A Heart for Rebel (15 page)

Doing daily normal
activities were hindered, like trying to open the door with one hand when your
hand is full or trying to open the cap of a soda bottle. I had to get creative
and figure it out. I was temporarily disabled and it sucked ass big time. I had
to have it recast three times prior to having it finally removed yesterday. We
had a total of twenty-five artists work featured throughout the gallery and it
included photography, paintings, poetry and handcrafted furniture. Each of the
artists brought his or her own element to the artistic table. I spent most of
my time in the section of the gallery where paintings were on display. As I
walked around that section, I noticed that accompanying most of the artists'
works were their rough sketches that showed the different stages of the work
being pieced together. This really showed the viewer just how much went into
each piece and the artists' train of thought as they developed their work. I
was enthralled by the pieces on display. One artist, Andrew Bennet, caught my
interest. Even though I could barely make heads or tails of half of his work, I
couldn't stop staring at it. Each piece contained obscure and almost depressing
images thrown together in a way that was amusing and whimsical. It struck a
chord deep inside me. It was as if he painted my life on a canvas, with the
dark and depressing images. I saw my childhood through his eyes with such
clarity that it hurt my heart. I remembered I still carried the unopened letter
from my mother in my purse and everything came crashing down at me at once. The
walls felt like they were closing in on me and breathing became difficult. I
felt weak in the knees. I was dizzy and felt my eyes well up with tears. I
reached out to grab something to hold onto when I felt someone put their arms
around me and whisper, “I got you, Rebel.” It wasn’t Wyatt. It was Oz. My skin
prickled with revulsion. There was something about him that made me
uncomfortable. Sure he was pleasing to the eyes, but I don’t feel anything for
him like I do Wyatt.

“I’m fine Oz.
Please let me go,” I said.

“Rebel, you are not
fine. You looked as if you were going to pass out,” he said.

“Yeah, well I’m
fine now. Please let me go,” I said.

“I like you Rebel.
Take a chance on me. I know I can make you happy,” he said.

“I can’t Oz. I’m in
love with Wyatt,” I implored.

“Why him?” he asked.

“Why not him? I
just want to be with him. I have a million feelings, endless thoughts and I want
infinite memories with just one person…him. I am hopelessly in love with
Wyatt,” I said. He let go of me and I walked as fast as I could away from him.

I
WOKE UP in the foulest mood this morning because
Rebel wasn’t here in bed with me. I got out of bed showered and dressed. I
headed to my grandmother’s apartment for our weekly breakfast date. She always
made my favorites, eggs, bacon and hashbrowns.

“Hi Willie,” I
greet the doorman.

“Good morning, Mr.
Verity. Having breakfast with Mrs. Charolette today?” he said and opened the
door for me.

“Yes, you know it’s
a tradition my grandmother looks forward to every week,” I replied and headed
inside.

I walked to the
elevator and hit the button for the penthouse suite. The elevator opens up
directly into her apartment.

“Wyatt, is that you
son?” my grandmother called out.

“Yeah, grams it’s
me,” I replied.

“I’m in the
kitchen, honey,” she said.

I made my way towards
her kitchen and the smells wafting through the air made my mouth water. It
almost…almost calmed my foul mood. Once I entered the kitchen my grandmother
gathered me in her arms and hugged me as if I were five years old again. I’ve
been having weekly breakfast with her since she took me in when my parents died
and I always felt loved. We kept the tradition going even after I moved out and
to me it felt like home. My grandmother was my home.

“Wyatt, it is
always good to see you, son,” she said.

“It’s always good
to see you too, grams,” I replied.

“You look
different,” she said.

“I do?” I asked.

“Yes, you don’t
look so sad anymore. I don’t see the anger that is normally radiating from
you,” she said.

“Grams, I am never
angry and I was sad because even after all these years I still miss them,” I
said.

“I know, son. I
miss them too. Now tell me, who is this girl that put that sparkle in your
eyes?” she smiled.

“What makes you
think there’s a girl involved?” I playfully asked.

“Wyatt Verity, if
you don’t tell me who she is this very instant, I will put you over my knees
and spank the sass out of you,” she chuckled.

“Don’t you think
I’m a little too old to be spanked?” I said.

“When it comes to
your grams, it’s never too old young man,” she replied while waving her frail
wrinkled hands in the air. My grandmother was sixty-eight years young, but she
was the healthiest, strongest and vibrant senior citizen I’ve ever known. I
loved her with every beat of my heart. She always offered warm hugs and made
sure I knew just how much she loved me. I never had any doubts that I was
wanted. She made sure I never lacked anything, including love. My grandfather,
had passed away before I was born, so it was only me and grams. The two of us
against the world. I gave her a hard time when I was a teenager. I was a
rebellious juvenile delinquent running around with a gang getting high on weed
and almost arrested. I was seventeen when my friend, Jarrett dared me to break
into a tattoo shop. I was young, arrogant and cocky I took the dare while
Jarrett waited outside for me. I broke in and was grabbed from behind. I had no
idea that the owner of the shop lived there in a room in the back of the shop. He
was an older gentleman named Steve. He knew my grandmother and because he had
respect for her he didn’t call the cops or press charges. In exchange for him
not calling the police or telling my grandmother I had to agree to work at the
shop after school. It was because of him that I feel in love with tattooing. He
taught me everything I know. After that I got my act and shit together and made
my grams proud.

“Come on, grams,
let’s get breakfast on the table and I will tell you all about her,” I said as
I gathered the plates filled with our breakfast. She set the toast, butter and
jelly on the table and sat down, “So, tell me what her name is?” she asked.

