The Vengeance (4 page)

“Don’t worry,” he laughed. “We’re in the business of bettering lives, not taking them away.”

The words didn’t ease her much.

“What do you plan to do to make mine better?” she said with an air of challenge.

She
dared him to do something right, at least in her eyes.

“This burden isn’t fair to you, even if you feel you can live with it. To know these histories is a great responsibility that even some of our own can’t handle. To expect a purely human life to know and keep it secret is beyond cruel; it puts you, your loved ones, and AJ in danger.”

“What are you planning to do?” she stammered, pushing herself further into the couch.

She wanted to run but felt bound to the couch. Her feet
sat futile in pushing her away, trapped by invisible bonds.

“I’m going to make you forget,” Benjamin replied, his smile turning less happy now.

He almost seemed truly sorry. The look resembled one Gram gave when trying to apologize for this or that. A strange mix of love and admiration with shame and sadness decorated his creased face. She wondered if he could read her mind as the words continued flowing through his pink lips.

“There is nothing you can say to change this
. This is what needs to be done, my dear. It is, unfortunately, the way things will be.”

“What about AJ?” she asked, her eyes shooting up at him.

He returned her stare for only a moment, as fear clouded the clear beauty that she had always possessed and he wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, but knew it would give them away. He could not let Max’s loss today be in vain.

“Will he remember me?”

“Yes,” Benjamin said. “That will be his penance for being part of this scheme, where a human knew he existed.”

He glanced up at AJ, who nodded in approval. He didn’t want to forget Addie, no matter how painful.

“I’ll give you a moment to say anything you need to say.”

He rose from his crouch near Addie
and walked over to the window with the others. They stared outside and granted minor privacy for what AJ expected would only be moments.

AJ swiftly moved to her, kneeling down in front of the woman he loved with his whole heart. He rested his hands next to her thighs on the couch. He hadn’t been able to look in her eyes, to see the pain that had all been caused by a simple car ride down a road into this town just months before. If he had known that he’d be putting her through this after all she’d been through when he first laid eyes on her that sunny day, he might have chosen to high-tail it out of town before he even arrived.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Tears choked his voice as he ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her head closer to his with trembling hands. Encompassing her face with his strong fingers, forehead to forehead, Max could make out the tears both of them were shedding.

“I’m so sorry to put you through this.”

“Shhhh
,” she whispered back.  “I’ll remember you somehow. There’s no way I couldn’t. No way I couldn’t remember this.”

AJ knew it wasn’t true, but wanted to believe it as well. He kissed her forehead and pulled her into an embrace. Kissing her wasn’t an option – not with the elders there. They squeezed each other tightly as if letting go meant the end of life for both of them. In a way it did.

AJ heard Benjamin turn and knew he had to let go. He stood up, holding Addie’s hand as he towered over her seat on the couch. She was shaking the way one does when fear and anger overtakes the body. Benjamin took her other hand in his. AJ felt Max’s hand on his shoulder and part of him wanted to shake it off.

“What’s going to happen?” Addie whispered, scared of her pending loss. “Will it hurt?”

“No dear,” Benjamin replied with a soothing smile. “You’ll simply get tired and go to sleep. When you wake up, it will be foggy. You will be a little lost until you figure out where you’re at in time, as the last thing you will remember will be before AJ came to town a few months ago. You’ll probably be scared or worried for a bit until a doctor visit assures you you’re fine and not crazy.”

AJ cringed – crazy. Of course she’d think she was crazy. Crazy like she would go back to remembering her mom as. She’d forget what she had learned about her mom and go back to hating her. All of the good that had happened recently would be gone.

“And then?”

“And then life will go on as you know it.”

She looked over at AJ, goodbye written all over her face. If Robert leaving had been hard, this moment was merely impossible. She almost couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, even if in moments she wouldn’t remember him. Almost.

