Long Live Dead Reckless Page 21

  “Hello there,” she greeted, her voice as fragile as the translucent skin barely clothing her bones.

  I smiled, but I don’t think she even looked at me.

  “We’re here to see my dad,” I said loudly, trying to gather her eyes away from Sage. He didn’t seem bothered by her stare.

  “You brought your boyfriend?” she asked, finally addressing me.

  I blushed, releasing his hand. Sage gave a pout and took my fingers back.

  “Do we need to sign in somewhere?” I asked, trying to move the conversation.

  I glanced around the counter in front of me and saw a clipboard with a solid black pen attached by chain. It reminded me of being a kid in the doctor’s office and always batting at the cord while mom signed me in. When she would sign our last name, the chain would always retreat like a metal snake off the clipboard and I loved hearing the grating sound of the free-fall.

  “Here, honey.”

  It was said in a way I knew meant she was repeating herself. I’d gotten lost in thought again. I gave an apologetic smile and filled out the paper. She asked for our IDs, and after she looked us over, she scanned two visitor badges and handed them to us. Seeing the red flash across the barcode made me tense up. I stole a glance down at my wrist to see the faded LLDR. It had become disguised in the veins along my skin, with nearly no visible way to distinguish what it once was. I sighed and looked at Sage, who had just attached his visitor badge to his shirt.

  “They just came back from lunch, so he will probably be in the common area with the others. They like to talk and play cards sometimes, but Mr. Gardin…hmm. I’d check his room first,” the receptionist suggested, dipping her chin to study me. “But you probably already knew that, didn’t you, honey?”

  I nodded. As Sage turned towards the door, the old woman touched my hand and winked.

  “Your dad will like him.”

  She patted my hand and hurried off – or, as fast as someone her age could hurry – and for the first time in that place, a real smile found my lips. I knew what was coming, and for once, it was something good.

  Dad was sitting in the same place I left him. He was on the edge of the old pleather chair, the rips on the edges showing the wear of hands moving and gripping those places the most. Dad was still, his gaze fixated on the window ahead. He was at the end of a corridor, so it was quiet near his room. The door was open, like most are for safety.

  My stomach knotted up at the sight of him. I could only see the true sorrow, the true pain in unguarded moments like these, when he didn’t expect me or see me yet. For some reason – maybe something to do with being a parent, I didn’t know – he put on a good show for me every time I visited. It was always like he was better, or at least not any worse than the day he was brought in. I think he wanted me to believe we would be a family again. I ignored the times I caught him crying at the window like it was his only friend. I guess I was playing a role for him, too.

  He was bathed and freshly dressed, but it was still hard to see the aging around his eyes and mouth. Those eyes were so full of fun and love just a year or two before. That mouth told me wonderful things that every daughter needed to hear from her father. But they weren’t the same. They were weathered with despair and depression, beaten with the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again even if he could be.

  There was no hurry in his mind to heal for the outside world. It was empty without mom in it. I think being strong for me was too heavy a load for him to bear, but I was ok with that. I told him as much once, but the way he looked at me, I could tell he only saw a little girl with missing teeth proudly showing him some horrible art project. Even if he heard what I said, he didn’t believe the words. A baby had said them. His baby.

  They could change his clothes, but they couldn’t change his sickness. Only Sage could do that. And Sage was here. Sage’s thumb rubbed against mine, pulling me out of the sullen moment. His warmth filled me with peace. I smiled at dad even though he couldn’t see me yet. Redemption had arrived, and I brought it through the door.

  “Dad?”

  He shuffled and wiped his eyes quickly, probably hoping I hadn’t noticed his attempt to rid his tears before I got close enough to see them. He coughed and stood, whirling around with a grin. He stopped when he saw Sage.

  “Peanut – oh…who’s this?”

  I looked between them and stepped forward, letting go of Sage’s hand.

  “This is Sage. He’s my friend from work. I hope it’s ok that I brought him?”

