The Glass Secret (Chain of Secrets), page 14
“Yeah, now you and I can hang out all day long.”
“Hum...really? You mean until I start asking you questions about who you really are, or where you came from and where you go when you disappear? Right?”
“I will tell you one day...when the time is right.”
“The time is right now! I will be fourteen in two days. You promised—”
He interrupted me and said, “No. It is too soon.”
“Fine, be an ass,” I whispered.
“Hey, where are you learning to talk like that?” Storm demanded to know.
“I am teenager now, if you haven’t noticed. It’s how we talk. Besides, I’ve learned a lot of bad words from you,” I stammered back. He didn’t respond, how could he?
I glanced at myself in the mirror as I passed by my closet. Not bad. I was thin, tall and my bosoms were growing nicely. My hair wasn’t as curly as it once had been since it now hung down past my waist. I guessed that the weight of it pulled out most of my ringlets, making it long and wavy instead of a corkscrew curly mess.
I climbed to the center of my bed, digging through my mother’s make-up bag. I snuck it out of her room earlier that day. I didn’t think that she would miss it; she hardly wore any make-up as it was.
“What do you look like, Storm?”
“Why? Does it matter?”
“Not really. But, if you’re like...hmm, super ugly...it might.”
“I am not ugly,” he retaliated.
“So, do you have wings?”
“No wings,” he confirmed.
“Really? No wings, huh. How about horns and a tail?”
“Hum, maybe,” he said and chuckled, arrogantly.
“Gross,” I said as I applied a slick layer of lipstick on my full lips.
“What are you doing? You’re so quiet?”
“Making myself prettier.” I puckered and viewed my lips in the small compact mirror. Up close, my lips practically filled the entire space of the mirror.
“Why, for who?”
“Myself. I was wondering since I have never asked you, can you see me?”
“Sometimes, but mostly though I see shadows of you, and of others who are near you. But, I do not see you clearly.”
“Hum. Well, from what you do see...do you think I am beautiful?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Well, if you think I’m pretty, then maybe other boys will too.”
I heard him sigh loudly, mumbling under his breath, “Who cares what boys think?”
“I do,” I stammered. “Answer me or get out of my head.”
“I don’t know.” He paused, leaving me hanging for what seemed entirely too long of a time, especially for what should have been a simple answer. “You’re pretty on the inside,” he laughed loudly.
“Storm, that’s not funny.”
“Okay, I will tell you a secret.”
“Really?”
“Are you dressed?”
“Yes. Why?” I exclaimed.
“Then go stand in front of a full length mirror.”
Although I was hesitant to do so, I stood up and opened my closet. There was a full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the door.
“Here I am.”
I looked at myself up and down appraisingly. My narrows hips jutted out to one side, it was my favorite pose. I was wearing low-rise faded jeans rolled up at my ankles, a pink v-neck tee and black ballerina slippers. My thick blonde hair was secured back in a loose ponytail that hung just beyond my waist. The tiny little rhinestone bobby pins that were holding back my long fringe sparkled nicely. In full-faced make-up—lipstick, eye shadow and all, I looked much older than I was, maybe even eighteen.
“What are you thinking?” Storm interrupted myself examination.
“I don’t know, Storm. My forehead is too big, my eyes are not big enough and my lips are taking over my face. I look like an alien,” I whined.
“Brielle, you are an angel...and you are becoming a very beautiful young woman.”
“What! You can see me?”
“Yes, that’s the secret. When you see your own reflection, I can see you very clearly.”
“Oh my God! You mean all these years you could see me when I looked into a mirror?” I gasped and quickly slammed the door shut.
“Brielle, I would never invade your privacy. I always shut my eyes when you look at yourself—when you are, uh, you know—” Storm stuttered, seemingly embarrassed.
“You better, Buster!”
“I would never look at you when you are, well, getting undressed, or dressed, you know, things of that nature.”
I wanted to trust him. The thought of Storm seeing me naked was something I had never thought about before. The thought simply had never crossed my mind. But, now that my body was changing in places, that even I didn’t look at, I would have to take extra precautions before just stripping down. Great, this revelation left me with no privacy at all.
“There are things happening—growing under these clothes—private things that you don’t need to be looking at. Got it?”
“Don’t worry. I promise not to look.” His tone sounded extremely sincere and for some reason, I believed him. After all, angels don’t lie.
“Where are you? I mean...I know you’re in my head but where are you, really?”
“I am with you.”
“So, does that mean that you don’t have a body?”
“No—I do—Sort of...” His words were suspicious, and I could tell that he was stalling. I feared that he was not going to tell me what he really meant.
“Then, why can’t I see you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I can understand complicated things. Jeez.”
“Like I told you earlier, I will tell you when it’s time.”
“When?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t”
“Why?”
“Brielle, stop it.”
“Stop, what?”
“What you are doing,” he quipped.
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because...why?”
“Because. I said so!”
“So, what should I sew for you?” I burst into maddening laughter and put my headset on before he could have a comeback. I loved having the last word. This made him crazy. I used to love to make him lose his mind. It tickled me to no end.
