The Girl With Aquamarine Eyes (24 page)

She gazed at him curiously. “What odd things?”

Harmon strummed his pen on the desk. He gazed beyond Dreams
at the tiffany lamp perched on its throne near the window. There was no way
around it. He’d have to be direct with the girl. He was left with no choice,
but to find out anything he could to solve the strange occurrences. Too much
had happened in too short of a time to write off as a coincidence. The girl
upstairs should not even be walking. He rubbed his temple, and studied Dreams
once again.

“Dreams, I really don’t know where to start. Take a look at
this.” He pulled a golden coin from the drawer and slid it in her direction.

He watched her pick the token up and turn it over carefully
in her hands. Her face suddenly went pale as recognition swept across her dark
eyes. As pale as the freshly laundered sheets he and his sister Rose hung to
dry in the summer winds.

“It’s her.” Dreams moaned. “My God, it’s Heaven.” Her arm
suddenly snapped away from the coin, as if it had been molded from the venom of
stinging insects. It flipped into the air, and spun in dizzying circles across
the desk.

Harmon slapped the coin, and slid it into the drawer in one
swift movement. If Dreams grew any paler, he feared a call to the morgue would
be the next item on his agenda.

“I have no answers for you.” She mumbled. “You might be
better off finding her an island to leave on in peace, is my only suggestion.”

He leaned forward. “What do you mean? Heaven might be in
great danger after a certain episode at the hospital yesterday. Please, tell me
what you know about her.”

“What happened at the hospital?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Tell me!”

“Look, Dreams. She’s your friend, isn’t she? Now, tell me
why you want me to take her back to an island. Last time I went to sea, I
damned near wound up dead.”

Dreams sighed in resignation and twisted a stray lock of
hair around her finger. “Don’t forget, you’ re the one who insisted we come
back to the states. It would’ve been your own fault if that hurricane had taken
your ship and crew. We were fine where we were. Especially, Heaven.”

“The island is gone Dreams. Long gone. It’s been underwater
since we pulled you and Heaven from that death trap. Please, tell what you know
about her.”

Dreams rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and sighed. “She
would have been better off left for dead, rather than bringing her back to the
states. Regardless of the hurricane, she was safe on that island.”

“I don’t understand.” Harmon admitted. “How could she have
been safe there when a damned hurricane wiped it out?”

Dreams leaned forward and met his gaze. “That island was her
only protection from whom she is. I can’t explain why she is the way she is,
but there was a reason she chose to leave the orphanage and live where few
others would live. She was only trying to protect herself, and you came along
and blew it. You’re the reason she’s in grave danger.”

“Dreams, you must believe me. I had no idea Heaven was like
she is until I brought her here. Now, tell me what you’ve seen.” He slammed his
hand on the desk and watched the girl jump at the sound.

She gazed at him intensely, but hesitated. Finally she
spoke, clinging to each word for fear once it slipped from her mouth, the skies
would open up and swallow her whole. “There was a boy at the orphanage…”

Harmon fought the sudden urge to vomit as she spoke. The
feeling was so strong, he pushed his chair from the desk and bent over the
garbage can. He hung in suspended animation for what seemed like days. He was
finally going to get some answers about Heaven.

The problem was, he wasn’t sure if he still wanted to hear
what she had to say. He studied the contents of the waste container. Wadded up
lyrics and a broken ball point pen gazed back at him. It would be much easier
to leap into the steel canister and bury himself beneath the forgotten debris,
rather than face the facts about Heaven.

She’d come from an island to begin with. It was no wonder
the authorities were unable to locate any family stateside. She’d escaped from
the orphanage in an attempt to protect herself from the scorn of her peers. Not
to mention the ridicule she must have endured from the other children.

Dreams confirmed his worst fear. She too, had seen strange
things unfold in Heaven’s presence. And, he’d determinedly hunted Heaven down
and brought her right back to the States against her will.

He’d unknowing taken her from the only possible safety she
knew. And, he’d placed her in grave danger. Because now, her secret was out.

Dreams studied the unusual man. “Mr. Steele, are you all
right?”

