, and I really look ill.  Because I didn’t eat lunch, I can feel my stomach reeling.  If I don’t get a snack or something, Celia is going to find me on the floor, passed out.

Dreading the embarrassment, I open the door and slip into the hall to find Celia standing next to the bathroom door and Lev just across, one shoulder leaning on another door with his hands deep in his jean pockets.  He wears a white knit shirt and different jeans.  His bare feet seem pale against the wood floor.  He straightens his posture when he sees me and pulls his hands free.

I step into the hall, my feet unsteady just like my muddled thoughts.  Immediately his hand touches my arm, bracing me.  Our eyes meet, and he reads my face.

“You don’t look so good, Elizabeth.”  He guides me into the living room and eases me onto the sofa.  One wall has a massive bookshelf with lots of leather bound books.  An old framed map hangs on another wall.  On the fireplace hearth, scattered amid all the pictures of Lev and Celia, I see an old compass, and an ancient camera.  The strangest thing is that I don’t see a television or a stereo system.

Celia brings a bowl of chicken soup.  “Sorry that it’s instant, but at least it’s warm, right?”

“Right.”  My trembling hands take it, and Lev hovers, probably expecting Ms. Graceful will dump it.

“What a day to take a swim,” Lev says, raking his fingers through his hair.  “I don’t know what you Texans do, but we generally discourage swimming on snow days.”  As he moves his hand, I see the bracelet even clearer, but I can’t tell what it says, at least not until I catch his wrist and read it for myself.  Expecting to find his full name, the word etched in a cursive font is “hesed.”  I stare at the bracelet for a moment longer, trying to recognize the word, but I don’t.  So I look up at him from where he has decided to perch on the armrest of the sofa.

“What does that mean?”

“Love.”  He nods to my soup.  “You should get some of that down before it gets cold.  Nothing like chicken soup after it’s lukewarm.”

Nodding, I pick up my spoon and fill my mouth. As soon as the broth and noodles hit, the warmth suffuses through me.  I continue eating, with Lev and Celia hovering, her watchful blue eyes vigilant.

“Where am I?” I ask, as Lev takes the empty bowl from my hand and gives it to his sister.

“Would you like some pound cake?” Celia asks, taking the empty bowl.  “We just picked some up from the store.”

“No, thanks.”

Lev gives her a strange look, shakes his head, and then turns back to me.

“The house in the cemetery.  Are you warm enough?”

I nod.  “Yeah, how is that possible?”

“My father is the groundskeeper.”

At the mention of the word father, I all but jump up.  “Oh no.  My guardian is probably freaking out.  How long have I been here?”

“An hour or so.”  He shrugs, as though he’s not sure.  “Your clothes are in the dryer.  They should be dry for you to take home, except your parka.  But I have a coat you can use.”  I look at the sweats, and Lev catches my drift.  “Don’t worry about changing right now.  You can bring them to school.”

 “Thank you.  For everything.”

Lev chuckles and stands.  “A ‘thank you.’  For everything no less?  I figured after school you’d be ready to kill me when you found out I was the snitch about the mirror.”  He reaches for my hand to help me up.

“So it was you.”  I look at the sweatshirt, bothered by the length of the sleeves.  Lev also notices this and rolls one up first and then the other.

“Yep.”  He arches one eyebrow in a challenge.  “Still, I owe you one.  You falling in the pond was my fault, actually.”  He looks over my head, out the window where the snowfall has picked up considerably, confirming Jimmie’s promise of winter  in Massachusetts.

“Your fault?”

“I was supposed to have fixed the handrails last summer but didn’t.  So you slid right into the pond and I had to fish you out.”  Our gazes lock, and as I stare at his beautiful face that seems to glow, I feel my heartbeat pick up.

“Lucky you.”

“Yeah, sure.  This is me complaining.  Can’t you hear all the whining?”

“No,” I say, laughing.  “You’ll have to whine just a little louder.”

He nods to the window.  “You should probably get home before the roads get nasty and your father goes nuts worrying about you.  Celia bagged your clothes and I’ll get one of my coats you can use.  The last thing you need is to go wandering around in this frigid weather without something warm on.”

“Thanks.  I appreciate it.  But Jimmie isn’t my father.”

“Oh.”  He looks away as if embarrassed.  “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

He peered down at my bare feet and I wiggled my toes in embarrassment.  “I’ll find you some boots, too.  Can’t guarantee they won’t swallow your feet, though”

I stand and look around, searching for my purse as Celia approaches me with my bagged clothing and shoes.

