The Vengeance (8 page)

He was caught, her fingers smoothing over the metal and resting on the chipped spot. He hadn’t realized where the medal had truly come from or how valuable it was to her. What was he supposed to say now, he wondered?

“Fine. You gave it to me.”

“I wouldn’t just give this to a person I
barely knew. It belonged to my mother. It’s the only thing of importance I have left of her. Why are you lying to me? What the hell is going on?”

Addie was back – the Addie he knew. The fierce, stubborn, angry hell raiser who didn’t back down stood in front of him again. Only, she still didn’t remember him.

“We were getting close, Addie. We were – but it was a mistake.”

“I was a mistake?” she whispered as her rage turned to shock.

She’d been a lot of things in life and made a lot of wrong choices – but she’d never actually considered herself someone’s mistake.

“No! Don’t twist my words!”

“Then spit them out!”

AJ was tired, flustered, and hated lying. Each mistruth that
flew out of his mouth he pledged silently in his mind to run one hundred miles in repentance for. He wasn’t good at lying. The truth was easier to remember, that was for certain.

“I am the mistake Addie! I won’t be here long. My life is not a settling down kind. We had talked and I decided to move on to a new place,” he said, pointing towards the duffle bag atop the bed. “You gave this to me… to keep me safe. To remember you with. That’s all it was.”

She had been the one who lied, he thought. She said she’d bought it.

“You told me you bought it,” he whispered, fingering the chain in the hopes of finding the tiny claw clasp that held it together. “I can’t leave and take this with, knowing it was your mother’s. Here, take it back. I’m so sorry Addie, I never meant to hurt you,” he mumbled as he fumbled with the chain’s clasp. “I swear. If I could go back I would take all of this away and just leave you to live your life without me.”

He pushed the necklace towards her, sliding it across the tabletop between them. She reached for it, stopping her hand mid-way before placing her hand on top of his. Silence filled the room for what seemed like minutes, yet was likely mere seconds.

“No,” she said, looking down. She didn’t want to catch his gaze. “You keep it. If I gave it to you, it’s because I wanted you to have it. I may not remember why, but you are obviously important enough to have it.”

They sat frozen and staring at each other.

“Did I
… did I love you?”

AJ breathed in deeply, the air inflating his lungs and puffing out his chest, making him look larger than life.

“I don’t know,” he said, adding another one hundred miles to the tally. “I don’t know.”

“Did you love me?”

It was a hopeful question, as if she were hoping his answer was yes. She wondered briefly if that’s what her dream had been about – maybe she had seen him as a savior who would change her life and that’s why the sky cleared up and he replaced the menacing figure the dream had started with.

“Addie
, stop.”

“Just tell me the truth. I can take it.”

AJ glanced out the window and saw Gram in the front yard welcoming Matthew home. He saw her glance up at the window. The look on her face said it all – she needed him to go. To leave them be.

“Addie, we hadn’t known each other very long. Especially not long enough to know something like that.”

“Oh.” She didn’t fight him or question him further. “Then I guess it’s probably pretty good I don’t remember anything, huh?” She stood up and pushed the chair in, a hint of sadness in her voice. “I mean, you can just pack up and go, essentially missing nothing, while I stay here and only have to miss knowing what happened the last three months of my life. The things I’ve done in the last three months, which are probably more epic than anyone seems to be letting on considering you have my medallion and no one has any straight answers for me. At least I was able to forget everything we
don’t
have.” The tone was angrily sarcastic, and she regretted her words the instant they escaped her mouth.

A slamming screen door broke their conversation and concentration
and Addie welcomed the excuse to make her way out of his room.

“That must be Helen and Matthew,” she said. “I’d better go. Take care AJ.”

“Addie, I’d feel better if you take the medallion back. It’s part of your family.”

“Keep it,” she said, her back towards him and her shoulders hunched forward as if she were ready to bolt out of there at any moment. Her feet stood still, a statue to the ground. “It seems to find its way to people who walk out of my life. I don’t think I’ll want to give it to anyone else.”

The shattering of his heart had to be audible, he thought. It sure felt loud enough to echo the world.

