Behind the Mask (31 page)

At dinner, Cameron once again had a meal put in front of him that he couldn’t eat without help. Couldn’t she make stew or something? He knew from experience that a humble request for her assistance was the only way he’d get anything to eat without being barbaric. While she was cutting his food into bite-sized pieces, he said, “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you.”

Abbi couldn’t hold back a little smile. “Yes, actually. I believe I am.” Her expression sobered. “But don’t worry, Cameron. You’ll be healed soon enough. And winter is half over. I’ll be gone before you know it, and then you can have your pleasant little life here back to normal.”

Cameron swallowed hard to keep from coming back at her with anger. He finally asked, “Do you really believe that’s what I want?”

Abbi finished her task and sat down. “Do I have any reason to believe otherwise?”

“Do you intend to make every meal a drama?” he asked, if only to divert attention from the question.

“If that’s what it takes.”

“If you’ve got something you want to say, Abbi, just get to the point.”

“All right, I will. In spite of some rare tender moments, I have every reason to believe that I am little more than a curse to you.” He opened his mouth to protest but she didn’t give him a chance. “Be patient, my friend, and I’ll be gone before you know it. Then you can crawl back into the hole you’ve carved here for yourself. You can hide from the world outside, and never worry about all of the people out there who might hate you or do you harm.”

“Do I have any choices beyond hiding in this hole, Abbi?”

“There are
always
choices, Cameron. I don’t need to know the details of why you’re here to know that you’ve become content to stay put. So be it. Stay here and
rot!
You’ll never have to deal with anyone’s anger but your own. But you’ll never have anyone to care for you except yourself, which seems to be fine except in cases of debilitating injuries. Just keep up this attitude, Cameron, and you can dwindle away in self-pity and despair, and die here in this hole, unloved and unremembered.”

Abbi took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. “Cameron,” she pleaded, “there may not be any good reason for you to have faith right now. But you’ve got to have faith, anyway.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he said with harsh cynicism.

“If not faith, at least hope.”

“What do I have to hope for?”

“I don’t know!” she shouted. “I don’t know what the future holds for either of us. I only know that no one, especially not me, can pave a clear path for you to have a future beyond this. You have to fight your way out of here, Cameron. That’s why I’m here. Can’t you see that?”

“What?” His laugh was caustic and she wanted to slap him. “You’re here to tell me that you can’t do anything to change my future? Is this supposed to surprise me? Did you think that—”

Abbi leaned over the table and took hold of his chin. “Will you shut up and listen to me? I’m here to give you hope, Cameron. And that’s
all
I can give you. As long as you remain encircled with pride and fear, hope is the very best you can get from me. But only if you reach out and take it. What you do with the rest of your life is up to you. But for the remainder of this winter, I will not get caught up in your emotional battles. You’re not the only one this is affecting anymore, Cameron,” she finished softly, “but only you can change it.”

“How?” he asked, and immediately regretted his sharp tone when Abbi’s eyes turned brittle. She sighed and started up the stairs, clearly demonstrating that she had reached her limit.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“I can’t take it anymore!”

“Don’t walk out on me!” he shouted. She only shot him a fearless glare and kept going. “Abbi! Come back here!” She ignored his anger and paused a moment on the landing. “Talk to me, Abbi!” he demanded.

“I’ve tried,” she said, disappearing into the bedroom.

Cameron felt like throwing something. Instead he kicked a chair and watched it fall and slide across the floor. Then he paced the room, his thoughts racing. He knew she was right. Why did she always have to be so blasted
right?

He finally put the chair in place and sat back down, certain Abbi would return and finish her dinner. But she didn’t. He felt little appetite himself. He looked around at the uneaten meal and the unwashed dishes, thinking how pathetic his life had become. Could that be the reason Abbi’s presence made him so uncomfortable? She was like some kind of barometer, unconsciously measuring the balance of life, making it clear that it had no balance at all.

