Transmogrification 360°: The Thief Comes

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TRANSMOGRIFICATION 360° AN IRISH M ᴄCARRIE NOVEL

THE THIEF COMES

MI RA CLE

MMUOK EBE

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THE THIEF COMES First Edition © 2016 Miracle Mmuokebe. Cover design by Miracle Mmuokebe. Scripture quotations are from the New International Version of the Bible. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. All characters and events depicted in this novel are fictitious, solely products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events and persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

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“Here is joy that cannot be shaken. Our light can swallow up your darkness: but your darkness cannot now infect our light.” C. S. Lewis. The Great Divorce.

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DEDICATION For Destiny, may God perfect all that concerns you by His great power at work in you.

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John 10:10 “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.” Proverbs 12:28 “In the way of righteousness there is life: along that path is immortality.” 2 Corinthians 5:17 “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” John 6:63 “The Spirit gives life the flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and they are life.” Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 1:3 “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.” Revelations 19:10 “At this I fell at his feet to worship him. But he said to me, “Do not do it! I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God! For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.”

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CONTENT STOLEN HOPELESS HELPED ALL THINGS HIDDEN ALL THINGS NEW SUMMER ETERNAL

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CHAPTER ONE

STOLEN John 10: 10 “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

“You hate the hateness,” the voice hissed. “I hate the hateness.” I repeated. “The hateness killed your father.” “The hateness killed my father.” “Hey nutcracker!” a kid across the street yelled. “When can I borrow your brains for an experiment…well what’s left of it. When do I finally get a turn at it… huh?” On a regular day, I'd tear across the street and beat him to death. As near it as I could get. That's not near enough if you asked me. Except for when he ran faster—fast enough to lock himself up in his home. I hugged my iPhone and turned up the volume. It was my birthday after all. I thought I'd try something different...peaceful. Maybe even turn a new leaf. Something sailed into my face—fouled up smoothie in a plastic cup. It sloshed out all over my iPhone. Fine, so it wasn't new but it was all I'd had for Christmas in four years. This could be a regular day after all. That's all I remember thinking. Before the next second, I was all over the meatball. He was red enough from yelling at me. By the time his mom and sisters pulled me off, he was a lump of tomato sauce. Meatball's mom held on to my wrist with a grip that could wrench a tornado out of the sky. She rattled me empty like a can. “I don't ever want to see you near my son again, ever! Now I'm warning you, you no good druggie, next time I'll call the police!” “Why don't you call the police when he bullies me or throws things at me?” She rattled me over to my end of the sidewalk. “Matt does no such thing. You're so high on that rut your father sells, you don't even know what bullying is! Bullying, sir, is what you do to my son, every other day. It's a wonder I haven't shot at you myself.” “He's not my father, he's my stepfather!”

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“I don't care if he's your step uncle! You live with him. And you'll turn out to be just like him!" On a street like 31st and Harper, where lawns stayed green, trim and cute, everybody knew everybody’s business. My stepfather’s drug selling was an open secret. Still, it didn’t make it any easier to accept as an insult. “Well then I'll just keep pummeling the meatball.” She gasped. As I expected. “And someday all you'll find are scraps of his pretty blond hair.” Meatball's mom snuck a quick glance at the driveway. She made sure my mom wasn't home. Sure enough, she wasn't. My stepfather was. He'd bother more over a rundown dog than having the meatball’s mom dash my brain against a tree. Everyone knew that. Meatball's mom leaned in, eyeball to eyeball. I could see her veins pulsing with anger. “Just keep off you psycho!” Wow! Her breath actually smelled like meatball. I was going to tell her so before she hurriedly stalked away. I aimed to spit at her. Then I thought how great it would be if she was my mom. I'm not half the brat the meatball is and my mom hates me anyway. I bet my right fingers she won't remember my birthday. Bet no one in our lair remembered. The hateness’s lair. That's where I live. My stepfather runs the show like a concentration camp. It's the only place he can feel important but in reality, he’s not. The recording slithered on. “She makes life so miserable.” The recording is my daily devotional. A faithful chronicle of my life's sad facts. I put in all my piety in repeating. “She makes life so miserable.” Through the fancy steel gates, I could see the gardener. He pretended to bend over some imaginary obstacle in the grass. It was nice of him to mind his own business. It made it easier to pretend I didn't see him. Moving through the house to my room, I locked my door and finished my daily confession. “She’s the worst thing that ever happened to a Nott.” “I wouldn't give a hoot if she died.” “She’s more valuable dead than alive.” “I will forever hate her.” “I can forever hate her.” “I must forever hate her, world without end.”

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“And I'll always remember…she hated me first.” Fingers rasped against my door. “Your name, job and purpose,” I demanded. A calm voice replied. “Raphaella Tidely, your housekeeper. I brought you lunch.” I unlocked the door to let Raphi into the room. In blew the blast with all the lacey confetti and a dozen tiny balloons. “Happy birthday Seagan!” Someone did remember—the very last person who should. It was a small cake. Almost tiny, with a dainty little candle. Life sure would have been different if Raphi were my mom. She set the tray down on the study table where Philippé banished me for all my meals. “Don't you like it?” Like it? I couldn't help but like it. It’s all I’m getting for a birthday. Still, I'm not about to get all slobbery and grateful on my housekeeper. “It will do.” Good old Raphi her face lit up with that impeccable smile. It gave me this incredibly warm chill. It crept up my neck every single time. Made me feel she could read my mind. “Okay Seagan, blow out the candle and make your wish.” “There's no use Raphi. Can't you see the rut we’re stuck in? Wait…I’m the one who's stuck in it. You can leave whenever you're good and ready.” Raphi cocked her head and clicked her tongue. “With an attitude like that you'll be stuck here forever, Seagan.” “That stupid little candle isn't going to change my life forever.” Raphi dumped herself on the table and cut herself a piece of cake. “You’re right. It won't change anything, will it? But this is delicious. Want a bite?” I glared at her. “That’s my birthday cake Raphi, how dare you? I didn't even blow out the candle yet.” The tiny flame flicked beneath her nose. The room suddenly didn't look half as depressed as I felt. “I thought you didn't care. Oh, this is so delicious. I can't believe I baked it.” She smiled that weird smile. “It’s not too late. The flame’s still burning.” I hurried over and snatched the fork out of her hands. “I wish I could have a new life. One where even the worst people aren't half as crazy as you are.” Raphi didn't get mad. Instead, she leaned over and helped me blow out the flame. I bet she can read minds. She held out another slice. “Go on, take a bite.” I did. Boy was it good. My, it was good—too good to be Raphi’s cake. Now any nice kid would be saying 'thank you' right about now. I'm not nice. I haven't

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had any use for being nice in a long time. I used to be nice–untill I met a certain Philippé. She stared at me. Like a panther watching a stray monkey. “You beat the meatball again?” I tried distraction. “Did you really bake this?” “I heard you arguing with his mom—again.” I threw my fork down. “Well he started it. He always starts it, foolish kid!” Leaning in, Raphi cupped her face in her hands. “And you always finish it. That makes you both fools don't you think?” I let the clock do it’s ticking. She still had that look on. I knew that look. She wanted to talk—again. Raphi doesn't hurt. She'll say her prayers. Then she'll be gone. She doesn't hate me or think I’m crazy. She’s the only one in the Nott residence—or anywhere else in the world—who doesn't think I’m crazy. The Nott Residence, I like how that sounds. It’s still my house. Philippé once suggested changing the plaque to read ‘The Pursniketti Residence’. I set his towel on fire while he showered. We had ourselves an understanding. Raphi sat staring at me. “Say what’s on your mind and be gone.” “Why did you tell her you hate her?” “I’m not going to that wilderness school. That’s final!” “She doesn't drive in the rain. But when she drove to work today the clouds were in her eyes.” “So?” “There weren't any wipers on her face the last time I checked Seagan.” “It’s all the way in Australia. And it’s not just in the outback…it’s in a desert. Not only is it a boarding school, it’s in the wild! How could it possibly get any worse? I can't imagine anything worse than that!” “She doesn't know what else to do with you Seagan! You make her feel so miserable. And she's your mother what else could you expect? She's worried. I'm worried.” “She worries? Whenever she happens to come across my face in the hall or driveway, that’s when she worries. Else, she doesn't care. I can take care of myself, Raphi. I always have and I always will. I don't need anyone to do anything for me. I’m fine just the way I am!” “She’s not fine with you the way you are. You make her feel guilty and miserable every single day. Did you really have to recite your hateness confessions in front of her?”

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“Does she have to be around when I recite them? I recite them every day. Everyone who knows anything knows that.” “You make her feel like trash and then turn around to whine about a wilderness boarding school?” “If she feels that bad, she could always leave. I couldn't care where. She could move into her precious law firm or try the desert for herself. For crying out loud Raphi, it’s not just a boarding school. It’s in the wild, in a desert, in the Australian outback! What else could you possibly expect me to do, Raphi?” “Tell her what she needs to know, Seagan. Tell her the truth.” “She doesn't need me to tell her the truth. She knows the truth. She sees it every day. She turns a blind eye. Do you know why? Because she doesn’t care that’s why.” “Seagan, how could you? She's your mother.” “That's why I dare. It's her job to know these things anyway. I shouldn't have to tell it to her. She should have seen it coming!” Raphi raised a hand to her forehead. She looked slapped. She certainly didn't see that coming. Arguing wouldn't do either of us any bit of good. That, Raphi knew from experience. “Well maybe if you apologized she could convince Phil not to ship you off.” “This is my house. It’s my father’s house. Philippé ought to beg to stay here.” I opened the door and stood beside it. I'd over welcomed her stay. “You promised me you’d never tell her you hate her again.” “You promised I wouldn't dream of the morning she killed my dad.” “It’s been seven years Seagan!” “Tell that to his grave,” I stood by the open door. “You've definitely said more than your piece.” Rising, Raphi made for the door but not before passing her verdict. “Philippé won't let you last another summer around here with that attitude. Happy birthday.” I stared at Raphi’s retreating figure. Some nerve she must have. To think anyone could drive me out of my house. A rocket-in-motion caught my attention. It was Philippé. His pant legs swayed and his jacket looked like he’d worn it upside down. He looked like Mr. Fancy pants at Armageddon.

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Paleness hugged every inch of him like a celebrity tan. His usual 'broken arrow' shaped frown spread out across his face. What’s on his forehead, sweat? Something’s definitely very wrong. Still, in my newfound freedom and the confidence of having Raphi around, I waited until he was face to face with the doorpost before slamming the door in his face. Philippé howled like a wounded wolf at full moon. I crumpled contently on my bed with a lean smile and waited for him to stop. He roared when he did. He pumped his fists at the door like nuclear bombs, “Open that door you little curly haired demon!” Little? Why does the dog-devil, he-devil, devil’s devil keep forgetting my birthday? Could someone please remind the clown I’m thirteen? “Open up red headed devil’s brat!” “Name, job, and the reason you’re bothering me,” I called back. Philippé counted to ten. I chuckled. His great heaving gasps for air sounded just like a bull ramming its horns into a mountaintop. Take the mountain to be Everest. “Philippé Pursniketti, your stepfather…I thought you should know… your hateness spell is working.” My ears pricked, well a little. “I got a call from Everett’s she’s in their emergency ward…car accident…it’s critical.” Space gave way between us. I could hear Philippé’s heartbeats pounding loud and clear against his massive ribcage. The door did not exist. It filled the silence for us. Vibrating against my eardrums…or was that my own heart now? I heard the humdrum pounding of Philippé’s feet pacing in front of my door. I saw his shadow slipping under the door at odd corners. Philippé expected me to say something. I haven't found myself speechless in quite a while. The last time I fell speechless, I’d peeked through the folds of the hateness’s gown to sneak a peek at the metal warped corpse I once called father. The doorframe thundered under the weight of Philippé’s final punch, “Damned devil!” The windowpanes creaked when the front door slammed shut. I half expected the door to fall in, knockout style. It stood. Tires screeched on cement in the driveway. It was half protest and half fury.