AJ watched as her eyes began to drift, as she fought the urge to sleep, only wanting to look at him as long as she could. AJ’s body tensed as every emotion she felt was pushed into him and he hated Benjamin for it. He felt every moment of love and joy combined with every moment of hatred and anger over everything that had happened to her because of his arrival in town. AJ observed it all, locking it within himself as punishment for stepping into her life and creating this mess.

And then her eyes were closed, her body slumping into the couch. Benjamin carefully laid her down, stroking her cheek with his hand. He wasn’t cruel or sent here to penalize; he was a rule-keeper and while portions of his work were difficult, AJ knew how tremendous of a task it must have been to be responsible for such things. He admired Benjamin almost as much as he hated him for this.

Benjamin covered her up with a blanket and turned to the group.

“It’s best we go. When she wakes up, she’ll be frightened enough. No need for her to wake to a house full of strangers she can’t remember.”

Max held onto AJ, worried that the powerfully built man would crumble at a moment’s notice. AJ walked in reverse, unable to take his eyes off of her. They were out the door, Max’s hand pulling lightly on the knob to close it.

“I’m sure we’ll be hearing more from you, AJ,” Benjamin said, his hand extended towards a man he knew only wanted to use a free hand to punch him. “I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”

AJ nodded. He didn’t like it, but he understood.

Gram pulled up as Benjamin neared his car. Without words, Gram knew as she stepped out of the vehicle who these people were. Her face dawned with recognition, a hint that perhaps she’d seen them before. Benjamin nodded at her. AJ wondered if he’d been right. Rose popped out of the passenger side, fear painted across her face as she glanced over the strangers in front of her. Any other day, she would have welcomed them as her new friends with open arms. Today though, she only wanted the reassurance that her mother was okay.

             
“Hi,” Benjamin said, a smile across his face.

             
“Hi,” Rose replied, clutching her ragged, stuffed bear so tightly to her chest that her knuckles grew white. Her eyes bolted to AJ and she scanned him head to foot and then once more for good measure. He seemed fine, and she loosened her grip on the teddy bear.

             
“I’m Benjamin,” he replied, extending his hand.

             
“I’m Rose,” she mumbled, slipping her dainty hand into his. “Gram, where’s Mommy?” Gram had nary a chance to answer as Benjamin redirected the conversation.

             
“That’s a mighty nice bear you have right there.”

             
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’ve had it since I was a baby.”

             
“Well, I can see you take really good care of it. You’re a very special girl,” Benjamin replied.

             
“Are you here visiting AJ?” The little girl grew impatient. She wanted these strangers to leave and allow her back to the house, which Benjamin currently had blocked by taking up the width of the entire path.

             
“We are,” Benjamin replied. “He’s very special, too. Will you take care of him for me?”

             
“Sure,” she smiled, glancing up at AJ with the mischief that always dotted her eyes. Momentarily, she forgot about the fear. Looking at AJ had that effect. When she caught Gram’s eyes, she remembered why they’d raced here in the first place. Even though Gram had tried to hide her worry, Rose sensed the urgency in the drive.

“Can I see my mommy now?” she asked with tears on the brink of breaking loose. Benjamin could feel her alarm and relegated himself to ending the conversation.

              “Well Rose, I hope to see you again someday.” He leaned in towards the girl and whispered in her ear, and a faint smile found its way across her lips. In an instant, AJ knew what was happening. Benjamin looked at him and that was all it took – AJ promptly slid behind Rose, his arm around her back. As Benjamin shook her hand goodbye, she felt the same shock that had rippled through her when Devin had touched her. Benjamin smiled brightly at the girl and paused, looking at their hands. His body turned and a wrinkled eye winked at his colleagues. AJ became almost incensed by the man’s happiness, though Benjamin had done nothing wrong. AJ simply wanted everyone to mourn what he was about to lose.

