Falling From Grace (77 page)

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, feeling the cold bite against my body and reluctantly pulled myself closer to him.

He was silent and I didn’t ask any more questions; the dark look on his face terrifying me into a mutual silence.
 
We traveled through the frigid night with an eerie stillness between us, the icy air nipping at me through the tears in my clothing.
 
When he started to drift downwards, I realized that he had brought me to the spot where the accident that had taken my mother’s life had occurred.
 
I had been here many times since in my own journey to discover for myself what had happened.
 
It hadn’t changed much in eleven years.

Robert’s feet landed on the ground softly, his wings ruffling behind us, but he did not put me down.
 
Instead, he walked over to a small section of brush and turned so we faced the road.

He was looking away from town so I stared in the same direction.
 
I saw the bright beam of headlights approaching and I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the glare.
 
Suddenly, I heard the tires screech and watched in horror as the car swerved to the right before it went careening out of control towards a utility pole.
 
Just before it hit, an intense light filled the inside of the car that looked like an explosion.
 
Robert was moving quickly.
 
He brought me to the side of the vehicle and I peered in.
 
In the driver’s seat with her seatbelt still on was my mother.

Comprehension dawned on me then
—
Robert was showing me what had happened the night my mother had died.
 
This was a vision that he was sharing with me…but it felt all too real.

I turned to look at his face but he motioned for me to watch.
 
I turned my face back to see what I had been trying for so long, so hard to remember.
 
And like pressing the play button after a long pause, it all came back to me.

“Grace, Grace baby, are you okay?” the woman called out to the little girl in the back seat.

“Yes, Mommy,” a small voice answered.

The woman unbuckled her seat belt and turned around, reaching a bloody hand out to the little girl who took it and held onto it fiercely with dogged determination.
 
“Grace, I want you to listen to Mommy, okay?” the woman asked in between the rough, fluid filled coughs that shook her body.
 
“Listen, honey, I want you to say Mommy’s prayer with me, okay?
 
Can you say Mommy’s prayer?”

The little girl nodded her head.
 
“Yes, I can say it.”

“Good girl.”

They began reciting the Psalm, and I recited with them.
 
“…He’ll cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge…”

The vehicle once again began to fill with an intense light.
 
I heard the woman’s voice as it spoke again, “Grace, my precious baby girl.
 
Mommy’s got to say goodbye now, okay?
 
It is time for Mommy to go to Heaven, but I promise…I promise that you will be safe.
 
You will be safe and you will be happy.
 
Everything will be alright.”

The little girl in the car began to cry, her hands tugging on the woman’s with frantic urgency.
 
“No, Mommy.
 
You only go to Heaven when you die.
 
You’re not going to die, Mommy.
 
Don’t leave me, Mommy!”

“Sweet Grace,” the woman cooed, her voice growing faint with each breath.
 
“Don’t fear death.
 
Death is a blessing, remember?
 
One day, death will be your savior, and you will understand everything.
 
Now, close your eyes to the light, sweetheart; let the darkness protect you.
 
I love you.
 
I never wanted anything more than you.
 
I love you, Grace.”

And then the bright light became so intense, I could no longer see.
 
An explosion scorched the brush around us, and I watched in horror as a monstrous ball of fire engulfed the car, consuming it.
 
I cried out for my mother, but she couldn’t hear me.
 
The force of the explosion had knocked over a utility pole, which set off a domino effect of poles tumbling down sideways along the shoulder.
 
The sound rattled my teeth, but I did not feel the shaking of the ground as they landed.

I couldn’t feel the heat of the flames, and I didn’t know if it was because this was only a vision, or if it was because my entire body had grown cold with the knowledge that for the second time in my life, I had witnessed my mother’s death.

Out of the corner of my narrowed eyes I saw a movement on the ground several dozen feet in front of the flames.
 
I scrutinized the motion and saw that it was body of the little girl.
 
She was laying peacefully in the road as if someone had laid her there, her hand held out for comfort even in unconsciousness.
 
I didn’t know how she got there, but I felt an urge to hold that hand; I gasped in surprise when Robert put me down, understanding my need.
 
I ran towards her, slowing down to kneel on the crumbling asphalt beside her and held her outstretched hand.
 
She continued to sleep, a sweet smile now on her face.
 

Far off behind the burning car, I could see advancing lights; the first person on the scene was arriving.
 
I had never known who it was that had arrived and called the police
—
Dad had never told me
—
but now was my chance to see for myself who was responsible for saving my life that night.
 

The lights belonged to a large maroon van; the driver got out and started speaking in a foreign language to the passenger.
 
I watched as the he walked hesitantly around the blazing car, taking note of the burning debris scattered all around him, and then gasp and run over to where I was kneeling.
 
He ran completely through me, as if I wasn’t there
—
in truth, I wasn’t
—
and grabbed the little girl’s hand.
 
He felt how warm she was, saw the rise and fall of her small chest, that she was still alive, and picked her up, running with her in his arms towards the van.
 
I couldn’t help but follow him, the little girl now my only lifeline to this entire scene.