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I grabbed my headset and listened to all the reasons I hated the hateness. It wasn't working. I simply could, would–not repeat them. They didn't make much sense anymore. They blared through my headset quite all right. The hateness killed my father. She’s more valuable dead than alive. I will forever hate her. I can forever hate her. I must forever hate her, world without end. I'll always remember…she hated me first. I just couldn't. Simply wouldn't…repeat them. Only a silent echo responded in the opposite end of my heart…like ripples in a pond. Until I glanced up in front of the bathroom mirror, I didn't realize I’d paced about the room. I did not, could not, see myself. I saw the hateness instead and then the shadow of metal barbed flesh. Throwing the headset aside, I wiggled into my sneakers. Quick movements rushed past the door, making my heart catch in my throat. The figure was leaning against the wall. It had one hand on the wall, the other hand on its hip. It was Raphi, in boots and a leather jacket. Her soft brown hair messed around in a tight bun. “You’re not that much of a devil, are you? It only took you all of sixty seconds.” “Know where I can get someone to drive me to hospital?” Raphi tossed me a motorcycle helmet. She strapped on a helmet of her own. “I am the driver.” Whizzing through 31st and Harper Street on Raphi's Harley-Davidson, the neighborhood failed to depress me. For the first time in seven years, I wasn't thinking of myself. Feeling sorry for myself, thinking about how everyone else was better off, or wishing for another mom. I guess being self-centered and being depressed are like coffee and cream. Well it's that or because the hateness lay all alone on a hospital bed. Probably…and…well the rest just gave me the bone frost. Philippé said it was critical. That meant death, right? That death was likely, wasn’t it? Well, hating the hateness was the only thing I'd ever been sure of. The lone constant in my nonexistent future. I wasn't sure I wanted her dead. Even now with Raphi’s Super Glide turning in to Everett’s hospital, I almost doubted truly hating her. She murdered my father!

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No, I did not doubt my reasons for hating the hateness. I just didn't want her dead, either. She was my only protection when Philippé used to beat me with heated iron hangers. Weak protection she was. I can't believe she still let him gag me. Raphi’s arrival rescued me. She threatened to call the police on Philippé. I'll never forget the wild-eyed scared rabbit look on his face that night. The hateness has to live. I have no one else to hate. Except Philippé—and even I know he’s not worth it. She is my only hobby. She must live. I need to hate her. I hopped off as soon as Raphi parked the Super Glide. I handed her the helmet and walked off. “Oh, you’re welcome Seagan!” Raphi called after me. With every step towards the hospital, my heart beat slower and heavier. Every breath dripped dread. My feet were the center of gravity and by the time I got to the reception, Raphi was there too. It was terrible when I finally saw her. Worse than I imagined. The room reeked of spirits and boiled flesh. I didn't dare take another step forward. Still unconscious, that’s what the doctor told Philippé. I was glad for her. If she saw herself like that, she might not want to live. I certainly wouldn't. A crazed flood of blood and bile rushed into my throat, making me choke for air. That’s when the doctor first noticed us. “Only closest relatives are allowed in at this point, two at a time,” the doctor announced. “It’s okay,” Raphi explained. “She’s…she’s his mother.” The doctor looked to Philippé for confirmation. Philippé nodded. “And you?” the doctor asked turning back to Raphi. Raphi shook her head. “Then I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.” My shoulders warmed under the soft pressure of Raphi’s hands just before she left. “I have your father’s permission to carry out an operation immediately.” I didn't look up when the doctor continued describing the hateness’s injuries, when Philippé cleared his throat and when the stretcher rolled in to take the hateness to the operating table. I never took my eyes off her stretcher, until I could see her no more. When the doctor left, Philippé followed. He bumped his shoulder against the door in his hurry to get away from me.

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Raphi was waiting by her Harley. “How bad?” “As bad as dad’s.” A teardrop escaped through my eyelids and ran down my cheek. I raked my hands through my hair. The tear—it was shocking. I’d never planned to cry, especially not in front of Raphi. That one description forced me to understand. I was about to become motherless, too. “Stick around?” “No.” “I'll buy you lunch.” “No.” “Where then?” “Home.” “If she wakes up while we’re gone, if she…if she. Well you know—” “If she dies?” Raphi nodded. “I think she'll be happy I didn't see her die that way.” Raphi’s helmet tumbled from her hands and hit the tarmac with a deafening thud. “Don't look so shocked. I wouldn't want anyone watching me die if I died that way either. I’d want you to remember me as I am. Not, not what we saw in there. That wasn't Mrs. Nott.” The sprinklers were on, the air conditioning hummed. Everything still looked normal when we got home a few minutes later. Grief’s great metal claw squeezed my heart until I could manage one sickly breath after the other. I just made it to a sofa in the living room. Raphi got me a glass of water. “Take it easy, she’s not dead.” I swallowed a gulp of water. “Yet.” “She's not going to die Seagan.” I sat up. “And how do you know that? Uh, let me guess. You prayed right?” “Yes Seagan, I prayed and I have a witness in my heart.” “While you're at it, why don't you ask your witness to raise my dad from the grave? He's only been dead seven years.” Raphi retreated to the kitchen humming. Three hours later the air conditioning didn't hum and the hateness wasn't watching TV and Raphi wasn't making dinner and Philippé wasn't working out in the gym. He hadn't called either and I was getting too worried to sit still. I kept putting off a trip to the hospital.

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“I could go check,” Raphi offered. “No that'll be worse than hearing it from Philippé. You'll make it so emotional.” The phone rang. I took the call on loudspeaker, “Nott residence.” “Hi Seagan, is your mom in? It’s Mrs. Townsend. She’s supposed to be a speaker for our cancer awareness benefit and I haven't seen her all evening. She’s not the tardy type.” I looked across at Raphi. She shrugged. Not knowing if the hateness would survive was painful enough. Explaining that to someone else, that—was unbearable. “Hello, anyone there?” Raphi pulled the phone’s cord out of the wall. That ended the conversation. My hands gripped my knees but I could still feel them shaking. “I want to go. Take me back to the hospital.” Raphi must have seen it too. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” At the hospital, we found Philippé in the waiting room. Raphi and I sat next to him. Together we stared at the floor. Until the doctor came by. She was smiling. A good sign, I hoped. “Mr. Pursniketti,” said the doctor. I saw stars, I think. The more I looked the less I saw, except for the cloudy darkness. I could still hear the doctor but only faintly. Then I saw stars again. Blinking off and on like a shaky bulb. “We took care…all the ruptured veins…the bleeding stopped but…damage is irreparable…still not conscious—is your son alright?” “Seagan!” I faded into Raphi’s outstretched arms. *** Irish McCarrie looked up from her desk to find Dina her assistant smiling down at her. “What now?” “I should do the asking.” Dina slid into a seat. “What was all that Spirit talk about just now?” “Intercession. The Lord is bringing us a young boy for mentorship.” Dina grinned. “Now isn't that your favorite assignment? When is he going to get here?”

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“I don't know, this one's not like Persis,” Irish chanced a glance at her assistant. “That's why I interceded. He’s not even saved yet.” “Why Ms. McCarrie, I certainly object! I will not be a party to another find and fix operation of yours. At least I haven't forgotten how the last one turned out.” “No one's forgotten, Ms. Shirraf. Your objections are noted. Let me remind you that this is an assignment from Above. Not one of my uh…'Find and fix operations' as you call it. And to prove it, he'll be the one to come knocking right at our door.” Dina stood and unruffled the full folds of her skirt. “If you insist Ms. McCarrie.” Irish smiled, she could hear Dina whisper to herself as she retreated from the office. “Unsaved boys knocking at the door? And soon she'll have us ascending in chariots of fire… straight in front of a burning bush.” *** When the dark clouds cleared, I found myself on a hospital bed with Raphi peering over me. “Seagan are you okay?” Of course, I wasn't okay. I blinked and groaned. “The light’s too bright. Close the shutters.” I relaxed when the shade fell. “I can't remember a thing, why am I here?” “You blacked out.” “No I didn't. I just couldn't see all of a sudden.” Raphi rolled her sleeves and took in a slow breath. “And that's another way of saying–you blacked out.” “I did not black out.” “Oh? Then how did you get here?” I could not answer that question. I got off the bed. She struck out an arm to resist me. “Where are you going?” “Home. Did the doctor prescribe anything?” “Bed rest.” “My bed is at home.” “Don't you need a ride?” “If you'll offer.” “I just did, stiff neck.”

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When we got home, the lights were on in the hateness’s study. I opened the door to turn the lights off and found Philippé pale faced, dust smudged and hands deep in the grand old safe. It mostly held things from the old days before my dad’s accident. I also knew my birth certificate and the papers for the house were in there, too. So what exactly did Philippé want? “Any problem Philippé?” “No, no,” stammered Philippé. “I uh…uh I’m just making sure things are in order for the house, you know. In cases like these, you never know what could happen.” I switched off the lights and locked him in the study. “You never do,” I agreed. “Let me out you demon child!” Philippé screamed and howled until morning, when Lorenso the butler came on duty. Raphi pretended to be asleep all night long. What a sweetheart. I didn't go to school that day, I couldn't. It was the last day before the summer vacation anyway. No one would notice. The teachers I mean. No one’s ever cared about me. I've never had a friend. I've never needed one. Raphi? She’s my crime partner. The closest thing I've ever had to a friend since dad. Dad—my friend. Then he died. I haven’t had any other since then. They might die too. Then I'll go crazy all over again. That’s why friends are not worth having. They die. By mid-afternoon Raphi was at my door, helmet in hand. That was all the invitation I needed. The doctor checked on the hateness while we were there, reading her vitals like a death sentence. Philippé cried. He must have learnt that bit in his Hollywood drama class. Don Juan would be a lame guy without tears. My English teacher said so herself. There was no hope. Weeks condensed into months and still there was no hope. As the last of summer vaporized, I learnt some new words. Words like “vegetative state,” “life support,” “extensive irreversible brain damage,” and “euthanasia.” That last one means Philippé might let the doctors kill her. The hateness, I mean. Every other day I sat at her bedside. Hoping she’d wag a finger or frown at me. Do anything that would show she was getting better. Instead, I left more convinced. She was dying. I could but watch. My own reflection haunted me from the ever-shiny hospital room.

