It was a subtle – almost inaudible noise – but it registered in my conscious mind as I lay sleeping. The soft “click” was the opening of my front door. My roommate must of returned home. The time read: 3a.m. No, it wouldn't be her. Not at this hour. Light and calculated steps whispered down the hallway. Those steps stopped just outside my door. There was an intake of breath, and I held mine. I opened one eye and curled deeper into my covers. Another click, but this wasn't a door opening. This particular click was the cocking of a gun. I wanted to scream, or melt into my pillows. But I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak – All I could do was watch as the barrel of a shotgun appeared from the corner of my door. A blink later there was a man standing in my doorway, aiming for my head. It was my roommate's boyfriend. Our eyes met, and then he pulled the trigger with a smile.
With the echo of the shot still reverberating in my head, I sat up in bed gasping for air. It was a dream! It was only a dream...but I could smell his cologne. There was also the business of a small stream of smoke billowing in the doorway. This was no dream. This was a vision. It had to be, but for whom?
The time was now 3:15. I lay staring at the ceiling trying to discount everything I had just witnessed and experienced. I didn't want to believe that something like this could happen – most especially to me. Was this a message? Did I need to stop telling my best friend and roommate that her current boyfriend is an asshole? Or do I need to warn her that he is a psycho killer? Would she believe me? Would she listen?
It was too much. Sleep never found me again, I was too frightened.
…..................................................................................
“Well Rose, don't you look chipper this afternoon,” said my roommate Amber as I walked in our apartment after work.
“I had a bad dream last night, and I couldn't fall back asleep after.”
Amber cocked her head, and squinted as she gazed at me.
“What aren't you telling me? We've been friends for years, I know when something is bugging you. And it certainly isn't a bad dream.”
I sighed, and turned away for a moment.
“I had the weirdest experience of my life last night Am, and please just keep an open mind. So I was in a deep sleep when I thought I heard the front door open – but here's how it was weird. Even though I was still sleeping in bed, it was like I was wide awake. Everything that was happening in the dream – to me – seemed to really be happening. I heard footsteps coming down the hallway, they stopped outside the door, and then your boyfriend was standing in my doorway with a rifle pointed at my head.”
“You had a dream about Jack?”
I put a hand to stop her questions, “Please let me finish, and then you can interrogate me.”
“Jack was standing there, wearing denim shorts without a shirt or shoes, and then he pulled the trigger. This is when I really woke up, but Am, I could smell his cologne and there was smoke in the air.”
“Wow, I wouldn't have been able to sleep after that either. What do you think it all means? I mean, do you think it was just a dream, or what?”
“I don't know, I mean obviously, if wasn't just a dream – that message wouldn't be for me, it was Jack. It would be a message for you.”
Am turned away and gazed at her shuffling feet, “I know. He and I broke up yesterday – for good this time,” she said gazing directly into my eyes. “I stayed with my parents last night.”
“Should we worry about his going mad, or did things end as well as they possibly can in that type of situation?”
She sighed, “It ended as well as can be expected. But on a brighter note, are you ready for next week? I am so excited to see Lisa again after all these years,” Amber said with a clap.
I smiled, “Yeah, its just too bad I can't refund my flight to Michigan, so that I can hang out with you two the whole time. Although, it'll probably be best if you two hang out first, you know to smooth things over for me with her.”
Amber and I shared a look. She shook her head, as I lowered mine.
“Rose, you really need to forgive yourself for that time in your life. Lisa was ready to party and for that scene – You were in the midst of your stepdad's psychological abuse. You can't help that you ran away from Tennessee just as she was moving down there.”
“Yeah, but I should have told her before she moved down...”
“Seriously Rose! Didn't you say you tried to tell her, but she told you she didn't want to hear it because Dwayne was her friend too and she didn't want to get in the middle of your “spat”?”
“Well, yeah, but....”
“No buts! Its done, I will talk to her, and if she still has an issue with you after that, well...screw her. She didn't see your face when you saw Dwayne for the first time in months. She didn't have to listen to the horror in your voice or see the pain in your eyes, I did, and I will be damned if I let her give you shit for the torture you suffered from that man!”
Amber's love was tenacious. She would do anything for those that she loved, and I never took that for granted. She was the best of friends, and more than that, a soul mate. She was one who – I knew from the moment that we met – would be in my life for the rest of it. Because of this, there was nothing I wouldn't do for her.
“What's that smile for,” I asked as Amber gazed at her cellphone.
She looked up with sparkling eyes, “John just sent me a text. It looks its just going to be me and him for the camping trip.”
I laughed, “Well, isn't life working out perfectly for you in that area – how long have you been crushing on him for now? A year?”
She giggled, “Something like that. If things stay like this, 2006 is going to be my best year yet!”
….......................................Two weeks later......................................................
Lisa answered on the second ring.
“Hey girl, what’s up?”
“Do you have Mom Peck’s number, by chance?”
“Why, what’s wrong?” Lisa gasped, “Amber hasn’t been home has she,” and before I could respond, Lisa went into meltdown mode. “Oh my God,” she sobbed, and then she proceeded to give in to hysterical cries of gibberish.
“Lisa…Lisa…Lisa! I need you to calm down right now! I am barely keeping it together here, I need you to focus! I can’t handle this shit right now, I need to speak to Glenda, and if you can’t help me I am hanging up, do you hear me?!”
“Yes,” she gasped for breath, “yes, I hear you. I don’t have their numbers, but we’re on the same network. Let me call our service provider, and see if they will transfer, or give me their number. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Alright, I will call you right back.”
Five minutes passed like five years. By the time Lisa finally called back, I looked down at my feet to make sure I hadn’t developed roots.
