After Forever (16 page)

“A Falling Star.” I quickly shielded my eyes
when Benedict’s body burst into millions of tiny moonbeams. When I
removed my hands I found Faith kneeling beside her son’s limp
body.

“Oh, no!” my hands flew to my mouth as tears
rush to my eyes. I slowly sank to my knees as a sob rose in my
throat. “Nononono!”

“He’s dead,” Faith sobbed; her fingers on
Orlie’s wrist. When our eyes met, hers mirrored my own: heartbroken
and watery.

“He can’t be…” I whispered. I gently touched
Orlie’s shoulder and shook it, expecting him to open his eyes. But
he stayed silent with his teardrop eyes closed. My vision faded in
and out while my head started to spin. I went to steady myself, but
the blackness swept me up.

The soft pitter-pattering of rain guided me
out of a deep sleep. I opened my eyes to a squint and saw a
chocolate brown pillow under my head. I was lying on my stomach in
a queen-size bed. It was Orlie’s bed. I could smell his musky scent
on the sheet. My stomach clenched as last night hit me like a Mack
truck.

I rolled onto my back and reached towards
the ceiling, stretching my arms. Tears stung my eyes. I took one
last sniff of the familiar smell then climbed out of bed. I
straightened the blanket before heading downstairs while smoothing
out my clothes and finger-brushing my hair.

The kitchen was empty and hazy from the
dreary weather. I flicked my eyes to the place I had last seen
Orlie, but it was just floor and bench. Pulling out a chair, I sat
at the table and waited for Faith. I didn’t know what else to
do.

I was twiddling my thumbs when Faith
appeared in the kitchen. She smiled, but it was forced and sad.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said coming over to me. “How did
you sleep?” Faith smoothed my hair with a motherly hand.

“I slept okay,” I lied, folding my hands on
the table. “Where is…” tears choked me up.

Faith sat beside me, holding my hands. “He’s
resting in the sitting room. I couldn’t bear to move my son to the
basement.” Her voice trembled. We were both close to tears.

“What about my mum?” I took a shaky breath
then wiped my eyes.

“I spoke to Anna while you were sleeping.
She thinks you had watched a scary movie with…with Orlie.” Her
voice shook saying her son’s name. “I said you slept over after
having a late night. Anna rang your school and you’re having a sick
day.”

I managed a smile which vanished when I
thought of Orlie. “What happened to him?” I frowned. “He was
protecting me…did Benedict kiss him?” I sounded confused while
searching Faith’s face for answers.

“What did Orlie tell you about us?”

I took a few minutes to recall what Orlie
had told me. “Nightfallers are born during a blue moon…they can
appear without sound…and they can take life.” my eyes grew wide.
“He kissed Orlie! He took his life,” I said, bewildered.

Faith gently squeezed my hands. “I’m afraid
so.”

I slowly nodded as a single tear slid down
my cheek. My eyes stared absently at our hands. “Can I see him?” I
murmured.

Faith rubbed my fingers. “Of course you
can.”

I stood up and slowly made my way to the
sitting room. I had never stepped foot in the room before, but I
had seen it once in passing. The walls were cream, the floor was
polished wood, and a six-foot fireplace sat dormant with two brown
leather armchairs facing it. Bay windows showed the pouring rain
outside, but my attention was claimed by the four-seater couch
sitting in front of the dreary view.

Lying peacefully beneath the windows,
dressed head-to-toe in black was my soulmate. His long fingers were
laced together on his chest and a maroon velvet pillow was placed
under his head. Orlie’s chocolate brown hair was combed neatly, but
the adorable flicks and waves cascaded over his ears.

Tears raced to my eyes and a sob started to
rise in my throat. I felt myself swaying on the spot so I lowered
myself to sit on the coffee table. I leaned my elbows on my knees
and rested my chin on my clamped hands.

The tears I had been holding back surged
forward with vengeance. The sob erupted while my cheeks were
flooded. My eyes were blurry, but I never took my gaze off Orlie’s
still body.

“I’m so sorry…” I whispered. I reached my
hands out to touch him, but I pulled back at the last second. “I
should’ve done something; protected you.” I bowed my head and
closed my eyes. My chest felt tight and my heart ached so
badly.