“How much for a room?” the old man asked, standing across the beat-up counter of Bob’s auto shop.

“Well sir, it’s actually a whole house. If you want a single room, there’s a B&B up the street that I can point you to.”

“A house would be better. I like my privacy. How much?”

“How long are you staying?” Bob countered.

“A month. Maybe more. I’m just chasing the breeze, looking for a new place to settle down. This one sort of called out to me.”

“Lee has a way of doing that.” Bob picked up a ring with keys on it and pulled two off. “Here’s a form for you to fill out. Nothing too detailed, just a phone number and contract to pay for anything broken while you’re there.”

The gentleman scanned the paper quickly, scrawling his signature in nearly unrecognizable handwriting across the bottom.

“Here you go,” Bob said, sliding the brass keys across the counter. “This one is the front; that one is for the back door. Rent is due on the first of the month, every month. Stay as long as you like. Don’t cause trouble. If you need anything, you can find me here.”

He’d only rented out the house a handful of times but knew the script. He’d only come up with a contract the day after Devin had left abruptly without paying. He placed the remaining clanking key ring back into the pocket of his coveralls, looking at the newcomer again.

“Where did you say you were from?”

“Nowhere in particular. I’m a drifter, I guess.”

“Town’s been getting a lot of those lately,” Bob replied, thinking of all the meanderers wandering around. Max, Devin, AJ
, and now this guy.

“That’s what I hear.” The snicker in his voice
was lost on Bob, who hadn’t been listening closely.

“
If you need any help finding something, let me know. I know everyone in town.”

“I bet you do,” the man replied. “I need some peace and quiet. This seems to be a good place for that. Anything exciting go on here?”

“Nothing memorable has ever happened here,” Bob laughed. “Biggest thing that’s ever happened to us is getting our outhouses upgraded to modern plumbing.”

“Perfect,” the man replied.

The sheets on his bed grew surprisingly wrinkled thanks to the thought of leaving town after his unconventional conversation with Addie that afternoon. Although on the surface she was unable to remember, underneath the lies were the memories of him. He knew it wouldn’t – actually, shouldn’t – matter if she remembered him, but he desperately wanted it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if all of the good, bad, and ugly memories came flooding back to her, but he decided he would be around if it happened.

He tossed and turned in the sheets, pulling the soft-blue fabric up before pushing it off again with his legs, sweat beading across his body. Half southern night air and half visions running through his dog-tired mind, the fever that was upon him would break before his soul did.

His closed eyes squinted, begging for the dream to be over. The crowd of blurred faces was distorted, vaguely resembling a zombie apocalypse as they ascended upon the town. Only faceless bodies lurching forward, heading towards the center of Lee as AJ helplessly watched. Their black clothes gave them away and AJ stood trapped by the encirclement approaching with their slow footsteps. As they neared, the evil was apparent through the only visible feature of their faces – their mouths. The pink-lipped grins were turned upward at the corners amidst no other identifiers. AJ inherently knew that they were grins of resentment and revenge.

Outside the dream his twisted body writhed on the sheets, sweat leaving an impression of where his body lay. Back inside his head he stood helpless, his mind unable to process all of the skills and tactics he had learned to defend himself. There were so many
figures with a united purpose of getting to him, taking away his life in return for his taking Devin’s.

He screamed. The muscles of his arms bolted him upright in bed. He clutched the sheets as if they were weapons at his disposal to defend himself. The haziness in his vision cleared through rapid blinks, his dark eyes adjusting to the night’s veil upon the room. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, couldn’t feel – all of his senses numbed. His chest rattled, sucking air in and pushing it out hastily as though he couldn’t get enough.

His heart was pumping with such force, he was scared it might pop out of his chest. His hand clutched at it, seemingly pressing inward to keep it behind the thick skin he had grown over the last few years. The adrenaline rush faded, leaving in its wake trembling limbs and appendages.

As reality came to him, he settled in the knowledge that he was alone and safe
, standing in the middle of the desert during a sand storm where irritation and pain surrounded him with no visible way out. More alone than he’d ever wanted to be, he thought. It had been one thing to grow up without a father; another to lose his mother. However, the loneliness he felt with Addie fifty feet away from him was so astounding he thought his heart might actually shatter. If he had one left, he said to himself.