He shouted more words that I didn’t understand as he was running and the sliding door of the van opened up to reveal an extremely large amount of children inside, all of them dark headed boys with mischievous grins.
 
The person sitting in the front-passenger seat, a woman, was speaking into a large cellular phone, repeating in broken English that a little girl had been found on the road next to a horrible car fire.
 
The boys were all staring in awe at the little girl; one of them looked strangely familiar.

“Sean, get your water from the back.
 
We have to give her some water,” the driver told the familiar looking boy and I recognized then that this was Stacy’s family.
 
She wasn’t in the van with them, I acknowledged, because she had been sick in the hospital at the time.

Sean did as he was instructed and the father gave the little girl a small swipe of liquid against her mouth.
 
He felt her skin and shook his head in surprise.
 
“She isn’t burning up.
 
I don’t understand.
 
She was so close to the fire, she should be hot to the touch, but she isn’t.”

And so the first of the superfreak stories would begin, I thought to myself.

I felt Robert’s hand on my shoulder and I turned to face him.
 
“Stacy’s family was the one who called for help.
 
I didn’t know that.”
 
I turned around to watch what would happen next, but it was all gone.
 
“Where did it go?
 
Bring it back, Robert!
 
I need to see the rest!”

“That is all that I can show you, Grace.
 
I shouldn’t have even shown you that.
 
It isn’t good to bring you back to your past, especially when you’re so undecided about your present.”
 
His voice was brusque, distant.

I nodded reluctantly, understanding what it was that he had meant, and turned my face back to his.
 
“Thank you.”

He gave me a curt nod and repeated the same motions he had in my room, placing my arms around his neck and then picking me up, placing an arm beneath my knees, the other at my back.
 
He leapt into the air and then we were flying again, his wings spread out behind us like a cloak of midnight against the starry sky.
 
I placed my head into the hollow of his neck, feeling strangely at ease and content as I listened to the air rustle against his feathers.
 
“Thank you, Robert.
 
Thank you for giving my mother back to me.”

He didn’t say anything on the way back to my room.
 
As we floated in through the window, I noticed that his wings had disappeared.
 
I felt disappointed; I was getting used to seeing them.

When his feet softly landed on the floor and he began to lower me, I held on, not wanting to let him go without first telling him…

“Robert, I don’t know how, but my mother knew
—
she knew that one day you’d come into my life.
 
That’s what she was telling me.
 
I remember now.
 
At the cemetery before she died, she told me that death brought love.
 
She told me that I had to appreciate it, and accept it.
 
I was too young to understand what she meant, but now I do.
 
She was telling me to welcome you, to not blame you for what you had to do.”

I lifted a hand to his face to make him look at me.
 
His beautiful eyes seemed so lost, and I knew that I was the reason.
 
I squirmed enough so that he set me down and I pulled him to the bed to sit.
 
I grabbed his hand and placed it over my heart while placing mine over the spot where his would have been.
 
“But my mother was wrong
—
death doesn’t bring love.
 
You
are
love.
 
You…your love, it’s a part of me.”

I watched as the cold steel of his eyes, like quicksilver, melted into two pools of mercury.
 
He covered my hand on his chest with his, and brought it to his lips.
 
You are the only thing that tempts me into acts that would lead me to fall from grace.
 
I cannot even begin to explain to you just how great a weakness you are for me.
 
When I learned what Sam had done-

“How did you know?” I asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Lark.
 
She was in pain, I could feel it, but I didn’t know why.
 
She didn’t know why until she tried to reach out to you and saw Sam’s face in your thoughts.
 
She knew then why she had been in pain; she had been lying when she kept saying that I was going to be meeting you without telling her.
 
The lie hadn’t been hers, which is why the pain was more an annoyance than anything else, but she didn’t recognize it for what it was, didn’t think that you’d be lying to her about me.

But, when I learned what Sam had done—when I learned that he had deceived you—I knew that you were in danger and the call stopped.
 
The singing stopped, Grace, and I left it all behind to get to you.
 
You are my first priority.
 
I couldn’t hear anything, focus on anything while knowing that you were in danger.

He pulled me into his lap, his hand still pressed against my heart, and kissed my forehead.
 
I tried to get to you as fast as I could.
 
I knew I was close when I could hear your thoughts.
 
I could feel your fear, and I heard your prayer.
 
I heard it and it was like driving a burning stake through my heart because I couldn’t do anything to help you.

He pressed his forehead to mine and I saw the visions in his head as he relived the moment again.
 
He was traveling so fast, everything was a blur of lines and colors.
 
He slowed down as he approached the field, and was taken aback by the scene that lay before him.
 
The field was awash with the combined light of two figures who struggled with each other.
 
The larger of the two had his hand around the other’s throat, and was lifting her off of the ground.

The smaller figure’s pale glow began to spread out quickly, and her attacker let go with stunning speed.
 
As his arm retreated, it pulled with it the light that was now all over his victim, a sticky string of radiance that grew as it fed on his own.
 
The light crept up his arm, increasing in size until it engulfed him completely, drowning out his own yellow glow.