“Am I good, or am I good,” Lisa said quite please with herself.
“Did you get a hold of her?”
“Sort of.”
I sighed.
“Wait, before you get pissy with me, listen. I called the operator, and asked if they could please transfer me to Glenda Peck, or to give me her number. Well they wouldn’t do it. So I started balling on the phone, and I am talking wails and sobs. The woman became so frustrated with me that she got a hold of her manager, and they called Glenda and asked if she would take my phone call. She did, and she wants you to call her immediately. Here’s her number.”
As I wrote down the digits, I said, “Lisa, whatever would I do without your dramatic episodes?”
“Lead a very boring life,” she laughed, and then very quietly she said, “Rose, I’m really scared. If anything happened to Amber, it’s all my fault, and I will not be able to live with myself.”
“Lisa, I swear to God, don’t start thinking about that. She’s fine. She’s just lost, and we’re going to find her cold and wet. And if, IF,” I stressed, “anything did happen to her. It was not your fault, and don’t you ever say any different.”
“I love you Rose, please don’t leave me out of this. Keep me posted, please.”
“I love you too Lisa, and I promise I will not keep you out of the loop. I will talk to you later.”
My heart was drowning in my stomach as I dialed Amber’s mother. This call was going to leave a mark.
“Rose? Is this you?”
“Yeah Mom, it’s me.”
She sighed, “What is going on? Why did Lisa, of all people call me? Why is this the first we’ve talked? Have you heard from Amber? Has she been home? Has she gone to work? What the heck is going on girl?”
“Lisa called, because I don't have your number and I didn’t think to call your service provider. No, I haven’t heard from her, she hasn’t been home, and she hasn’t been to work.”
“Oh God. She’s gone Rose, I just know my daughter is dead. I can feel it….”
“Stop it! Amber’s fine Mom, she’s fine! We’re going to find her, and she might be hurt, but that’s it! We can’t go into this believing the worst has happened.”
I could hear Amber’s Dad in the background yelling the same phrases at her that I was.
“I can’t help it Rose. Something is wrong, and I can’t shake that the worst has happened. When is the last time you saw her?”
“When she dropped me off at work Tuesday morning.”
“Was John with her?”
“No.”
“I hate that she went on that trip Rose, I hate it. She sprung it on us, at the last second, and expected us not to be the least bit put off by it. And of course she asked for a few dollars too, for dinner, it was all I could do to give it to her.”
She continued, “We didn’t get to meet this John, and she couldn’t definitively tell us where in the forest she was going….I am beside myself Rose, absolutely beside myself.”
“I tried filing a missing person’s report, but they wouldn’t let me because I am not family.”
“Dad’s taking care of that now. Are you at work? We don’t have a key, and it sounds like we’re going to have to meet an officer at your apartment later this afternoon. And if you’re not there we’ll swing by your office and pick up the key.”
“I’m pretty sure as soon as I explain to my boss what is going on, she’ll give me the afternoon off, so I will be at the apartment to let you both in. What time do you think you’ll be there?”
“The officer said he would be to the apartment sometime after 4:30, so Dad and I will be there at 4. Thank you for being here Rose, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”
As I hung up, I was glad I was in a dark room alone. My brain was scrambled and my nerves were fried.
“Rose? What are you doing sitting here in the dark? Why aren’t you at your desk,” asked my boss, Maude.
When I looked up from the computer screen, Maude’s expression changed from one of chastisement to concern.
“Is everything alright?”
I shook my head, “No, my roommate is missing, and I need to meet her parents at our apartment. An officer is coming to speak to us.”
She covered her mouth and gasped behind her hand, “Then what are you doing sitting here sweetie, this job will survive without you for an afternoon, or however long you need for that matter. You have more important places to be right now.”
“Thank you,” I said as I got up from my chair.
Maude squeezed my shoulder as I walked by, “My prayers are with you, and call if you need anything.”
Walking to the bus stop felt like I was trekking across the Ural Mountains – On the other side of the world isolated and snow capped. My conversations with Lisa and Mom Peck left me drained and wretched.
In the past I had jokingly told Amber that I’d be fine if I were an island unto myself. But after only a few days absence, I didn’t know if I was capable of withstanding the constant state of emptiness that came from Amber's missing presence in my life.
I can’t remember the specific month when she and I first met, but I know a person could still smell snow in the air the minute they walked out the door. The little hairs of my nose turned to irritating icicles upon inhaling as I stepped out onto the front steps of my mom's single wide trailer. It was about six-thirty in the morning, a horrible time to make a seventh grader walk to the bus. Every day at the precise moment I would turn to make sure the door was locked, a skinny girl would bound down a slight hill between the trailers across the street. Every day for a week we walked on opposite sides of the road, side-glancing at one another, but never saying a word. We would turn left at the corner, still trotting on opposing sides of the lane. When she walked up the steps to a brown and beige double-wide at the next corner, the skinny one would peak over her shoulder at me before knocking on the door.
One day the morning began like every other. Me, checking the door, by pulling roughly on the handle to slam the door against the frame five or six times; the skinny girl bounding down the hill to step in time with me as we ventured down the street. I can’t remember the date, but that morning marked a fateful spot in history, the skinny girl spoke.
“I’m Amber, I see you every morning. Would you like to walk with me?”
Taken aback, I hesitated before replying, “Sure.”
I stepped off the sidewalk to cross over, but she was sprinting towards me, shouting, “No don’t, I’ll come to you.”