He gazed at her. “The hurricane destroyed the entire
archipelago. Do you understand? It’s impossible to take her back there. Now,
tell me what happened at the orphanage.”

Minutes passed. She hesitated, and bit her lip. “The boy
fell from the slide one day...”

Harmon leaned forward. “Go on.”

“When he fell, he cut his head wide open. Blood was
everywhere.” She glanced out the window, studying the sea in the distance.

“Tell me. Tell me everything, Dreams.”

“Heaven was close by when he fell. She…” Dreams could not
continue. She couldn’t believe it herself. But, to have to tell someone was
against the very fiber she stood for. She knew she had no choice though. If
Heaven were in danger, she’d do what she could to help.

“Tell me Dreams, I beg of you. I must know.”

“She ran to the boy, who was screaming in hysterics and
covered his head with her hand. She was only applying direct pressure to stop
the bleeding, like we were taught in first-aid class. She cried out for the
nuns to come quickly. But by the time they arrived…” She choked back a sob.

Harmon gazed at her. He could say nothing. He already knew
what Dreams would say. The gig was up. Curtain call. The show, at last was
over. Time for the swan song. Word for word, he already knew. It was pointless
conversing any further. But he forced himself to listen.

“By the time the sisters arrived, she lifted her hand from
the wound to show them the injury, but it was gone. I saw it myself, God
Almighty, I saw it myself. The wound disappeared.” Dreams was beyond her
breaking point. Recalling the event was simply too much to ask. The last of the
color drained from her face. She doubled over, and slid from the chair.

Bice walked in the door at the same moment. He’d heard
everything. He lifted Dreams from the floor and gazed at the ashen musician. “I’ll
get her to her room. Will you be all right?”

Harmon gazed at his friend, doubled over and vomited on the
dead ball point pen and useless lyrics.

* * *

“Tommy?” Dr. Killmore called from the doorway. “I’m home!”

He threw his luggage from the medical convention aside,
flipped through the mail and made his way to the living room. He was
frustrated. He was half a day late getting home. The sun had long ago set,
taking with it another day in his life.

He turned the TV on, drew the shades and sat down to relax.
He groped for the TV guide, finally finding it between the sofa cushions. As he
flipped through the pages, he quickly noticing something felt odd. The pages
stuck to his fingers, as he struggled to turn them. He flipped on the nearby
lamp.

He stared at his fingers in the amber glow, already knowing
what the sticky stain was. The small magazine was covered in blood. He leapt
from the sofa as if it had shocked him. Horrified, he gazed at his white
leather couch and reeled in sickness. Dried blood covered nearly one side of
it, and he had sat in it. He groaned.

“Tommy!”

He watched his son raced downstairs, and slide to a
screeching halt in the doorway.

The boy was the color of death itself.

He glared at the boy. “What happened to my new couch, Tommy?
It looks like you skinned a cat on it!”

“Dad, I can explain.”

They were interrupted by the jangle of the doorbell. Dr.
Killmore glared at Tommy, turned on his heel and stomped to the door. At this
rate, he’d never get any rest.

Tommy watched his dad answer the door, and signed with
relief. Hopefully, it was an entire troop of girl scouts with hundreds of
brochures to pick thousands of cookies from. Better yet, maybe it was a
salesman with zillions of handy-dandy kitchen items to demonstrate.

“Stay right there young man, you have some explaining to do.”
His father called from the doorway.

The physician opened the door. Standing in the doorway was
the most impeccably dressed chauffer he’d ever set eyes on. His dark uniform
was neatly pressed, its long sleeves capped with white cuffs and followed by
white satin gloves. His ensemble was finished off with a matching hat, trimmed
in gold braid.

“For Monsieur Tommy.” The chauffer swept into a low bow, and
dropped a set of keys into the physician’s hand. He touched his hat, and
marched back to the waiting Limo parked at the curb.

The doctor stepped onto the porch, and watched the long car
slowly roll away. He gazed at the keys in his hands, complete with a leather
keychain emblazoned with the letter ‘L’.

Something glinted under the streetlights in the driveway. He
turned slowly to look, almost afraid of what he might see.

