The Savior Rises (19 page)

She stood up on her bed and walked erect over to where her father knelt. She didn’t flinch or even hesitate. She held the knife in both hands, raised it above her head and plunged it down, directly into his back, using her entire body as force.

She was surprised how easily it sank into his skin and how far into his back it disappeared. It was something like a magic trick. Now you see it, now you don’t. Then the knife was gone, only the handle could be seen.

She fell on top of her dad’s back as he slumped over, crashing to the floor. His head fell on top of her mother’s, and it was then that Stefani saw her mother’s eyes. Her beautiful eyes were all swollen now. Those eyes simply stared at her like something from a zombie movie.

She heard a strange gurgling noise coming from her father and couldn’t figure out what it was. Matt still stood in the corner. He hadn’t moved for longer than she could remember.

Stefani lay down in her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She saw her posters across her walls. There were three of them. She swore someday she would visit Stonehenge. It really did seem like such a beautiful place.

Her gargoyles were all perched on her shelf. They were safe, and in the end they had done their job. She was safe now, after all. Their timing might have waivered, but they had always been there for her. She couldn’t fault them.
I really should name them someday,
she thought.

One of the older ones looked Hispanic. The only Hispanic name she could think of was Hector. It seemed fitting. Hector was such a respectful, elderly sounding name. Maybe she would call the other graying one Collin. That seemed fitting, as well. It was somewhat English.

Her favorite one she would call Dennis. He was always there for her, and he looked so strong. He would be there for her in the end. She did always feel safe when he watched over her.

Matt still stood there, looking at her. He hadn’t said a single word. She wondered what he was thinking. He shook a little. Stefani wondered if he were cold. She felt a little chilly herself.

She got up and walked down the hallway to their bathroom. They only had the one bathroom in the apartment. She flipped on the hot water and let it run down her hair, face, and skin. It felt so relaxing. It really did calm her down. She always loved standing in the water.

She stayed in the shower until the hot water was completely drained, and it turned cold. She hated the cold water. Why did anyone even have cold water to begin with? Shouldn’t a shower be as hot as you could possibly make it?

She wrapped a towel around her and went back to see if Matt were ok. He was lying on the floor now. The knife had been removed from her father’s back, and Stefani couldn’t see it anymore. She wondered what had happened while she was in the shower. The pieces of the puzzle didn’t always make sense.

She loved working on puzzles, but never did get much of a chance. She had her chores to do, and she was always cleaning the kitchen floor. About the only time she took a break was when The Price is Right was on. Her mother really did love watching that show.

Matt lay on the floor, and a pool of blood was magically forming around his body. It was odd to see so much blood in her room. Red was quickly overtaking the white, seeping into every corner and crevice. It seemed to be spray-painted over the entire floor. She jumped when her mom’s legs twitched again.
That’s really freaky how her legs keep moving,
she thought.

She tip-toed over everyone and grabbed her Raggedy Ann doll off of the bed and went into the kitchen. She knew it was clean in the kitchen. She’d been beaten badly once when she had failed to clean the kitchen floor properly. She’d never made that mistake again.

She pulled a blanket out of the hall closet and curled up on the kitchen floor. It felt nice to lay her head down. She was so tired. It would be wonderful to finally get some sleep. She saw the broom leaning against the wall in the corner and imagined what it must be like to play baseball. She felt she would be good at baseball if she were given a chance.

She could hear the TV in the living room. Her mom must’ve left it on when her dad called her. He wouldn’t like that very much. He hated to waste electricity.
“Come on Down!”
was all she heard before she closed her eyes. Man, her mother really did like The Price is Right.

Stefani didn’t even bother getting up when she heard the beating on her front door. It was probably her neighbors again. They came down every once in a while to ask them to be quiet. She thought that was funny since she was never allowed to make any noise to begin with. She was required never to speak unless spoken to first, and then her answers were mostly “yes, sir” or “no, sir.”