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My hair reminded me of tumbleweeds in a desert. My face looked as dry as shed snakeskin. Even thought there was a bit of mighty dried gum on my face. Then it turned out to be my lips when I touched it. I realized. I was dying with her. I might as well. I guess I was next on Philippé’s hit list anyway. Every day convinced me more—Philippé did this. Philippé planned everything. He did all of this. He did this to my daddy. He did this to the hateness. Someday, he’s going to try it on me too. It’s only a matter of time. I told Raphi so. She said I was crazy. Surface up in her brilliant grey eyes I saw she’d always known, always been afraid that I’d find out. I also knew within me that I’d always known, too. I wouldn’t let the hateness off the hook so easy though. For all I knew they’d been partners. In it together, till Philippé got smarter. I needed to know for sure. Raphi’s always been the best thing ever to happen to a nutty boy like me. “You want to get the car back and have our own private investigation?” Raphi’s head jerked out of the oven. “That’s what the police are for Seagan. I’m an ordinary housekeeper. I’m no thief.” “You didn't think so when we stole that box of Danish cookies from Philippé’s study.” “That’s different. This is stealing from the law. Real stealing, the police are supposed to be investigating or something.” “They already did. The police reporter said the cause of the accident was unknown. I read it in the daily.” “Uh,” Raphi sighed. She slammed shut the oven. “You’re a tough one Seagan.” “Are you helping me or not?” “Give me three days.” Luck made Philippé go on a trip the third day. Something about insurance and lawyers, and legal documents and stuff like that. Thick dark fluff thickened the night. As Raphi and I set out, not a sliver of moon lightened our errand. Our destination was a car dump outside city limits. Raphi said the owner was a friend of hers. Raphi knows so many people. I sometimes think she’s with the CIA.

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Philippé is my first suspect of choice for anything bad that goes on in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Guilty until otherwise proven, and that’s something worth CIA attention. “Is that the kid who’s got you into all this?” That was the first thing out the mouth of Raphi’s friend, Yelena. “Did you find anything worth my while?” I asked. “That’s quite a mouth you got there.” “Quite a job you got too.” Turning to Raphi I added, “I thought she would be a ‘professional’. This is serious.” “She is a professional, aren't you Yelena?” Yelena took one ugly lopsided look at me. She sneered and wiped her nose with the back of her hands. It left a greasy dark mustache under her nose. “Your car didn't have any stoppers when it smashed into that tree.” She was talking to Raphi. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, the simulation made the most sense. Then, I took a step further.” She paused to glance at me. “I went to the gas station near the spot where it happened. The guy was a doodle-head, I paid him off and he got me the security tape. Turned out exactly the way I imagined it.” “Why didn't the police find that out?” I asked. Yelena sneered at me. Raphi took it up. “Why couldn't the cops get that Yel?” “The cops aren't automobile specialists. The brakes are in the car but they’re not of the car. They've got to malfunction someday.” “You’re saying someone switched the original brakes with counterfeit ones that don't match?” I asked. “Exactly,” said Yelena. “And the police couldn't tell because?” “Because they look alike kid, but no way are they the same thing. It takes a specialist to know and that’s what Yelena the ‘professional’ is.” “That sort of thing isn't quick work,” Raphi said to me. “Philippé couldn't have done it himself,” I agreed. Turning to Yelena I asked. “Do you know people who do jobs like that?”

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“Who wouldn’t do a job like that?” Yelena sniggered. “Don’t stare at me. We’ve all got utility bills, mortgage and credit bills to pay. That’s all the reason a fellow needs.” “Could you prove anything with what you've got?” “That depends.” Yelena answered. “On what?” Raphi asked. “If you've got believers or doubters in the jury.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “You said you could tell the difference between the fake and the real brakes.” “Show and tell aren't the same thing, kid.” said Yelena. “Most auto specialists won't like to admit the fake stuff exists. Especially not in front of a jury, because they’re in on the profits. Besides, and most importantly there’s nothing obviously wrong with the fake stuff. It'll look and act normal for a time but it’s just bound to fail. It’s like Russian roulette you never know when you'll hit the bull’seye.” “So proving its fake isn't exactly proof that it malfunctioned?” I said. “Exactly,” Yelena said. “Thanks, Yelena the ‘professional’,” I said. “You’re pretty good.” Yelena nodded. I turned to Raphi, “Can we go now?” “Thanks Yel,” said Raphi. “Any day Raph, I still owe you one, you know.” Just before we left the garage, Yelena called out, “Hey, kid with the smartmouth!” I turned to her hulky spanner-wielding figure. “You’re best bet would be a taped confession if you really want to nail that guy.” “Thanks,” I said. “And watch your back!” We got home to find the front door locked from inside. We still had things under control. I locked my room and as did Raphi, but we left our windows open. We could slip in and pretend to have been home all evening. That’s how we got in after Raphi put the Harley away. I was putting away my sneakers when a dark hulk of a shadow crept out of my bathroom—it wasn't Philippé.

23

A second shadow stepped out of the bathroom. It was Philippé. To hide my fear, I bent and made a show of taking off my socks. “What do you want?” “How about ‘welcome’, ‘When did you get back?’ ‘How was your trip?’ You know, the things families do.” “You’re not family.” “That’s exactly how I feel about you. That’s why I’m here. My lawyers say I have the right to authorize euthanasia. Since, as you know, your mother’s parents are dead and so are her ex-husband and everyone else who could have stopped me. I am her authorized next of kin.” “You can't kill her.” “I can't,” Philippé agreed. “But the doctors can. They'll finish what I've started. Everything will work out as I planned. All things being legal.” Blood rushed into the veins in my head. The pounding of my eardrums. It beat like a war song. I sprang on him and we dived to the floor. I punched and hit. I’d been practicing with my Mohammed Ali videos. Certainly, there's a reason why adults are adults. One twist from the incredible hulk and I heard my shoulders snap like twigs. It was enough to make me pass out. I was seeing those stars again, the ones that blinked like bulbs. I groped against the wall. I didn't want to die. I couldn’t leave my father’s house to this Philippé demon. I could smell death. It was all around me. The smell of burnt metal, the dark hulk and of my own sweaty flesh. Then I saw it, a heated metal hanger lying across my desk. Break into a run. That was my first impulse. Then I remembered the wild, an animal is only as strong or weak as it looks. “I have evidence and a witness, she'll testify against you, Philippé. You'll go to jail.” His phone beeped, illuminating his ugly grin. “You mean this dead lady?” Philippé flashed his phone in my face. I saw the badly beaten bruised and bloodied face of Yelena, the ‘professional,’ the auto specialist. He’d been on to us. Philippé had been on to us all along. The bile in my belly churned with the thought that Raphi might be in with him too. Where was she anyway? Philippé made a call. “I saw the pictures. Well done, come over to the house.” Philippé glanced at the heated iron. “While we wait, I’m going to remind you of the good old days before your little friend Raphi arrived. She should also be dead now, by the way.” He seated himself on my bed. “But before that, read this.” I dug my nails into the wall. “What is it?”

24

Philippe crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it at my feet. “It’s the statement I’ll give the police on this here little accident. If you turn over, I have cute little obituaries for you and your mom and Raphi.” I didn’t care to read the freaking papers or break my defensive posture against the wall. I didn’t plan to die. “Won’t you read it Seagan? Well then, I’m going to tell you how you'll die and what I'll write in your obit.” He said. “Well, it goes like this. You'll get mad because your mom’s never going to wake up. Then you'll hit me on the head with that rifle your dad left in the garage.” He pointed to a purple shiner at his temples. “See, then you'll put the gas on and set the house on fire. But,” he added. “I'll get out just before the big bang. Do you like that? I’ve always liked the big bang theory. See how accidental and unplanned it all sounds?” There was some wood from a broken footstool beside my sprained shoulder. If I tried to grab it with my good hand, Philippé would get a chance to duck. “And you think anyone’s going to believe that pathetic story?” Philippé spread his hands and shrugged. “Why won’t they? They've all heard your crazy hateness confessions. Everyone knows your nuts, Seagan Nott.” He laughed at his own joke. “Get it? Nott is nuts?” I grabbed a broken chunk off the footstool but it barely made it midair before dropping out of my hand. I could only clench my teeth tight enough to stifle a painful howl. “Not giving up yet? Accept your fate son.” Son? Now he calls me son. While trying to kill me. Standing, he bent over my desk to put on a thick pair of flame retardant gloves. I hadn't seen those in a while. Not since the day Raphi came. Philippé drew closer to me with calm relaxed steps. “By the way son, you could have avoided all of this if you’d been a good little boy and died with your mommy. But no, you have to hate her so much you’d rather walk to school than have her drop you off. Now look what you got yourself into. Hers was fast. You know ‘bam!’ and she’s dead. Yours…” Glancing at the heated metal, he clicked his tongue. “…will be slow.” I tried to stay strong in my mind. My body shook, my lips quivered and tears streaked down my face.

25

First with slow gentle stripes, then with quick rough ones, Philippé refreshed my memory of agonies past. I cried. I wept. I whimpered. I did not scream and of that, I am proud. Philippé was on the eleventh stripe when the door exploded and rocked the hulk to the floor. The vibrations brought me to my knees. The hulk remained unconscious on the ground. Philippé also lay sprawled across the floor. Raphi stepped in still wearing her helmet. She had black lines etched across her face. “Seriously Philippé you must not have read my CV. They kicked me out of naval academy for beating up my superiors and I've been to jail five times. Next time you want to get rid of me, don't hire amateurs.” Philippé was on his knees cursing and wiping blood from his lips, “Knew I shouldn't have hired sissies to do a man’s job.” “There are others,” I said. “We have to get out of here. They've killed Yelena!” Raphi picked the chunk of wood and hit Philippé hard across his back. With a yelp, he sprawled out on the ground, unconscious. Raphi cupped my face in her hands. Think ice cubes on hot metal blade– that's exactly what it felt like. I whimpered. “You look awful.” “I know.” I replied. “We have to leave right now! Else we’re going to die I was supposed to be in the car with mom when the accident happened. He’d always planned to kill us all.” “Wait for me at the front door,” said Raphi. “I need to grab something.” My face was on fire and my shoulder grilled like molten lava. Surely, Raphi could see that. “Something more important than life?” “Trust me Seagan.” I staggered to the front door on barefoot. I used my good hand as balance against the wall. The furniture had deep cuts and broken vases littered the floor. Raphi must have struggled quite a bit with the sissies. Leaning against the front door, I waited. Every second felt like eternity in agony years. I finally decided to get some aspirin from the kitchen cabinet. Debris puckered the kitchen surface. I had the aspirin down and one tablet on my tongue when the door lashed out and two incredible hulks came in. “Where’s the boss?” “What boss?” I asked.

26

I knew he wanted Philippé. I just thought it wiser to play dumb. The hulks took one sweeping look at the debris all around me and turned their glowing red bulbs back at me. Grabbing me by the neck, he repeated his question slowly, “Where is the boss?” “I don't know.” It was all I could manage to say anyway. I was choking. “Who did this?” “Not me.” “Put him down!” It was Raphi. She had a baseball club in her hands. The hulks chuckled. I’d laugh—if my life didn’t depend on Raphi—and that puny little club. The hulks dropped me like thunder on granite. I hit the kitchen counter. I wasn't the thunder. I wasn't the granite. That’s the last sound I heard. *** I woke up on the Harley. Siren blaring in the distance. Great smelting heat boiled my bruises hot. I saw flames when we rounded the corner. I recognized the burning building. It was my building. My house—my daddy’s house, was on fire! “No!” I screamed. I barely had it out before a hand cupped my mouth. I looked into the owner’s face. It had to be a ghost, but I saw the bruised, beaten and battered face of the ‘professional’. Yelena the auto specialist. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” She grinned. “Rumor has it, you are too.” “Raphi, what else is she?” “Martial arts instructor,” Raphi called over the din of the sirens. “Yel’s got lots of endurance.” I rested my head against Yelena or her ghost. I couldn’t tell. I hoped this was all a dream. Yel’s cotton T-shirt irritated the bruises on my neck. The cold night frost sank into my welts and bruises. I admit. This could never be a dream. It had to be a nightmare. Certainly wasn't all in my head. I watched the burning house until I could see it no more. Then I noticed something else. There were two other Harleys. One in front and the other behind us. We were running.

