The Girl With Aquamarine Eyes (20 page)

He stared at the picture, feeling a vein of dribble erupt
from the corner of his parched mouth. As if waiting for him to come, the photo
laid silently, the last stray trace of sunlight hitting it oh-so perfectly. His
sister in all her childhood glory, right down to the rosy tint on her angelic
cheeks. Back as new, as if it’d never become permanently embedded deep within
the mahogany wood where it had earlier drowned. Where he too had drowned.

He’d dropped his coffee. The hot liquid bounced from his knee,
sprayed his trousers and flipped onto his shoes. He never felt it. He never
even glanced down at it.

He didn’t care. His hand shook as he held the photo up until
it became one with the glint of sunlight pestering him. It was perfect. Too
perfect. Last time he’d seen it, it was plastered in ruins to his desk.

Something forced him to tear his gaze from the photo.
Something in the room demanding to be noticed. Something calling out to him,
waiting for him to notice. He was almost afraid to look. His gaze fell to the
lamp.

The lamp which had been shattered to pieces when he’d thrown
the phone in a fit of anger. It was whole again.

He wasn’t even surprised. Red and blue and gold and green
spheres glistened in perfect harmony within the dim study, glittering across
the walls. A spectrum of color danced in the ambient sun.

This time he had no reaction. Because, he simply no longer
cared. The wild horses did not thunder through his head. The shrill pitch that
always followed the hoof beats of the red-eyed monster beasts did not drop him
to his knees. He didn’t know why. Maybe, he was dead already.

He staggered to the phone to call the orphanage, still
clutching the picture. Even more spittle foamed from his mouth as he stared at
the mended lamp, waiting for the children’s home to answer the ring.

He contemplated bashing the tiffany against the wall again
and again, as he listened to the never-ending elevator music. He’d wait in the
closet for Heaven to come. This way the truth would be known. He would watch
her fix it, and all her mysteries would be solved.

If not, he’d slam it against the wall again, and wait for
her to return to fix it once more. If he broke the lamp enough times, the truth
would be known. She would never have to know he was hidden in the closet.
Bonita hopefully wouldn’t mind serving his meals in his new hideaway.

But he knew it wouldn’t work. He needed Dreams. She would
know. She’d have the answers. After all, she spent the last five years hidden
from the world on a god-forsaken and forgotten archipelago somewhere in the
south Pacific with the strange girl.

The pinball machine gnashed and banged in the dark corridors
of his mind. He sniffed the air around him. The smell of burning wires and
molten steel surrounded him. The machine was on fire. A grey fog rose slowly
from beneath it, overpowering him and threatening to inhale him. He too would
fall into the bottomless pit along with the million other lost silver balls.

Maybe, it’d be quiet down there. Staring at the reflection
of a lunatic in the timeless orbs throughtout eternity sounded quite peaceful.
That would be a good way to go.

A coyote howled in the distance, interrupting his thoughts.
But there weren’t any coyotes in downtown Los Angeles. He gazed through his
haggard reflection, out the tinted window. It was a young girl, laughing and
giggling with her friend. He drew a sigh of relief.

He gazed at Hawk’s dark eyes embedded in the mirror. “Lets
go.”

* * *

Tommy sat on the landing on the staircase, gazing at Heaven
sleeping on the couch.

Try as he might, he hadn’t slept a wink all night. He
finally gave it up, grabbed his pillow and laid on the landing watching her
sleep. Luckily, it was Saturday morning. He didn’t have to worry about school,
and tonight was his night off. He’d figure out what to do as soon as the girl
woke.

He’d carried her in the night before, and examined her
ankle. It was indeed swollen, and in the light, the pair noticed a deep gash
across her knee. He begged her to let him take her to the hospital, or to call
her family.

She’d refused. She politely asked to lie down, insisting she’d
be fine by morning.

Now it was morning, and he was once again in a fix. He
reached for his cell phone in his back pocket. He’d call Ben. His friend would
know what to do.