My trust in Storm swayed like a pendulum, back and forth. We had good days, and then we had the bad ones. At times I wanted to cut-off my head and roll it like a bowling ball in hopes that he would fall out of the holes of my ears, nose or mouth. This was desperate thinking on my part. Then again, there were moments that I shuddered at the thought of what if—what if Storm had never come into my life—my head?
-20-
Puppy Love!
Not again. The jolt came more powerful this time. The colorful lights in my eyes shifted to a gray area. The memories scattered. A force was tossing me about, and I felt sick with nausea. It’s me—seven years old. Good grief, talk about a mind fuck. Just as I got accustomed to my growing self, I’m young again!
I was with my family, spending a typical Sunday afternoon in Central Park. As usual, I was off playing by myself on the swing set when a man pulled up to the curb in a shiny red sports car. He waved to me to come over to his car.
“Hey little girl, do you want a puppy?” The man called out to me from the open window of his car.
My eyes lit up when I saw the little puppy jumping up and down in the passenger’s seat of his car. I leapt off the swing seat into the air and quickly approached his car.
The man in the car had long wavy dark brown hair and a long mustache covering his upper lip that he licked with the tip of his tongue when he spoke. I noticed that he had the coolest tattoo on his bicep of a thick black cross. The tattoo seemed to be an advertisement indicating that he was a good man. He probably goes to church, I thought. He seemed friendly enough to me.
“Sure,” I replied, with the sun in my eyes, squinting. Still, I stayed on the far side of the curb.
“It’s a girl puppy. She’s pretty, huh? Just like you.” The man in the car flashed me a hungry grin. At closer range, I couldn’t help but think he looked like the big-bad wolf.
He was right though; the puppy was so adorable. My eyes flashed back to my parents. They were distracted and not paying attention to me, and, instead tended to my little brother, Brett who had just fallen off the monkey bars. I could hear him screaming his head off like he was dying. He was such a little crybaby, and it seemed like he was always getting hurt. I inched a tad closer to the car, in order, to get a better look at the puppy.
My heart was elated because I had been begging my parents for a puppy. They said if one magically landed in my lap that I could keep it. Of course, I didn’t know at the time this was their way of saying no! Age has a way of teaching us how to twist our words in such a way so that the outcome tilts in our favor.
Looking back, I am sure that my parents were certain that a puppy wasn’t going to magically materialize in my lap. Of course, what they didn’t know was that I had my very own angel that could make this happen. I was about to get my very own puppy. This puppy was a gift from God.
The man sensed my hesitation—after all, most children knew well enough not to talk to strangers. I certainly knew as much, but for a puppy, I was willing to break all of the rules. The man was kind, sensing my hesitation. He reassured me that it was okay to come closer. He told me he had a little girl, too.
He explained that he had bought the puppy for his daughter as a gift on her fifth birthday, but she’d gotten really sick and went to Heaven—tears loomed in his eyes as he relayed the story. A feeling of sorrow filled my soul too. His story was very sad.
“I will give her to you if you promise to take good care of her for my little girl, Mandy.” His daughter’s name rhymed with my mother’s name.
“Oh, yes. I will. I promise,” I genuinely said and meant it.
“Cross your heart and hope to die, then.”
“I will cross my heart...and hope.” I paused and then said, “But I can’t say the die part.” I bit my lip. I really wanted the puppy but not enough to die for. I peered at him, hopeful.
“Okay, I guess you don’t have to say it. But, if you want her, you will have to get into my car so that she doesn’t run into the street.” His smile disappeared into a straight line as he said the words. “Of course, I can ask another little girl if you don’t want her.” He frowned and drove the car a foot ahead of me. He was going to leave.
“No. I do! I really do,” I said with strong conviction.
I rocked my feet on the edge of the curb, feeling a bit nervous about getting in his car. But, I wanted this puppy more than anything. So I did my best to push the fear aside.
My heels slid off the curb and into the street, standing on my tiptoes, raising my eyes over the rim of the half-rolled down window; inside I could see, so clearly, the puppy wagging her tail, filled with the same excitement I’d felt.
The seat she jumped on was covered in blue vinyl, smeared with inky-red stains and holes that expelled dirty yellow padding. Pew...the smell of old car stench, stale fast food, the exhaust fumes, and cigarettes drifted into my nose, disgusting.
My hand was on the handle of the door, and I could feel my heart pounding rapidly. I was only seconds away from owning a new little puppy.
In a fissure of my mind, I heard Storm rambling on about something. Pure babble if you asked me. He usually did this when I was having fun with someone other than him. So, I did what I normally would do when he carried on as such; I ignored him. I figured that Storm was jealous and had suddenly changed his mind about blessing me with the new puppy.
I also figured Storm probably recognized that the puppy would steal my attention away from his invisible presence. It wasn’t as if I could hug Storm as I could the sweet puppy. The puppy was tangible, and Storm was just a voice. Yep, if I could have seen Storm, I was sure he was a green-eyed monster. Until I had the pup in my lap, tuning him out was the only solution I could think of.
I pulled back on the rusty old door handle. When the car door swung open, the man leaped across the seat at me, nearly grazing my arm. I froze at the sight of him, but something, a powerful force, yanked me backwards. Upon closer glance, my eyes widened, the man in the car was stark naked.
