Bird Song (35 page)

Read Bird Song Online

Authors: S. L. Naeole

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fantasy, #Fiction

BOOK: Bird Song
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“I’ll try,” I said and headed towards the exit, trying my best to remember where it was.
 
When I stepped outside, I realized that I had left my coat and gloves at the hospital.
 
The cold, February air still had a vicious bite to it and I knew I’d freeze to death if I remained out dressed the way I was.

With rushed steps, I hurried back inside and sat on a bench that was bolted to the floor and wall.
 
It was a full thirty minutes later before my dad finally showed up.
 
He was so angry, he blew right past me and was halfway down the hallway before he heard me calling out to him.

“Grace!” he shouted.
 
He ran back towards me and wrapped his arms around me, his breathing heavy and erratic.
 
“I’m going to kill that doctor for putting us through this.
 
If I ever see him again, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

I giggled as I really couldn’t find any fault with his reasoning for it.
 
At least, not when it came to him.
 
I took a look at his face and then burst out laughing.
 
“Dad.
 
Um…have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror?”

He growled and nodded.
 
“Yes.
 
That twisted so-called doctor drugged me and left me in the Art room in the Children’s ward.”

He raced to a display case and inspected his reflection while I snickered behind him.
 
He turned around and I burst out into loud laughter once again.
 
It appeared that, while passed out, the children in the Children’s ward had felt a need to use Dad’s face and hair as their own living canvas.

Half of his face was painted a bright purple with orange spots dotted below his right eye and at the corner of his mouth.
 
The other half of his face had been painted with alternating black and white stripes, followed with what appeared to be hot pink glittered glue.
 
His hair had streaks of yellow and green paint, and the slightly bald spot that neared his hairline had been filled with the same hot pink glue, although he must have moved while it had been drying because it clumped over to the side.

Dad tried to grit his teeth but even that failed when they squeaked from the crayon that had been rubbed against them, making them a streaky olive-green.
 
“Is this what I have to look forward to with Matthew?”

I nodded between laughs, pressing against the tightness that was building in my side.
 
“Boy am I glad I’ll be away at college when that starts.”

He sighed, my words a sobering reality that neither of us had been ready for, despite my utterance.
 
“Just a few more months, kiddo,” he said resignedly.
 
“A few more months before you’re on your own.
 
You’re not my little girl anymore.”

“Aw Dad,” I groaned.
 
“Do we have to do this in the middle of a police station?”

He immediately straightened and, as if suddenly remembering why we were here in the first place, became intensely serious.
 
“What happened?
 
Tell me everything, give me the names of the officers who questioned you, everything.”

“I’ll do it on the way to the car,” I promised, and so I did, leaving out nothing except the part where the officer named Charlie had said that they were bringing in Mr.
Branke
in less than an hour.

***

It would be less than twenty-four hours later when the news we hadn’t expected threatened to tear apart the little bit of security that had been formed knowing that Mr.
Branke
would be behind bars.

“Grace,” Dad called out from downstairs.
 
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, my mouth full of toothpaste foam.


Wha
?” I shouted, spraying foam all across the reflective glass.

“Come downstairs.
 
Now.”

I quickly rinsed out my mouth and rushed downstairs to see Dad and Janice sitting on one side of the sofa, Graham’s pillow and blankets all piled on the opposite end.

In Dad’s favorite chair sat one of the officers from the hospital, his hat in his lap.
 
The look on all three of their faces told me that something wasn’t right, something was not right at all.

“What’s going on?”

Dad glared at the police officer while Janice shook her head disapprovingly.

Taking a deep breath, the officer began to repeat to me what it appeared everyone else already knew as I suddenly became aware of Graham stomping around in the kitchen.

“Grace, as I told your parents already, I’m afraid that after speaking to Mr.
Branke
and following up on his statement, it appears that he has an alibi for the night you were hit.
 
We also examined his car and there’s no damage to it.
 
At least, nothing that would result from hitting someone on a bicycle.
 
He’s not the person who hit you, Grace.”

The weight of his words seemed to transplant onto me as he sighed from the release of them.
 
I shook my head in denial.
 
“I know what I saw.
 
I saw his shoes.
 
They’re the same shoes, the exact same shoes,” I argued.

The officer nodded in understanding and offered me a hand for comfort but I jerked away.
 
He sighed once more and tried to explain.
 
“Grace, I know you want to believe that it was Mr.
Branke
that did this, but please understand that we checked and double checked his alibi.
 
He was teaching a weekend biology course at the community college.
 
There are fifty eye-witnesses that place him in class.
 
He didn’t do this, I’m sorry.”

I didn’t want to believe it.
 
I couldn’t believe it.
 
“When you brought Mr.
Branke
in…was it while he was still in school?”

The officer nodded.
 
“Yes, actually.
 
He was in the middle of some kind of afterschool science club meeting.
 
There were quite a few angry students there, I must say.”

I groaned as the repercussions from my implicating Mr.
Branke
became clear to me.
 
As creepy as Mr.
Branke
might be, he was a respected teacher by many kids, and I had just accused him of nearly killing me and leaving me on the side of the road to die.
 
I had sealed his reputation to those who had already disliked him and tarnished it to those who didn’t.