His father was due home from the convention in only a few
hours. He pondered once more hunting down the camping supplies. Maybe, if luck
was on his side Ben would let Heaven stay at his place for a short while, until
they figured out what to do.

He sat up straight, suddenly startled. His back pocket was
empty. He leapt to his feet and shoved his hands down his front pockets. They
were also empty.

His heart sank as he realized the phone might have fallen
from his pocket in the woods. Nonetheless he raced downstairs, and rushed to
his ragged car. There was a chance it could be in the car.

Thirty minutes later, he leaned against the oily machine in
exhasperation. He would wake Heaven, and together they’d have to search the
woods. He couldn’t leave her on the couch alone. After all, she was the victim
of a frightening night and a serious injury. Plus, his dad would be beside
himself if he walked in and found a girl asleep in the living room.

“Tommy?”

He whirled around. Heaven stood smiling at him in the
morning sunlight. She still looked like an angel, despite her mossy green
rumpled gown. His heart once again skipped a beat as he stared at the lovely
girl. His gaze fell from her moonstone eyes, to her ankle.

“Good morning. Your ankle looks much better.” He slammed the
car door shut, and met her on the porch. He gazed around, hoping a nosey
neighbor wasn’t watching. The last thing he needed was neighborhood gossip
getting back to his father.

“It feels much better, but I’m still quite sore.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. To make matters worse, I’ve lost my
cell phone. Would you mind helping me search the woods? That is, if you’re up
to it.”

Heaven thought a moment. She knew Bice and Harmon would be
looking for her by now. She was honestly a bit frightened being so close to the
mansion. At this hour, she should have been sailing the great seas. At this
point, any island would do.

Though the hour was early, Bonita would have been up to her
room by now with her breakfast. The thought of food caused her belly to growl.
She hadn’t eaten the night before, having been too angered at being stood up by
Bice. The one thing she knew for sure, the last place she wanted to be was back
in the woods so close to the giant fortress she had snuck away from.

“I will be on my way, Tommy. Thank you for helping me last
night.”

He studied her leg once more. “You’re ankle must still be
sore.” A sickening feeling of dread filled his belly as his gaze rose to her
knee. The bloodied wound across it was gone. Her knee looked perfect. Perfect
and beautiful, as would be expected of a goddess.

It was impossible. He clearly remembered carrying her into
the house, and fetching ice. Of course by now the swelling would be minimal,
but surely the wound on her knee would not have melted away as he slept on the
landing nearby.

He studied the faint dots of crimson stains on her gown.
Proof he hadn’t imagined the wound. He’d seen it with his own eyes. He was the
son of a physician, who often was called into the trauma center for serious
wounds.

There were still traces of blood in the back seat from the
gash. If the police were to search his car, they’d interrogate him and demand
he tell them where the body was. He’d miss his Senior year, and maybe even
college. His dad would be beside himself.

His eyes gaped in horror as he staggered backward, fighting
the urge to turn and run for the distant hills. He thought of his mother. He
wished to the heavens above she were here at this very moment. She’d take him
to her bosom and reassure him, and protect him like she was supposed to do. She’d
demand answers from the strange girl with even stranger eyes.

The sound of the hallway phone ringing caused him to jump.
He lurched against the doorway, trying in vain to calm his uncontrollable
shaking. If he didn’t hold on to something, he knew he’d collapse. He walked
backward into the hall, unable to take his frozen eyes from her leg.

He was a monster. He was a freak. Take your turn, get your
number and fall in line to bully Tommy Killmore the geek. The only kid in
school who’d bought a car with his own money.

It was the football players, they were behind this. They’d
set him up. It was another one of their relentless tricks. The assholes had set
the bait, laid the trap and waited for him to take it. And he had, while they
hid in the woods stifling their laughter and swigging their beers.

The phone continued ringing. Of course, the timing was
perfect. It was probably the team captain, ready to tell him the joke was on
him. They’d finally gotten smart, having grown weary of stacking his locker
with unmentionable items. This was their grand finale,

their coup de grace.