Stefani just lay there and stared at the lady who lived in the apartment above her as the woman began screaming. It looked as though the lady’s boyfriend had kicked the door in. The lady screamed so loudly. Stefani wondered if she knew how to whisper. There were certain places where you were required to use your inside voice.

She closed her eyes, and her mind began to wander to England again. It would be nice to visit Bath. Maybe when she was rich, she could even fly first class. The girl that sat next to her in school said she had flown first class with her parents once, and it was really awesome. You got all the free sodas you wanted.

Stefani liked soda. She couldn’t imagine being in a place where they had all the free soda you could drink. Wouldn’t that be amazing?

“It’s ok, Stef. Go ahead. You can do it.”

“My name is Stefani Hernandez.”

Stefani had to stop for a minute and brush the tears away from her face.

“Take your time, honey. None of us is in a rush. Take as much time as you need.”

Stefani sat in a circle of 10 plastic chairs. They all faced each other, and eight were filled with other women just like herself. The last chair held their group counselor. Stefani had been coming to this group for a very long time, but she couldn’t remember ever having spoken a word.

Everyone encouraged her to try, but part of the issue was her memory. She couldn’t tell them what she didn’t know. Her amnesia ended this morning. This morning, Stefani turned 21; and, for some reason, she felt reborn. With her rebirth came the flooding onslaught of what had occurred.

“Remember, Stef, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. You can go at your own pace. There’s no rush.”

“I NEED TO DO THIS!” she yelled before realizing she was even screaming. “Please, I really need to do this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling,” she stammered through her tears.

“My name is Stefani Hernandez,” she started again. She began crying uncontrollably. The woman next to her held her hand out, and Stefani grabbed it. She knew she squeezed too hard, but she just couldn’t stop. She really needed the support.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to say through her chapped lips and chafed mouth. “I just really need to do this. Please, God, I just need to say it.”

Everyone in the room was silent. They had all been there themselves. The self-judgment, denial, pain, hurt, all the emotions jumbled together – they confused you. They all knew exactly what Stefani was going through. Most of the group had been abused as children. Some of them were at different stages of healing. But all of them had called this in-house care program for the abused their home for several years.

They were as much of a family as any family could ever be. They knew what she was going through. She seemed to have had it worse than most of them. But how can you really judge this kind of pain? Stefani was still young, though; and at 21, maybe she would be left with a chance at a full, healthy life. Well, maybe a full life at least.

“My name is Stefani Hernandez,” she blurted out this time. “and I was…I was… I was abused.”

She had trouble choking the words through her mouth. It didn’t seem fair that this was the price she had to keep paying. But they told her the only way for her to fully heal was to face her fear. She had to face what happened; and then, she would finally be able to move on.

“My name is Stefani Hernandez,” she said more forcefully this time. She found her feet again, her legs flexed, and she felt her muscles contract.

“My name is Stefani Hernandez…, and I was abused as a child!”

Everyone stood up with her the second she finished. They grouped around her and hugged her. They were all wailing in unison now.  They each shared the nightmare. They all knew intimately what every single one of them had gone through. They were a family.

“That was an amazing job,” Staci said. Staci had been their leader for the last 18 months. She’d worked extensively with Stefani who had been nothing more than a shell when she arrived.

“Today is Stefani’s birthday?” somebody asked. “I didn’t even know. Why doesn’t anyone tell me these things?”

“If you ever paid attention to anyone but yourself, you might be aware what was going on,” another person laughingly chided as she wiped away her own tears.

Now that the ice was broken, Stefani would need a lot of time to heal. But today was the first big step. She had acknowledged what had happened. She was now ready to face her demons and move on.

Her mother, father, and brother were all killed when she was 10. Nobody knew exactly how it occurred, but the speculation was the father abused the kids, and most likely the mother, for years.

Stefani’s neighbors found her curled up on the kitchen floor, and everyone else was dead in one of the back bedrooms. It had been a nightmare.

Stefani had been in state-run hospitals for years afterward, mostly on drugs of some sort or another. If it weren’t for a privately funded outreach program, she might still remain locked behind the mesh-screened windows.