Cameron managed to clear the table with one hand and feed the scraps to the dogs. He tried to clean the dishes, but his head pounded with the memory of Abbi’s heated words, while his hand protested at any attempt to use it. He felt useless. The thought struck him uncomfortably deep and he leaned his head against the wall, groaning from a reality he didn’t want to admit to. He
was
useless—but not just because he couldn’t use his best hand. No, it went far deeper than that. He had no purpose, nothing to live for. That was certainly no surprise. He’d reconciled with death long before Abbi got lost in that blizzard, but perhaps it wasn’t death he feared; perhaps it was living. If he
could
find something to live for, he would inevitably have to face all that had been so easy to let go of when he’d made the decision long ago to end his own life and leave this world behind.

As Cameron’s thoughts churned, leaving him physically weak, he doused the lantern in the kitchen and lumbered toward the rug beside the fireplace. He collapsed onto his side, fighting without success to be free of familiar thoughts that would not relent. Something about Abbi’s outburst made it impossible to deny the presence of his most intimate companions: fear and pride. They stood at his sides like armed sentinels, protecting him from anything or anyone that might tempt him to look inside himself, where the truth lay hiding like some great beast in hibernation. And Cameron knew the beast well.
Pain
. Yes, that was the truth of his existence. Fear and pride existed to protect the pain.

The very thought urged the beast closer to the surface. Cameron moaned and curled up as bruising memories marched through his mind, each one prompting a tangible pang in the deepest part of him. From the difficulties of his childhood, through the years he had fought to become the man he had believed he should be, only to be knocked down and kicked out like some beaten dog. The hours of the night wore on as every hurt in Cameron’s life returned to taunt him, inflicting pain that was too literal to be imagined; pain that made his bruised and swollen fingers seem like nothing. He cried like a child, and cursed those who had wronged him. And he cursed God for leaving him to wallow in this hell on earth, alone for years with nothing but tortured memories to haunt him. He felt himself being swallowed into an endless black pit of despair that made death all the more appealing, if only to release him from his relentless misery.

Then, like a pin-hole of light in an otherwise black sky, Abbi’s presence appeared in his mind, just as she had appeared in his life. She’d come out of nowhere, threatening his pride and fear, challenging them to stand aside and let his pain show itself. He’d cursed her very existence, at the same time wanting only to hold her in his arms and allow her to perform the painful surgery that would free him of the cancer eating away at his soul.

Groping for the light she offered, Cameron encouraged thoughts of her to come forward. He was amazed at how quickly and thoroughly she filled every crack and crevice of his mind, clearing out the ugliness of his life, dusting away the cobwebs of pain and fear, leaving pride discarded by the wayside, exposed for the traitor that it was. He wondered what he would ever do when she left him, but he was surprised in that moment to realize that even in her absence, the places once occupied by jaded intruders were now filled with hope.
Hope
. How could she not give him hope when her presence alone was evidence that God was mindful of him? Oh, he’d been so blind! He’d been a blind fool!

“Abbi.” He said her name aloud, as if he could will her closer by his thoughts alone. Newer, fresh memories now filled his mind. Each moment he’d spent with Abbi recounted itself before him like a great vision, replacing darkness with light—an intense, blinding, undeniable light. And again he cried, but not in anguish. These tears were prompted by joy, purging him of all fear and misery. And he praised God—for sparing his life, for giving him the strength to survive, and most of all, for sending him hope. For sending him Abbi.

In his pride, Cameron had wanted to believe that Abbi’s intrusion in his life was happenstance, or if God
had
sent her it was only meant to punish or torment him with some kind of test he could never pass. Or perhaps he’d believed that God had simply answered Abbi’s prayers by sending him to save her life when she had nearly died in the snow. But now he could see the truth. There had been a time when he had prayed fervently for something to end his loneliness. Was he such a fool not to recognize Abbi as the answer to his prayers? Could he not see that God was merciful and compassionate enough to send her to him, even when he had given up faith?

