Guardian: Book One Page 5

The assault of the morning’s daylight on my eyes woke me up with a start and the throbbing in my temples made it hard to focus. I didn’t know where I was, though the muted yellow paint and high ceiling looked familiar. The events of the previous night came rushing back to me and I sat up cautiously from under the soft flannel linens of a freshly made bed in the master bedroom. My mother’s room. I was still fully dressed except for my shoes, which I noticed were laying beside the bed next to my suitcase. I couldn’t remember how I had gotten there. I certainly didn’t remember lugging my bag up the stairs.

  Searching my bruised memory, it was clear I had consumed too much wine. My playing the piano and the bitter emptiness that had consumed me was a fuzzy memory at best. The strumming sound and the figure that I saw in the piano’s reflection seemed real enough, but after that, the night was a blur. I attempted to stand only to be knocked back down by the heaving in my stomach. Staying down, I waited for it to pass and tried to put the pieces of the previous night together to where they made sense.

  How had I gotten upstairs and into bed? I vaguely remembered someone helping me up the stairs, coaxing me into bed with a gentle word, but that was impossible. Unless . . . maybe Sulley came back to check on me? Could be. I decided to blame the wine for any and all mysteries from the night before. Never having been much of a drinker, I had obviously over done it. Less next time.

  The fog of sleep started to wane as I succeeded in standing and staggered toward the bathroom, shielding my eyes from the sunlight spilling in through the open blinds. I was stunned to come face to face with my own image reflected from an old mirror which hung from the wall as it had all those years ago. I thought that the antique mirror that my mother and I found once at an antique shop in downtown Asheville was ugly at the time we discovered it, the then dull brown frame and scratched, cloudy glass had not impressed me in the least. Mom saw only its possibilities. She had always been able to see the potential in even the ugliest things. It was one of the things I admired about her most.

  Sure enough though, after Mom had wiped, polished, and buffed it for about an hour, the mirror was a beautiful sight. The wear on the glass in some spots showed its age, but gave it a rustic appeal when set against the gleaming yellow brass. I was glad that the tenants throughout the years had left it hanging. I gave it one more admiring glance before heading into the bathroom.

  Eight hundred milligrams of ibuprofen and a hot shower later, I felt like myself again. I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy white towel while a trail of steam billowed into the room behind me. Nothing beat a steamy shower, nothing, and I was guilty of using every bit of hot water in the house on more than one occasion. I took a deep, relaxing breath and noted how cheerful the room looked now that the explosives in my head had been disarmed. Funny how things feel so much more positive in the light of day, when he darkness of night has been vanquished.

  Once dressed, I stopped to peek into my old room. It was completely barren; the once plum-purple walls now painted a standard eggshell white. The only remnants of my juvenile decorating abilities were the dozen or so glow-in-the-dark stars adhered to the ceiling. I was glad that Sulley had chosen to put me up in Mom’s room. It felt more familiar.

  When I paused at the piano to lower the lid back over the keys, I glanced in its glossy finish as I had last night and when I saw nothing, chided myself for being such a pathetic drunk. I opened all of the blinds downstairs and let a flood of golden rays permeate the shadows. Yes, everything felt better in the light of a new day I decided and continued into the kitchen.

  While forcing a scrambled egg and some toast into my queasy stomach, I remembered that I had forgotten to call Aunt Maggie last night. She would begin to worry if I didn’t call soon. When I excavated my phone from my less than organized purse I scowled at the lack of battery and even worse, lack of reception. No bars whatsoever. Great.

  It was half past ten and Sulley wouldn’t be here for over an hour so I decided to save him a trip and walk to the station. I could use the phone there. It looked like a nice day for a walk and it would be good to get some fresh air, to get a feel for the neighborhood, and more importantly, put some emotional distance between me and the house.

  The walk to the police station wasn’t a long one. The air was brisk but refreshing. I didn’t have a key to the house which almost stopped me, but then I remembered how rarely the people of Saluda locked their doors and decided to risk it. I couldn’t help but to stop at the mailbox on my way to the street and run my fingers over the hand-painted roses. Following the same compulsion, I placed my palm against the handprint I had left as a child. My hand now dwarfed the purple print. I felt a strange connection to my childhood self, and an intense longing to protect that child from a future she couldn’t see coming. I ran my fingers over my mother’s handprint and sighed.

  The sound of a gunning engine brought my head up with a start just in time to see a white Chevy pickup truck speed away, screeching tires wailing into the distance. I barely had time to note the rental plate before it disappeared down the street.

  “Someone must be late for work,” I mumbled and continued on my way.

  The vividly leaves swirled about my ankles as I walked and the air smelled of sweet cedar and chimney smoke. I occupied my mind with thoughts of the house and what I might do with it. It had been my intention to sell it to the first taker, but now I wasn’t so sure. There was a stirring inside me that I couldn’t settle. I longed for the cool indifference that I had felt less than twenty-four hours ago.