With his eyes clear, his other senses started coming back one by one. It was then that he heard the anguished screams from outside, shooting the burning fire of adrenaline throughout his body. He jumped out of bed, not bothering to throw on anything over his running shorts as he made his way downstairs.

Matthew and Helen were at the screen door, Matthew’s aged but strong arms wrapped firmly around his wife. She was crying – the first time AJ had seen or heard such a sound crossing the barrier of her wise lips. The whimper was enough to splinter any illusion he had that the screams were a dream. He gently angled them aside so that he could open the antiqued screen door to peer outside.

B
linding light shrouded the horizon the way the sun did in the clear, early mornings of the small town. The air felt warmer somehow and AJ suddenly understood why – the light was no sunrise. It was fire. From the east to the west and back again, the orange and yellow monster ripped across the horizon stealing not only the food in its grips, but also the hopes and security of the people who grew it from tiny seeds just months before.

“Oh, shit
,” he whispered, his body twitching with the urge to help somehow, anyhow. “What … what can we do?”

His thoughts stalled
at the feeling of Helen’s hand on his arm.

“There’s nothing,” she said, the sadness more evident now in her voice than her simple tears had been. “The men are out there doing what they can to stop the blaze but it’s too much. It’s just too much. Everyone is going to lose everything!”

“I’ve got to go help,” AJ said.

His eyes transfixed upon
a blaze both frightening and magnificent in the same breath. By then Max had woken up and the two pushed their way through the door and into the yard.

“This is not a good omen,” Max whispered.

The slow movement of AJ’s feet stretched into a run, no thoughts other than the need to stop the fire. If he had glanced down, he might have noticed he was hardly dressed to battle a blaze – except that maybe the least amount of clothing might help withstand the heat.

He reached the gathering of men, stretched out in a line and moving the heavy steel watering systems where they would best stop the burn
as dirt edged its way between the toes of his shoeless feet. Others were attempting a controlled burn of some of the crops to prevent the further spread. Most of the rest of the town – women, children – were gathered on the streets, watching all of their hard work literally burn up into a thick sheet of gray smoke that rose into the sky. Mothers held their children close, cradling their heads in a futile attempt to assure them that they would be just fine, that there would still be money for food that year. AJ scanned the faces and it was evident to him that the children knew better – their Christmas presents were burning in those very crops. Somehow though he knew their tears weren’t for the lost gifts, but rather the pain that this would cause the parents who loved them.

AJ joined in the fight, using the very muscles that had been writhing in pain earlier to push the heavy sprinklers around. The curves where the muscles rose up out of his skin were highlighted by the sweat that drenched him and the light of the brightly colored fire in front of them.

Addie nearly stopped pushing, losing her grip on the sprinkler as she watched him. He had no ties to this town that she knew of – Gram had described him as simply a drifter. He himself said he’d be leaving soon. Yet here he was, she thought, putting out a fire that did not affect him one way or the other. He went where he was needed, offering the strength of his arms where other arms needed it, lifting a tired and defeated farmer to the safety of the street when the man had lost all energy.

He looked like a soldier; a superhero from a movie. The pleas of the man next to her woke her from the dream state, snapping her back to the reality of the fire in front of her. She went back to pushing, the system moving nowhere no matter how hard she threw her weight forward.
All of a sudden the metal began moving and as she glanced upward, she saw hands. Her eyes followed the lines of the arms until she saw tattoos; in particular, a rugged cross. She studied it, the ridges of the cross inked as though they were chiseled from stone, which was appropriate considering his body seemed to be a statue carved from the same.

“Push, Addie!” he yelled, mostly to distract her.

He didn’t need her help, even she knew that. He was trying to assist her while allowing her to keep the dignity of her efforts alive. She leaned her weight into it with him and the steel began to move.

Hours later, t
he fire’s blaze transformed into a sunrise as the last of the fire dwindled. The bright oranges and reds from the sun were not reassuring, however, despite their ability to change the idea behind the colors from raging agony to a thing of beauty. Fatigued and covered in soot, those from the town sat down in what was left of the crops.