The rest of the players probably dotted the lawn, hidden
carefully behind his father’s shrubs. He wouldn’t be surprised if one had a
video camera. The clip would surely be plastered across the internet for all to
see come Monday morning. It might even make the evening news.

He finally tore his eyes from Heaven, and raced to answer
the phone.

* * *

Harmon stood at the study window, watching the waves as they
crashed against the jagged cliff.

He and Bice had searched hours for Heaven. They’d found
nothing, other than blood and a dead cell phone partially buried in a pile of
crushed leaves.

Dreams was happy to come visit Heaven for a week. The nuns
didn’t mind, after all the girl would be eighteen in only a few weeks. She’d be
free to do what she wanted and live where she wanted soon.

She too was an exceptionally beautiful girl. Dreams and
Heaven might have even been cast from the same mold, except Dreams had long,
wavy jet black hair and glittering dark eyes to match.

She was the most polite teenager Harmon had ever met. She
took an immediate liking to Bice. If her friend were not missing, she would
probably be following his manager from room to room at this very moment, as he
showed her around the house.

The moment he and Hawk had stepped from the car with Dreams,
Bice burst from the house looking dazed. The man wasn’t even dressed. He
explained to the trio after brief introductions Heaven was missing. Harmon was
absolutely sickened, requiring Bice’s and Hawk’s assistance to make it up the
front steps. Dreams burst into a round of shoulder-shaking sobs.

They searched Heaven’s room, the entire house and finally
the grounds. Hawk eventually spotted a broken tree limb overhanging the wall
which surrounded the estate. On the outside of the wall, they found broken
branches covered in blood.

She was injured. He doubted she could’ve waved a car down.
Drag marks through the fallen leaves indicated she might be pulling her legs
behind her. He refused to call the police, even at Bice’s insistence, for fear
it would cause the media to swarm upon his house like bees swarming to a hive.

He had connections. He’d find her one way or another. If
not, he’d call the police, but not a moment sooner.

Bice and Hawk had been gone for hours scouring the streets,
relentless in their quest to find Heaven, while he and Dreams waited behind. He
refused to go with them, having preferred to stay behind in case she managed to
find her way back home or had a change of heart and called.

It was nearing lunch hour. Bonita brought Dreams sandwiches
in Heaven’s room, where she held vigil waiting for her best friend to return.

Harmon lifted the phone they’d found in the woods from the
dresser. He flipped it open, and stared numbly at the neon screen. The battery
level had finally risen somewhat, after he’d found a charger to fit it. He
pushed the various keys. For what he was searching, he didn’t know.

‘DAD-HOME’ suddenly lit up the screen. He rapidly pushed
more buttons. His hands shook uncontrollably as he searched the menu. The phone
beeped and vibrated and finally displayed the owners name. It belonged to
someone named Tommy.

He pressed the corresponding button by ‘DAD-HOME’, and
waited.

* * *

Tommy stared at the ringing phone, fighting the sudden urge to
fling it out the window. He knew he must answer it. Maybe it wasn’t the
football jocks ready to poke fun at him. It could be his dad, he was due home
anytime.

He gazed at Heaven. God she was beautiful. He wished she and
him were a thousand miles away, free of worries and problems. Just the two of
them, together forever. That is, if the football jocks hadn’t sent her to trick
him.

He would take her to the ocean. They’d watch the dolphins
rise and fall in the foamy sea. She was an angel from heaven.

He gazed once more at the phone. If it was his dad, all hell
would break loose if he hadn’t figured out how to get the girl back home, or
somewhere, quickly. His father would know in his voice something was terribly
wrong.

He finally lifted the receiver. Maybe it was Ben calling to
say he was on his way over. Or maybe, it was a magazine salesman calling to
tell him he’d won the grand prize of a billion dollars and a trip for two to
Zimbabwe. He shuddered as he finally quieted the annoying ringing.

“Hello?” He wheezed.

“Hello, this is Harmon Steel. I found your phone in my woods
last night.”

Tommy’s hand began to shake as a sticky sweat beaded across
his brow. A sudden vision played in his mind. He was sitting in jail. His dad
was outside the bars, yelling at him.