“I’ll get the coat back to you tomorrow when it’s dry, if that’s okay.”  She offers me the other stuff.

“Did Lev put my purse somewhere?” I ask, knowing that without my keys I’m not going anywhere.

“It’s probably in the bottom of the river, Elizabeth.” He hands me a coat.  “Truthfully I was more worried about getting you home and warm than seeing if you had everything that you came with, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”  I slip the coat on and then take the rain boots he offers, careful not to balk at the huge size. “Umm, I think this just got a little more complicated.”

“How so?”

Blushing, I shrug.  “I think my keys are probably at the bottom of that pond you fished me out of.”

“Looks like I’ll need a coat, too, if I’m driving you home.  So just hold that thought.”  He walks back to the coat closet, pulls out a thick black leather coat, and slips his arms into it.”  Then he nods at me.  “Are you ready to go?”

For a moment I find myself gazing into his blue eyes, breathless as he towers over me.  His arms dangle at his sides, and he stands perfectly still, seemingly as mesmerized by me as I am by him.

“Shouldn’t you get her home?”  Celia asks, touching his arm.

“Yeah, I guess I should.  Your guardian will be worried.”  His voice is rough-silk music, the ends unraveling.  Lev blinks and looks away.  He reaches into his jeans pockets and pulls the keys out.  Then his hand touches the small of my back, gently guiding me toward the door.  Though I try to walk as normally as possible, my feet constantly trip over each other while Lev and I walk outside and start toward his pick up.  My left foot tangles with the other and I start to fall.  As Lev’s arm remains wrapped around me, his hold tightens, anchoring me against him.  My head presses against his chest, and I inhale sharply from my own clumsiness.

“You all right?” he whispers, his grip steady, unwilling to release me.

“Yeah.  It’s just been a long day.”  I close my eyes, so tired.

“All right.”  Without warning, he sweeps one arm under the bend of my knees and lifts me.  As he touches my hip, I flinch and a gasp of pain rattles through me.

“What happened?”  His hands, once so sure, waver and his steps falter.

“I hit the ice when I fell.  That’s all.”  Too tired to fight, I lean against his chest, savoring his body warmth.  “Why are you carrying me?” I murmur, feeling sleep reaching for me.

“You fell off the bridge with your shoes on.  I don’t even want to take a chance with boots that are too big.  I need to get you home in one piece.”

The fluid motion of his steps halted, and I realized he is opening the passenger door of an old brown truck.  Once it swings wide open, he carefully slides me onto the seat.  Already I feel myself in the twilight of unconsciousness, bordering on the place where dreams find me almost every night, but right now the exhaustion is so great, I don’t care.  I crave sleep as my head leans against the headrest.  Through half-shut lids, I see him lean over me, his face close to mine, and buckle the seatbelt that his fingers draw the slackness from.

 He stands upright, staring, a wistful expression on his face.  Then, his mouth switches back to the neutral frown while he closes the door then walks to the other side.  Shoving the keys into the ignition and starting the engine, he asks, “You still awake?”

I can hear him, somewhere on the fringes of consciousness, but I can’t answer.  Blackness comes with  the soldiers.

The images are fluid and relentless, like a movie being fast-forwarded.  This time it is in black and white, except me.  My blood is red against the snow.  The pain is intense.  It steals my breath.  Lev is there in the distance, watching me with those hooded eyes, standing as blood ebbs from my body.  I know he can hear my scream. 

I’m begging for help, but my words are strange syllables that don’t sound familiar.  It is my Native tongue, the language no one has ever taught me.  Lev just stands there, watching.

His body is so bright, and the air ripples around him.  I feel myself dying, and I scream louder.  Why won’t you help me?  He does not speak.  Small deliberate steps mean to pass time.  The world grows hazy.  Then he grabs me.  I scream louder.

Hands grab me, shaking me.

“Wake up.  You’re having a nightmare.”

My eyes open widely, and I look over.  Lev is there, concern all over his face.  My heart rams my chest, and I look around.  We’ve pulled off to the side of the road.  The last of the sunlight dwindles behind the horizon, and in five minutes, I’ll be in the dark.  With Lev.

“Elizabeth?”  His frown intensifies.

At this moment all I can think of is the Lev in my dreams who watched me die.  The eyes are the same.  His body is huge, and I feel trapped.

Gasping, I throw the door open, running just as soon as my feet hit the pavement.  The boots suck at my feet and then, they almost come off.  Then my feet tangle, causing my body to tumble, adding new bruises.