27

“Why are we running Raphi? The police and fire department will help us.” “They definitely aren't going to help me,” said Yelena. “You made me steal a car, remember that?” “I'll explain everything when we’re someplace safe,” Raphi said. I couldn't argue. I felt like hell. There were other questions on my mind. Like how did the fire start? What happened to Philippé? What would happen to me now that Philippé stole everything I had? I couldn't feel myself anymore. I knew what it was. I was slipping away–again. This time, I wasn't so sure about waking up. *** I saw fog all around. Fog only, no sign of Raphi. Then I saw a man I had never seen before. He floated to me in a yacht on a sea of golden waves. He looked like no man I had ever seen before. Diamonds couldn't shine any brighter. Sand sprinkled the seashore—like woolly clouds above. The yachtsman waved me over. I wasn't going to be stupid enough to walk on water. Until I saw some other boy going out to him—and walking on the golden water. I put out my feet to give it a shot. The sand felt like granulated sugar squished between my toes. The water felt comfortable enough when I waded in. Except, instead of floating I swirled straight to the bottom. Then it began to heat up. First, like hot cocoa, until I felt like barbecue in a pot of flaming coals. I struggled to float. I tried to cry out—I couldn't speak. I caught a glimpse of the man in the yacht. His eyes were fire. He stretched out bronze hands to catch me. “Purify your heart.” He whispered. I woke up. Sweat pouring through my pores. Felt like a heavy downpour beat me down in the middle of the Amazon. It was sunset. I found myself in a sneaky little wooden cabin. Complete with dusty dried surfaces, dust moats and cobweb. All the windows were open–a dream. That's what it was. I rolled on my stomach and slipped off again.

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CHAPTER TWO

HOPELESS Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

The next time I woke up, I heard the wind whipping through tall willowy branches of trees. They enclosed the cabin like masquerades. I tried to get up but my sides felt stiffer than the bamboo mat I laid on. That’s when I first noticed the long strips of white bandage neatly wrapped around my shoulders, chest and face. A Harley kicked up in the distance, or two or three. They rode off like cyclones and left the air heavy with dust. Raphi, she wouldn't leave me, would she? It’s not that I couldn't make it without her. Still, even I would abandon me right now. Thank God, she’s nothing like me. Raphi’s not the sort to abandon me. Least I hoped so. Especially not after Philippé stole everything I had left. Philippé that toad. I hope he’s dead. Only then, they’d think I killed him. Everyone thinks I’m nuts. The words of the man with the burning eyes burned through my brain. I shook it off. How could I possibly ever be pure? I leave that to any old maid who would care enough to pray for me. I had Philippé to deal with. Nothing 'pure' could possibly come of it. I spotted a small TV set in the corner opposite the tiny mat. I crawled over like a sack of lab bones. I definitely didn't know where I was but I was certain that a late night fire in a nice neat neighborhood like mine would be news worthy. I was right. The headlines said ‘three feared dead in mysterious fire’. The police and fire department were still on it. Couldn’t wait to hear Philippé’s dead. I'll celebrate with a candy bar, if Raphi loans me the money. Footsteps marched up the cabin’s porch. The door flew open. I let out a puff of air. It was Raphi. Still, I’m an ingrate so I said, “Where have you been all morning? I was getting ready to search for you.” “Not in the state you’re in,” said Raphi. “It’s a miracle you got out of bed.” “You mean mat?” “Yel was right. I should let you sleep on the bare floor with the rest of us.”

29

She hauled some fish across her shoulder and dumped it in a pan on a wide wooden counter with two stoves in the farthest corner of the cabin. “Where is she anyway and where are the others?” “How many were they?” “Three, counting Yel.” The dots suddenly connected. It clicked. “Uh, I think they've made off on their Harleys—and maybe ours too.” “What!” Raphi burst out of the cabin in a storm. “Blast! Blast it! Those double crossing pesky girls just robbed us!” Raphi roared through the cabin door and flew into the corner with the stove. She shoved the makeshift counter aside, lifted a wooden lid and disappeared. “Blast! Those ugly hearted children!” Raphi reappeared above the door and threw an empty jewelry pouch on the floor. I crawled to get hold of it. It held a crumpled note that read: ‘It’s been fun saving your life Raphi, but ‘nothing goes for nothing’ they say. I'll send you post cards from Paris. Your friend Yel. PS: I still owe you one.’ “I don't understand Raphi. So they took your Harley, what else did they take?” “The diamonds,” Raphi sighed. “They took your diamonds.” “My…my diamonds? What diamonds?” Raphi sat down hard on the mat and stared at me. “She didn't talk about them much did she?” I didn't like the sound of that. “Who?” “Your mother didn't say much about her parents, did she?” “No, what has that got to do with diamonds? Tell me about the diamonds!” “They gave her the diamonds ever before your birth.” “How did they get them, Raphi? Tell me, tell me about everything!” “Mrs. O’Dell told me—” “The crazy old woman who lives across the street?” “Well yes, but she’s not crazy,” said Raphi. “I’m guessing that if it hadn't been for her you’d already be dead now.” “How’s that?” “She’s the one who told me all about you. How your mom needed a housekeeper and you needed saving.” “What? Crazy old O’Dell, how did she know that?”

30

“I went grocery shopping one day and saw a man pulling a little boy by his two ears like a donkey. All because he dared to ask for a Popsicle. I told him his piece and that I had child welfare services on speed dial. Mrs. O’Dell was there. After that she walked up to me and said ‘I know a boy who needs you.’” “How could she have known about them?” “The hanger sessions?” I nodded. We called Philippé’s abuse the ‘The hanger sessions.’ That made it not so embarrassing to talk about. “Remember when you told me a fairy used to leave cake and lemonade on your windowsill each evening starting from when you were eight till the night before I came?” “I also said I don't believe in fairies anymore.” “Well Mrs. O’Dell was your fairy. She came around one day to convince your mother to join her in tea and fellowship with the angels—” “That’s why she’s nuts.” “Well, she heard you howling. She stayed to watch the completely horrible deed outside your window until you passed out. Then she called the police.” “The police? She tried to help me?” “Yes but apparently Philippé, ever the charmer, conned them into believing you were safely sleeping in your bed. That’s how the neighborhood first started to refer to hers as ‘crazy’. That’s why she used to leave cake and lemonade on your windowsill.” “Then she got you to come over and be our housekeeper?” Raphi nodded. “Why didn't she call the police again?” “Your mother begged her not to.” My teeth clamped tight. I’d almost forgotten all about the hateness. All alone in the hospital and wrapped up like a mummy with a thousand tubes running through her. Maybe she got what she deserved. The eyes of fire flashed in front of me. “Tell me about the diamonds. Yelena and her gang are getting away.” “We'll never be able to catch them, Seagan.” “Maybe the police will.” “We’re supposed to be dead or missing. Dead people don't make police reports, and rarely do the missing. We have to wait Seagan, if we show up too soon, the police could accuse us of murder, arson, or something. I’m not sure Philippé and his crooks made it out alive.”

31

I couldn't believe I’d forgotten the question that kept rasping through my brain since the previous night. Before the mysterious dream. “Who started the fire?” “Philippé did. After his guys tied me to a chair. Before Yel showed up. She doesn't like being beaten up. Well who does? She and her gang beat them bad enough. By the time we made it out, the house burned like cake soaked in liquor. If Philippé made it, he’s probably after us already…for the diamonds.” “Tell me about the diamonds already!” “Okay, okay,” said Raphi. “Mrs. O’Dell said your grandparents were divers. Your grandfather was a marine geologist, and your grandmother a nautical archeologist. “Rumor has it that they found a large box of diamonds in a sunken ship from the 15th century. They never admitted these findings to the appropriate authorities.” “Why not? Why did they hide them?” “The ship was a joint venture of the British and Spanish crowns. If they admitted their find, the crown would repatriate the treasure and give them some measly award.” “So they kept if for themselves?” “Exactly,” said Raphi. “The authorities officially dismissed it as a hoax. Since the police and all the others couldn't find any evidence of treasure no matter how hard they tried.” “Then how are you so sure there was ever any treasure?” “Because your grandparents lived a life too reckless for their income and they both retired at forty.” “How old were they when they found the diamonds? If they found any.” “He was thirty-five and she was thirty-two.” “How did they get the money?” “Black market trading—mostly in the orient.” “And they never got caught?” “They never did it in person. They traded using rich contacts who shared in the profits. Especially from the Mediterranean, the middle and Oriental East. You know the sort from families that are expected to have lots of expensive jewels.” “Wow, they were smart crooks, I like them. How did they die?” “Their luxury boat sank off the coast of Spain. Broken iron railing trapped them in. They went down with the boat. The rest of the crew survived.” “Talk about karma.”

32

“It’s called reaping what you sow. Your mother was so ashamed of them.” “But she kept their diamonds anyway.” “What could the girl do? She didn't know better at the time.” “And Mrs. O’Dell knows all this because—” “She used to be their accomplice. She might not look it now but she was born into a royal family in Monaco.” “The crazy old lady across the street? Tea and angels?” “Yep, same one.” “And now all that money’s gone.” “Not all of it.” Raphi reached into her pocket and pulled out two sparkling white balls. “Whoa, those are nearly as big as my eyeballs!” “You should have seen the ones Yelena stole.” “We’re saved! We could at least rent an apartment in civilization.” Raphi winced, “No, not yet.” I sensed something brooding on the surface of her eyes. Then she chuckled. “What’s wrong with this cabin anyway?” “It’s out of civilization. Or maybe that’s just my imagination.” “I spent a good deal of time here when I was your age, you know.” “I am not you. But now that I think about it, why didn't Philippé steal the diamonds earlier?” “Oh he’s been working at it alright,” said Raphi. “First he got rid of your dad, and then your mom and you were next in line.” “I thought the hateness was smart. Why didn't she get rid of him first?” “You know, Philippé never cared for your mother. The diamonds were ever his only attraction. Philippé’s quite the actor. She had him figured out alright but he already had her by the throat.” “What’s that supposed to mean? I never saw them fight, not even a tiny argument.” “That’s because she kept it that way.” Vapor hissed through the sides of Raphi’s lips. “He threatened to make the police reopen the case on the diamonds. She’s not as crooked as your grandparents were. They’d easily find the diamonds on her and then she would go to jail for lying on oath, obstructing an investigation and stuff like that.” “She testified for her parents?” “And that’s not all. She was questioned a few months before you were born, when she bought the house.”

33

“My dad bought that house. I've seen the papers.” “She bought it in your father’s name. It was her money. When they first got married, he was rich in potential but broke in cash.” “That’s not true!” I said. My father was a smart hardworking decent guy. I think. I’m certain. I hope. “Did she lie?” “Yes. That’s why she let Philippé do all the mean things he did to you.” “Because diamonds meant more to her than I did, right?” “Well I don't know. What do you think?” asked Raphi. “What do you think would happen with ‘the hateness’ in jail, if Philippé had you all to himself? Think about it.” I froze. Fear crawled through my spine like the shudders of freezing earthworms. I hated to think about it. I didn't care to think about it. If thoughts could kill, this here's a deadly one. My stomach lurched. I crawled over to the bamboo mat. I’d gotten enough history for one day. More like an end of the world horror chronicle is what it felt like. Raphi got up and gave me some aspirin. “You must be hungry. I'll make lunch.” I was slipping away again. Weariness gnawed at my joints. Every inch of me ached for rest. Perky rays somehow made it through the dense trees. They were blinding my eyes with their brilliance. And reminding me of a certain pair of brilliant eyes Raphi noticed my clumsiness. She closed the windows above the mat. “Raphi,” I said. “How did you know all this stuff…about mom and Philippé?” Raphi jerked up. “About who?” “About mom and–” Mom—I’d said ‘mom’ and not “the hateness.” Raphi’s cool fingers swept away beads of sweat from off my forehead. “That didn't feel so bad, did it?” I was slipping again. I couldn't hear everything she said. I heard the very last words, “…And she told me.” When I woke up, Raphi had a bowl of steaming water and bottles of hospital smelling stuff ready to clean my wounds. “Are you alright Seagan? You look like you've had a nightmare.” “You don't look like my mother.” I know I shouldn't have snapped at her but I did it anyway so, there. I let her clean the wounds in silence. Even though I’d much sooner burn myself than endure the spirits.