Dawn gradually filtered into the room. Night had passed, and Cameron hadn’t slept even a moment, but he didn’t feel tired in the least. He felt rejuvenated and replenished. He felt alive again. He watched his surroundings brighten, in awe of the opportunity before him to have another day, a new beginning. It was impossible to see anything beyond this day, but he had the hope that with time his uncluttered mind could now find a way to create a life for himself once again. He prayed for the strength to discern the first step toward that life, and he prayed for the courage to take it.

Filled with unexplainable energy, Cameron rose and went to the desk, digging in it until he found his journal. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d written in it. But now, there was so much he wanted to record. He maneuvered a pen into his tender fingers and found that he could manage to write with only minor discomfort. It was labored and slow at first, but he felt blessed as his hand loosened up and the words of his heart flowed onto the pages. He hoped that, in the future, when difficulties arose, reading about the way he felt now would carry him through.

More than an hour later, Cameron stopped writing. He had to pry the pen from between his fingers, then he put some water on to heat so that he could soak his aching hand. While it soaked he heard a noise upstairs. His heart quickened at a reality he’d almost forgotten, having been so caught up in his emotions. Abbi was here. She was alive and real. She was hope personified. There was enough winter left to give him the chance to redeem himself, to glean her wisdom and strength, to take full advantage of all she could give to him. And perhaps most important, to somehow find a way to repay her for all that she’d done for him. If only he knew how! He uttered a silent prayer for help in guiding him to meet Abbi’s needs, to give her all that he might be capable of giving.

Cameron took a deep, sustaining breath. He lifted his hand out of the water and curled it into a fist just as the bedroom door came open and Abbi glided down the stairs. She hurried past him without meeting his eyes and began to work in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he said, wishing he knew how to tell her that he wasn’t the same man she’d walked out on last night. But every attempt to gather words to describe his experience sounded so foolish.

“Good morning,” she replied, still not looking at him. A moment later she asked, “How’s your hand?”

“Doing better, I believe,” he said. “Thank you for asking.” When she didn’t respond he added, “Look at this.” She hesitated and turned slowly toward him as he lifted his hand, watching him open and close his fist as if it were a magical feat. He smiled as she fell for his ploy to get her to look his way.

“Impressive,” she said tonelessly, turning to clear last night’s dirty dishes in order to prepare breakfast.

Cameron dried his hand and walked toward her. “You don’t look so good. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well.”

“Lack of sleep must be an epidemic around here.” He chuckled but she didn’t even crack a smile. He cleared his throat tensely. “There’s something I need to say to you, Abbi.” She gasped when he took both her hands into his. He looked into her eyes and had no idea
what
to say. How could he possibly express such complicated emotions? Then a simple thought occurred to him that seemed sufficient for the moment. “I need to ask your forgiveness. I’ve been terribly unfair with you. I shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you, and I’m truly sorry.”

Abbi wondered if this was just one more tender moment that would disappear with his change of moods, but she accepted it for what it was, compelled to add the thoughts that had plagued her through the night. “Perhaps,” she said, “I am equally to blame. Perhaps I should keep my dreams to myself and mind my business. Perhaps I should remember that you got along fine without me before I came, and when I leave again you’ll—”

“But I didn’t, Abbi.” He took her shoulders into his hands. “Don’t you see? I didn’t get along fine without you. I was . . .” He stopped as it became evident that the words threatening to tumble into the open were still too new and fragile to share. He drew a deep sigh and touched her face with his fingertips. “I thank God that one of us has the ability to dream, Abbi. And the strength to believe in dreams. Don’t stop dreaming, Abbi. And whatever you do, don’t give up hope.”

Abbi’s eyes widened as she attempted to grasp what he was saying
. “You
are telling
me
to have hope?”

Cameron’s smile warmed Abbi through—a smile so peaceful and serene that his face nearly glowed. He pressed a kiss to her brow, murmuring softly, “You
are
hope, Abbi.”

A moment later he began cleaning the dirty dishes, though rather awkwardly with his hurt hand. They worked together in silence while Abbi wondered what kind of magic had taken place in him. He was changed. She didn’t know how or why, and only time would tell if it would last. But she found strength being near him. Her dwindling hope felt renewed in his presence. She only prayed that it might continue.