The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart: A Hart Brothers Novel (9 page)

“Does Father Anthony know you walk around
like this, without a phone?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t speak to
him of these things.”

“I’m going to talk to him about this. In
this day and age, it’s simply unsafe.”

“Fine, but Sister Helena won’t be happy. Now
can we change the subject because you’re beating the proverbial
dead horse?”

It’s my turn to laugh. “Right. Want to watch
a movie then?”

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

“My brothers and I are addicted to the old
Star Wars Trilogy. You up for that?”

“Sounds good to me. I love Star Wars. I’m a
sci-fi fan. I’ve always fancied that aliens exist anyway.”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? It’s a possibility.”

“I suppose. I guess it’s rather small minded
of humans to think we are the only intelligent life out here in
this vast universe. But doesn’t that go against all Bible
teachings?”

She takes her lower lip into her mouth and
her upper teeth perch on it, much like a rabbit’s would. I’m
beginning to realize it’s a trademark habit of hers when she’s deep
in thought.

“I’ll admit I’m a bit conflicted on this
subject. I believe in the scientific theory of evolution. But don’t
tell Sister Helena,” she whispers.

Her remark makes me laugh. “I already told
you I’m an excellent keeper of confidences. You know I must be if
I’m an NA counselor.”

She has a puzzled look on her face.
Translation: her mouth is all screwed up. That’s another habit of
hers that I’ve identified. She’s not that difficult to read.

“Remember? NA stands for Narcotics
Anonymous. Most people tell me tons of things they don’t tell
anyone else. I don’t share those things with anyone.”

“Right. You’re kind of like Father Anthony
in the confessional.”

“In a matter of speaking. But I’m not
qualified to give absolution. I guess that’s what he does,
right?”

“Yes, he does. He acts as God’s
representative in the confessional and forgives sinners for their
transgressions.”

“Yeah, I don’t do that. But what I am
qualified to do is to make the drug addict understand the path to
recovery. We don’t look at addiction as a sin, though Father
Anthony and Sister Helena probably do. We look at it as a weakness,
as a means to cope. Not the proper means, mind you. But most people
are ill equipped to understand how to handle their problems, and
some get caught up in drugs without understanding the consequences.
Like teens for instance. Most of them haven’t a clue how addicting
heroin is. They think that, oh, they’ll smoke it up a time or two
and that’ll be it. It just isn’t that simple or easy to walk away
from.”

What she does next is completely unexpected.
She comes up to me and wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me
tightly. This rarely happens, so it takes me by surprise.

“You’re a special man, Kade. The world needs
more people like you.” She takes a step back and offers me the
biggest smile I’ve ever seen. It brightens up her usually sad
face.

“You should smile more often, Emmalia.” I
grin back at her.

“If Sister Helena will allow it, do you
think I could volunteer at your place? I’d love to be able to pay
you back somehow for the music lessons. This could be my way of
doing that. I could help you with computer stuff, if you need
it.”

“We have an IT person, but let me check with
him. If I take you up on that, I’d be willing to pay you.”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t take your money. It
would be in payment for the lessons. Not to mention what you’ve
done for Ethel.”

“Then, in exchange, would you at least let
me get you a cell phone? I worry about you.”

She instantly has that fearful look in her
eyes again. What could she possibly be afraid of? And what does it
have to do with a cell phone? I make a decision that I’m going to
make a phone call the next day to my brother about her.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Come on then. Let’s check out that
movie.”

“You don’t happen to have Alien do you? I’d
love to watch that instead.”

“You’re an Alien fan?”

“Oh yeah! I love those movies.”

“I would never have taken you for a
fan.”

“Yeah. Ever since college.”

“I have it. Come on.”

An hour later, we both scream as the baby
alien busts out of the guy’s stomach and skitters away. Then we
look at each other and laugh our asses off.

“Like we didn’t know that was coming,” she
says.

“Yeah, but it gets me every time.”

“I know. It’s just so gross how he starts to
spaz out and then, wham. Baby alien. Ew!” She shudders and we laugh
again.

“This was such an ingenious creature. What
an imagination.”

“I know, right?”

“My brothers and I would pause the movie …
oh, wait, I’ll do it when we get to the scene.”