Out of breath she continued, “I moved here a couple of weeks ago. My mom and dad just separated. We were living in this condo in town near the Seven-Eleven, but my dad stays there now. I’ve never lived in a trailer before, it’s kind of neat. Do you know this girl named Lisa? She lives across from me; we ride with Donna to school. Do you know her, Donna that is? Did you just move here too? I don’t recall seeing you other than on the way to wherever it is that you go in the morning. Well, this is Donna’s. It was nice talking to you,” Amber said walking up the steps, just before knocking she turned back to me, “Hey, what's your name? How rude, I almost forgot to ask,” she said with a wide white grin.
“Rose,” I said smiling back in spite of myself.
“Will I see you tomorrow then, same time, same place,” Amber asked, her voice soft and vulnerable now.
“You bet,” I said waving her off.
Releasing a breath watching her walk through Donna’s door, I shook my head chuckling. We had only walked a block together, and after trying to keep up with her monologue, I was exhausted. From the minute she crossed the street until she stepped up to Donna’s door, Amber hadn’t shut up once, not even to catch her breath between sentences. And my life hadn’t been quiet since, til now.
These past few days I discovered that a world without Amber in it is inconsolably silent. Her laughter twinkled like pixie dust, and her compassionate concern was a warm, soft blanket on a gloomy Sunday morning. Half my life was lived with her in it. It wasn’t within my powers of comprehension to envision a life without her near by.
In 13 years of friendship we'd hardly gone a day without talking. There was only one spurt through out our relationship that went without any communication, and it was the longest year of our lives. She'd broken up with my cousin, and he called me sobbing over his heartache. He'd always been a brother to me, and when she broke his heart I couldn't talk to her. And she respected this. We both knew that if we spoke to one another before I was ready, our friendship would never have survived. When we reconnected, it was as though we'd never been apart. The two of us picked right up where we had left off.
Our paths were always similar. The parallel between our first meeting and our relationship to one another was extraordinary. We were always walking on the same street, at the same time. This made us more daring and bold, because we knew we were never alone.
But if Mom Peck's intuition was correct, Amber was now in a place that I couldn't follow. My soul cried out for my friend. I longed for any sign that she was somewhere in this world, somewhere I could find her. There was only silence resounding.
Before I went to the apartment to wait for Amber's parents, I stopped off at the Kwik-Mart for cat food. I spent the remainder of the afternoon lost in thoughts of sadness and sorrow. To counter the heavy weight of apprehension, I was also filled with a nervous energy that wouldn't let me remain still. Once the cats were fed, I went about the apartment dusting walls, doing dishes, and vacuuming the spotless carpet. If it hadn't of seemed sacrilegious, I would have cleaned Amber's room.
Soon after Mom and Dad Peck arrived, the officer knocked on our door. He asked us a few mundane questions, such as: “When did we last see her? Where was she going? Who was she with? Etc, Etc.” We'd been over those questions so many times that it felt similar to a root canal when answering them. Once the officer left, I packed an over night bag and left with Amber's parents to spend the night in their RV. Dad Peck had organized a search party, and they were leaving first thing in the morning. I was given the option to hang back at the RV park with Mom Peck, but I wouldn't hear of it. There was no way I was going to remain on the side-lines any longer. I needed to feel like I was contributing somehow, and hiking through the Ocala National Forest was the way to do it.
…...............................................................................................................
“Why aren’t they talking to you,” I asked Dad Peck as we watched the detectives wandering about the dirt road where we'd found Amber's vehicle the following morning.
He grimaced, “Because all they know right now is that a man and woman’s bodies were discovered this morning. Both with gun shot wounds. The man has been identified by his family, and they know that he is John. As they have never met Amber, they couldn’t identify her. But because they know that she was last seen with him, they assume that the woman is our Amber.”
I glared at the officers around me, “So they’re just going to ignore us?! What’s the fricking hold up?! And how did John's family find them?!”
Dad looked at me with a small twinkle in his eyes, apparently my anger amused him. “When the officer came to John’s sister to get a time line of Amber’s where-abouts, this alerted the family that John may be missing too. They know the area, and have been camping here for years, so they set out about 30 minutes before we did…and you know the rest.”
“So we’re just supposed to stand here and let all these people treat us like we’re invisible! This is ridiculous!”
I was going to continue, but a woman with inappropriate boots spoke up. She was wearing black leather boots with a mid size heel – no one would ever wear those to go hiking, let alone a search and rescue.
“Hello, my name is Nancy, and I work with Marion County Sheriff’s office, would you care to take a walk with me?” It was posed as a question, but from her demeanor it was more of a demand. Dad Peck and I shared a look, and we both locked our jaws as we nodded. He and I followed Nancy across the smooth and sandy stretch of road, to the side street that the helicopter was using as a landing strip.
The two of us didn’t say a word – we waited for Nancy to speak.
“I work with Marion County not as an officer of the law, but as a counselor. I have been working with families of victims for over 20 years now. Because of my presence I am sure you’ve figured out, the worst thing that can happen to a family has happened. The detectives are working diligently to secure the scene, and gather all the evidence they can so that you will be able to identify what we are sure are Amber’s remains,” Nancy paused to let her words sink in.
Dad’s arm, in a reflexive spasm, gripped my waist to keep his legs from giving out. He was trembling, but his expression betrayed none of this. Only I could feel the grief overtaking his frame. And I knew why. Amber was his baby girl, but also his equal. She stood up to him when no one else dared, and for that she earned his unending respect. I was sure Dad was recalling the memory of a 15 year old Amber standing before him defiant and trembling.