  Dad nodded vigorously and gave a quick smile at Sage. He straightened his collar and brushed off his jeans as he strode across the room in two steps.

  “Yes, wonderful. Please come in, son,” Dad replied, pumping Sage’s hand like they’d just agreed on some major merger.

  Sage gave a sweet smile.

  “Thank you. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

  After I hugged him, we all settled into the chairs around the room. Dad tried to keep the same bright-eyed, friendly manner, but I could tell he was exhausted. He probably didn’t sleep the night before, but he wouldn’t tell me that.

  “Sage, was it? You a musician? You look like one,” Dad said.

  “Yes, Mr. Gardin.”

  Dad slapped his knee.

  “I knew it. My little peanut is a musician, too. It makes sense that she’d be interested in someone like you. She’s very talented. Have you ever heard her play the piano? Or sing? Such a beautiful voice. Just like her mother does – I mean, did,” Dad said, suddenly stopping.

  His eyes caught mine and we stared at one another. Every time either of us mentioned mom, we were brought back to the same moment in time – the funeral. It was there that we caught eyes for the first time in days. It was a fleeting look, but we cycled back through it a billion times over since that day. It was a somber, soulless look – one that acknowledged the void we would suffer the rest for our lives. The one that said she was really never coming back.

  It was a place of no tears. We could only feel the agony of loss, and we shared it because it was the only way we could keep from feeling totally, utterly, completely alone in the world. Dad broke away first, looking down at the ground. I was equally shattered, unable to speak. Sage had come for my father, but he decided to save us both then.

  “No, sir, I haven’t had the pleasure, but I couldn’t imagine a single thing about Talor not being beautiful.”

  Dad sniffed as he brought his attention back up, his gaze softening. There were still fresh tears glistening in the gray, but they started to clear the longer he looked at Sage.

  “You’re exactly right, son. A blind man could see that about my peanut.”

  “You’re exactly right. A blind man could see that about my peanut.”

  My cheeks burning, I fiddled with the frayed edges of my own chair.

  “So, Dad, how have you been?”

  He sat back in his seat.

  “I’ve been good. Good. I think my time here’s just about done. Dr. Andrews said this week that he was going to submit a letter about my condition to the court. With medication – which I don’t need, but I do take,” he said, raising his voice as sat up and leaned to one side of his chair, looking into the hall, “I’m well able to go home.”

  Home. Oh, you mean my childhood home? The one you burned down with me inside it, Dad? I tensed at the unwelcome angry thoughts rising up in me, trying to remind myself that it wasn’t his fault. But still I frowned as Dad sunk back into the chair. Letting out a silent breath, I righted my emotions before he looked back at me, but I know Sage caught my quiet anger. Dad smiled and shrugged, his knee jumping along with the twitch in his hand. I watched it do that, knowing he was unaware of it. He couldn’t focus on more than one thing, and he was trying to control his facial expressions the most.

  “That’s great,” I said.

  “So you won’t have to come back to this crap hole again, honey,” he said, wi
nking at me.

  “Oh, well –”

  “As long as I don’t see anything else. Or hear the voices, or…anything like that. I know I’m getting better. I know I am. I want to so much. I want to. And the things I was seeing, those things are starting to go away. There were things in that house, I’m telling you, but I’m not seeing anything anymore. I’ve been sober for nearly a year now, Talor. Did you tell him that?”

  Sage sat forward in his chair and brought his hands into a steeple against his chin. It looked like he was getting ready, and so I leaned forward on the armrest and raised my voice a bit so dad would listen instead of ramble.

  “I’m glad, Dad. Listen, the real reason I came here today is because I know that you’re not crazy. I’ve always believed it, but Sage can prove it. And even better – he can make it all stop.”

  Dad ignored me and focused on Sage.

  “You seem like a good boy, you know that? You don’t let anyone make fun of her because of me. You take up for her. I know her little friend Azalea is good to her, but I want her to be with a man who can defend her good name.”