So we continue to watch and then at the end
when Ripley is on the shuttle, making her escape, and she slips
into the space suit because she realizes the alien is on the
shuttle too, I start to slow-mo the movie. “Right here. When the
alien starts to move. This is where we would do it.” We watch in
silence. “We could never figure out exactly what the damn thing
looked like until we did this. The movie was so dark and obscure
and then when it opened its mouth and that second set of mandibles
came out and started snapping, we would scream our bloody heads
off.” We watch it unfold slowly and I turn to Emmalia and see how
captivated she is by the film. Her mouth and eyes mimic each other,
forming large circles.

“Holy double decker crap! I never realized
this before because it all happened so quickly.”

“Holy double decker crap? What kind of nun
language is that?” I tease.

“Bad nun language?” She asks sheepishly.

“Look at Ethel over there, watching you.
You’ve tainted her innocent puppy ears.”

Emmalia giggles. “I suppose I have.”

The movie ends, Ripley escapes with the cat
intact in the shuttle, sans alien, and we both decide Ethel needs
one more turn outside. When I come back in, I remark about the
snow.

“It’s as bad as I can recall in my two years
here. I’m wondering if you’ll get home tomorrow.”

“If I can’t, Sister Helena will be one bad
mess to deal with.”

“Let’s not worry about it now. We’ll see how
things are in the morning.”

“Would you mind very much if Ethel slept
with me? I know you don’t like that idea, but I’ll probably never
get this opportunity again, and I would really love it.”

“Sure. It’s your bed for the night.”

She picks the fur ball up and looks at
me.

“Do you have a blanket?”

“A blanket?”

“Um, so I don’t get cold.”

“There are blankets on the bed.”

“Oh, I can sleep on the couch. I don’t want
to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother. Upstairs. Now. I have
four bedrooms in this house and if you think I’ll let you sleep on
the couch, you’re nuts.”

I usher her up the staircase and direct her
to her suite. There’s a gas fireplace in here, along with an en
suite bathroom with everything she should need. The only people
that have ever come here are my brothers and their wives. I have
bathrobes and toiletries in case anyone forgets things when they
visit.

“The bathroom is in here,” I say as I walk
through, indicating she should follow me, but she doesn’t. “There
should be everything you need in the cabinets, such as extra
toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo, and so on. Feel free to make
yourself at home. There are bathrobes, and there should even be
pajamas and things in the drawers that my sister-in-law keeps in
here. It’s fine if you borrow them. Or I can lend you a T-shirt.
Flick the switch on the wall to turn on the gas logs, if you wish.
If you need anything, just call out. I’m in the room at the end of
the hall.”

“Thank you. This room is lovely, Kade.” Her
voice is soft as she speaks.

“It’s Carter’s favorite.”

“Carter?”

“My sister-in-law.”

“Oh. Well, good-night then.”

I leave her standing in the middle of the
room with a look of awe on her face. I suppose it’s because she’s
not used to such fine things, living in that stark convent. I hope
she sleeps well in there.

When I get to my room, I can’t seem to get
her out of my mind. Things just don’t add up. There’s such gaping
mystery about her. And I still can’t stop thinking that she doesn’t
fit the nun profile. Maybe I’m being too judgmental, like she’s
accused me of. I know nothing about nuns. Perhaps she simply wants
to dedicate her life to the church. I should just drop it. But
there is a deep-seated fear of something and her reluctance toward
getting a cell phone triggers even greater fears. I’m going to call
my brother, Kolson, in the morning. His company, Hart
Transportation Services, has a huge security division and I’m going
to see if he can run a background check on her. Maybe I can find
something out about her that can help me help her. I hate to see
someone in so much pain. And pain radiates from her most of the
time. If there’s something I can do to wipe it away, I’ll do my
best to make that happen. That’s a vow I made to myself in
recovery. Never will I pass someone by without doing everything in
my power to help them.

Emmalia

This room saddens me. As I take in my
surroundings, the familiar sense of “home” seeps into my pores. I
can almost hear my little sister in her room next to mine,
snickering over some inane thing. I know if I walk into her room
right now, she’ll be curled up on her pink and white duvet, brown
curls tangled across her pillow, her earbuds in, as she listens to
her favorite pop music reading the latest romance novel. My feet
are frozen on the plush cream carpet as I hug Ethel tightly to my
chest, wanting the vision to dissipate. The memory is so potent, I
can even smell the strawberry shampoo she used to love so much, as
it would linger in her thick tresses.