Storm’s voice broke through the barriers of my mind, and he charged into my head like a raging bull, his target—me—the red blanket waving in the wind. Yikes! Storm’s voice swallowed me whole. He had never shown such anger before. Of course, he was not angry with me but, instead, at the situation. I could almost imagine his nostrils flaring with horns on the top of his head, as he roared.
Arghhh, get the hell away from the car, Brielle. Run, run away... fast, played like a broken record in my mind.
His voice beat against the walls of my brain. Run, Brielle, run! Scream at the top of your lungs and run away as fast as you can!
Without hesitation, I jumped into the air and ran as fast as I could. I was moving so quickly that it actually felt as if my feet left the ground. It was almost as if I flew back to my parents. Tears were streaming down my face. I cried for so many reasons, but mostly, because I was empty handed—I wanted that puppy.
My father heard my screams, and raced towards me. He swept me off my feet into his arms, holding me so tightly that I could hardly breathe. The man in the car quickly sped away. As he had vanished, so did my chances to own a puppy.
Storm really scared the shit out of me, almost as much as the naked man did. Storm sometimes had such a potty mouth, and he tended to use curse words when I wouldn’t listen to him. I was certain the use of the hell word was inappropriate language for an angel. If he kept this up, he would never get his wings.
My parents immediately called the police. They came to the park and asked me all sort of questions. Still in shock, I could not answer their questions. It was almost like my mind went blank. Storm tried to cue me on what to say, but I was frozen. The police followed us home, they felt like I may remember things if they took me away from the scene of the crime, safe at home, where I’d be more comfortable.
“Brielle, the two nice police officers are still downstairs wondering if you could try again to answer some of their questions now?” My mother’s words were strained, and her fingers knotted together, nervously. “Can you come down with me?” She reached out her hand to me, and I slipped my hand into hers. There was an odd silence in our house that afternoon.
“Hello, sweetie, can you remember anything that happened at the park? What did the man in the car look like? Did he have dark hair or light hair?” the female police officer asked me.
My eyes scanned around the room. Suddenly, all of the details from earlier in the day came rushing back to me.
“He was really ugly and had big yellow teeth like a wolf and squinty black eyes. His hair was all messy, really dark black and, well...” I paused.
“What was he wearing?” the female officered asked.
I hemmed and hawed because I was embarrassed to tell them what he was wearing. “Ah, a black t-shirt, I think. But his body looked like Jesus, kind of.” I sucked in my bottom lip. “You know, like when he was naked on the cross, like that.” I pointed at two bookends in our bookcase. “He had no pants on, it was really gross.”
The officers’ eyes darted to the figurines—replicas of Jesus on the cross. Their faces filled with hidden anger. Dad put me on his lap and held me tightly and my mom paced the room. She always did this when she was upset. My parents were very protective of me, except of course, when Brett was stealing all of their attention, which might explain part of why this happened.
At the time, I didn’t recognize the magnitude of what could have happened to me. Instinctually, I knew it wasn’t good.
The female police officer consoled me. She spoke to me as if I was a toddler, in very juvenile terms, not recognizing how precocious I was for my age. I was seven not three. She told me that the man in the car was a ‘very, very naughty man,’ and that they needed to find him because he had done bad things to other little girls. I told them everything I could remember about the man, including his black mustache and pale skin and deep-set eyes and about the cross that was painted on his arm. I learned that day the sign of a cross was not always a good sign.
“Thank you so much, Brielle. You were very helpful.” The female officer pulled a cherry lollipop from her pocket and handed it to me. My eyes flashed up to my mother.
I regretfully sighed, “Sorry. I am not allowed to take candy from strangers.”
All the way home from the park, my parents scolded and lectured me about never accepting anything, absolutely nothing from a stranger, ever again. In my eyes, even the police lady was a stranger.
My mother reassuringly said, “It’s okay, Brielle. You can have the candy this one time.” Dang, adults can be so confusing at times.
The following day, the two police officers returned to our house. My mother instructed me to go to my bedroom, but instead, I hid in the shadows of the stairwell so I could hear what they were saying. I peeked around the corner and noticed one of the officers was holding the same little puppy that I had seen in the bad man’s car. My heart skipped a beat.
The policewoman smiled as the puppy licked her face. The male officer said that terrible man was in their custody. I wasn’t sure what the word custody meant; however, I could tell from their faces it was good news.
Apparently, the police had found the wolf-looking man several hours later. After he left the park, he crashed his car somewhere on the North Shore of the island into a big oak tree that was, ironically, in the middle of an open field. The man broke both of his legs rendering him paralyzed for life.
That’s what he gets for being mean to little girls, I thought.
Both officers and my parents agreed that the odds of the man’s car crashing into the tree in the middle of an open field were virtually impossible. To them it made no sense. They called it a freak accident. However, it made perfect sense to me; I knew the angels caused the accident. It was an act of revenge. They were the ones who put a stop to this man so that he couldn’t hurt little girls anymore. Paybacks sucked for him. Fortunately, the puppy was not hurt.