  “No one makes fun of me, Dad,” I interjected, almost embarrassed that he suggested that to Sage. Though technically, I suggested the same thing to Sage that night in the diner. Dad kept going, like he had to get all the thoughts out. Like they were a breath being held in too long. Like he needed to take a deep breath and all those thoughts were in the way.

  “I only tried to burn the one I could see, son. I know there were three other demons in that house, but I could only see the one. It was just a shadow, but I saw it. It kept laughing at me. I really thought if I burned that corner of the house –”

  “Dad, please stop. Listen to me,” I interrupted.

  “There wasn’t a body after the flames had been put out. There wasn’t. I even showed them where to look, but the body was gone. That isn’t right, son. Someone moved it, I said. I grabbed the guy’s collar. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, but –”

  Sage looked at me, and I could only meet him with tearful eyes. Dad kept babbling, his eyes focusing on some non-distinct part of the floor. Sage nodded to me and slowly stood up. The chair began to slide away from him and the door closed. I could only watch the scene unfold with wonder. Sage’s skin began to glow with a soft bluish hue as he knelt before dad.

  There were voices down the hall coming to the commotion of dad going into a fit. Dad’s voice fluctuated from hysterical to polite and back again. The paint on the wall began to vibrate with such fervor that the world became as loud as sound could get right before the eardrums burst. I felt something cool like blood ooze from my ears as the ringing took hold of the room. Sage watched dad as though nothing was happening.

  I think he was listening to the whole story. I think he wanted to know it all before healing him. When dad’s lips stopped moving and he finally looked up, Sage reached out and touched his lips. A flash of light passed from Sage into dad, and a miracle unfolded before my eyes. The babbling, a thing without a face or identity apart from its host, materialized in the air and melted as it tried to transfer to Sage. The warm light glowing as a circle between them acted as a machine drawing impurities from the soul and flushing them with Sage’s immense power. It was like watching a star burn up close, glorious and terrifying.

  Once the disease my father had suffered was gone, Sage’s skin hummed back into the gentle familiarity of freckles. The room slowly took on its volume again. The voices remained down the hall. The door was open. Sage rested back in his chair with the collar of his shirt soaked in sweat. His eyes were shut, his lips parted slightly. I felt my ears for blood, but nothing was there. I went over to him and touched his shoulder.

  He reached up and touched my chin, giving this weary smile. I was almost afraid to look at dad and see if it had really worked. A part of me still didn’t believe in miracles and magic, even though I knew the supernatural was real in the world. But I had accepted that dad would be a paranoid schizophrenic for the rest of our lives, and I had to talk myself into looking at him now.

  When I did, I saw my real dad, not the silhouette soul he’d become. The weathered look had evaporated from his face. The fear, the pain, and the distrust – they were all gone. There was a real smile on his lips. The same lips we shared. The smile reached all the way up to his eyes. The same eyes we shared. There was true hope, true joy, true happiness – all of which in that moment – we shared because we weren’t alone anymore. And there was a flicker of light in that void. Something good.

  24

  Bex called me Sunday afternoon to see if I wanted to go to Citizen’s Park. It was a cold day, but as luck would have it, I had recently bought a new sweater I wanted to wear. I agreed to meet her after six. My phone had been pretty quiet all weekend, but my thoughts were quite the opposite. I hadn’t heard from Sage after he healed dad. While I was happy that dad was ok, part of me started to worry that Sage thought I was only taking advantage of him. I developed a bad habit of checking my phone religiously while I waited him out.

  To make matters worse, I felt like I had a fever all night, but I didn’t feel sick. It was probably the insanity of obsessing over a relationship I’d never have taking hold of me. Then there was the whole open “investigation” on me since Spencer was still missing. Bosh didn’t know anything about his disappearance, the police investigation, or Spencer’s car keys left on our doorstep. I had kept her safely out of the gathering storm.