I’m finally pulled out of my awful trance
when Ethel starts to lick my face and whine. I must’ve been holding
her too tightly. Numbly, I wander to the bed and trail my fingers
over the rich fabric of the bed covering. It’s expensive, I’m sure.
Deep golden brown with a mixture of various shades of oranges and
red, it’s quite beautiful. Nothing like the stark white scratchy
cotton that I’ve gotten used to sleeping on at the convent. Out of
curiosity, I lift the duvet to see what kind of sheets are on the
bed. As I suspected, they are soft and expensive. Again, not
abrasive and cheap like mine. They feel like silk on my hand. The
window is covered in wide-planked shutters, but it also has
expensive looking window treatments over them. They are made of
heavy fabric that complements the duvet. My mother would be oohing
and ahhing over this room. I peek out the shutters and see them, as
I always do, fading in and out of the landscape. I slam the slats
shut and as I close the curtains in front of them, I notice how
heavy they are. They are the black out kind that you find in
hotels. Pushing the thoughts of the shadows away, I focus on my
surroundings. Kade has every comfort in here. I’ve never had this
type of pampering, even at home growing up. And my parents were
quite comfortable financially.

As I turn back to the bed, my gaze lands on
the fireplace. The switch is right next to it on the wall, so I
flip it on and instantly, a blaze begins to burn, casting the room
in a golden glow. How convenient and lovely. There’s also a large
flat screen above it so I can watch TV if I want. It’s been so long
since I’ve had a TV, I wouldn’t know what was on. Sister Helena
frowns on television so we don’t watch it much at the convent. She
thinks it’s the devil’s work.

The bathroom is on the other side of the
room, so I head over there and catch my breath when I walk in. It’s
huge. The shower alone could fit a dozen people. Then there’s a
jetted tub, double sinks, and a separate room with a toilet. Gah,
this is a room fit for a queen.

Kade said there were toothbrushes, so I hunt
one and find it. He has a whole stockpile of stuff in here. It’s
like an entire store. Toothpaste, mouthwash, face wash, lotion,
body wash, there’s even make up—not that I wear it anymore, but
still.

I finish getting ready for bed and when it’s
time, I get a little freaked. This room is so big, I glance around
and know I’ll never be able to fall asleep here. Maybe there’s an
extra blanket in the closet. I look on the shelves of the enormous
nearly empty space and spy a few extra blankets and pillows. I grab
them and along with Ethel, make a place for us to sleep
under
the bed. This is nothing unusual for me. I spend most
nights under the bed, even at the convent. It’s the safest place in
this room—in any room. If someone comes in here, they won’t find
me. Of course it’s idiotic, but for whatever reason, it eases me
somewhat. In minutes, sleep takes me into dreamland.

~~~~~

Red. It’s everywhere. The walls, the floors,
my hands, jeans, and even my shoes. When I wipe my hands on my
jeans, it doesn’t go away, it only gets worse. More red, until it
gushes off of me, runs down my arms and pours off my fingers like
rain during a summer thunderstorm. Soon it floods the room I’m in,
filling it up like a swimming pool, getting deeper and deeper, and
I’m afraid I’ll drown in it if it doesn’t stop. But there’s nowhere
to go. I can’t run; I can’t even move. The white walls mock me as I
try to escape but I’m stuck, mired down in the swirling madness of
red. And it’s then I hear a deep voice. It fills me with terror
because I know it’s the end. I’m going to die. Just like my family
did. My throat will be torn out, just like theirs were, left open
for my blood to fill the pool of red that jeopardizes my life. My
arms or legs won’t respond to the signal my brain sends to them.
MOVE
! They’re useless appendages, lifeless, like I will soon
be. The only thing left for me to do is to scream. But try as I
might, only a hoarse whimper scrapes out of my throat. I fill my
burning lungs with as much air as they’ll hold and keep trying, but
the same gruff, grating noise emerges from my now raw trachea.