The shards of plants dug into their skin leaving cuts and scrapes as a reminder of the morning’s pain. AJ didn’t even feel it; he was numb. Tired and numb.

Next to him on the ground sat Addie, her crumpled body lightly shaking – from the morning chill or the realization of what had happened, he didn’t know. Instinctively, he inched nearer and pulled her into his arms. The soot and dirt didn’t matter; neither noticed it. What he did notice was the stream of tears penetrating her soft, pink cheeks. Her eyelashes were amazingly long and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed them before. She curled into his side, burying herself in his chest to hide the pain she was feeling.

“One hell of a week,” she whispered, starting to laugh.

She couldn’t stop it. The high-pitched sound escaped her lips in lengths and she tried to muffle it unsuccessfully.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t laugh! Why am I laughing? Oh my God, this is awful!”  She kept going though, unable to shut off the faucet.

The laughter wasn’t long-lasting, quickly replaced by an onslaught of tears that would have blended in at a funeral.  He pulled her even tighter to him, the arms that had been so strong hours before as they maneuvered steel into place now softer than she could have imagined.

The warmth of his body eased the shakes she had, although a new set arose from the strength of her sobs. They were the sound of a future lost; at least this year’s future.

AJ carried her back to her house, opening up the familiar screen door and setting her on her bed. He wanted to stay but knew better; Gram had already taken over caring for her. AJ let himself out and slipped back over to the B&B.

“Look at you,” Helen whispered.

She noticed the cuts on his body. Cuts that in hours would be gone and he’d have to find a way to explain or resign to wearing pants and long sleeved shirts for a while.

“It’s no big deal. I’m just going to go back up to bed.”

“Not like that you’re not. Come here. You’ve got to clean those up or they’ll get infected.”

AJ didn’t fight her; it would have been a losing battle. He pulled up a chair at the counter while she readied a bowl with soap and water.

“I can see that you still love her,” Helen said, her gentle hands erasing the bloody evidence of a painful evening.

The wounds left behind, like the vision of that fire, would be enough to keep the event alive in his mind for years if not eternity. Her hands moved soothingly, tenderly over his body, trying to be the mother he no longer had.

“It’s not that simple, Helen,” he replied.

His eyes glued to the white linoleum tiles beneath his feet. It was only then he realized he still only had his shorts on, but oddly didn’t care. It seemed so irrelevant after all they’d seen.

“Then make it simple.”

“Helen, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I don’t care. How about that?”

She craned her head around his shoulder so that he could see her. Her grin was too much – no matter how much he wanted her to drop the topic, he also wanted to wrap her up in his arms and pretend she were his mother.

“What happened with you two? I see the way you look at her; I saw how you two were just a couple weeks ago. What happened?”

“Life. Life is what happened.”

“Life always happens,” she replied, the sound of water dripping off the rag and ringing in his ears as she twisted the old hand towel over the sink. “If you just let life happen, you’re going to miss out on a whole lot, young man. Sometimes we have to make things happen instead of waiting for fate.”

“That sort of defeats the purpose of fate, doesn’t it?” he said with a raised eyebrow, thinking he caught her.

“Fate is whatever you make it, son. You think that our lives are really all planned out for us by the cosmic forces or God or whatever you believe in?”

“Yeah.”

He did – he was proof, wasn’t he? And he knew for a fact that lives were indeed predestined. No one knew what the outcome of their life was, but the path to get there had been determined long ago. The gift he’d been given was a fate. It wasn’t a choice of his. Well, not entirely.

She pulled up the stool next to him and sat down, one hand on his solid back, the other folding over his hand resting on his leg.

“Fate is not a plan that is already in place for us. It’s an excuse people use when they’re too weak to make choices for themselves. It’s a backup plan, a way to claim that they don’t need to grow up and live their own lives.”

AJ cringed. It actually made sense.

“My point, kiddo, is that you need to stop thinking that the whole world has this plan in place for you and start thinking about what your own plan would be. If that girl is the one you want, then do something about it. Or you might just find that ‘fate’ finds someone for her while you get to watch.”

She was nothing if
not smart.