“Oh no, what have I done?” I moaned, the pounding in my head returning.
 
“Oh, what have I done?”

Graham came out of the kitchen and grabbed my arm, yanking me up the stairs and towards my room.
 
“Don’t worry about it, Grace.
 
I’m not going to let anyone use this against you,” he vowed as he sat me down on my bed.
 
He walked to the door and shut it so that they couldn’t hear us downstairs.
 
“If you still believe that Mr.
Branke
did this, we’ll find a way to prove it, Grace.
 
But…do you?
 
Do you still think it was him?
 
I won’t question you if you don’t.”

 
I looked at him through foggy eyes.
 
“I don’t know.
 
I don’t know anymore.
 
I saw his shoes and I could have sworn that he was the guy.
 
I felt the connection there, Graham.
 
I know I did.”

He sat down beside me and placed his arm around my shoulders, giving them a gentle and reassuring squeeze.
 
“You did the only thing you could do.
 
I’m not that bright, but I can see that and so will everyone else.”

I nodded but felt unsure.
 
I didn’t know what Mr.
Branke’s
arrest had left in its wake, and I was terrified of finding out.
 
But more importantly, I was afraid of what would happen when I would eventually see him in class.
 
I would have to apologize to him—I wanted to apologize to him—but I didn’t know if I had the courage to do so.

“Hey, where’s Robert been?
 
Shouldn’t he have stopped over or something yesterday?” Graham asked.

I stared at the empty wall near the door and shrugged my shoulders.
 
“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’ll take you to school today then.
 
I’ll stick by your side like glue all day, okay?”

The thought of Graham being permanently attached to my side would have probably made my day if I were any other girl, but I wasn’t just any other girl.
 
“I’ll be fine, Graham.
 
But I’ll accept your ride to school.”

He nodded and stood up.
 
“Well, if I’m going to be playing bodyguard, I need to fuel up.
 
Janice made some real bacon today, so I’m going to stuff my face while you get ready.”

He left, quietly shutting the door behind him, and I waited until I could no longer hear the thumping of his heavy footsteps before I turned around on my bed and opened my window.
 
I looked at the police car parked conspicuously in our driveway, saw the faces of the neighbors who had gathered across the street to point and whisper behind raised hands about why it could possibly be parked there.

One of them, a Mrs. Gladys
Fallacci
, saw me peering from out of the window and she waved, embarrassed that she had been spied gossiping yet smug all the same because the car wasn’t parked in front of
her
house.

I quickly shut the window and yanked the curtain closed over it.
 
“Every single time I think I’m getting close to being normal, something comes up and changes everything.”

I rummaged through my drawers for something to wear to school and settled on a pair of old, camouflage pants and a plain black t-shirt.
 
I was heading into battle; I might as well dress like it.
 
I was pulling on my boots when Graham knocked on my door to see if I was ready to leave.

“I’ll be there in a second,” I called out in response and began to tie my laces.
 
I looked over to my dresser and saw the picture of Robert and I that Janice had taken last October.
 
“Where are you?” I asked silently.

With a heavy heart, I grabbed my bag and hoisted it onto my shoulders.
 
I opened my door and did my best to put on a brave face as we walked downstairs together.
 
I grabbed my jacket—Dad had remembered to grab it from the hospital—and walked with Graham to his car, ignoring the officer and the concerned looks on Dad and Janice’s faces.

He was in the middle of unlocking the passenger door when the sound of an engine revving behind us alerted us to the presence of another person.

“Your boyfriend is here,” Graham snapped as he fumbled with the keys in his heavily gloved hands.

Robert’s black motorcycle stood out against the white of the snow covered street but it paled in comparison to the jet of his hair.
 
His gray eyes were like cold steel as they glared at Graham, but turned molten the minute he looked at me.
 
“Are you okay?”

I nodded, immediately feeling calm and relaxed.
 
“I’m okay.”

Graham snorted.
 
“Of course she’s okay.
 
She wouldn’t be heading off to school if she wasn’t.”
 
He looked at me and grunted as he shook his head.
 
“Whatever it is he has on you, I hope it’s good, Grace.
 
He should have been here today.
 
He should have been there yesterday, too, instead of me.”

With a negligent wave of his hand, Graham climbed into his rusty green Buick and drove off, leaving a cloud of brown smoke trailing behind him.

I knew there was no point, but I couldn’t help but yell for him to wait.
 
I looked at Robert and sighed.
 
“You always have a way of making things instantly easier and more difficult without even saying anything.
 
Is that another one of your charms?”

Robert’s face didn’t alter in its concern.
 
He reached for me instead and pulled me into him, his chest my buffer.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here for you.
 
There are a lot of reasons, but none of them are good enough.
 
None of them will ever be good enough.”

I inhaled the scent of him, drugging myself, numbing myself to anything else.
 
“There isn’t a way you can reverse time, is there?” I asked him.

He held me tighter and shook his head.
 
“If I could, I’d have come back when you were born.”

Strangely, this comforted me.
 
“What am I going to do, Robert?
 
I might have ruined an innocent man’s life.
 
Ugh—why can’t I just be normal and not such a colossal screw-up?”

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