As I Breathe (One Breath at a Time: Book 2) (8 page)

-5-

Puppy Love!

Doctor Tagorski stared at me; the expression on his face unfathomable. I’m sure he was trying to hide the shock he must’ve been thinking. “You’re doing great, Miss Eden. I’m just going to give you a little more sodium pentothal.”

Not again. My memories jumbled. The jolt in my mind came more powerful this time. The colorful lights in my eyes shifted to a gray area. The memories scattered, and I felt sick with nausea. Drugs never suited me well, even prescribed ones.

It’s me, a vision of me—I’m seven years old. Good grief, talk about a mind fuck. Just as I’d gotten into remembering my life as a spoiled teenager, perhaps some things I wanted to forget, I was back to embracing my inner child again!

I was with my family, spending a typical Sunday afternoon in Central Park. As usual, I was off playing by myself on the swing set when a man pulled
up to the curb in a shiny red sports car. He waved to me to come over to his car.

“
Hey little girl, do you want a puppy?” the man called out to me from the open window.

My eyes lit up when I saw the little puppy jumping up and down in the passenger’s seat. I leapt off the swing seat into the air and quickly approached his vehicle.

The man in the car had long wavy jet-black hair and a long mustache covering his upper lip that he licked with the tip of his tongue when he spoke. I noticed that he had the coolest tattoo on his bicep of a thick black cross. In my innocent mind, at the time, the tattoo advertised that he was a good man.

He probably goes to church, I thought.

“Sure,” I replied. The sun caused me to squint. Still, I stayed on the far side of the curb, my feet still in the grass, craning my neck forward to see into his car. My eyes honed in on the puppy. It was white with extra long floppy black ears.

“
It’s a girl puppy. She’s pretty, huh? Just like you.” The man flashed me a hungry grin. At closer range, I couldn’t help but think he looked like the big, bad wolf.

“
Yeah, what’s her name?”

He was right the puppy was so adorable. My eyes flashed back to my parents. They were distracted and not paying attention to me, and instead tended to my little brother, Brett, who had just fallen off the monkey bars. I could hear him screaming his head off like he was dying. He was such a little crybaby, and it seemed like he was always getting hurt. I inched a tad closer to the car, in order to get a better look at the puppy.

“If you want her, you can name her whatever you want.”

“
Really? You’re really going to give me your puppy?”

“
Yes.” The man smiled at me.

My heart swelled with elation because I had been begging my parents for a puppy. They said if one magically landed in my lap that I could keep it. Of course, I didn’t know at the time this was their way of saying,
“No!”
Age has a way of teaching us how to twist our words in such a way so that the outcome tilts in our favor.

Looking back, I’m sure that my parents were certain that a puppy wasn’t going to magically materialize in my lap. Of course, what they didn’t know was that I had a few angels that could make this happen. I was about to get my very own puppy! This puppy was a gift from God!

I was so excited I almost forgot my manners. “Thank you so much! I’ve always wanted a puppy!”

“
Here, come closer so you can pet her—that way you can see if you two like each other.”

I glanced toward my parents again. Brett was still wailing his head off.

The man sensed my hesitation—after all most children know well enough not to talk to strangers. I certainly knew as much, but for a puppy, I was willing to break all the rules. The man was kind and reassured me that it was okay to come closer. He told me he had a little girl, too.

He explained that he had bought the puppy for his daughter as a gift on her seventh birthday, but she’d gotten really sick and went to Heaven—she was the same age as me. How awful! Tears loomed in his eyes as he relayed the story. A feeling of sorrow filled my soul too.

“I will give her to you if you promise to take good care of her for my little girl, Mandy.” His daughter’s name rhymed with my mother’s name. That was a good sign.

“
Oh, yes. I will. I promise,” I said, genuinely meaning it.

“
Cross your heart and hope to die, then.”

“
I will cross my heart...and hope,” I paused and said, “but I can’t say the die part.” I bit my lip, squinting my eyes into the sun. I really wanted the puppy but not enough to die for. I peered at the man, worried now he wouldn’t give her to me.

“
Okay, I guess you don’t have to say it all. But, if you want her, you will have to get into my car so that she doesn’t run into the street.” His smile disappeared into a straight line as he said the words. “Of course, I can ask another little girl if you don’t want her.” He frowned and drove the car a foot ahead of me. He was going to leave.

“
No. I do. I really do!” I insisted with strong conviction.

I rocked my feet on the edge of the curb, feeling a bit nervous about getting in his car. But, I wanted this puppy more than anything. So, I did my best to push any fear aside.

My heels slid off the curb and into the street, standing on my tiptoes, raising my eyes over the rim of the half-rolled down window. Inside I could clearly see the puppy wagging her tail, filled with the same excitement I’d felt.

The seat she jumped on was covered in blue vinyl, smeared with inky-red stains and holes that expelled dirty yellow padding.
Pew
... I tried not to pull away as the stench of stale fast food, exhaust fumes, and cigarettes assaulted my nose.

My hand was on the door handle, and I could feel my heart thumping rapidly. I was only seconds away from owning a new little puppy.

In a fissure of my mind, I heard the loudest angel, the one I called Storm, rambling on about something. The other angels didn’t come around as much anymore. What Storm was ranting about was pure babble, if you asked me. He usually did this when I was having fun with someone other than him. So, I did what I normally would do when he carried on as such; I ignored him. I figured that Storm was jealous and had suddenly changed his mind about blessing me with the new puppy.