Rose giggled the innocent laughter of a child and then instantly sleepy, she wrapped her arm around AJ and fell against him in a new dream world; one from which she’d awaken
untainted by the world AJ had brought to them. The weakened warrior carried her over to Gram where no words were said. She took the sleeping child from his arms, fully aware that in a few hours, both of her girls would awaken and neither would remember a thing.

AJ tried to speak but his voice cracked before a single word could be uttered. One hand grappled on his hip, the other shot to his forehead to push the hair back from his face –
and partly to shield his tears.

“I’ll tell Addie we had a little accident. That she was knocked unconscious and she might have lost some of her memory. She’ll be okay. Rose won’t be any worse for the wear either, AJ.”

The mangled words weren’t convincing, as even Gram remained unsure if that would end up being the truth.

“I’m so, so sorry…” he managed to squeak out before dropping both hands to his knees and hunching over.

He wanted to vomit; to purge all of the anger and sadness building within him.

“Son, it’s not your fault,” Gram said, shifting the sleeping princess in her arms to allow one hand the freedom to brace his shoulder. “Life hands us cards. Just when we think we’ve found the hand we’d like to play to win it all, someone’s got a better hand and we have to start all over. That’s what we’ll do – we’ll start with a fresh deal and we’ll see where it takes us. No one would blame you for how you played the game. We can’t always win, no matter how much we want to. Life’s a gamble and most hands aren’t winning hands.
And sometimes, even when we win, we still end up losing it all.”

The heavy explanation didn’t help, as wise as it might have been. He didn’t want to start anew. Gram squeezed gently, nodding to the gentlemen who were now pulling away in their vehicle and leaving AJ and Max there to mourn. She let go, again shifting Rose in her arms
and walking slowly up the staircase to the house.

She turned at the top once more.

“I know what this means.”

AJ
stood silent. He knew, too.

“Are you staying?”

His silence served as answer enough.

“In the morning, when you introduce yourself, be sure this time it’s just as a friend. You’ve made your decision and it is an honorable one; a courageous one. And with it comes the even greater responsibility of letting her make her own choices and live her own life without being crushed by anything else.”

Gram’s words reached straight to his core and shot like lightening through his heart. She was right; there would be no flirting when Addie awoke. If AJ stayed, he would remain a stranger, perhaps just a friend. That is if he stayed.

He nodded up to her as Max wrapped an arm around his shoulder and started to lead him back to the B&B.

It had taken over twenty years to find her and only days to fall in love with her. And in a matter of moments, it had all been taken away. Everything he had ever wanted in life was still in front of him but gone from his realm of existence, all because of a birthright he had been unlucky enough to be born into. The only results of a last glance at Addie’s house culminated in a surge of all the anger, resentment, love, sorrow, and angst he held within himself. The emotion boiled over into a silent and personal vow: to change the world one person at a time.

Moving swiftly through trees as a younger man, Max found it amazing that he had so quickly adapted to the life of a watcher; hiding in the thick brush to shield himself from vision. Having been forced from his home by an angry and confused father, his only option became running – which his parents figured he did, as far away as he could possibly get.

It had never occurred to them that he would still be so near. Yet he hadn’t had the strength to go. To leave his fragile mother alone would have been more than his heart could bear. He didn’t understand what his hands could do. From the moment they had come to life and he had healed that wound, his very soul knew that whatever
the gift was, it was something wonderful. His father was alive and carried the everlasting scar from one of the most horrid days in his existence and Max knew that every glimpse of that terrible raised flesh would serve as a reminder of the breaking of his family. Perhaps that was enough punishment. While heated at first, Max slowly grew to understand the fear and rage his father had felt. The gift remained something not easy to understand. Many years would pass before Max took it all in.

O
nly once more after that fateful day where his father had banned him from the threshold of the only home he had known, that he would speak to a member of his family. As the entire family, sans his grandmother, donned their Sunday best and rode through the early morning fog to church services – hoping to erase whatever evil they felt he had brought upon them – he snuck closer to the house. He wanted to see if they had left anything of his that he might find useful.