Staci found her when she was doing an intern program, and after she graduated had nominated Stefani as a candidate for a free scholarship. Stefani had won.

Now she was drug-free and taking her first steps toward the rest of her life. She still had a long way to go; but as Staci stood back, watching her amazing group of women, she couldn’t control the emotional upheaval erupting inside of her.

“Her name is Stefani Hernandez,” she whispered, with tears streaming down her face, “and today she begins her new life.”

It was almost 12 months later, and Stefani closed in on her 22
^nd
birthday. Her big day was tomorrow, and she faced the most daunting trip of her entire life. She had no idea how she managed to get so lucky over the past year, but somehow her future had turned around for the better.

Staci sat down with her a month ago and told her the news. She still had a difficult time comprehending what it all meant.

“You know this is a private mental health care facility,” Staci began.

“Sure,” Stefani responded. “You’ve made mention of that a few times.”

“Well,” Staci continued, “One of our elderly benefactors has always taken an interest in you. I never told you, but when you were pulled out of the state facility, it was he who offered to pay your expenses. At the time, he called it a scholarship. We were all so excited for you that none of us even questioned it. He really is a wonderful man.”

“A few months ago, he passed away, and you were mentioned in his will. We haven’t wanted to tell you up until now, but he left you a few instructions, a sealed envelope, an airplane ticket and, I am saving the best for last -- $10 million dollars in a trust fund set aside just for you. You’re wealthy, Stefani. The world is yours to conquer.”

When Staci finished telling her all the news, Stefani had been overwhelmed. It didn’t seem possible for her to have come so far and have somebody out there in the world that had taken care of her from a distance. Her only regret was never having the opportunity to meet this man. This incredible person who reached out from beyond this world and gave her something she couldn’t imagine. He gave her a new lease on life – a new beginning.

The airplane ticket was for London, and he had arranged a tour for her to see Stonehenge. It was actually a first class ticket on British Airways. By now so many people had heard her story; it was almost as if this incredible being were trying to help her find the last step in her healing process. Maybe by taking the trip she had dreamed of so many times, she would completely rid herself of any past baggage.

She was to fly out today and would be in England tomorrow afternoon on her 22nd birthday. She was supposed to leave the manila envelope sealed until she reached Stonehenge.

“The instructions are very specific,” Staci said. “The envelope must remain closed until you get to Stonehenge. You can only open it at the time specified on the instructions.”

Staci laughed a little at that. “It does seem a little late to be hanging out with a bunch of rocks, but those are the conditions of the trust and the will,” she added. “For $10 million, I wouldn’t have any problems doing it myself!”

She had laughed again.

Stefani debated over the following month about what to do, trying to understand if she were ready and what the trip would mean. Would it be more healing or would it harm her in a way she didn’t understand. In the end, she decided it was something she had to do, and she had to do it on her own. It was the final hurdle in her road to recovery.

Now that her day was here, she was nervous. She hugged everyone goodbye, got in a cab, and headed to the airport. Staci offered to ride with her and help her get on the plane. But this was something Stefani wanted to do alone.

Her hotel accommodations had already been arranged. A car would pick her up at Heathrow airport. There weren’t too many ways for Stefani to get sidetracked. Her elderly watchman had taken care of all the details.

As Stefani rode to her big adventure, her only nagging regret, still, was never having met this man. What a wonderful human being he must’ve been. She wondered if he were a father, and if so what were his children like?

When Stefani finished checking in at the airport, she decided it was appropriate she have at least one drink in the First Class Lounge. It was exactly like she had imagined it, so serene, quiet, and elite. She sat at the bar and ordered a Bloody Mary. There was a guy sitting next to her, and she asked him under her breath, “Do you know why they call them Bloody Marys?”

“I’m sorry, did you say something, miss?” he responded.

“No, just talking to myself,” she said. She hadn’t really wanted to talk to anyone; she just thought the irony was a little too meaningful not to say something.