  My mother would want me to keep the house. She would also want me to be happy. How could I be happy here without her? I knew what she would say. She would tell me to pray about it. That had been her answer to everything. Should I take up the flute or aspire to be as brilliant on the piano as she was? Pray about it. Getting picked on at school? Pray about it. Princess pajamas or butterflies? Pray about it. And we did. It always seemed to help back then.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had prayed. Well, aside from the occasional, “Please God don’t let me fail this exam” or “Thank you God” when the light stayed green when I was late for work. But an actual sit down, tell Him what’s on your mind, conversational prayer? I hadn’t prayed like that since I was a kid kneeling beside my bed at night. Truth was, after Mom and Gary died, I no longer saw the use in it.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in God, I did. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around how He could let such evil things happen to good people. My mother had taken me to church every Sunday. She would make sure I said my prayers before I went to sleep each night and I couldn’t count the number of times I snuck into bed with her during a storm to find her propped up reading from her Bible.

  Gary had been a believer as well, and a good man. He had loved me like his own daughter the little time we had together as a family. Why then did God allow them to be murdered, butchered on the side of that road? What did Mom or Gary do to deserve that? Where was God then? How could He let their killer go free for all of these years? Why leave me alive to suffer their loss?

  I never understood any of it. It’s not that I didn’t want to pray. Sometimes I did. I just couldn’t think of anything to say to a God that I had once thought of as loving and kind, but who turned out to be cold and cruel.

  By the time I made it to Main Street the wind had died down and the air had grown warmer. I looked at my watch, pleased. It had only taken about a half an hour to walk to town. Not bad. I crossed the railroad tracks towards the station and was glad to see that Sulley’s truck was parked in the side lot.

  The smell of stale coffee and yesterday’s cigarettes assaulted me when I opened the flimsy, glass door. I had never been inside the station before, I realized. It was less impressive than I had imagined. The main room, the color of a dirty dishrag, was open and scattered with a few wooden desks, which were littered with papers and disposable coffee cups. In the corner of the room sat a small office with one lonely wi
ndow.

  Sulley exited the office and began to rummage through a pile of hand-written messages on a nearby desk before he caught sight of me. He smiled and gave a wave as I removed my coat and tossed it over the nearest chair.

  “Well there’s a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “Thought I was picking you up here shortly. Have a rough night?”

  “I got through it well enough thanks to your generous gift.” I shrugged. “Just felt like taking a walk. Clear my head a little.”

  I took another glance around the room.

  “Where is everyone?”

  Sulley shrugged. “Eh well, there aren’t many of us to begin with. Just me, my deputy, and a few officers. Oh, and Evelyn. Today should be pretty slow, so I sent everyone on home except for Will.”

  “It isn’t just today that’s slow around here,” an officer said as he exited the office behind Sulley.

  “Ah, speak of the devil and the devil appears,” Sulley scoffed.

  The officer was a handsome man, older than me but not by much, with sandy brown hair and commanding dark eyes. He gave me the once over as he approached. I countered with a smile and a nod, which he did not return. So this is the jerk from the window yesterday, I thought. Apparently he was not big on returning friendly gestures.

  “This is my deputy, Will Galia. Will, this is my niece of sorts, Alex Nolan,” Sulley said.

  “Nice to meet you.” I caught myself glaring into his intimidating gaze, wondering why I felt nervous.

  Will just glared back as if he were studying me, scrutinizing my every feature. He made me uncomfortable, and yet there was something very familiar in that sullen expression. And that name . . .

  “Galia. That name sounds familiar,” I pondered. “Wait, I think I know you. Billy Galia, right? You used to take piano lessons with my mom.”

  When his expression didn’t change I knew that he had already made the connection. He nodded and looked away. I remembered him vividly now. Billy, now Will evidently, had been the high school bad boy when I was still in grade school. He was never pleasant to me when he came over to the house for lessons, always making fun of the pigtails I had insisted on wearing on a daily basis. I remembered retreating to my room when he was over. He didn’t smile much back then either, but he had been extremely popular as the “too cool for school” types usually are.

  “That’s right. I was real sorry to hear about what happened to her. I hated piano lessons, but I did really like your mom. She usually made it suck less,” he said.

  “Thank you, I think. She was an incredible woman,” I said and watched as Will walked past me to grab an empty cup from a desk.

  “Would you like some coffee?” he offered.

  “Sure. That would be great.”

  “Chief, what about you? Coffee?”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got to return a couple of these calls so we can go grab some lunch. I’ll just be a minute,” Sulley replied and then vanished into his office with the stack of messages.

  Being alone with Will felt awkward and I tried to figure out what about him made me so uneasy: his rugged good looks, or the intensity in his expression. I was also intrigued by him. Never having known him very well, I had always wondered what the hype surrounding him had been about. There had to be some redeeming quality about him to have been so popular back then, and for Sulley to have hired him as his deputy.

  “You look exactly like what I remember of your mom, by the way,” he said handing me my coffee. “Glad you got rid of those pony-tail thingies though. The loose look is much better.”