She stood toe-to-toe with him her face flushed and wet with tears, roaring that she was no longer going to live in fear. Amber was not going to tolerate his bullying or his scare tactics. And if he couldn’t change how he dealt with her, then she was going to cut him out of her life completely. She told him that he’d be dead to her. I was present for this exchange and I watched, amazed and proud that the girl before me was my best friend. She was so strong, so fearless. And as Dad Peck wrapped his arms around his daughter for what became the first real embrace between them, he wept - for Amber had tamed the beast that had haunted her sleep for years. Amber had survived her father's wrath, and to me, this made her invincible. And I was fairly certain, Dad Peck felt this way too.
Knowing that her life had ended in such a violent manner defied our sense of logic. To those that knew her, Amber was the one who could survive anything. She was a fighter. She didn’t know how to back down. That this was the end of her time on this planet was incomprehensible. I witnessed the disbelief and sorrow take control of the once stoic and resilient man, and it devastated me more than Nancy's words ever could.
Dad Peck gazed at me, his eyes wet with all that he could not express. As I met this soulful gaze, I lost the last remnants of the girl I had been before this moment. In those first torturous seconds of comprehension, I lost my identity. The guilt of knowing that I couldn’t save her, and the regret of not getting to tell her just how much she meant to me was more than I could bear. The weight of Dad’s arm around my waist, and the warmth emanating from him registered on nerves that no longer felt as though they were a part of me. I was only aware of his touch, because I could see his arm around my waist.
“Rose?”
Shaking my head, I looked up to see Dad Peck looking at me intently.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Nancy just offered to have one of the officers take you back to the RV park.”
I shook my head, “No, I’m staying here. I’m not going anywhere until we know…well, until we know.”
Dad nodded, “I thought as much, but I felt we should run it by you all the same.”
Nancy rubbed my arm, “Are you sure you don’t want one of the officers to give you a ride away from here? It’s going to be a long day.”
Her transition lenses were shading her eyes, but I could decipher the expression from her tone of voice. She was concerned that this would all be too much for me, and that the best place for me right now was to hide somewhere on a couch in a doped stupor. There was no way I was leaving, and no amount of passive aggressive prompting was going to push me away.
“My place is here, I’m not going anywhere.”
Dad Peck and I went our separate ways for the remainder of the afternoon. He stood by his truck and occasionally spoke to an officer or detective – begging for whatever information they were willing to give him. As for me, I sat on a stump staring at the trail leading to Amber's body.
The longer I sat staring, the more reality seemed to be slipping away from me. The tall grass seemed to be swaying in slow motion and it looked like a field of computer generated tendrils of honey blond blades. Every grain of sand crawled and popped under my feet. I shook my head hoping to clear the madness, but then the clouds opened and what appeared to be the sun's rays meandered about the sky like befuddled fireflies. Sanity was fast becoming a thing of the past, because a bauble of light was making its way toward me like the Good Witch to Dorothy in her first minutes in Oz.
An apparition of a young man floated to the ground before me. He stood surrounded by a radiant glow. His deep molasses eyes burned with a fire that stoked the dying embers around my heart. The young man's black hair appeared to be speckled with constellations as it twinkled and sparkled with the breeze blowing through the long strands.
“Please follow me, you're needed elsewhere,” the young man said as he held out his hand.
“You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm going anywhere with you! Firstly, I don't believe ghosts! Secondly, if you're a messenger from God – I want no part of it. He was wrong for what He did here today. Amber didn't deserve this. In the words of Johnny Paycheck, “take your job, and shove it,” I said folding my arms.
Again the young man held out his hand, “Please follow me, you're needed elsewhere.”
“Are you deaf? I'm not going anywhere. Not for anyone, least of all some boy who just left his bubble.”
Not to be deterred, the young man bore into my eyes with an emblazoned gaze, “It is imperative that you leave this place now, you're needed elsewhere.”
“I will not move,” I roared.
“Rose! No one is asking you to move, what's the matter,” asked Dad Peck with concern in his eyes.
My head lifted with a jerk. All around me the world had righted itself. I was alone, sitting a stump near the trail leading to Amber's body. The young man was gone, and with him the last bit of warmth from my soul. A chill was now cursing my bones, but I looked at Dad Peck with a soggy smile, “Sorry, I was yelling at a wasp. I hate those things.”
Dad nodded not buying what I was selling, but he left it alone.
“I'm going to be in the Semi-Trailer for a bit. They've come to let me identify the body,” he said turning to walk away.
“I'm coming with you,” I said stepping in time with him.
“Rose, I think its best if you wait outside. They only need one person to identify her.”
“Sorry Pops, but nothing short of the hand of God is keeping me out of that room. You may think it crass or morbid, but I don't care. I need to see with my own eyes that she's really gone, or I will never move on.”
Dad Peck nodded, and led the way.
Looks were traded and heads were shook at my appearance in the conference room, but I ignored them. I took a seat next to Dad Peck and we sat across from the man I could only assume was John's father.
“Before we get to the worst of business, let me start by saying how deeply sorry I am for you loss. There is nothing more tragic than a viable, young life taken well before its time,” said the Sheriff of Marion County, “We know from ballistics that Amber and John were killed by rounds fired from an AK-47. John sustained wounds that would have been lethal, the shot to his head was unnecessary. Amber was killed at close range by a shot to her head. Sorry to be so forward and blunt, but we have found that the more concise we are with the details, the better off the family of the victims are.” He hung his head briefly to collect his thoughts and words. The sheriff then handed a piece of paper to Dad Peck and then John's father.
“Take all the time you need,” he said and then gestured for the two men to flip over the piece of paper.
