Sanctity (11 page)

Our new home was in subdivision just a few
miles from the highway.  Each of the houses was set back from
the main road and seemed to have been placed in little alcoves that
were cut into the surrounding forest.  Though Michael was out
of town at the time he had recommended the area to my father over
the phone one night when my dad told him that we were thinking
about moving.  My parents fell in love with the neighborhood
and ended up buying the very first house they viewed there.

As we pulled into the driveway I could see
that the movers were wasting no time and were getting ready to
unload our furniture.  Most of our old belongings came with us
to the new house and some had been replaced.  Since we had
extra rooms my parents bought a number of new furnishings as
well.  The new rooms were already filled up since the
furniture store had made their delivery earlier in the week. 
Those were the first I looked over before running upstairs to see
my own room. 

It was much bigger than my old room and
painted a light, buttery yellow.  It had a small balcony just
like my old bedroom but instead of a slider there were two French
doors that led onto it.  There was also a small walk-in
closet, not as big as my parent’s old one but even with all my
clothes and other belongings there would still be plenty of room
leftover.  I also had my own bathroom attached to my bedroom
with a small vanity, a shower and tub as well.  It all seemed
very spacious and a little overwhelming to me.  I was used to
the close, coziness of my old room so my new room
felt empty by comparison.

After giving it a thorough inspection I
wandered back downstairs.  I watched as my parents directed
the moving men as to where they wanted certain things placed. 
I didn’t want to get in the way but I wasn’t sure what I should be
doing while everyone else was busy.  My dad saw me milling
about and suggested that I do a little exploring and take a walk in
the woods around our new home.  “Just don’t go too far, you
should be alright as long as you can see the house.”

I took his advice and made an exploratory
circuit from the front yard to the back.  I stepped a few feet
into the woods that bordered the lawn and made my way the length of
the backyard before I moved a few more feet in and looped
back.  I did this several times - moved a little further into
the trees, looped, a little further.  It was nice in the
woods; cool and fresh.  There were quite a few fallen trees
and broken limbs lying on the ground as well as a heavy covering of
old leaves.  It smelled very earthy there and as I got further
in it got a little darker as the trees and their leaves blocked out
the sun.  I thought I might be able to see some of our
neighbor’s houses if I went far enough but the woods were a lot
bigger than I imagined they would be.

I could still see our house but I knew I
should probably make my way back just to be safe.  I came
out at a different point than where I went in and noticed an aging
swing set tucked into the corner of the yard.  There was also
a little flower bed to the left of the swings that seemed to be
made up mostly of wildflowers.  One of the flowers in
particular caught my eye.  It was something called a tiger
lily and for some reason it struck a chord with me.  I walked
over and snapped one of the stalks and took the flower with me as I
headed into the house. 

“Hey sweetie, what have you got there?” my
mom asked.

“It’s a tiger lily, I think.”

“It certainly is.  Is it for me?”

“Oh,” I paused somewhat reluctant to give it
away, “yes, it’s for you,” I smiled and handed the flower to
her.

“Thank you so much; I’ll put it in some
water and set it on the dining room table to cheer us through
dinner.”

I looked around and saw that the movers had
gotten nearly everything into our new home.  It was starting
to come together and beginning to take on a familiar air with
so many of our old belongings placed in as similar an arrangement
as each of the rooms would allow. 

My mother brought the flower to the kitchen
and put it in a long, thin vase.  She handed it to me, “Would
you put this on the dining room table for me?”

I took the vase from her and transferred it
to the dining room before heading back to the kitchen.  “Is
there anything I can do?”  I was bored and everyone else was
busy arranging furniture, putting stuff away in cabinets and so
forth. 

“I think the movers may have put some of
your things in your room, why don’t you go and see if you can
manage finding a place for some of them.”

“OK,” I said, not thrilled with the prospect
but happy to have something to pass the time.

I went upstairs and made my way to the first
of the boxes marked with my name.  I opened it and found that
it contained my book collection.  I skimmed over the titles
and began placing them on the bookshelf one by one.  It didn’t
take long to empty the box and start on the next.  The time
seemed to be passing all too slowly and I began to wonder how long
it would be before dinner.  It was starting to get dark out,
so I knew it must be close to when we would normally eat.  As
I finished with the last of my boxes my mother came to my
doorway.  “I think we need a break, Daddy suggested we go out
for pizza, what do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

“Good, let’s get going, shall we?”

She motioned me out of my bedroom and down
the stairs.  My father was waiting at the front door looking
as though he could thoroughly use a little distraction from moving
too.  Once we were out everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of
relief.  I was sure my parents had been working much harder
than I had and so I was doubly glad to be getting out and for them
to be taking a break.  I felt like we had been disconnected
throughout the whole house buying and moving process and wished
things would hurry up and get back to normal.

It was only a short drive to get to the
local pizza shop and after we placed our order we all sat around
for a moment reflecting on our own personal concerns.  My dad
perked up after a few minutes, “I almost forgot!  Mr. Donovan
will be back soon.”

“Oh, well that’s good, you’ll finally have a
chance to work face to face,” my mother chuckled.

“I was wondering, how would you feel about
inviting him to dinner one night, to welcome him home?
 Besides, I’m sure he would enjoy the company right
now.”

“I think that would be a very nice gesture,”
she smiled.  “When will he be back?”

“He hasn’t said exactly, the 19th or the
20th, I believe.”

“Hmm, Elayna’s birthday is that weekend; it
would have to be sometime after. 

“Well, I’ll leave that for you to decide
then.  Just let me know which day is best and I’ll make
sure to mention it to Michael when I see him.”