  “Thank you. You never were a fan of the pig tails. Always gave me hell,” I said blowing the steam from my cup.” Had known I would run into you I would have thrown on a couple of hair bands for old time’s sake.”

  Will finally showed a glimpse of a smile. I wished he would keep it up, it helped to smooth his rough edges.

  “Well I’m sure I would have appreciated the gesture,” he said coolly.

  There was an awkward silence after that as we both searched for something to say. At a loss I sipped my coffee, the hot liquid bitter and stale going down.

  “So, how long are you planning to stick around town?” Will finally asked and walked to the desk by the front window.

  “I’m not really sure,” I sighed. “There are a few things I need to take care of. I have to decide what to do about the house, and I’d like to go visit Mom and Gary at the church. It’s been too long.”

  “That’s understandable. How are you planning on getting around? The church is too far of a walk from here.”

  “I thought about renting a car, but I really hadn’t planned on staying long enough to need one. I’ll probably ride with Sulley for the most part or I don’t mind the trek.”

  Will sat behind his desk and put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. He squinted his bronze eyes as he stared at me, warring with some decision in his head.

  “Well he’ll be here at the station a lot. I swear that man never takes a break. And there’s no way you’re walking these highways,” he sighed and scratched his head. “You know, I’ve got the old Mustang just sitting here. I’ve been driving the squad car to and from work these days. The old gal needs to be driven. What do you think? You want to borrow her? You’d be doing us both a favor.”

  “You still have the Mustang?” I gawked. “Wow. Now that was an amazing car. I couldn’t possibly . . .”

  “She‘s STILL an amazing car,” Will said, “and she deserves to be driven more than I’ve been able to lately. Seriously, you’d be doing me a solid.”

  I contained the excitement that threatened to put a huge grin on my face. No need to play into his practiced arrogance, even if it was justified. He wasn’t just the hot older guy anymore. We were both adults which evened the playing field. Just play it cool, I told myself, and consider the offer. The Mustang was quite a beauty and also part of Will’s whole bad-boy façade. It was his sidekick. Now after all these years I had the chance to drive it. Who could say no to that?

  “Okay then. I guess . . . if it would help us both out.” I decided.

  “Then it’s settled,” Will said, just as Sulley emerged from the office.

  “What’s settled?” he asked.

  I motioned to Will. “Your deputy here was kind enough to offer to let me borrow his car while I’m in town.”

  Will coughed and readjusted himself in his seat.

  “That’s right. It’s just been sitting out back all day. Might as well be driven by someone. I’ll dig up the keys and introduce you when you get back from lunch.”

  Sulley scratched his head while Will and I awaited his response.

  “Actually, I think that’s a great idea,” he said “Keeps you from having to come to the station with me every day and waiting around.”

  “Well then, you see? I am good for something around here.” Will winked at me and sipped his coffee.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Sulley said and then turned to me. “Ready to grab some lunch? I know it’s early still, but I’m starving.”

  “Yep,” I said starting for the door. “Thanks again, Will.”

  “Not a problem,” he said and turned back to the papers on his desk.

  I pushed the door open and smashed into someone coming in. As I regained my balance I came face to face with the man from the plane. He smiled that flashy smile and I knew he recognized me too.

  “Well I knew we’d bump into one another, but I didn’t think it’d be literally,” he said, laughing.

  “Well I did say the odds were in our favor.” I laughed. “Mr. Brightman, right?”

  “Please, call me Rick.”

  Sulley opened the door wide and offered Brightman a hand.

  “Good morning Mr. Brightman. I see you’ve met me niece.”

  “Your niece?” he asked taking Sulley’s hand. “It is a small world then. She and I were on the same flight yesterday.”

/>   “Well that explains the acquaintance. I assume you’re here to pick up your permits? I finished signing them this morning. They’re just on my desk, let me get them for you. Alex, why don’t you go on and get us a seat. I’ll be there in 5 minutes.”

  “Not a problem. Can I borrow your cell phone? I have no bars and I need to call Aunt Maggie and let her know I’m in one piece.”

  “Sure thing,” Sulley said tossing me his Motorola.

  “Thanks, see you in a sec,” I said. “It was nice to see you again Rick.”

  “Until next time.” He smiled again and I went out the door.

  Jogging across the street and having a seat on a bench at the small park there, I dialed the familiar Chicago number. When no one answered I figured my aunt and uncle had gone to the park. It was their new Friday ritual now that Uncle Dan was retired. I left a message letting them know that I had arrived in one piece and informed them of the bad cell phone reception. I’d call them before I left for home . . . whenever that would be.

  When I hung up the phone I found that I was glad to have gotten their voicemail, which surprised me. I should be feeling homesick by now; I had anticipated as much. But I wasn’t. Maybe that’s because I had never come to think of Uncle Dan and Aunt Maggie’s as home.

  It wasn’t for their lack of trying. They had raised me as their own until I was old enough to move out and even helped pay for college. Aunt Maggie was the one who had landed me the interview for my first teaching job. But their house was no more a home as my humble apartment in the city, I realized as I jogged back across the street in time to meet Sulley coming out of the station.