When cool hands touched me, I let out a
shuddering sob. “Oh, sweetheart,” Faith said, sitting beside me,
hugging me tightly. “Let it out. You’re alright.” Her voice was
soft and motherly as she stroked my hair.

When the tears dried up, I pulled away from
Faith and wiped my eyes. “He shouldn’t be dead,” I said in an
unsteady voice. “He shouldn’t be…”

“Calista, Nightfallers can take life…”
Faith’s eyes held mine as she spoke. “Daybreakers can give
life.”

I frown, staring at her confused, until
Faith’s words register with my brain. “I’m a Daybreaker!” I faced
Orlie’s still body, taking in his peaceful face. “What do I
do?”

“Follow your heart,” Faith gently said
before standing and leaving the sitting room. I stare at Orlie for
a few more seconds then reach out, laying my hand on his.

“You told me that you loved me,” I said in a
low voice. “I should’ve said it back, but I ran away.” I stood up
and moved closer to the couch. I bent over Orlie’s body and traced
his strong jaw line with a finger. “I love you, Orlando.”

My lips gently pressed to Orlie’s crimson
ones. They were tender and cool and lifeless. I scrunched my eyes
closed and kept kissing him. After a minute I pulled away, scanning
his face for signs of life. I sat down, hoping he’d come back to
me.

An hour passed. The rain settled into a
rhythmic pitter-patter. Orlie stayed deathly still. I ran a hand
over my face then went to find Faith.

“He hasn’t woken up,” I said, finding her
sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea. “How long does
it take?” I slid into a chair opposite her.

She put the china cup down and I saw her
hand slightly shake. Faith clasped her hands together before
saying, “It can take minutes, hours or a day. Death is swift, but
life takes time.”

“A day?” I sighed heavily. I closed my eyes
and leaned back in the chair. “I can’t stay here.” I shook my head
then stood up. “I’m sorry, Faith, for everything. You lost your
family because of me.”

“Do not say that!” Faith stood up, coming
around to me. “This happened because of Benedict. He’s the evil
one.” She held my hands. “My son adores you and I can see that you
adore him too. He’ll come back to us.” She hugged me tightly.

Entering my house I heard mum moving about
in the kitchen. I quickly checked my reflection in the foyer mirror
and saw that my eyes were bloodshot. I knew I looked like I had
been crying, but mum would just put it down to a late night. I gave
my eyes one last wipe then headed towards the sounds of my
mother.

“Hey, darl,” mum said when she spotted me.
“Wow! You look like crap.” She smiled as I slid onto a stool.

“I feel like crap.” I mocked a yawn. “How
was work?” I leaned my arms on the island as mum finished the
washing up.

“It was long and quiet.” She hung the dish
rag on the clean plates as the sink emptied down the drain. “We had
about thirty customers over eight hours. I had to keep myself
awake. How was your night?”

“It was…okay.” I wanted to tell mum the
truth, but I knew she wouldn’t understand. “We watched
Wolf
Creek
and it’s really scary. You’d hate it.”

Mum made a face. “I don’t know how you can
watch scary movies.” she shook her head while rubbing her hands up
and down her arms like she was cold. “I like romance and love
stories.”

I rolled my eyes making her punch my arm
playfully. “What’s for dinner?” I asked as the rain petered out to
the occasional shower. Mum had gone over to the refrigerator where
an assortment of takeaway menus had been pinned with magnets. She
perused the covers then plucked one from its frog magnet.

“What about hamburgers?” she held up a menu
with ‘Aussie Joe’s’ printed in bold black writing.

“Sounds good,” I said, sliding off the
stool. “I’m going to see if I can get some sleep.” I was being
overtaken by tears again.

“Okay, darl,” mum said putting the menu on
the bench. “I’m going to the shops. We’ve run out of milk and
bread.”

I climbed the stairs and entered my room
with a heavy heart and watery eyes. I sat on the window seat,
bringing my knees up to my chest, and laying my cheek on my arms
while staring into Orlie’s bedroom.

“Please come back to me,” I whispered as his
curtains danced in a cool breeze. “How can I survive an eternity
without you?” the tears fell from my eyes, landing on my arms.

As mum and I sat in front of the TV; eating
overflowing hamburgers and slurping on soft drink, I felt a sudden
shift in my body. The deep aching in my heart wasn’t as noticeable
and the damned tears dried up all on their own. What did this
mean?