  But there was still the matter of Rami. Thinking about him made me brush a finger against my wrist. I noticed it looked like it’d started getting infected the way a real tattoo does – with a slight redness highlighting the letters. Remembering not to touch it, I jerked my fingers back and used them to wrap a scarf around my neck. Before I left, I made extra sure Bosh didn’t get close enough to feel my skin. Even without actually having a fever, she would object to me doing anything outside in winter. She glanced up from her newspaper with sharp brown eyes.

  “Button up your jacket, honey.”

  “Ok, Bosh.”

  I did the button quickly. It seemed enough to bolt out the door unopposed. As the day dipped below the tree line, I relived the healing at the clinic. I remembered the painful wincing of Sage’s face as the entities absorbed inside him and dissipated. He hadn’t done that on stage when he healed hundreds that time at The Journey. I didn’t know why it looked more difficult to heal just one person at a time. It didn’t make sense, but then again, nothing about it did.

  There were a ton of cars parked up and down the street when I walked up. I could hear a crowd, but it just sounded like white noise. There were bright lights set up like those at an outdoor concert. A few sugared-up kids pushed past me as they chased each other towards a long, loud line. It wasn’t until I got closer that I saw what the line was waiting for. Bex wrapped a bear hug around me from behind.

  “Free ice-skating! Whaaarht? The only problem is the line, and the people in general. But come on, we saved you a spot.”

  She took my arm and started leading me through the crowd.

  “Since when does Cypress have an outdoor ice-skating rink?” I yelled, trying to compete with the clamoring voices. I felt silly yelling, but it was the only way to be heard.

  “I don’t know, but I knew you’d love this! Everyone’s here,” she said with a wink.

  “Wait – what do you mean everyone?” I screeched, my jaw and stomach tightening in anticipation.

  With that, she pushed me ahead to the front of the line where Azalea, Jesse, Larissa, Kyoko, and Sage were standing. They had their skates in hand. Sage was smiling sweetly and holding a pair for me.

  “They should be the right size,” he said, shyly offering them.

  To keep from melting, I looked to Azalea and Larissa, who had the goofiest looks I’d ever seen as they hugged me.

  “Surprised?” Azalea asked, letting a devious smile slide across her perfectly lined lips.

  “
The hat is so cute,” Larissa cried, grabbing it and pushing it around on my head.

  “Ugh, no,” I sighed, knowing my hair looked wild once again.

  Sage bit his lip and released it quickly.

  “Happy Birthday, Talor,” Jesse and Kyoko said in unison.

  “But it’s not –”

  Azalea slapped a hand across my mouth and pulled me close.

  “Shhh, don’t finish that sentence, trust me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now be polite and thank everyone.”

  “I definitely didn’t expect this,” I said, nodding and giving a thumb’s up. So they were throwing me a fake birthday party so I could hang out with Sage. I wouldn’t ruin it. Satisfied, they gave each other high fives. Once we were able to find a free bench beside the line, we all got to work putting on our skates. Sage sat across from me. I wished I’d worn more make-up. And not taken that late nap. I was still groggy.

  “I missed you at work,” I said.

  “Larissa mentioned that.”

  I kept my head down.

  “Oh she did?”

  I watched him do a double knot on his laces.

  “I missed you, too,” he said.

  My mouth dropped open as I finished my laces. I knew he was smiling at me, but I didn’t dare look. I glanced back at Azalea, who was busy bossing Jesse and Kyoko around as they got out on the ice. When I finally found the courage to look him in the eyes, I felt better. He was good at that.

  “You have good friends, you know?” he asked, chuckling as he stood and pulled me to my wobbly feet.

  I looked around. Jesse was holding the side for dear life as Kyoko pulled at him. Bex was scoping out the single guys skating. Azalea and Larissa were still giving each other high fives for some reason. They were really proud of themselves. And they’d done this all for me. I smiled and felt it all over my body. Good friends.

  “Yeah, I know.”