It was a photo. Amber was laying on her stomach with her head cocked to one side. She was on the shore line of a small pond. She could have been sleeping if it weren't for the small gash on her temple. Because it had rained two days prior to her being found, all of Amber's blood had washed away. She was wearing her favorite jeans, denim jacket, and her gray Victoria's Secret tank-top. Her long blond hair was pulled up in a pony tail, and her eyes were closed. I couldn't stop staring at her peaceful expression. There was nothing I wanted more than to see this photograph come to life. I wanted to see her breathe, smile, and laugh like this were the biggest prank ever pulled – but this didn't happen.
Her friend John was lying at her feet in a horizontal line across her vertical. His eyes were open and covered with a congealed film. He was in more of a fetal position, and one could see clearly that he had taken more bullets than Amber. This was when I fell to pieces.
John was a soldier – a Marine. He had been trained for combat, and that training seemed ever present in the positioning of their bodies. He had died trying to save her. I closed my eyes, and watched the scene play on the backs of my eyelids.
At the first shot fired – they would have stopped on the trail unsure and tentative to move. The next probably grazed them both, and here is where John would have stepped up. He more than likely pushed Amber to the ground as he took the brunt of firestorm hailing down upon them. John then fell at Amber's feet.
I swallowed the roar billowing in my gut as I imagined Amber's last moments on this Earth. She would have known incredible terror and madness. She would have known her friend was dying at her feet, and she would have heard the gunman approach. She may have even looked upon his face before he pulled the trigger, thus ending her life. This scene was seared upon my brain, etched in my heart, and branded on my soul. She didn't deserve to die that way, and I would never forgive the hand that designed this sordid mess.
…..................................................................................................................
“Rose, I am so happy you decided to come down and stay with me awhile. Things have been rough since.....I can't even imagine what you've gone through these last few weeks,” Lisa said with a somber shake of her head.
14 days had passed since my best friend was murdered, and I had thought of nothing more than Amber and Lisa. The loss of Amber had left a crater the size of the moon in my life. She was my phantom limb, and every time I felt her near I attempted to reach out to no avail. But Lisa, I was in a panic over her well being. She had revealed over the recent weekend with Amber and I that she was Manic Depressive Bi-Polar. In the past Lisa had attempted to take her life, and knowing her the way I did – I knew those dark thoughts were once again pressing on her mind. My coming to Nashville Tennessee was as much about self preservation, as it was to take care of my fragile friend. I couldn't lose another so soon.
After the memorial service for Amber I decided to ride with Lisa back to Tennessee. For whatever reason, I was drawn to her side. We spent a few days tip-toeing around each other, but by the end of the week Lisa and I had developed a routine. A routine that involved never speaking about what had just happened. If Amber's name was ever mentioned by me, Lisa would turn away cringing and she'd immediately change the subject. I stopped trying to talk about it. I figured when she was ready, Lisa would start the conversation.
“Did they really get the guy that did it,” asked Lisa, “And it really wasn't Jack?”
I nodded, “Yeah, even without his confession they had enough evidence to tie him to the scene. And yes, it really wasn't Jack. When the detectives questioned me, I told them that if Jack's body wasn't lying next to Amber's, then he had nothing to do with her death. He'd of never let anyone else but him spend an eternity with her. If the kid who'd picked up the killer hadn't of come forward, we never would have got the guy. Every thing about this situation – aside from Am's murder – is pretty fricking miraculous.”
Lisa looked away with tears in her eyes, “It's my fault,” she said with a wet whisper.
“I don't care what anyone says...its my fault she's dead. If I had never come down to visit, she wouldn't have postponed her trip, and then she would never have been there....”
“Damn it Lisa,” I shouted, “Shut up!! I don't want to hear another word!! Do you have any idea how lucky we are that we had that day – the three of us together?!! You and Amber reconnecting after 7 years of silence just days before she died is a damn miracle, and I won't hear another word about it!!”
“Rose,” Lisa said with a sob, “I just miss her so much, and I feel like I am responsible for it.”
I sat by her side, and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. With my head resting upon hers, I closed my eyes to hold back my tears.
“So do I, but that's the plight of the living – we feel guilty because we're still alive. I miss her too, more than I could ever say.”
“She was so pretty that day,” Lisa whispered.
“What day,” I asked.
“That last day – when we went to ride the Sling-Shot in Orlando.”
I swallowed a sob, “Yeah, she was kind of amazing in that moment.”
For a brief second Amber was alive again as Lisa and I reminisced. Amber's hair was in piggy-braids that day, and her face was never without a smile. In fact, all day long the three of us had never stopped smiling. At 26 we felt as though we were 15 again. Nothing could touch us and the world was ours for the taking – that was the magic between us. But riding the Sling-Shot Amber had been transcendent.
The Sling-Shot was like bungee jumping, only not. Instead of jumping off of something to swing and flip through the air – on this ride one was tossed up over 400 ft in the air to swing and flip about. While Lisa and I had been enjoying our ride, Amber had scored a ticket from the group of Georgia Bulldogs that she'd been flirting with. Some guys had been in line with us from the start, and they were down attending a football game. As Lisa and I returned to Amber on Jell-O legs, she shot us a grin brighter than the Vegas Strip.
“What's this,” I said with a wink.
“Well, these fine Southern Gentlemen have been kind enough to pay my way on the ride,” Amber said glowing with pride. This was a first for her. She had never been the prettiest girl, but what she lacked in looks she made up for in personality. When she was excited, so was everyone around her. Her glee was always contagious, but she had never flirted her way into a purchase from a stranger. This was her final coup.