After dinner, I went upstairs after telling
mum I wanted an early night. I grabbed my pajamas then headed into
the bathroom. I scrubbed my skin then my hair and dried myself with
a big fluffy towel.

I sat on the window seat and brushed my wet,
blond hair with its saffron and primrose hues. After fighting all
the tangles, I braided my hair, letting it hang down my back.
Glancing at the clock radio I saw that it was seven-thirty pm. I
grabbed my math book and decided to try and tackle the remaining
questions. After working out one equation I closed the book, going
to bed.

A warm breeze drifted over my bare skin as I
stared into the dark. I was lying on top of the covers as the air
was humid and the temperature was in the low thirties. Mum had
mentioned it was thirty-two Celsius. It was a hot night.

I stretched my legs out and folded my arms
over my head making my singlet ride up on my stomach. As I slowly
relaxed, my eyelids closed, and I soon drifted off.

The red digits on the clock radio flicked to
three am. Something had woken me from a deep sleep. I yawned then
moved my arm across the bed. My hand was resting against something
hard and cool. I turned my head and squinted into the dark. I saw
an outline of a person. I was contemplating turning the lamp on
when the object moved. A cool hand held mine; long fingers lacing
with mine.

Tears immediately jumped to my eyes.

“Cali…” his velvety voice tugged at my
heart.

“You’re here! You’re breathing!” I
whispered.

Orlie rolled onto his side, his arm snaking
around my waist, and he pulled me closer to his body. His tender
lips found my shoulder and they slowly moved up to my neck,
stopping on my temple.

“You brought me back to life,” he murmured
in my hair. I couldn’t answer. I sobbed while clinging to his
shirt. His strong, protective arms cradled me while I cried against
his chest.

When my sobs finally ceased, Orlie kissed my
head before moving his mouth to my ear. “I love you, too,” he
whispered. “I always will.”

DESTINY

By: Cindy Bartolotta

©2013 by Cindy Bartolotta

He knew from the sound, that the batter hit
a home run. It had that certain THWACK to it, more than just a
normal CRACK. It was how the bat resonated when the tempered ash
met leather. Peeking through the worn knothole in the back fence,
he was right. The ball gracefully arched, hung in the air, then
dropped with amazing speed into the outfield bleachers. The crowd
went wild, especially the man who held up his hand, clutching the
ball like it was a huge diamond.

It didn’t matter to the boy that the team
was Class A and considered sub-par, many of the players were local
boys and most everyone in town supported them. Tickets were not
very expensive, but sometimes even twenty-five cents was too much
for him.

‘Bottles’ Steadway watched every home game,
though most were from the outside of the fence. He and the other
veteran ‘wall rats’ were as well versed in team statistics and
baseball rules as the players and coaches. Unfortunately, they were
the only ones who knew it. Seeing a game from inside the fence was
a rare treat.

Born twelve years earlier, an only child,
his given name was Ralph Waldo Steadway. His mother, a school
teacher, named him after the poet Emerson, not realizing she doomed
her son to being called Ralphie or Wally. Given the choice, he
preferred Wally. That name blessedly lasted until he turned eight.
Then the townspeople dubbed him Bottles, because he was always
scrounging around for empty glass soda bottles to return for the
few cents deposit. He took a fancy to the new moniker, proud that
he was not only earning a meager personal income, he was helping
keep the town clean by clearing out litter.

Micah Carson, the town’s banker, once asked
Bottles about the vast fortune he amassed, offering to open a
savings account for the boy.

Politely declining, Bottles explained he
reinvested some of his money.

Micah nearly choked on his beer when the boy
told him what he invested in.

With wide-eyed innocence, Bottles answered,
“the Raytown Raccoons. What else would someone invest in?”

The boy had it figured to a science. An
outfield bleacher seat cost twenty-five cents. At the rate of two
cents per bottle, he needed to find thirteen bottles per every game
he wanted to see from the inside. You would think he found every
last bottle in town. It was easier than it sounded, because out in
the mid-west, it got mighty hot and dry during the summer. Everyone
drank sodie-pop and after a while, he had a regular, exclusive
clientele.

Yes, life was good for Bottles, until he
turned ten. Then one of those life-altering events happened. You
know, the kind of life event that becomes a movie plot. In one
brief week, his world turned completely upside down.