As he opened the creaking door
, his conscience almost forced him away – he felt as though he was breaking and entering even though a short time ago, he had spent most of his time within the dilapidated walls.

As he rounded the corner in the dirty kitchen he saw the splintered wooden table he had built with his father as a child adorning the middle of the room. Then he heard her voice. The high-pitched whisper cut through the stillness and he found himself gasping with a brief prayer that she wouldn’t be able to scream. While the
neighboring homes were a good distance off, he judged by his previous luck that one would probably be outside about to knock for a cup of sugar.

“Maxwell?”
The voice was ancient and sickly; raspier than he remembered.

No hint of fear seemed housed within the tone and the notion surprised him.

He took a few steps back to open a clearer view of the downstairs bedroom, which they had obviously made her home since she couldn’t move the fragile bones of her body without assistance.

“Grandmother…” he whispered, carefully trying with the few words between them to assess if she was disgusted by him or… or perhaps missing her grandson.

“Come,” she whispered, her hand lightly patting the blanket over her stomach.

She wanted him to sit with her. He looked cautiously around the room as though someone might be waiting to pounce.

“I just knew you’d come back. They’re all gone…”  She knew exactly what he was thinking.

He inched very slowly towards her bed, their eyes locked in a mutual staring competition.
He focused on being careful not to touch her for fear of what his hands might do. He noted that her eyebrows were relaxed, her lips almost turning into a smile. She had always been beautiful to him, but her unconditional love at that moment made her even more so. He slid onto the quilt, scooping his hand underneath the fabric and then her hand, creating a barrier between their skin before lightly squeezing.

The tears stung his eyes instantly. He hadn’t expected to be this close to anyone he loved again. From a distance he had watched her condition deteriorate until he knew
, through her absence outdoors, that the time was near. He hadn’t seen a wooden coffin or a throng of visitors so he knew she was still alive. He also had thought with all of his heart that he’d never see her again.

Growing up she had been the laughter in his life. His mother was a beautiful, sweet woman as well, but she was second in command in the household. She obeyed his father’s every whim, even as he forced her firstborn from their home as she stood in the background crying. She hadn’t argued, hadn’t put up a fight – it was his grandmother’s screams he heard from the kitchen that he remembered all too well. She had fought for him, but as a simple woman her cries had not been heard. But at least she had tried, he thought.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done,” he told her, squeezing gently.

The wrinkl
ed hand reached up to his face as he shied away from the touch he remembered. When he was a child, she’d stroke his cheek gently and then place her palm against his cheek. She was always so warm, so full of love. The way he always wanted to remember her.

“You’re different,” she said slowly, choking to get the words out.

He reached for the nearly empty glass of water on her bedside table; however, she pushed it away.

“You’re different. Like me.”

He looked at her quizzically, wondering if senility had begun taking over her withered body. She was still smiling and he could see in her eyes that she was the same woman she’d always been.

“We’re two of a kind, grandmother,” he said with a smile
, forgoing his fear and placing his hand over hers.

“More than anyone knows,” she whispered.

She eased her hand down and pointed to a mahogany box on the table. A jewelry box, simple and beautiful. The one he’d made her in his father’s workshop when he was only eight or nine. It was completely uneven, the lid barely closing, but he had beamed with pride the moment he had given it to her. Using leftover paint he found in the barn to create a shaky and unsteady design on the top, he’d carefully created his grand masterpiece for a woman he dearly loved. She’d acted as if it were the most glorious present she’d ever received.

He reached for it and handed it to her. She slowly opened the
with crooked, arthritic fingers that had difficulty opening it, and reached in. She handed him two items – one, an envelope with a wax seal on the back, and the words “To My Maxwell” simply written on the front in wobbly scrawl. The other was a chain with a charm attached. He’d never seen anything like it. She lowered it into his hands slowly, medallion first followed by the chain. She then closed his hand tightly around it, her fingers gripping his as much as they were able.