Lisa and I ran to a monitor to watch as Amber was getting strapped in. We stood shoulder to shoulder, and watched as our friend took flight. Amber's entire frame was wracked with tremors. I had never seen her so scared. She had a white-knuckled grip on her shoulder harness, and closed her eyes to take in a deep breath. And then they were off. There was no sound, but her screams could be heard from the ground. Every word out of her mouth was, “Fuck!” Then the fear was gone, and she became a 5 foot, 95lb Amazon. Her face was awash with a fire that bellowed she was a warrior. And then her expression changed once again. The free falls and the rockets up were becoming more subdued, and this was where Amber glowed. She was positively incandescent. She pressed her hand to her heart, and covered her lips with the other. Amber was crying, and her tears were luminescent dew drops shining in her eyes. With a sob, she said, “That was beautiful.” Tremulous and tender, she shone like a goddess for that small measure of time. Amber was right, I had never seen anything more beautiful than that moment.
“I hate myself for not buying that DVD,” Lisa growled.
“Same here, but we had no idea that was going to be the last thing we did together. But at least we have the memory.”
“I guess...hey...do you want to go for a walk? I've got to move. I am getting too keyed up to sit,” Lisa said with a grimace.
“A walk sounds fabulous.”
“Alright, I will meet you outside. I've to pee, and grab some smokes.”
I smiled, “Okie dokie.”
Walking out the sliding glass patio door, I inhaled deeply – relishing the fresh Tennessee air. After a few minutes of basking in the metropolitan skyline, I turned to see what was keeping Lisa. She locked the deadbolt to the main door of her apartment, and I watched my reflection scowl with confusion on the glass before my nose. Before I could think to move, Lisa was standing before me and locked the door.
I pounded on the glass, “Lisa!! What are you doing?! Let me in!”
She shook her head, and dropped the 2x4 on the sliding door's track to further barricade herself in. And then I saw it. That unmistakeable shape of a handgun. The gray metal mocked me from its perch in the back pocket of Lisa's cut-off shorts.
My fists were frantic now as I beat the glass door, all the while screaming, “Stop!! Don't you do this to me!! Don't you dare!! Lisa!!! Lisa!! You bitch!! Don't you leave me this way!!! This is fucked up!!!”
Lisa snapped to a stop from her pacing.
“Fucked up?! Fucked up?! This whole situation is fucked!! It was fucked when you left me here on my own 7 years ago!! It was fucked when my husband dumped me!! It was fucked when the pills didn't work last time I tried!!! And it was completely Fucked when Amber was murdered!! I told you, I don't care what you say, its my fault she's dead!! Mine!! I fucked it up!! Fucked up,” Lisa screamed, “I'll show you fucked up!!!”
In one blink, Lisa inserted the barrel of the gun in her mouth. With the second blink - she pulled the trigger and fell to the floor in a haze of smoke, brains, and blood.
My fists were covered in blood as I pounded on the thick panes of glass, screaming, wailing, and sobbing Lisa's name. As I slid to my knees on the concrete square that was Lisa's patio, my hands rubbed the glass on the way down causing an awful stuttered screech. In one shot, the tiny bits of life that I had been clutching in a vice grip were decimated. I was devastated and utterly alone. In 14 days I lost two-thirds of the greatest parts of me. I was bold because Lisa dared me to try. I was strong because Amber lifted me higher than anyone I'd ever known, and now they were gone. Curling into a ball on the cold ground, I wept until my ribs ached from the strength of my sobs. I didn't want to live. I didn't want to exist in a place where I couldn't call them, or laugh with them. From the power of three, to the loneliness of one – I was lost.
Through the sheen of my tears, I didn't notice them at first. But the same baubles of light I had seen on the day we found Amber were meandering in the reflection. Once again, one of those baubles of firefly light honed in on me. The same starlit young man appeared behind me. Only this time he didn't hold out his hand. He merely uttered, “Watch.”
Shadows and shades were moving about the living room of Lisa's apartment. They were encroaching upon Lisa's body – ensnaring her in a tar like web. They moved as one, and as they did Lisa's body remained but her soul struggled in the confines of the oozing net. I saw it, and it saw me.
“Rose,” Lisa's soul cried, “Help me! I'm sorry!! Don't let them take me!! Rose!! Rose!!!”
I turned to the starlit young man frantic for answers, “What's happening?! Why won't you stop this?! Help her,” I shouted as I shifted my gaze back to the happenings in the apartment.
Lisa's cries were incoherent and primal now as she struggled in the binds. Once again I was paralyzed and helpless. Once again I couldn't save her. As I was about to turn away, a flash of flame exploded in the room. There he stood. The man who had haunted my sleep and terrorized my dreams. My stepfather Dwayne. His dirty blonde hair was matted with blood, and his face was bruised. None of this was any concern to me – it was his eyes – They were burning with wrath and hate. That crimson stare raped my shattered gaze.
“How is this happening,” I whispered, “Last I heard he was in prison, not dead. How can he do this? Is this really happening?”
The starlight young man nodded his head, “When I asked for your hand before, he was the reason why...you could have stopped this, but you refused to move. You're right, Dwayne is in prison, but he was beaten into a coma after he started a fight with a better man than he. Until he dies or awakens – his spirit is free to rage on as it sees fit. You and your mother were the best parts of him, but because you've never made peace with your time spent with him – until you do make peace, you're meant to suffer further.”
With a sinister wink and a rotted smile, Dwayne faded away with the shadows and shades. And with him, Lisa.
My head hung in despair and shame, and my chin resting on my chest, I softly asked, “Does he have Amber too?”
At once there was a warmth in me that I've never experienced. It started with the flesh, and stopped in the depths of my heart. I glanced in the sliding glass door, the starlit young man had his hand on my shoulder.
His face was very much like my own. We had the same impish eyes and the same petulant scowl.