He gasped in astonishment. A pristine candy-apple red
Lamborghini Murcie’lago sat in his driveway. He was already very familiar with
the model of the car. Several physicians at the hospital owned one. It was a
popular car for the ultra-wealthy.

“Tommy!”

The keys fell from his hand and dropped to the cold stone.
He’d had more than enough for one day. He’d been choked, his new couch was
covered in blood, a dead child had been risen, Ben’s face was shattered beyond
recognition and now this. Perhaps he should’ve flown up to Saratoga and played
the ponies, postponing coming home for a day. His luck might have been better
if he’d stayed in New York.

He could only stare numbly at the gleaming red car, as Tommy
ran up behind him. He could hear the boy panting over his shoulder.

“Gee dad, did you buy a new car?” Tommy wheezed.

Ignoring him, the physician stomped to the drivers side and
peered in. An envelope was neatly placed on the seat. He pulled it out, and
quickly scanned the card inside. He could feel Tommy’s hot breath on his
shoulder.

He read it out loud, “
Tommy, my sincere thanks to you for
helping Heaven last light. Sincerely, H. Steele.”

Dr. Killmore took his son by the arm and led him back into
the house. “Tommy, would you care to explain to me what happened last night?”

Tommy craned his neck behind him, stealing one more glimpse
of the dream car in the driveway. The chicks he could get with that car would
be non-stop, like a broken gumball machine, scattering at his feet when he
turned the key.

“Tommy!”

The boy quickly snapped back to reality, realizing he had
quite a story to tell.

* * *

Dr. Killmore sat at the kitchen table, trying to absorb the story
his son told him.

He was proud, despite the boy’s poor judgment of leaving his
vehicle to plunge into the woods. Yet, he’d done the right thing advising the
musician where Heaven was. He swelled with pride, knowing the boy was also
thinking of his own future.

His wife, the boy’s mother, had died tragically only three
years before. Since then, it was only the two of them, when he wasn’t out of
town at medical conventions. Tommy would make his mother proud. She’d instilled
in him family values, as well as high standards for honesty. He gazed at his
son, seeing his greatly missed wife in the boy’s eyes.

“What about the car? Can I keep it Dad? Can I? Can I?”

“Son, that is a three-hundred thousand dollar racecar. Mr.
Steele has no business sending that expensive toy over for helping Heaven.”

“But Dad…”

“I had the bad luck to meet her this morning.” He
inadvertently rubbed his throat, recalling how close to death he might have
actually come.

“Bad luck, Dad?”

“She tried to strangle me at the hospital with my own tie,
while I examined her.”

“Aw, Dad. She was only upset over what happened last night.
Plus, she was hurt.”

Dr. Killmore gazed at his son, and sighed. “Tommy, there was
an accident last night and Ben is in the hospital.”

Tommy leapt from the table and rushed to his father’s side. “Ben?
Take me there, please!”

“You won’t be able to see him for awhile, son. I will take
you as soon as he’s out of intensive care. Meanwhile, you and I are going to
pay Mr. Steele a visit.”

* * *

Heaven sat on her bed, gazing about her newly cleaned room.

She wanted to make things right between Harmon and herself.
He’d given her chance after chance since she’d come here to live. He’d shown
incredible patience toward her, and he’d even brought her friend to visit. She
was determined not to let him down again.

She was proud, and best of all, she felt good for the first
time in very long time. Her suite looked wonderful, which made her feel even
better. She’d neatly stacked her fashion magazine at her bedside, and had even
made her bed.

She’d helped Bonita in the kitchen earlier. Afterward, she
and Dreams had enjoyed a wonderful lunch, and caught up on everything. Later,
they swam in Harmon’s seaside pool which overlooked, as Harmon called it, the
City of Angels. She was absolutely thrilled her friend had come for a visit.
But the shadows had grown long much too soon, and she’d become weary.

She smiled at the thought of a warm bath. Dreams was
probably in her suite across from hers, enjoying one herself by now.

She sat down on the edge of the tub, and stared at the
faucets. She turned them on one at a time, carefully testing the water with her
finger. She whirled the cap off a lovely smelling concoction of fragrant liquid
which sat nearby.