“This will explain it all,” she whispered. “Most importantly my grandson, is that you remember we are more alike than most people are. You will understand. You were born for greatness and that is something people as weak as your father cannot comprehend or accept. You will rise above this and go on to greatness.”

He looked at the envelope with longing eyes, wanting to tear the yellowing paper to reveal the contents. Her eyes warned him not to.

“Not here. You must go, my boy
, before they return and find you here with me. I know you’re watching us; I can feel you. One day though, you must move on and begin to live your life. The life you were destined for. We are weak, but you are strong. Remember that.”

“I will,” he whispered back.

He leaned down to kiss her wrinkled forehead and she squeezed his hand back with all the strength she could muster – which wasn’t much.

“I love you, G
randmother.”

“And I love you
. Now go.”

As he approached her door he no longer had the need for anything else from this home until he saw the duffle bag hanging on the hook near the door. His mother had made it for him. He grabbed it and darted from the porch before he began missing anything else. He wanted to be new, his own person
earning his own belongings.

He sat in the trees awaiting their return, as he always did. He watched as his mother, father, and siblings descended from the carriage and proceeded into the house. He saw his mother glance around nervously. She did this every single time he saw her outside of the house. She always seemed to be watching as if he might bolt out of the shadows and beg to be taken back in.
Or perhaps she was simply scared of him. A fear lingered in her eyes at all times and he could never figure out if it was a fear
of
him or
for
him. His siblings acted as if he’d never existed, not even a hint of sadness in their eyes. Perhaps, he thought, that hurt the worst.

It was shortly after that day that his grandmother passed. Not long after that his mother succumbed to her grief and passed as well. He hadn’t dared to open the envelope yet
. As they shoveled the last bit of dirt over his mother’s grave he lowered from his perch on one of the branches he was looking down from and removed the now-tattered envelope from a tattered vest pocket.

Tearing the edge slowly, he unveiled the letter from within. The page contained words written in the same wobbly scrawl
which had graced the front. He’d treasure that writing forever, as it remained the last verification he’d had that someone had loved him.

He unfolded it carefully
, as though it might disintegrate at any moment and began reading in the early noon light that shone high above him. For such a sad day, it was one of pure beauty, nature-wise.

             
“My dearest grandson,             

Your father is right about only one thing – you are very, very different from the rest of them. Only it isn’t an evil difference, as he believes. It is
an irony of sorts that he feels the way you saved him is evil.

He doesn’t understand and for that, you must learn to forgive him. He is merely a man
; a man of only one layer. He should not be held responsible for not being privy to a secret you and I hold.

You are like me, sweet grandson. A Healer. The moment your father rushed in the door, his shirt riddled with blood and his eyes wild with fear, I knew that one of two things had happened; you had been killed or he had been healed. As he tore off his shirt to examine his scar more closely, I was sure. I was also sure of what the future would bring for this family. They don’t understand and my hands are too old and feeble to write it all out for you.

If you head due northwest from here by horseback, in two days time you will come upon a Native American tribe. They are peaceful friends of mine from the past. Show them the marking you bear upon your neck and they will guide you, as they did for me so very long ago. They will explain it all to you, my boy, and you will find your tranquility.

Know that I love you dearly and I know what a good person you truly are. I will guide you from the heavens and will forever be on your side. Be well, be strong, and be safe. And always remember first and foremost, be yourself.

              Love,

             
Grandmother”

He reached around and felt the back of his neck. There had never been a marking. At least none that had been spoken of. Yet as his fingers ran over his tanned skin he felt it – a small circle of raised flesh. The scar that would serve as a constant reminder, just as his father’s would. Although the scars were very different, they both represented a new life for those they adorned.

He read through the words once more and tucked the letter into his vest. With
the medallion around his neck and his grandmother’s soul to guide him, he embarked upon the first day of the rest of his life.