34

For my impatience, Raphi rewarded me with a plate of not so spiced fish and beans and lettuce. The combination was awful. Raphi cooks quite okay, in civilization. Out in the wild…uh…huh. As soon as I clunked down the last bite I asked, “When can we go back?” “Back where?” asked Raphi. I was silent. Raphi sighed. “There is no going back. Certainly not before we find out what the police think of this whole mess and definitely not soon after.” “When and where will we go?” “I don't know. This is the only house I've got,” Raphi shrugged. “I don't have a job. Your mom is in the hospital unconsciously condensing medical bills. The house is gone. I don't know.” Now, I was convinced she would just up and run, like anyone else would. The easy way out. She was all I had left. Images of a yacht on golden waters and a beckoning man swept through my brain. I pushed them out as quickly as they came. I’d rather turn my nightmares into dreams than have haunting mirages turn into nightmares. The TV was on all night. There was no other way to know if we’d just become fugitives. For the moment, we were still only refugees. I stared at the screen until my eyelids became too heavy to lift. Then I drifted off. It was still dark as midnight when a hand drummed my back. I peered through the fog at Raphi. “Can't a fellow enjoy his bed? I mean, mat? What is it?” “Uh! The report is over,” said Raphi. “Maybe they'll show it again later.” I sat up. “Show what?” “They haven't found any bodies or remains yet. But Mr. Caulfield says he saw me leave on my Harley.” “Caulfield our neighbor?” Raphi nodded. “I thought he couldn't see well?” “He can't,” said Raphi. “He said he saw me leave around 9 pm.” “Must have been the time we went to Yelena’s.” “Exactly.” “Then he didn't see me on the Harley. So they think I’m dead?” “Not yet, but they’re searching for me.” “They think you weren't there just because Mr. Caulfield said so?” “That and your mom’s diary, it was in the car wreckage. My quarterly week off started the day before the fire.”

35

“Oh. What about me, what happens to me? Can't you say you took me camping or fishing or something?” “Camping in a cabin?” asked Raphi. “Your mom’s vegetative, your stepfather’s out of town, some mysterious fire guts your house and you just went fishing with the housekeeper? That stinks rotten to me boy.” “Why can't we just tell them everything? Why did we run in the first place?” “Because of the diamonds!” “Mom’s unconscious in a hospital they can't put her in jail anymore.” “What about Yelena and the others?” “What about them? Fat load of good they've done us.” “They saved our lives Seagan. What did you want me to do?” “I know all about your drowned cousin.” I watched the color drain off her face. I've always trusted her. This didn't give me any satisfaction. All’s fair in fires and accidents and drowning. “I didn't kill her.” “Didn’t you? Then why did you run? Do you always need to run? I wouldn't have run. Not even from the fire. Now look all the trouble you've gotten us both into!” “I’m doing my best Seagan! I've always done my best with you. I didn't want to tell the police that it was my mother–even if it was an accident. Doesn't matter anymore, she confessed in a letter before she died.” “You've been cleared?” Why didn’t I see that on the database? “Yes, I've been cleared.” The TV took charge of the room and we sat facing each other. “I think I know what to do with you now.” I didn't like the sound of that. It seemed to be heading down under. “Remember that boarding school in Australia?” Why did I know it? Guess I really put her out, digging into her past. “What about it?” “It resumed three days ago.” Did she just hear herself? “Umm, it’s in Australia. It could only be an alibi if I was there three days ago. Let me say it once more, it’s in Australia.” “I’m not deaf,” Raphi said. “Your school picks students and supervises the journey to Australia. Oklahoma is a meeting point.” “You mean they've been in Oklahoma the whole while?” “Yes, in Oklahoma City.”

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“They’d have to lie to cover me up.” “I don't do lies Seagan. I’m not looking for a cover up or an alibi. I need to know that you'll be someplace safe.” “Think they’d take me in? We can't even afford their fees anymore.” Raphi shrugged. “I don't know. It’s worth a try.” “I won't let anyone turn me into a charity case.” “And neither will I.” “I wouldn't be in this mess if you’d just let me be.” “You wouldn't be alive either.” “I won't go to Aus—” “Sh.” Raphi placed a finger on her lips, “Listen.” “What is it?” Raphi remained silent. “Can you hear that?” “Hear what? What is—?” It was a car, maybe two. Make that three, crawling like anacondas on a hunt. Now the sound was coming from different directions, growing faster and drawing closer. “The police,” said Raphi. “They’re here for me.” “They think you did this? But you had an alibi—” “Doesn't matter,” said Raphi. “They'll want to question and detain me anyway. Unless… ” She paused in mid-sentence as her eyes went wide. She didn't have to say it. “Philippé.” I mumbled. She was moving hurriedly round the cluttered cabin. Picking things and dropping things. The cars’ headlights were upon the cabin now. The sky was clearing. Daylight was near. Even nearer with the headlights. “Put this on quickly.” Raphi threw me a thick hooded oversized sweater. I could hear the engines and the excited barking of dogs. Thought I heard some Native American drums too. I realized it was my heart. I’d worn everything but my sneakers when Raphi threw me a large brown envelope. “What’s that?” “Papers to the house—” I handed them back. “There isn't a house anymore. Raphi moved past me. “There’s fire insurance and the land is still yours.” She shoved aside the makeshift kitchen counter and lifted the wooden door. “Your acceptance letter from the boarding school, transcript, passport, birth

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certificate and the diamonds are in there too. Get to Mrs. O’Dell she'll help you get to the meeting point. She’s part of their alumni.” I could hear the engines halt at different points around the cabin now. The headlights went off. Flashlights came on. Raphi muttered under her breath. “Get in there.” Doors slammed. Unleashed dogs barked up a storm. The last I saw of Raphi, she slid a pocketknife under her sleeve. I descended into the darkness. Raphi replaced the wooden door above me. Above me, I heard Raphi carefully lift the counter to cover the lid. Footsteps climbed the narrow porch. Then I heard the knock. “Hello, is anyone home?” That voice sounded so suspiciously cheerful. Too cheerful for my liking. I heard the latch lift and the door creaking open. I thought my wild heartbeats just as loud. “Good evening,” I heard Raphi say. “Good evening,” one cheerful lilting said. “I’m Rendt, me and my fishing gang Kevin and Steve are looking for a cabin around here. It belongs to one of our friends. He couldn’t come this time but he gave us the keys.” Here I heard a set of keys jangle. “But we’ve gotten kind of lost. We can’t even find our way back. Maybe you know his cabin. He goes by the name of Grant. Don't know if you might have heard of a Grant in these parts?” “The only other cabin I've seen in these parts fell apart years ago. The owners passed away and the kids just never came back.” “Nah,” said another burly voice. “That’s not our Grant.” “I knew we’d get lost in the middle of nowhere! What are we going to do now?” “We better head home.” Said a calmer and more subdued voice. “No use troubling the little lady. Our apologies Ma'am.” That sure gave me no small measure of relief. That and the sound of retreating footfalls. It was a narrow escape. My heartbeat started to recover. “Wait!” Raphi called. That set my heart pounding again. “Where exactly are you guys headed?” The burly one answered. “Well, we're headed back to Tulsa, if we ever find our way out of these woods. Might as well comfort ourselves with a barbecue. What do you think fellows?” His friends grunted their assent.

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“I was wondering if my friend and I could join you. I’ve had this cabin for over a decade. I can get you out of these woods quite easily.” I heard Raphi say. What in the world was she thinking? We have nowhere to go. “For the barbecue? Sure! There'll be plenty enough to go round. Right guys.” “Actually, I meant if you could just give us a ride back into Tulsa.” “Oh certainly, it's the least we could do. Plus, we might not make it out of these woods with the gas we have left without help.” “Okay thanks just give us a minute please.” “Sure, we'll be waiting by the car.” I heard the cabin’s front door slam shut and the patter of Raphi’s boots. I heard her drag the counter and the next I knew she pulled me out by the hood. “What on earth are you doing?” “You don't know how lucky we are. Random cars driving out here? The Harley's gone. This is our one chance to get back to civilization in one piece.” “What about the police and Philippé?” “Time we stopped running–isn't that what you said?” *** Irish could hear the mutterings of eavesdroppers on her conversation with Above. “Just open the door. I can hear you already.” The handle snapped and the door opened up by a fraction of a crack. Persis poked through, curls first and then the rest of her dark tanned face. Her brown eyes scanned the warm room with curiosity. Irish chuckled. “Give way for your accomplice Persis, I know you're not in this all alone.” Persis stumbled forward, pushed in by Dina's boldfaced march into the room with a cluttered steamy cookie tray. A gust of air from the cool hallway blew in past her. “I came to bring you my fresh batch of lemon cookies.” Dina announced in her usual long-suffering manner. Irish stole a side-glance at Persis. “Is that all of it?” Dina glared down at Irish patiently. Irish pretended not to notice. “Thank you Ms. Shirraf you can leave them on the table.” “Well!” Dina snapped. “I never!”

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Irish stood up from the floor and leaned against the wall. “Well? You never what?” “Well won't you tell us when the new boy is going to get here? Won't you tell us if this will be his room? If that's why you're praying here? Won't you tell us Miss Irish?” Persis could barely talk fast enough. Irish rubbed her temples. “Persis, I see you've spent way too much time with Dina.” Persis shrugged. “What can a fellow do? She makes the cookies that keep us trim.” “Bless you,” Dina murmured with an approving pat. She rewarded Persis with another cookie. “So won't you tell us Miss Irish?” Persis mumbled through a mouthful. “If you promise to stop talking while you eat.” Persis nodded. “He'll be here soon. I know he’s closer now than when the Father first made it known. Yes, this will be his room. I'm praying that he won't leave here the same way he comes. I'm praying that he surrenders to Above and finds a home here with us. I'm praying we'll all be perfect vessels in executing the Father's plan. I hope that He will be pleased with us. I hope He will be pleased.” “Amen.” Dina nodded. “Amen.” Persis agreed. *** I stuffed my brown envelope into my sweater. Then waited while Raphi locked up the cabin. Hazy sunrays peeked through tall lazy branches. The breaking day gleamed so new and fresh. I wished I could get a fresh break too. Then beggars would ride. “Keep your hood up and your face covered,” Raphi whispered. I nodded. I still had to live my lie of a life. For all the noise they’d made there were only two cars and three dogs. One was a small truck with lots of fantastical fishing gear and two of the dogs. The other car held the other dog, more fantastical fishing gear and the other two fishing friends. Any which way, Raphi and I would have to ride in separate cars. Raphi gave me a nod and slid into the car with the two friends, but not before slipping me her pocketknife.