“Who are you,” I asked in a daze.
“I've always been with you,” he replied, “and I came before you.”
“Josh? Are you saying you're my brother...or rather the spirit of my brother.”
A smile was his only reply. It was the smile my father always wore when he wanted me to stop asking what he deemed silly questions. This was the child born in the winter of 1978 – the child who was an angel before he ever got to take his first breath. My mother and father's only son – my brother.
“You made that head pop out my wall when I was 3, didn't you,” I said forgetting the horrors I had witnessed only moments before.
Josh grinned, “I have no idea what you're saying to me right now.”
I smiled in return, but as quickly as it appeared on my lips – it vanished in the same fashion.
“I survived Dwayne, because you have always been with me,” I said releasing an incredulous breath.
“Well you did most of the work, but I did steer you some of the way.”
My lips trembled and I repeated, “Does he have Amber too?”
Josh shook his head.
“I may have interjected more than I am allowed with Amber, which is why Dwayne came here today. Like most souls taken so shockingly and suddenly, she was a bit disoriented when she left her body. Amber is feisty one though,” Josh said with an entertained shake of the head. “She got one look at the shadows and shades as they came for her,” Josh chuckled, “Next thing you know she's readying for battle. It was about that time that I dropped a bomb of light on the ink blots, and Amber got away. The girl's got moxie, but she didn't stand a chance on her own. I tried to get you to budge to distract the dark blobs...Look, don't get me wrong, I understand, but seriously, Sis, when an angel is holding out their hand and telling you that you're needed elsewhere, well they kind of mean it, so in the words of our father, get off of your dead ass next time.”
“The way you talk! Can angels say “ass?” I mean, isn't that kind of taboo in your realm or whatever?”
“It is when in the “realm” or what-have-you, but down here,” Josh shrugged, “as long as we don't take the Lord's name in vain its cool. Although some of the words that come out of your mouth I wouldn't say to Lucifer himself. But we're getting off point here Sis, you have some business to attend to. I'm allowed to guide you to where you need to go, and basically cover your ass if-when the shit hits the fan, but that's it for a Guardian. Dwayne is something you're going to have to conquer yourself, and as Lisa's soul is at stake as well, I'm going to bet you're going to come with me now, right,” he said holding out his hand.
….....................................................................................
“So when you said follow you, I expected to you know fly off into the sunset, kind of like Lois Lane and Superman. This business with the shady cab and dodgy airport is the complete opposite of what I had in mind,” I said to the empty air in the seat beside me. I couldn't see Josh, but I knew he was there.
“Do you want to get kicked off the plane for suspicious behavior?! Stop talking to yourself! If you want to communicate with me in public, write it down!”
I glanced out the window and watched Nashville fade away under the heavy cloud cover. Josh had put me on a plane to Antigua, Guatemala. We left a private airport that seemed to be reserved for quick escapes and drug smuggling. The plane was small and pieced together with scraps of metal, bolts, screws, and the occasional strip of duct tape. Under normal circumstances I would have medicated myself into an induced coma, but as I was traveling with a guardian angel, I left well enough alone. After a few minutes the stewardess returned with a pen and a pad of paper.
“Am I a fugitive on the run,” I wrote.
“No, a note was left at the front office for the authorities in your hand. It explained what you saw, what events transpired before the incident, and that with everything that had just happened with Amber Peck in Ocala, Florida, you were leaving the country indefinitely to get your head on strait. And I left an email address for them if they needed to question you further. As for Lisa's family, you sent her mother and sister very eloquent letters discussing how this act had been a breaking point for you, but not to worry you would return when you had collected your thoughts.”
“What about our family,” I wrote.
“The same, Mom, Dad and our sister have a letter explaining your break down – and that you'll be back when you can. Everyone has the same email, and I will make sure you have a moment to check it. I don't expect that this is going to take long – now that you understand what's going on.”
“How am I going to do this? I'm not a comic book character, I have no super powers. Hell, I've never even been in a fight. How am I supposed to defeat the man who chased me from our mother? I am terrified brother.”
“You should be terrified. Dwayne is evil – with every understanding of the word. He will do everything in his power to capitalize on your fear of him. Maybe I was foolish to say that you know what is at stake. Do you Rose? Do you know just exactly what's at stake here?”
“Lisa's soul, right?”
“(sigh) Yes, but so is yours, and every one you know. If Dwayne wins this battle, all is lost. With your demise comes the end of any happiness for those that knew and loved the 3 of you. The tragedy of losing the 3 of you so close together would be so devastating that Lucifer's numbers would increase drastically and Dwayne would be his prized bounty hunter. No one would ever be free of that man, not even me.”
My eyes closed, and my chest tightened with pressure that I wasn't prepared for.
“This is too big Josh. I am only one person. I can't do this.”
“You have a strength inside you – that is astounding. But you've never had to tap into it on your own. Someone has always been there to urge you on. That's why I was put into active duty so to speak. I was never supposed appear before you. My job has always been to move or inspire you. You maybe angry with Him, but God hasn't abandoned you – not in the way you believe.”
A tear took a swan dive from the corner of my eye.
“Why am I going to Antigua?”
“Nice transition (smiley face), there is a cave that is about a days journey away. As cliché as it may seem, in the bowels of this dank place is Dwayne's lair and it is there that you must face him.”