When she boarded the airplane, it was exactly as she imagined it to be. A flower sat by her seat, there were flowers in the bathroom; artwork hung on the walls.  It was strange how everything seemed so much like her fantasies. Even the chairs were as amazing as she remembered, well not remembered, but imagined.

She was glad her elderly tour guide had arranged a car for her when she arrived in London. She didn’t want to be forced to navigate the driving escapade alone. It was so much more relaxing sitting in the back, staring out the window as the scenery flashed by.

As they approached Stonehenge, she even saw a few cows grazing off in a pasture. They looked as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

Since she arrived a few hours before her designated time, she leisurely strolled around the grounds. Her heart beat at such a rapid pace. The view of the rocks as they came into sight took her breath away. When she’d walked close enough, she came to an abrupt halt and just stood there.

Stefani stared. She just couldn’t stop staring. She knew that other people wondered what she saw, and most likely they would never understand. But she also knew she didn’t care.

Stefani’s life didn’t begin until she was 21, and the words she’d spoken would always remain ingrained in her soul. She knew they were part of who she was, but they would in no way ever define her again.

“My name is Stefani Hernandez, and I was abused as a child.”

She knew the power of those words. You could let them beat you, or you could stand up and fight them. She might have to fight them every day for the rest of her life, but she knew she would do just that.

Some days were better than others. Today was a mixture of both. She stood there and stared, wiping the tears from her eyes.

As she paused on the path surrounding Stonehenge, she didn’t fully understand why it held such meaning for her. Sure, she understood she associated her posters with her abuse. She understood she had used it to escape what was happening at the time, but she also knew it was just a symbol. She had already begun to conquer the reality. She didn’t know why the symbol still held such meaning.

It was really an amazing place when you thought about it. Tons and tons of rocks moved to the middle of a field long before anyone had any vehicles or cranes. It was billed as a miracle, a miracle that was unexplainable. Stefani knew to a certain extent this was true. It was a miracle. It was a symbol. Not for the bad things that happened to her, but for the good that could come from moving on with her life.

Stefani decided it was time for the first step, and she reached inside her pocket and pulled something out. She’d somehow kept it all these years. Without realizing it, this object had managed to make it through all of the stages of her life.

It was one of the little metal gargoyles. It was only about an inch tall. But as a child, she had seen it as being so much bigger. Everything in life seems different when you’re a child – both for better and for worse.

She looked at Dennis, her little gargoyle. He wasn’t even that pretty, really. Actually, are any gargoyles pretty? As she looked at him, she smiled, realizing she didn’t have any need for him anymore. He had helped her through times she had faced in the past, but now she needed to put that behind her.

She kissed the top of his head. Then, she leaned over the small chain and tossed him as far as she could amongst the stones. She wasn’t supposed to do that, she was sure. But, what the heck? How much trouble could she possible get in?

The park was getting ready to close, and her instructions had been very specific. She was now to return to the car and open the envelope. She was to read the contents and wait for two hours. At exactly 9:30 p.m., she was to come back to the circle and enter it, sitting on the slab in the middle.

Apparently, the guards had all been well paid to allow her free access to do anything she chose. She wondered to herself if she would be so influential in getting her way in the future. She was, after all, a millionaire. How would she spend that money when she returned home? She was giddy thinking about it sometimes.

When she crawled into the back seat, her driver had already raised the partition, giving her complete privacy. She was now on her own to open the secret documents. She wondered what in the world it could possibly be.

She cracked the seal and pulled out the first piece of paper. It was a birth certificate. The name on it was Stefani Sanders. Her name had originally been Stefani Sanders. She didn’t understand why somebody would have given her a copy of her birth certificate.

As she glanced down she noticed the date, and the year caught her eye.
1989.  
That didn’t make any sense at all. Stefani was born in 1988. She was turning 22 today, and it was 2010. If she were born in 1989, she would now be turning 21. She felt her hands beginning to get clammy, and her breathing came more rapidly.

She looked in the envelope, and at the bottom was a necklace. Attached to the necklace was a ring. It was the ring in her dreams. The same ring from her imagined nightmares. She didn’t understand what was happening.