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The car set off with Raphi’s silhouette outlined against the window. The truck followed. The fishing friend in the truck was the sober subdued one. “How’d you get here?” “We…uh, we rode here.” “On what?” “On a Harley.” “You mean that Harley?” Which Harley? Yelena stole the Harley. I stole a glance at the shrinking cabin behind us through the rear view mirror. Sure enough, Raphi's Super Glide stood gleaming under the shade of the tall trees. Yelena. She came back. Probably looking for the rest of the diamonds. I patted the thick brown envelope under my sweater. The fishing friend was still waiting for an answer. I nodded and faced the window. There's nothing scarier than being homeless, without family and friends to run to. Unless, you’re also the target of greedy treasure seekers. I stole another glance at the rearview mirror. The Harley was gone. The fishing friend noticed it too. He was looking at me all weirdly. I pretended not to notice. I kept my eyes glued to the road and my mouth shut. Thankfully, the fishing friend only minded to his driving or so it seemed. The drive wasn't half as long as I expected. It took over an hour. I believed Raphi’s cabin far enough to be in the Amazon or Australia itself. We rounded the corner to 31st and Harper. I could see the distant rubble and ashes of my home. It stabbed through me. Philippé. I hate him. The truck slowed down. The car in front of us, slowed to a stop and Raphi got out. I took my seat belt off. In the middle of my 'thank you', the truck suddenly took off at top speed. The doors snapped shut. The truck hurtled off some other lane with my head bobbing around in the front seat. “Hey mister! What do you think you're doing? That was my stop!” The fellow sneered. “Not anymore.” I slid out my pocketknife. “I knew something was up with you and your buddies. Now take me back to my stop right now.” “Shut up kid, you don't look tough enough to use that thing.” “Really, well look again.”

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The fellow turned to face me. He had the plainest face I've ever seen. It was void of any expression. It looked familiar, though I couldn't place it. Void or not, I need to get out and find Raphi. “Let me out, right now.” The fellow snorted. “It’s your call.” The cars pulled over. To my relief the door’s lock snapped open. I bounded out. Fast enough to be relieved. Slow enough not to look scared. Then I saw where he let me off. My relief all but vanished. I was in a car dump. Who better to welcome me than Yelena, the thief and auto specialist. My heart-drilled bass like a trombone. The fishing friend drove away, not before I caught sight of the sticker on the truck. A 'V' shaped viper dangling from a branch. That’s why the driver of the truck looked familiar. He belonged to Philippé’s society. They called it a 'society'–a cult is what it was. “Surprised?” I turned to face Yelena. “Surprised? No,” I shook my head. “Certainly not. Surprised is when your greasy hide doesn't return for the rest of my diamonds.” “I had my friends deliver you like one of those TV dinners. Hope you don't mind?” “What do you want?” Yelena cocked her head. “Smart boy. Just hand it over and no one will get hurt.” “You're a smart girl. We both know that’s a lie. In fact, someone’s already hurt.” Yelena grinned. “How did you know the diamonds were with me?” She wasn't smiling anymore. She took slow steady steps towards me. I refused to budge. “You're a smart boy, why don't you figure that out?” I already did, she probably came back as soon as she realized the diamonds weren't complete. She must have gotten to know how many there were when she rescued Raphi and I. I only needed time to plan my escape. I once read in the school library that greed begets more greed. What could make Yelena greedy enough to take me safely back to 31st and Harper? Hmm…more diamonds. I didn't have any more. She didn't know that. I heard a light whisper, “Purify your heart.” I sighed, whoever said that must be unable to see the threat before me. She was getting ready to pounce. I could see it in her eyes. There was nothing

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pure about it. Suddenly lights flashed out. A car rounded the curb. It was a police car and it halted right in front of us. The policewoman took one sweeping look at Yelena and turned towards me. “Is everything okay here?” I knew I should have screamed 'no.' I knew I should have jumped in the back of that car and begged for help. Then I couldn't stop thinking about the fire, and Philippé. The diamonds. How else could I pay my mom's medical bills? Top on my list, I don't want Raphi to go to jail for her part in all of this. She'll be easy prey with all her past. Of course, I don't want to go to jail either. The policewoman looked me in the eye. By some instinct, maternal or other, she didn't seem to think things were all right. “Are you sure you're alright young man?” I took one look at Yelena. I couldn't let this opportunity slip. Raphi would call it help from God. “Actually I need a ride back to 31st and Harper.” Yelena let out a nearly inaudible hiss. The policewoman smiled. “Hop right in. I'd be glad to help.” She turned to Yelena. “And you Miss?” “Oh, I'm fine. I was just giving him directions.” I huffed. Make that life threatening directions. I got into the back of the car. The policewoman sped off without a backwards glance at Yelena. I couldn't stop thinking how close to death I'd been. I wouldn't put anything past Yelena. I'm beginning to suspect she had something to do with the fake brakes that set this ugly motor rolling. Seeing as she's such great friends with Philippé’s cult members and all. The ride went on silently. Except for the policewoman's nearly inaudible hum. For someone with such accurate instinct, she didn't say anything. Soon, we were in 31st and Harper. “Which house is it?” I looked up. “31 E.” “Mrs. O’Dell's?” “You know her?” “Who doesn't?” “Are you her grandson or something?” “No, she’s a friend of my grandparents.” “I see.” The policewoman pulled up in front of Mrs. O’Dell's house. She wasn't done with the conversation. “Where are your parents?” I unbuckled the seatbelt and climbed out of the car. “My mom is vegetative, on life support at Everett’s. My dad is dead.”

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“I'm sorry to hear that.” From the driveway, I could see a silhouette lingering by Mrs. O’Dell's living room window. I hoped it was Raphi. “Yeah, me too. Thanks for the ride.” Halfway to the porch, the policewoman called me back. “You looked like you were in a fix back in that dump. It looks like you need fixing now that I've gotten a better look at you.” I pulled my hood tighter. The policewoman shook her head. “Mrs. O’Dell is a nice person. But in case you need a stronger hand or money to take care of your mom, there's a lady not too far off. She handles all sorts. No strings attached. Absolutely none. Irish McCarrie, I'm sure you've heard of her.” I shook my head 'no'. She found that incredulous to belief. “Well that figures.” She handed me a card. “Find her. It could make all the difference in your life.” I stuffed the card in my side pocket and watched her pull away. Halfway to the porch, the front door croaked open and Raphi stood in the doorway. I'd never been so happy to see her–or anyone else in my entire life. Raphi crushed me in a hug. The big sister, I always longed for. “What happened back there?” “Our ride turned out to be delivery guys. They delivered me straight to Yelena like a mail order bride. They also belong to Philippé’s society. So if he's alive…if he's looking for us…he knows exactly where to look now.” Mrs. O’Dell peered down at me from behind Raphi. “So who called the police?” “No one, she happened to round the curb right before Yelena pounced on me.” Right after I thought there was no one was looking out for me. Maybe there was someone looking out for me, after all. Mrs. O’Dell shook her shock of gray curls. “I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe in purpose. Someone sent that officer your way.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t believe in 'purpose' or your 'Someone.' I'd rather believe in fairies.” Raphi stepped forward “Where are your manners? Mrs. O’Dell is being kind to us.” “So? Doesn’t give her the right to try to brainwash me. Where was her 'Someone' all these days of my life, huh? Where is He now?” Raphi made to speak. Mrs. O’Dell held up a hand. She pierced straight into my eyes. “I'll have you know Seagan that whatever evil you had to live with, every

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tear you shed at night while so called respectable neighbors turned their backs on you, my Someone saw. He sees everything.” I huffed but she didn't bat a lash. She simply went right on. “Help may not have come as quickly as it should. Still He sent me. Then He sent Raphi. Now I probably should have done much more. I should have acted faster. And I apologize for not doing so.” She stared straight into my eyes. It stung. I swallowed but didn't blink. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Don't blame God for human errors and mistakes, Seagan. Don't shut the door against Him. As bad as it seems, He is the reason things aren't worse than they are. And the only hope you presently have for anything better.” I shrugged off Mrs. O’Dell’s gently wrinkled hand. I looked at Raphi—she stood there like she was getting ready to cry. It finally crashed down on her. The weight of all the events of the last few days. I knew she couldn't bear it alone anymore. Somehow, I'd forgotten the good little things. The nights I thought I would starve to death, only to find Mrs. O’Dell's cookies and juice by the window. Then that night when I finally worked out the perfect suicide plan, only to have salvation come in the form of Raphi a few hours later. So maybe her Someone was real. Maybe He cared. I daresay He doesn't do enough. Now that I think about it. If He is…what exactly does He do with people? Would He want somebody no one else wants? Would He want me? It blazed through my heart. Purify your heart. I realized it. The yachtsman with the flaming eyes. He is her Someone. Mrs. O’Dell turned away from me and strode to her garage. “We'd better get going.” I turned to Raphi. “Go? Go where?” I saw a hesitant shadow flicker across her face. “Raphi, what’s going on?” Raphi strode over and pulled me forward with a hand round my hood. “We're going to stop running. We're going clean and legal just the way you've always wanted.” “I won't go to jail?” “No Seagan, you haven't done anything wrong.” “They won't dump me in foster care?” “I'd die before I let them do that.” “What about you? Will you be free?”

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I saw that hesitation again. “I'll be fine if you're alright.” We bored into each other’s eyes. I could see it. She was ready to sacrifice herself for me. Nott who is nuts. The big sister I never had. Mrs. O’Dell pulled up in front of us with some 1980 looking car. Colored bright pink. I'd always called it 'the ancient pinkie'. Never would ride in it. Except for my current state of desperation. I leaned in and whispered to Raphi. “Like seriously? So we're trading a Harley for this?” She ruffled my hood. “The Harley's gone. Get used to it.” “Are we turning ourselves in to the police?” “No, first we're going to a lawyer's house. Mrs. O’Dell says she'll know what to do with us.” My brain spun. “Lawyers cost money. We can't even afford mom's medical bills.” “Don’t you think I know that? This lady helps people for free.” “She's the legal Santa Claus?” “Something like that.” “It’s now or never.” Mrs. O’Dell called. It was my idea to stop running. Now that it came down to it, I can't imagine what I was thinking. I can't imagine that I was thinking when I said that. I just didn't think it through. Now I'd feel safer back in the cabin. Raphi read my mind. “There’s nowhere to hide.” She climbed into the front seat and tapped the door. “Come on, let's go. Daylight is wasting away.” I stared at Raphi, then at the ancient pinkie. They had something in common. Loyalty. Any other person would probably have abandoned me already. Raphi’s done her best. She's not my blood sister anyway. I'll go. I'll try the lawyer. If I don't feel safe about it, I'll leave. I won't have to drag Raphi along with me. I'll just vanish. Disappear. It doesn't matter where. With Philippé on the loose–and Yelena. My days are numbered anyway. A few minutes later, the ancient pinkie rattled up a high driveway. Before us loomed a house as big as a warehouse but not quite a mansion. A big bright garden spread out on either side of the car. Raphi echoed my thoughts. “This place looks as big as a warehouse.”