The click of the pen as the tip disappeared into its plastic housing echoed throughout the cabin. It was late now, and everyone on the plane had succumbed to sleep. I pulled the complimentary blanket over my shoulders, and curled into the window of the plane. The blanket reeked of must and mildew, but I paid it no mind. There was a light blinking over the wing that hypnotized with every green flash. An aching emptiness was taking a hold of me, and there seemed to be nothing I could do to relinquish its grip. Amber's murder had brought with it a numbing chill – but Lisa's suicide – it brought with it the end of everything that I had been. There was no joy in my eyes. There was no song in my heart. I was a husk – a shell of my former being. I barely had the energy to close my eyes, and I was expected to succeed where only fools dared to tread. Nothing was going to ready me for tomorrow, so I shut my eyes and fell into a disjointed sleep.
Images of blood, bullets, and screams furrowed my brow. The silent tears as my mother was roared at by Dwayne. The cowering fear as Dwayne turned his rage on me. His demonic blue eyes. His ever snaring smile. The malice causing the friction and tension in his flexing muscles. Amber's blood. Lisa's blood. My mother's bruised neck. All the nights I spent panicked under the covers in my bedroom waiting for Dwayne to finally make good on his word and kill me in my sleep. These moments moved through my mind in a flip-book strobe of raving madness. But I couldn't wake. I lay in my cushioned seat, buckled in and ready for the next wave of nightmares. The ebb and flow of hate rolled over me until we landed in Antigua.
It wasn't until I was checked into the Jungle Party Hostel that Josh appeared once more.
“Okay, you need to go to the front desk and set up a day trip to Semuc Champey. You'll be with a group, so this maybe difficult, but you will have to separate from everyone before leaving the cave.”
I continued fussing with the sheets and blankets on the top bunk, which was where I was going to be sleeping.
“What if I can't,” I said.
“You can and will. Remember what Yoda said? 'Try not, Do. Or do not, there is no try.'”
“Did you seriously just drop an Empire Strikes Back reference on me,” I laughed.
“Uh, no, but I can if that's what a guy's got to do to get your attention,” said a very British voice behind me.
I turned to see a tall, beach-bummed blonde gentleman standing behind me. He had moved into the room with all the silent stealth of a trained ninja. The door hadn't creaked for him, nor had the bottom bunk beside me when he dropped his back-packing knapsack on the flimsy mattress. And while I thought I had been conversing with Josh, this young traveler had put up a clothing rack loaded with his wet laundry. He had eyes the color of Caribbean, and they sparkled like the water on a sunny summer day.
My cheeks were warm and red with a blush, “Uh, I guess I should inform you that I have never let go of my imaginary friend. And we were just in the midst of a heated debate,” I said with a small grin.
He laughed, “Well everyone's got their vices. Hi, I'm Jason, pleasure to meet you,” he said holding out his hand.
“Rose. That's quite a spread you've got there,” I said gesturing to his clothing rack, “In all my travels, I don't think I've come across someone as organized.”
Jason smiled, “Its a money saver, so its worth the weight in my pack,” he said with a wink.
“So where are you from? I detect a States accent.”
“You are correct sir, I'm from all over actually. In fact I'd say I am currently without a State, because I can't go back to two of the States I was just in.”
“Are you on the run,” Jason asked intrigued, “you really don't look like the type of girl that'd be hiding from the law.”
“Well...Two weeks ago my best friend was murdered in Florida, and just yesterday, our best friend ate her gun in Tennessee. I was living in Florida at the time of the murder, and well I was staying with my friend when she decided to take her life. I know that is way too personal after only five minutes of casual chat, but...whatever...I am beyond common etiquette at this point.”
He nodded, “That is a heavy load of bollocks, and I can't say that I blame you. I was about to leave for a drink, you care to join me?”
“Absolutely. I just have to stop off at the front desk before we head out. I have to set up a day trip.”
“No worries, I've got to find a shirt that's clean and dry.”
We walked in silence for a few minutes soaking up the cobblestones and vibrant colors painting the quirky town. Antigua was in a valley and was surrounded by mountainous volcanoes. The tallest, Agua, was inactive, but the one south of our hostel was called Pacaya, and it had erupted a week before our arrival. Not far from where we were staying, Jason and I found a bar that reminded him of the “pubs back home in merry ol' London.”
“So tell me, does anyone know where in the world you are, or did you just run away when the shit hit the fan?”
“I ran away, but can you blame me? I feel marked,” I admitted stirring my rum and coke with a thin, black straw.
“Marked? Like for death?”
“Yeah. I mean, two head shots in two weeks? I feel like I should be wearing a Kevlar helmet right now, or that I should be locked away from everyone so they don't meet the same fate as my two friends. I am either marked for death, or cursed, either way, your odds of survival lessen every second you sit next in this chair beside me.”
“I have always been a man who loved living dangerously, I will take my chances thank you very much.”
I chuckled, “Thank you for taking me out. I needed a break from all the seriousness life has bestowed upon me.”
“In other words you really needed to get pissed drunk?”
“Yes! Exactly! What can't be dealt with at the bottom of liquor bottle? Nothing, that's what.”
Jason laughed, and clinked his glass against mine, “Cheers, I will drink to that.”
“I don't mean to be presumptuous, but I think there is a book you need to read...Well a couple actually...if you haven't already.”
“Lay 'em on me,” I said.
“One, the Alchemist by Paulo Cuehlo. And the other is Hell's Angels....”
“Ahhh, Doc Thompson. Hell's Angels - “The Edge, there is no honest way to explain it, for the only ones who really know where it is have gone over.””
“Brilliant! You are seriously one of the coolest girls I've had the pleasure of meeting. You've read Thompson...fucking brilliant.”
“Yeah, well I get around, Literary speaking, of course,” I said with a laugh. “I've actually read both of them, but my question for you, is why do you think I need to read them at this moment in my life?”
All Material is under Copyright to Nellie Rose Daft May 2011
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