“It’s Rebel, Rebel
Walker,” I replied with a shit eating grin.

“Oh my darling boy,
you are head over heels in love with her. When do I get to meet the girl who
has captured my grandson’s heart?” she asked.

“Soon, grams, soon.
I promise. You are going to love her. She is the sweetest most gorgeous woman
I’ve ever had the pleasure to call my own,” I said.

“Tell me something
about her,” she said.

“Grams, she has the
most captivating eyes. Her eyes are deep purplish blue to violet. They are
luminous and very beautiful. I could lose myself in her eyes. She has long jet
black hair and creamy complexion. She’s sweet and has such a loving heart. Everyone
falls in love with her,” I said.

“I do believe you’re
in love with her Wyatt. I’ve never seen you this happy before,” she replied
with a smile.

“I am Grams. I want
to marry her,” I said.

“Those words are
music to my ears. I’ve worried about you so much over the years. I always hoped
you would find someone to take over loving you once I go and join my Walter,”
she said.

“Grams, you are not
dying anytime soon. You are too ornery to die. You would probably out live us
all,” I said.

“Be that as it may,
I still worried about you, Have you picked out a ring yet?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t had
time to go shop around,” I replied.

“Well, then I have
something for you. It was your mother’s and I am positive she would want you to
have it,” she said. She got up from the table and made her way to her room. I
waited patiently for her to return. She came back and handed me a black velvet
box. I opened it and inside was a simple, but stunning ring.

“That’s a Martina
ring. It’s 1.9 carat. It belonged to your great-great grandmother and your
father gave it to your mother. I want you to have it and give it to your
Rebel,” She said with a smile and tears in her eyes. I got up from my seat and
pulled my grandmother into my arms for a hug.

“I love you,
grams,” I said.

“I love you too, my
darling sweet boy,” she said.

“Come, let’s finish
breakfast, then I have to head out,” I said.

“Alright, but you
need to tell me more about this wonderful girl. What are her parents like?” she
asked.

“I don’t know. Rebel
has never met her father and her mother is…,” I said.

“Her mother is
what?” she asked.

“I never met her
mother. I only know what Rebel has told me, but based on what she’s told me her
mother was not a very good one, grams. She is an addict and Rebel had to raise
herself and her little sister,” I said.

“Oh, the poor dear.
No child should have to go through that,” she said.

“Yeah, but Rebel is
a fighter and despite her upbringing she’s an amazing woman. She’s an artist
and she’s very talented,” I said.

“She sounds
wonderful and I can’t wait to meet her,” she said. I got up from the table and
took our dirty dishes to the sink and rinsed them off before placing them in
her dishwasher.

“I hate to run,
grams, but I need to get to work,” I said.

“I understand, but
next week I expect Rebel here for breakfast,” she said.

“You drive a hard bargain,
old woman, but I will be sure to bring her with me,” I said.

She hugged me and
kissed my cheek.

My foul mood was
beginning to subside after I left my grandmother’s place. She always knows how
to calm me down. I should have known my improved mood would not last because
the minute I walked into the shop I could hear Ty was on a tear and has
something painfully stuck up his fucking ass. Annie and Ty were yelling at each
other.

“You are such a
dick!” she yelled.

“Yeah, well you’re
a cunt!” Ty yelled back and Annie started to cry. I’ve never seen her cry
before and it struck a nerve in me.

“Hey, hey, Ty
that’s enough and uncalled for. How dare you say something nasty to Annie,” I
said getting between the two of them to separate them.

“Shit, I’m sorry
Annie. I didn’t mean that, I know you’re not a cunt, you’re a bitch!” he
growled sarcastically.

“Dammit Ty, will
you shut the fuck-up!” I screamed. Annie stood there with her head down
silently crying. I gathered her into my arms and hugged her.

“What’s going on
here, Annie?” I gently asked.

“Ty, lost us a
client because he was mean and just plain nasty to the guy.” she whispered.

I looked over at Ty
with my eyebrow raised and said, “Ty, why would you get nasty with a client?”

“First of all,
Annie doesn’t know the whole story. That guy wasn’t just a client, but
Marissa’s brother. He came here threatening me to stay the fuck away from her
or he would kick my motherfucking ass. I’m sorry, Wyatt, but that shit don’t
fly with me. I’m no punk ass pussy turning tail between my legs just because
her big ass brother came in here threatening me,” he snarled.

God Dammit! I felt
like I was working with two year olds. These two are always at each other’s
throat. If they weren’t great at what they did or if they weren’t my best
friends I would can both their asses. Luckily for me there were no clients in
the shop and I was able to diffuse the situation and calm both parties down.

“Ty, do me a favor,
take a walk and come back later. We’ll go to the bar and you can tell me what’s
crawled up your ass. Maybe we can figure out how to dislodge it without ripping
your asshole to shreds,” I said.

“Fuck you, Wyatt,”
he grumbled as he walked out the shop and came back in.

“I’ll meet you at
the bar around the corner at five,” he said and walked back out. I turned to
look at Annie and said, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, he’s just an
ass and he just doesn’t get it,” she replied. Annie has secretly crushed on Ty
for years.

“Annie, you should
just tell him how you feel,” I said.

“I can’t. The
rejection would kill me, besides I think he’s really in love with that girl,
Marissa. I mean I’ve never seen him act that way. I thought eventually he would
tire of all tramps he’s into and finally see me, but I know this girl is
different. He will never see me as anything other than, Annie, his annoying
little friend,” she wailed.