Before they could discuss it any
further our pizza arrived.  Everyone was hungry and as soon as
we were each served we all dug in.  “Michael,” I thought the
name softly to myself.  It didn’t happen often but whenever
either of my parents called Mr. Donovan by his first name I felt a
twinge of happiness surge through me.  It was like the name
had some secret significance to me and I could never recall what it
is. 

We finished our dinner and paid our
check.  Once we were home my mother told me that it was later
than she thought and I should go ahead and get ready for bed. 
I was a little hesitant to try falling asleep on my own in the new
house so I went back downstairs afterwards.  My parents had
decided to put off any more work on the house until the next day
and were relaxing in the living room.  I wandered up to my mom
and asked if she would come sit with me for a bit. 

“Of course, sweetie,” she answered.

I led the way back to my bedroom and she
tucked me in. 

“Would you like me to read you a story?”

“No, not tonight.  Would you just keep
me company until I am sleepy?”

“Sure.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and took my
hand.  I smiled and whispered “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

It took a few more days for my parents to
get the house in order.  My dad went back to work that Monday
and I went back to school so my mom actually did most of it. 
She said she didn’t mind and that it was easier to get things done
when no one else was around.  By Wednesday she had managed to
find a place for all our belongings and to have made any final
adjustments as to the positioning of the furniture. 

Not long after we were settled my parents
began encouraging me to go to bed without having one of them come
tuck me in.  I felt uncomfortable with the suggestion but they
said that I was getting older and sooner or later I would have to
get used to the idea.  The Thursday before my birthday they
insisted I give it a try.  I was reluctant but agreed since I
was feeling very grown up knowing that I was going to be 9 years
old the very next day.  My parents looked relieved when I
said Goodnight and scurried up the stairs and into my
room. 

I closed my bedroom door all the way and
turned the closet light on.  Then I adjusted the door so that
there would be enough light to make out everything in my room and
crawled beneath the covers.  

I was very nervous and I hoped that I would
fall asleep quickly.  I tried to keep my thoughts busy so I
wouldn’t be so worrisome while I fell asleep.  I imagined what
my party would be like and who would be there and thought about
what kinds of gifts I hoped to receive.  I wondered if I might
get breakfast in bed Friday morning or something special in my
lunch bag to wish me a Happy Birthday.  As I considered
those ideas and thought about cake and ice cream I blissfully fell
sound asleep.

Hours later I suddenly had the sensation
that I was being lifted up and found myself wide awake and being
held too tightly.  I was not at all frightened though and
answered the hug with an enthusiastic one of my own.

 “Michael,” I buried my face in his
neck, “you’ve come back!”

“Oh, I’ve missed you,” he whispered into my
hair.

I didn’t know what to say, he had been out
of my thoughts for so long.  My memories rippled across my
mind as they always did whenever we were suddenly reunited.  I
was overwhelmed by the spectrum of my emotions.  I was happy
and sad and excited and curious and so on and on.

“Happy Birthday,” he said.

“It’s not until tomorrow,” I corrected.

“Ah, but it is tomorrow,” I could feel his
smile against my cheek.  “It’s after midnight.”

I pulled back and looked him in the eye, “Is
that why you came?”

“Of course it is!”

I wiggled to let him know to put me down, “I
need to see you,” I said as I crossed the floor to my closet. 
I opened the door to let some extra light into my room and whirled
about to examine him.  He looked better than I ever remembered
seeing him.

“I’m so happy,” I said, knowing that he had
been strong and hoping that I was the reason why.

“You are,” he smiled intercepting my
thought.

“I‘m so sorry about your father,
Michael.”

“It’s OK, we weren’t that close.  I
just wanted to see my mother and make sure that she was well and to
help her as best I could while she needed me.”

“How is she?”

“She is doing much better now.  I told
her about you.”

“You did?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from
my voice. 

He smiled so intensely that I couldn’t help
but reflect his happiness in my own smile.  “She knows that I
have not been the nicest of people since…” he paused searching for
an appropriate phrasing for what he wanted to say, “since before I
met you.  I needed to let her know that I had changed and the
reason why.”

I was tickled with the idea of being so
influential.

He looked around my room.  “Do you like
it?”

“Oh, yes, very much!”

He smiled warmly then his expression
suddenly changed, “Get dressed,” he said and the way he said it
convinced me that he had something special in store for me.

“Really?”

“Really!”

He was so confident and carefree that I
couldn’t begin to resist.  I walked into my closet and closed
the door behind me.  I changed from my pajamas into a pair of
jeans and a t-shirt.

“Grab a sweater too,” he gently called to
me.

When I was done getting dressed he scooped
me up and within half a moment we were outside and across the lawn,
down the driveway and to the main road.  He set me down and
just as I was wondering what his intentions were I caught a glimpse
of a motorcycle parked just off to the right of where we were
standing.  I had never been on a motorcycle before and I felt
a little nervous at the prospect especially as I studied the one
before me. 

It looked very fast, like it was made for a
race track and not for a spin around town.  Michael tucked my
hair behind my ears and placed a helmet on my head.  He
buckled the chin strap and slid the visor down over my eyes. 
It was quite dark out so I remember being thankful that the lens
was clear and I could still see as well as I normally would at
night.

He performed the same routine on himself
then straddled the bike and had me climb up behind him.  He
positioned my feet on the tiny platforms and told me to hold
tight.  He started the motorcycle and eased it onto the
roadway and we were off into the night.

At first he kept a safe, moderate
pace.  I was nervous and pressed myself as tightly as possible
against Michael’s back while the wind whizzed by tangling my hair
where it escaped from beneath the helmet.  I watched the trees
and street lamps zip past and smiled as I realized how very wrong
of me it was to be out like that.  I felt guilty but quickly
abandoned the thought because of the fun I was having.  After
a few minutes we reached the interchange for the highway and
Michael eased the bike through the sharp corners of the on
ramp.