I also figured Storm probably recognized that the puppy would steal my attention away from his invisible presence. It wasn’t as if I could hug Storm as I could the sweet puppy. The puppy was tangible, and Storm was just a voice. Yep, if I could have seen Storm, I was sure he was a green-eyed monster. Until I had the pup in my lap, tuning him out was the only solution I could think of.

I pulled back on the rusty old door handle. When the car door swung open, the man leaped across the seat at me, nearly grazing my arm. I froze at the sight of him, but something, a powerful force, yanked me backwards. Upon closer glance, my eyes widened, the man in the car was stark naked from the waist down.

Storm’s voice broke through the barriers of my mind, and he charged into my head like a raging bull, his target—me—the red blanket waving in the wind. Yikes! Storm’s voice swallowed me whole. He had never yelled so loud before. He sounded extremely mad. Of course, he wasn’t angry with me but, instead, at the situation. As he roared, I could almost imagine his nostrils flaring and big ivory horns on the top of his head.

“Arghhh, get the hell away from the car, Brielle! Run, run away... fast!” played like a broken record in my mind.

His voice beat against the walls of my brain. “Run, Brielle, run! Scream at the top of your lungs and run away as fast as you can!”

Without hesitation, I jumped into the air and ran as fast as I could. I was moving so quickly that it actually felt as if my feet weren’t touching the ground. It was almost as if I flew back to my parents. Tears were streaming down my face. I screamed out loud for so many reasons, but mostly, because I was empty handed—I wanted that puppy.

My father heard my screams and raced towards me. He swept me off my feet into his arms, holding me so tightly that I could hardly breathe. The man in the car quickly sped away. As he vanished, so did my chances to own a puppy.

Storm really scared the shit out of me, almost as much as the naked man did. Storm sometimes had such a potty mouth, and he accidentally used curse words when I wouldn’t listen to him. I was certain the use of the
hell
word was inappropriate language for an angel. If he kept this up, he would never get his wings.

My parents immediately called the police. When they arrived at the park, they asked me all sorts of questions about the man. In a state of shock, I couldn’t answer their questions. It was as if my mind turned to muddy thick soup. Storm tried to cue me in on what to say, but I was blank. The police followed us to our home. They felt I might remember things away from the scene of the crime, safe at home, where I’d be more comfortable.

“Brielle, the two nice police officers are still downstairs wondering if you could try again to answer some of their questions now.” My mother’s words were strained and her fingers knotted together nervously. “Can you come down with me?” She reached out her hand toward me, and I slipped my hand into hers. There was an odd silence between us as we made our way down the stairs.

The female police officer was the first to approach me. She spoke to me as if I was a toddler, in very juvenile terms, not recognizing how precocious I was for my age. I was seven not three. She told me that the man in the car was a ‘
very, very naughty man
,’ and that they needed to find him because he had done bad things to other little girls.

“
Sweetie, can you remember anything that happened at the park today?”

“
I think so,” I replied.

“
Okay...” The female officer knelt down on one knee beside me. “What did the man in the car look like?”

“
Uh,” I murmured and looked at my parents.

“
Did he have dark hair or light hair?” she asked.

My eyes scanned around the room. Suddenly, all of the details came rushing back to me.

“His hair was all messy, and really, really, dark black.” I paused, rolling my eyes up into my head, remembering. “He was really ugly and had big yellow teeth like a wolf and squinty black eyes...and...” I paused again, biting my lower lip. I preferred when the police lady asked me multiple-choice questions.

“
What was he wearing?” the female officered asked.

I hemmed and hawed because I was embarrassed to tell them what he was wearing. “Uh, a black t-shirt, I think. But his body looked like Jesus, kind of...”—I sucked in my bottom lip—“like when he was on the cross, like that.” I pointed at two bookends in our bookcase.

The officers’ eyes darted to the figurines—replicas of Jesus Christ on the cross. Their faces filled with hidden anger. At the time, I didn’t recognize the magnitude of what could have happened to me. Instinctually, I knew it wasn’t good.

I stepped closer to my Dad, and he pulled me onto his lap and held me tightly, and my mom paced the room. She always did this when she was upset. My parents were very protective of me, except of course, when Brett was stealing all of
their attention, which might explain part of why this had happened.

“
You mean he didn’t have any clothes on?” the officer asked.

From the corner of my eye, I could see my mother’s face crumble. Her eyes squeezed shut, lips pulled inward and a tear streamed down her face.

I sighed.

My dad said reassuringly, “It’s okay Brielle, you can tell them. Trust me, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

The male officer piped in, “You’re father is right...this wasn’t your fault. We need to find this man so he can be punished. We don’t want him to hurt any other little girls.”

I turned toward my dad and felt quiet tears falling from my eyes. I wasn’t crying for the wolf-like man, only that I felt pressured and ashamed that I’d seen a naked man.

“Sam, please.” The female officer shook her head then whispered to him, ‘I think that may have frightened her. It’s too much.” She was trying to be discreet, but I heard her anyway. The male officer stepped back.

The female officer looked at my dad. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she is fine. Baby, can you tell Daddy what the man was wearing?”

“
Daddy...he didn’t have any pants on, not even the little cloth that Jesus wears. It was really gross.” I hugged my father, burying my face into his chest. My mother raced to my side too.

I told the police officers the one last thing I could remember about the man, his cross tattoo, which turned out to be a very important detail. I learned that day the sign of a cross-tattooed on someone’s arms didn’t necessarily indicate they’re a good person.

“Thank you so much, Brielle. You’ve been very helpful.” The female officer pulled a cherry lollipop from her pocket and handed it to me. My eyes flashed up to my mother.

I regretfully sighed, “Sorry. I’m not allowed to take candy from strangers.”