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Monday, April 29, 2013

Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 63

The house was quiet.  Todd and Blair had just finished putting the Santa gifts under the tree, and headed upstairs to the master bedroom suite. 


Blair went into the bathroom to remove her make up, and brushed her hair.  Slipping into a red nightie, she crawled into bed next to him, before noticing that he was holding his mother's letter in his hand.  She said, "You going to read it?"


He said, "I'm thinking about it, yeah."  Chains, from the ceiling.  They're clanging . . .


"You're afraid, a little," she asked, seeing his expression.


He nodded.


She said, "Todd, do you want me to read it for you, or to you?"


"Maybe."


He held it like something very precious.  Her heart broke for him, and she said, "This was a pretty eventful Christmas Eve."  His attention was still on the letter.  She said, "It's a beautiful envelope.  Look what she's done, all by hand."


He said, "She's an artist."


"She is."


"She . . .brings a lot back to me, Blair.  Stuff I didn't even know I remembered."


Her suspicions had been right.  "It must be hard."  He'd been barraged by memories.  He'd dealt with it all himself.  He must be having those flashes, and I just want to take it all from him.


"It's hard but it's strange.  It's like all of the sudden a new door opens, and all this stuff comes out."


"What can I do?"


"You're doing it."


She turned on her back, and her head was right inside the crook of his arm.  She began pulling at the edge of the blanket, and he looked toward her.  He said, "I guess I have a choice.  That red nightie, or the letter."


She smiled, and continued, "Whichever you like is okay with me."


He put the letter on the nightstand.  "I like both.  But right now, I'd just feel better with your arms around me, than having more memories rushing toward me.  At least right now."


She straddled him, and bent her head to kiss him, as his hands slid over the satin of her nightgown.  "Seasons Greetings," she said.


***


It was in the middle of the night that Blair realized Todd was thrashing in the covers, and turning toward him, she attempted to slowly touch his face, and tell him he was safe, when he jerked awake and for a moment, didn't breathe.  Then, gasping loudly, he began to struggle for breath.  "Oh, God," he said in the darkness, and she sat up beside him.


She whispered to him, "You're all right.  You're home, with me, the kids are all right."


Still caught in the confusion between dreaming and lucidity, he said, "He's going to kill her."


She softly said, "Who, my love?"


"Peter.  He's going to kill Patches."


"Patches?  Who's Patches, Todd?"


"The cat.  The cat in the back yard.  I named her Patches.  She has no home, she comes here and I feed her."


"You're not there, Todd.  You're at Unforgettable and you're grown up.  It's me, Blair, with you.  Our children are asleep."


He put his forehead into his hand, and sighed jaggedly.  "God.  Blair.  It's dark, I can barely,"


She immediately put his hands around her waist and moved to hold him.  She said, "You had a nightmare.  It's all right.  It's over.  Been a while."


His mind moved into the present.  He breathed more calmly.  "He killed the cat.  Made me watch.  He broke her neck."


She said nothing, and just let him tell her what he needed to in the dark privacy of their room.  His hands were trembling against her.  She said, "It's all right."  What else can I say to him?


"He told me he'd do that to me or to my mother, if I told anything about what he did to me.  He said he was going to make the cat an example, and he dragged me into the yard to see.  Broke her neck with his hands, like a stick."


As he had done before, he slid himself down so his head was in her lap, and she ran her hands over his hair and face gently.  She soothed him with her whispers, and said, "Do you want to tell me anything else?"


"That's it.  That's all there is right now."


She said, "It's okay."


He said, "Sing.  Sing, Blair."


She did.  She sang some Christmas songs and explained that they were from her childhood.  He listened and soon, he was calm and his breathing was normal.  His shaking had ceased.  She finished her third song, and said, "You want to try and sleep or bathe or just stay up, talking?"


"Can we stay like this?"


"Of course.  Can we just set up some pillows, so I can prop myself and not get a back ache?"


He sat up and did it for her, and making her comfortable, put his head back in her lap.  His arms were wrapped around her and he had brought his knees up close to his chest.  She continued with the caressing of his hair, and face, and occasionally, leaned down to kiss his forehead, nose or eyes.  Finally, he said, "Blair, the letter."


She said, "Okay," and reached for it, handing it to him.  


He said, "Turn on the light."


She did.


"Open it."


She tore the flap open as carefully as possible, as to not tear the paper.  Inside were two folded pages. The first one was a drawing, of a house.  She showed it to him, and he immediately teared up.  "That's the house I grew up in."  Around the house were swirling arrows, all pointing to what he recognized as the side door.


He looked at it, then closed his eyes, and said faintly, "Momma."


Blair felt a lump in her throat when he said it, and she gently took the drawing from him, and placed it back in the envelope.  He said, "What's the other page?"


"A letter."


"Read it."


"Are you sure?"


"Yes.  Read it, Babe."


He kept his head on her lap, and she kept one hand petting him, soothingly.  She began, This is about my son, you, Todd.  You had a very hard life.  You didn't come out of my body, you came from another person and we adopted you.  Peter wanted money and you came from a rich family.  Peter got a lot of money for taking you.  I wanted a baby and I couldn't have one.  


Blair stopped, and sniffled, and reached for a tissue.  He took the letter from her.  "I didn't know she could not have children."


Blair said, "And this is why you were her Angel and so special to her," she dried her tears.