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“And it's colored red.” “It’s sort of shaped like a dolled up warehouse.” Mrs. O’Dell nodded. “It used to be a warehouse.” “What? It's only as big as a warehouse. It almost looks like a castle. I mean look at that garden. It's bright like a rainbow. Look at those shiny red tiles on the walls. ” “Well,” said Mrs. O’Dell. “That’s the McCarrie effect.” McCarrie? Why did that name sound so recently familiar? I remembered the card the policewoman gave me. I took it out. Yep, it was the same person. ‘Irish McCarrie, Lawyer, Founding Partner: Hope Ark.’ I tucked the card safely back into my pocket. Soon we stood in front of an enormous brass door. The entire building loomed large over us. A golden arch hung off the arched roof. It read 'Hope Ark’ in gleaming golden letters. Just then, the door swung open. A curly haired head poked out. She looked around nose first. Like she was sniffing at us. She looked about my age or a little less. Her nose stopped at me. She broke into a wide toothy grin. Quite charming. Except it got me wishing I could knock her teeth out. “Are you looking for a place to live?” Isn't that a stupid question? I was going to give a stupid answer. Raphi beat me to it. “That among plenty other things.” “Dina he's here! He's here! Miss Irish was right! He's here!” With that, the door slammed shut. Right in our faces. Raphi and I exchanged a look. It seems. Mrs. O’Dell led us to her kind. A warehouse of crazies. We looked to Mrs. O’Dell. She scratched her grey head and chuckled. “Uh… that was Persis. She's new to the Ark. She gets a bit too excited now and again.” The door swung open again. This time a thirty-ish looking woman stood at the door. The full folds of her skirt swirled down at her feet. Competing with her long swirling dark curls for attention. Her long sleeved shirt buttoned up to her neck. She looked matronly, like a graceful model. A matron model? She certainly didn't strike me as a lawyer. She lacked the look. I know. My mom was one, before the accident. My "mom"… hmmm…it's been a while since I thought of her that way. Model matron cleared her throat. “Mrs. O’Dell, it's so good to see you. Won't you introduce your friends?”

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“Dina, it's always a pleasure. This is Seagan Nott and Raphaella Tidely. I'm hoping you have space for us?” Dina spread out her hands and stepped aside. “Of course we have space. We always have space. Having space is the life of us. Come on in. Let’s get you settled.” She was polite but firm. Someone used to seeing total strangers turn up at her door. Why would anyone be that nice to everyone? For free. Unless…it's not. I turned to Raphi. “Do we have to pay for this?” Dina shook out the folds of her skirt. “Of course not, our services are free. What? Please gawk at me like an alien.” The look wasn't gawking. It was supposed to be a glare. Guess that's her way of telling me she wasn't impressed. She must be used to it. Immune from total stranger glares. Mrs. O’Dell tugged on Dina's arm as we marched behind them down a long winding hall. There was a door here. A smaller hall there—every other step. How did one live here and not get lost? “Dina, is Irish in?” Dina resumed her trot. “No, she’s not. She's at the firm but she'll be back in the evening.” “Then maybe we should head there first.” Dina shook her head. “Now there's no need for that. You know we welcome everyone here. Irish never minds. Except when people don’t turn up here.” “I know that Dina. You see, Seagan needs more than just a place to stay. He needs—” Just then, the curly haired sniffer skipped out one of the many doors and halls. She rammed straight into me. I screamed. My shoulder skid into the wall. Sliding down, I could feel my burns opening up under the bandages. My hood fell back. All the bandages came exposed. Curly hair gasped. So did Dina. Raphi bent to examine the new bruising. Dina looked up to Mrs. O’Dell for explanations. “That’s what I've been trying to tell you. We've got quite a case here.” Dina stood. “I'll call an ambulance.” Mrs. O’Dell held up a hand. “No, not yet. We have legal issues. Serious legal issues. These two are supposed to be missing after a ‘mysterious’ fire gutted their home. The police haven’t ruled out arson.” Dina turned away. “I'll get Irish.”

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The pain was real. I'm witness. A man and woman in medical gear came trudging down the hall with a stretcher. Raphi gave them a hand and they lifted me unto it. “Where are you taking him?” I heard Raphi ask. “We operate a small in house clinic. We're licensed practitioners. He's in good hands.” I did not care about good hands. I was in pain. Real pain. The kind that made me want to slip away. I wouldn’t mind bad hands if it meant the difference between life and death. I just wanted somewhere where they could make me feel better. I really didn't care where. Soon we were in a hospital smelling room. They gave me medication. They must have given me some sort of anesthetic. I didn't feel pain when they took the bandages off. The skin came off with it. My burns and bruises were as good as new. Sore, red, swollen and open. I got drowsy and slept off. Not in the fainting-might-not-wakeup sort of sleep, but in a good—tired—but good way. I woke up to find a tall dark lady staring at me from behind framed glasses. I knew—she was Irish. Not because of her purple Afro-print skirt and cape that she wore with a white long sleeved shirt. The box braid bun hairdo. Her slender tall towering gait. The feeling of being in the presence of someone powerful and important. The way she studied me with her arms crossed. That look—the lawyer look. I just knew she must be Irish. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to say anything. However nice, rude or stupid. She unfolded her arms with slow deliberate steps until she stood by my bedside. She stretched out a hand. “Hello Seagan, I'm Irish McCarrie.” I took her hand. “That’s certainly not an Irish voice. There's a bit of Scottish brogue in there. ” She laughed. “Smart I see. You're right Seagan, I am Scottish.” “A Scotswoman named Irish? Why?” “It’s a practical joke between my father and our family doctor. The doctor was Irish. Quite complicated. And I wouldn't want to bore you with details.” I nodded. I wouldn't want to bore myself right now either. “I've never met a Scotswoman before.” “To be honest Seagan, I haven't seen many of us myself.” I couldn't help but laugh. Dina barged through the door. “What's so funny?”

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“Apparently, I'm the first Scotswoman Seagan's ever seen.” Dina smirked. “You’re the first most of us will ever see.” “Well you could always go to Scotland and see for yourself Seagan. It's as diverse as any other country.” I started to dream up a trip to Scotland. It sounded fantastical. As much as I'd never been outside the United States before. To think of it, I've never been outside Oklahoma. Not that it was such a bad thing. Philippé and the hate—my mom, reared me in that lair like a dairy cow. Philippé, blast that toad. I hope he's dead. ‘Purify your heart.’ I might. After he's dead. ‘Purify your heart.’ Raphi came into the room, the curly haired sniffer followed on her tail. She barely stood by my bedside. Her eyes transfixed to the floor. Then came the croaking of a shy voice. That sounded like it belonged to a ten year old and not someone my age. “Mr. Seagan Sir, I'm sorry about what I did. I promise to be more careful indoors. And to watch where I'm going.” 'Mr. Seagan Sir'? No one ever called me 'Mr.' or 'Sir', ever. No one apologizes to me for anything–ever, in my entire life. I'm used to being the messed up kid who always apologizes because he looks wrong and smells wrong. Maybe she's just a ten year old who looks fourteen. Suddenly all eyes were on me. “What?” Raphi rolled her eyes. “She just apologized. You're supposed to accept her apology.” “Oh—I knew that. I'm just…taking my time.” I propped my head up with my palms. I stared at the ceiling a bit. In what I hoped to be a meditative look. Then I said. “It’s all good, little one. You are dismissed.” The curly hairs bolted upright. “Dismissed? Little one? My name is Persis!” Dina coughed in an ill attempt to disguise laughter. I felt stupid and messed up all over again. Irish smiled at Persis. “Why don't you go help Valeria set the tables for dinner?” Curly hairs nodded and left, not before casting me a sour look. As soon as the door clicked shut, Irish's smile vanished. Her manner turned all brusque and business like. “Now, I'm told you have some serious legal issues. And I'm sorry about what happened to your mom. I want to do all I can to help you. To do that, first I need to know everything that's happened. Exactly the way it happened.”

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I looked at Raphi. She nodded. Irish didn’t look like any of those silly neighbors on 31st and Harper. Yes, I could tell. She wasn't anything like them. She could be trusted. She would help. Like Raphi and Mrs. O’Dell. It was a long night. Because I told them how my daddy died. How much I cried. I told them how my mom married Philippé. How he very nearly ruined my life. I told them I was still alive because of Raphi—housekeeper turned guardian angel. I told them how my mother nearly died. How much I cried. How much I just hated her right before that. I threw it all in there with Yelena, the hulks, the cabin, the police, my thieving grandparents, the diamonds and the mail order fishermen. I’m glad to say, that I did not cry, not one drop. At the end of it all, I told her I didn't want to die. Philippé might still be out there and he might come back for my mom. Or for me…and I was all we had left. And the diamonds too. They would pay her medical bills and my tuition. “Have you seen her medical bills?” asked Mrs. O’Dell. “No, but the diamonds will take care of them, won't they?” “You won't get more than $350,000 for those stones on the black market and you can be sure that your mother’s bills will gulp every penny.” “How do you know that?” “Raphi told me the bill already ran up to $150, 000.” “What!” “Philippé’s paid $100,000 with the insurance money. You have $50,000 waiting and you can be sure there'll be another $50,000 waiting for you when you’re back for the holidays. You'll be lucky if $400,000 is all you spend in that hospital.” I thought I’d won the lottery with those diamonds. Somehow the bills cut the lottery down to size. Free fortune cookies are more what they look like now. I turned to Raphi. “How much do I have to pay for tuition?” “Tuition, room, board, feeding, excursions and all other expenses roughly add up to $50, 000 at the end of high school.” “So it’s me or her.” “Exactly,” agreed Mrs. O’Dell. “And for a moment I actually thought things might just pan out right.” Irish turned to Raphi. “Tuition? What school is that?” “The Wild Oasis Academy in Australia. His mother planned to have him attend, before the accident.” “She planned to dump me in the Australian outback.” I explained.

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“Dump you in the outback?” Raphi huffed. “Honestly, sometimes you're really smart and sometimes you're really dumb.” “What did you say that for?” “The poor woman was only planning a quiet escape from Philippé for the two of you. With you away in school, running away herself would be a piece of cake. All she really wanted was someplace where you'd be safe and Philippé couldn't get hold of you.” Suddenly images came flashing in. The pleading look when she first showed me the Wild Oasis brochure. The promise to come visit. The final unrestrained begging. I could hear her voice in my head. ‘Please, leave this place. I don't want you to get hurt anymore. I can’t…bear it.’ It was finally coming together. Finally making sense. I' do been too blind to see it. Too preoccupied with my conspiracy theory. Too full of hatred. Too full of me. I thought she was in on it with Philippé. Now that I finally see—she can't. She can't do anything. “An escape,” I whispered. “Why didn't she just say so?” I half shouted, quarter screamed and quarter roared. “Why didn't she just say so?” Raphi mimicked. “As if you would keep the secret if you knew.” “What was I going to do? Go up to Philippé and say 'hey, guess who's going out of your reach?'” “Say it? Of course not. You sure would act it though. As artificial as Philippé looks, even he could put that two and two together.” “No I wouldn't. I thought you at least believe in me.” “Doesn't blind me to your arrogance Seagan. You're a mouthful and you know it.” Raphi’s words stung. I knew she was right. Kind of. Still it hurt. It hurts to discover that the one person who seemed to hate you the most, only tried to help you. Irish clicked her tongue. “If you're all done with your shoulda-wouldacouldas, let's talk about now. We can’t do anything about yesterday. Now, tomorrow? That's one long beautiful piece of canvas if I ever saw one myself. What do you want now? If you came here, it's because you're tired of running. What do you want to do with your life now?” “I don’t really know. I want to stop running and hiding. I'll go to the police. I'll do whatever it takes. Just please don't let me go to jail. Don't let Philippé find me and don't let my mom die. I want to talk to her just one last time.”