Todd took over reading the letter:


Peter didn't always hurt us.  He started when you were three, and when he was mad at me, he would do something bad to you.  He would hit you or scare you to make me punished.  Later, he did other things to both of us.  He was not a good father.  He never spent time with you.  You liked to color and draw and make things.  He wanted you to be rough and tackle and throw.  He did not hug you or love you.  Only I did.  Do you remember?


His voice wavered, and she took the letter back.  She said, "Do you, Todd?"


He swallowed.  "Yeah, I remember."  And a hell of a lot of other things.


"Do you want me to read more?  There's not much left."


"Yeah, go ahead and finish it." 


He was not a good father.  He was not a good husband.  He did not hold me or take care of me.  He only hurt me and that was the only way he could put his body with mine; to hurt.  He only liked our tears, not our smiles and wanted to hear our screams, not our laughs.  


Todd, if you go, stay away from the chamber, and don't go near.  It will leave you broken and you will be nothing but a shell.  Nothing will be left of you.  The sparrows will not be able to take you.  You will wish for them, but they won't be able to take you, because there is no sky. 


He wanted to cry, but his confusion won.  "My God, what the Hell did he do?"  Memories were trying to bring themselves into his consciousness, but as much as he longed to know, he also he fought them, because they brought panic into his gut.


Blair, unable to contain herself, openly sobbed.  "What does she mean?"


He took the envelope back from the nightstand.  Blinking back the burn of tears, he looked at the drawing.  "She's telling me to go back.  She's warning me, but at the same time . . ."


Blair wiped her tears and blew her nose.  "I thought so, too."


"Will you go with me?"
  
"To the house you grew up in?"


He nodded.


"Of course, but are you sure you want to go?"


"I think I have to.  Look at the arrows.  She's trying to tell me something, Blair, and I have to know and I think she's trying to help me get the answers once and for all.  God, this is crazy!"


"Shh, I know my love, I know.  We will go.  I'll be with you, at your side.  But now, you should sleep."


"That's not really something I want to do right now.  I just want to . . . feel something.  Something other than what I'm feeling."  I can't.  I don't want to remember ALL of it.  Not now.  I won't.


"What are you feeling?"


He was afraid to tell her, but it was the darkest dread and coldest feeling of evil he'd ever experienced.  He felt a tight pressure in his head, and chest, and for a moment, he wished for the inky black, so he could escape it.  Alarmed at his own weakness, he shivered and said, "I'm cold.  I need, something."


She noticed that he was suddenly cool to the touch, and she pulled the blanket around them.  "Is that better?"


"No, I need you.  I need you, right now, Blair.  Please."


She shut the light and climbed on top of him, covering him with her body, hoping that in the dim night, he would find sleep again.  "Like this?"


He was shaking.  "Yeah, but I . . . think something's wrong.  I can't get warm."  . . . because there is no sky.


She wrapped him in the blanket tighter and got up rapidly, going to the bathroom and running the tub on high, the temperature nearing one hundred intentionally.  She went back to him and said, "Come on, Todd.  Come with me."


He got up, but she noticed he was having difficulty walking, and she became alarmed.  "Todd, come on, come with me."  She helped him into the bath, and he eased in, grasping the sides and then sinking into the hot water.  Still trying to clear his mind, he fought against the terror that threatened to grip him if he let the memory through.


He looked at her.  "Something's wrong."


"I'm here, it's all right."  but she was afraid.


"I just . . . feel . . . Blair, I'm scared."


She climbed into the tub, without thinking of her nightgown, and held him.  "Tell me what it is."


Todd, if you go, stay away from the chamber, and don't go near.  It will leave you broken and you will be nothing but a shell.  Nothing will be left of you.  The sparrows will not be able to take you.  You will wish for them, but they won't be able to take you, because there is no sky.


"I . . .don't. . ."


Blair was becoming frightened, and told herself that if something did not change in the next few minutes, she would call for help.  She said, "What is it?  Tell me."


Todd, if you go, stay away from the chamber, and don't go near.  It will leave you broken and you will be nothing but a shell.   


He closed his eyes, "Blair, it's something, I'm afraid to . . . Oh, no."


It was then that she realized he was fighting the past.  She said, "It's all right, it's only a memory, Todd.  It's not happening now."


. . .because there is no sky.


He looked up.  "Windows.  Glass, windows.  That's why, Blair.  Windows, everywhere.  The penthouse, The Sun, here.  That's why."


There's God coming down.  


"What's why, Todd?"


"The chamber.  No windows, no light.  It was a room, Blair.  Like a . . . closet, a cellar, something dark.  A dungeon."  The chains....the pull chain light....sink, animal in the corner....


She hugged him to her, "It's okay."  She heard her own words, but this time, she was not sure she believed them herself.


"We have to go back.  To Chicago.  Something . . ."


"We will.  Now, shhh.  Let's just stay quiet, for a few minutes.  It's too much, Todd.  It's been a very stressful week, and then yesterday.  Just come here, and let's just be."  She sat along the ridge inside the body of the tub, and pulled him to her.  He rested his head on her shoulder, just above the hot water.  He wanted to do just what she said, and let the memories fade into the steam.  He wanted to run away, or to be inside her, or fly the copter, or to hold his children.  He wanted anything but the things in his mind.  After a while, her touch and soft whispers helped to quell the cramps of panic in his stomach, and he closed his eyes.

"I have to go back.  Please, understand, Babe."



"I understand," she said.  

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2 comments:

  1. What a great chapter. I love this story, more please and soon.:)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much. I will be publishing every day now for a while for Diamond in the Rough.

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