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Irish stood silent for a while. “Have you ever killed someone, Seagan?” I shook my head 'no'. “Have you ever watched someone kill someone else?” “No.” “Did you help Philippé sell drugs?” “No.” “Did you help Philippé collect money for the drugs?” “No!” “And there's nothing you haven't told me?” “I've said everything I needed to say! I thought you were supposed to help me. You’re supposed to be on my side, not tear me to shreds!” “Honey, I have to tear you to shreds. If the police know something that I don't know, the prosecutor will tear you to shreds in front of a judge and jury. So if there's anything else—I'm the one you tell.” I seriously doubted the wisdom of being there. She's just like the others— condemning. “There’s nothing—” Raphi cleared her throat loud enough to catch my eye. Dina brandished a box of Kleenex. “Are you alright, dearie?” Raphi accepted the Kleenex and nodded. “I'm fine.” I knew what she was doing. Trying to do. It wasn't going to work. I told all that needed telling. If there was anything I didn't say, it didn't need to be told. Irish turned her focus on me. “You were saying?” “That I have nothing else to say.” Irish folded her hands in her laps. “Are you sure about that?” I nodded, not before she caught my eye. I looked into her own. I saw mirrored there, everything I sought to hide and more. I pulled away from her. She smiled a sad kind smile. Irish can't possibly know. Raphi doesn't know that much. How could she? I nodded repeatedly. “There’s nothing more to tell.” Irish shrugged. “If you insist. I'll be waiting for you at the door.” “Where are we going?” She downed a long gulp from her water bottle. “To the police station. Two missing people are about to be found.” Humming, Irish made her way out the door, closing it softly behind her. Raphi and I looked at each other. Raphi shrugged and followed after. Dina helped me put my sneakers on.

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“You'll be fine Seagan. Just tell them everything they need to know. If there's anything they're good at detecting, it’s lies. Especially when told by a bad liar.” I nodded. Whatever the in house doctors gave me, it worked. I couldn't feel anything. All the wounds and bruises went silent. I can't imagine that I first mentioned going clean. I can't imagine. What did I think? I didn't. I didn't think. A power trip of a car stood humming at the front door. The only similarity between it and the old pinkie—four wheels. I turned round looking for a name. Finally found one behind. An “R”. “Irish is this a Rolls-Royce?” “Well it can't fly,” said Irish. “So the earlier we get going the better. I want us to be back in time for dinner.” “Back? For dinner? You mean I’m not going to jail?” “Of course not. You haven’t met the rest of us.” Irish slid into the driver's seat. I hopped in beside her and Raphi sat in the back. We rolled down the driveway, flying on wheels. If anything ever made me doubt the influence of Irish McCarrie—it vanished in that car. My doubts about Irish? They failed to speak up—and would forever remain silent. My doubts about the Man in the yacht? About escaping Philippé? My fear of ending up in jail? If my mother would ever wake up? I'd gladly enslave myself to anyone who could take those away from me. Even for a second. As it stood. I still felt so miserably hopeless. Sure Irish McCarrie's a powerful lady. She looked like she had gold dust flowing through her fingernails or something. A certain glorious thing I couldn't quite understand, or place or explain. She's not the problem. I am. No goodness in the world can clean up my mucky history or admit me to the society of respectable folk on equal footing. I'll always be Seagan Nott—'The Nutcracker,' 'Nott who's nuts.'

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CHAPTER THREE

HELPED Psalm 46: 1 “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.”

We sat there. In the Rolls Royce parked in front of the police station. We sat for minutes. I wished we could sit forever. That’s how long it would take me to muster the guts to walk into a police station and report my involvement in a fire accident that happened three days earlier. One that turned out to be not so accidental. Even though I didn’t start the fire. Even though I was unconscious when the fire started. Other than Raphi—she saw everything. And Irish—she has some sort of ‘knowing power'. Who else would believe me? I looked sideways at Irish. She sat there calmly, staring straight ahead. Like we were waiting in some drive through for greasy lunch. I looked back at Raphi. She kept on cracking her knuckles. It’s, ‘Nott v The World,’ with a little back up. I don’t have a reputation for being anything good. Well it’s now or ever. I face it now or ever live in tormenting fear. If I make it out of this whole shenanigan without seeing the inside of a jail cell or running away or getting locked up for that other thing, I’ll give the Man in the yacht some serious credit. It won’t be because of my good behavior. I opened the door. “Finally,” Raphi sighed. Irish patted me on the back and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Let’s get to it.” We marched into the police station. I led the march, rehearsing my lines, Irish and Raphi marched up right beside me. Turned out that I didn’t have to say a thing. When in good company, you get good treatment. “McCarrie, so good to see you. It’s been quite a while.” “I’ll say. Good to see you Bert.” “McCarrie what brings you here today, donuts for the boys?” “Not today Phil.” The chatter went on right up to the police chief’s office. “Irish,” the Chief stood with an outstretched hand. “Always a pleasure to see you.” Irish shook the hand. “As it is to see you, Sir.” “Have a seat. Who are these new friends of mine?”

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“Seagan Nott and Raphaella Tidely, meet William Daunty.” “Nice to meet you beautiful folks. So what brings your trio here?” Irish looked at me. She winked and gave me her reassuring smile. “Seagan take off your sweater and shirt please.” I looked to Raphi. She nodded. With a knot of dread lodged in my throat, I slowly, carefully lifted the hood. Mr. Daunty’s color drained off his face like washed out makeup. “Almighty God,” he muttered. “Almighty God! Who did this to you?” I found his shock quite shocking. I’d never seen anyone else so affected by my scars, other than Raphi—and Irish and Dina. They were the only ones who’d ever seen them. Aside Philippé and the hate—I mean my mom. “Irish where did you find him? Where has he been all his life?” “Oh calm down William, you don’t know the half of it. This blessed boy pretty much had to find me.” Mr. Daunty leaned forward. “Sir, I’m all ears.” I looked at Raphi. She nodded. I started the narrative. Every horrid detail of it. Mr. Daunty interrupted me halfway. “I’m sorry Seagan. I should get someone in to take notes and all, so you won’t have to repeat this several times. These are some really painful memories.” He sent a message over the intercom. We sat silently waiting. I stared at the carpet. Didn’t dare look up. The subconscious knowledge that the heat of every gaze stood riveted to the scars on my body burned through me. It was too much to bear. An officer walked in a little while later. “Sir you…” She stopped midsentence and her writing pad slid out of her hands. “Oh my goodness.” I didn’t need to look up. I knew she was staring at my scars. I didn’t know I looked that horrid. That pitiable. I guess I had somehow grown used to my own speckled and spotted flesh. If it shocked everyone who beheld into silence, then I had a new very real fear. No, not the one about going to jail. It sank in now that I was the victim. That I didn’t need further proof. The scars were proof enough. Now I had something new to worry about. Instead of physical jail, it looks like I’ll end up forever locked in a mental and emotional jail. If this is how people would always react to seeing my back and chest, it needed a good deal of worrying over. I was marked for life.

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Philippé, that toad. He’d better be dead. *** Like a miracle, a few hours later we rolled up the driveway to Hope Ark. Irish kept her word. I didn’t end up in a jail cell. Neither did Raphi. The prison itched for someone else—Philippé Pursniketti. The Chief called the department of Children and Family Services. Philippé’s legally lost any authority he could have over me. The police are searching for him, his hulks and Yelena. His rights over the land, my mom’s bank accounts, insurance and medical care were over as well. Now I don’t have to worry about euthanasia. In spite of all the bad things in the doctor’s report, I still have the crazy idea that someday my mom and I will get to take walks. Go on road trips. Go out for dessert or just plain junk food. A second chance—to be a real family. For now, I have a new family: Hope Ark. Hope Ark turned out to be a registered institution for foster care. It doesn’t just hosts kids waiting for adoption. It’s a long-term home. A family. The department of Children and Family Services would keep checking in on me over the next two weeks to make sure I fit in. Then Irish would become my legal guardian. We’d been to the hospital. On the police chief’s insistence. Raphi and I got x-rays and all manner of tests. I know the police chief wanted to be sure that we were okay. I also know he wanted to be certain that neither of us were into substance abuse. Logical, we did live with Philippé. The hospital only confirmed what we already knew. We didn’t have any fractures or injuries, except for the wounds from the last hanger session. The inhouse medical unit did a good job with those so the hospital didn’t bother. As we walked into the living room, the aroma of good food tickled our nostrils in greeting. “See,” said Irish. “We’re home in time for dinner.” “That you are,” Dina agreed hurrying out of the kitchen with a tray of freshly baked rolls. “You know your family. The faster you get to the dining room, the better your chances of actually catching something to bite.” A bespectacled guy rushed out of the kitchen on Dina’s heels. “Go with them,” Irish nodded. “I’ll be there in a bit.” Raphi led the way. We trudged quickly after them for the unspoken fear of getting lost in the Ark’s many halls and rooms.

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The bespectacled guy slowed down. “Oh you don’t have to run. We won’t let you get lost in here. We don’t have poor manners…except at mealtimes. It’s sometimes a free for all in there. They just try to hoard the food.” “Reassemble it on different platters is more like it,” Dina huffed. “They eat too fast is what it is. They just eat too quickly.” “I’m Kyle, you must be Seagan.” I nodded. Kyle was good looking. Pop sensation handsome. Kyle looked at Raphi. “And you are?” “Raphi.” “Nice to meet you.” “Same here.” We finally came to the end of the long winding hall and it opened into the largest dining room I’d ever seen. At the table, nearly as long as the room, sat dozens of kids of all ages. The younger ones in front and the older ones at the back. The table overflowed with trays and platters and serving bowls. Not an inch of the table sat uncluttered. Raphi and I turned to each other as if on cue. Rowdy as a family of three, it all looked and felt so wonderful. It was a family of all colors. Maybe that’s why it looked so beautiful. They were so busy passing and assembling food on their plates, they took no notice of us. Until Dina cleared her throat. “Tribe, we have new family members.” The innumerable pairs of eyes round the table turned their arrested attention on us. “Meet Seagan Nott and Raphaella Tidely. Let’s give them a Hope Tribe welcome.” Chairs shuffled, plates clacked and spoons tumbled. Every single body stood up and then came the chorus. “You’re welcome! We love you, we sure are glad to have you! You’re welcome! Feel at home, share our love and share our hope! You’re welcome, it’s a new day, and you’re welcome to stay!” The room fell as silent as the former noise. All eyes laid glue to us. Granted, it all felt weird. Still, there’s something about their genuine expressions. The fact that they actually practiced lines to welcome family yet unknown. Something, that made me feel queasy and extraordinary—and nothing near cheesy. I smiled. I could see Raphi’s lips creasing at the corners too. The room broke into cheers. “Their staying! Their staying!”

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With more chair shuffling, plate clacking and spoon tumbling, every single body in the room came forward to hug, shake and pat our backs. Apparently, we just passed some tribal test. With all the hugs, shakes, and pats given and received, one final hand rested on my shoulders. It was Irish. “Don’t look so flushed.” Dina paused with a pitcher in mid-air to catch a glimpse of my face. Her telltale smile said everything. I must have looked like an air blown hen. Smiley-nosey jumped forward to explain it all. “When we give the Hope Tribal welcome we watch the newcomers. If they have a weird bizarre, ‘what is going on with these crazy people’ look, then they’re not staying for long. If they give this queasy, warm and fuzzy smile—they’re forever hope.” “It’s that simple, huh?” Raphi shrugged. Persis nodded. “They say it never fails.” It all made perfect sense to me. I loved Hope Ark by the second. By the inch, by the tie-dye of smiles. Finally, home. That’s exactly how I felt. Like the last couple of years were all one long dreary day. I’d finally come home to rest—to Hope Ark. After dinner, Dina led us to our rooms through the maze of halls and doors. It all still looked confusing. I was yet to make any sense out of it. Except to say that I could vaguely figure out the way to the front door. Raphi’s room was on the ground floor. She shared it with a librarian looking lady who wore wide rimmed spectacles and high-heeled flip-flops. A perfect match. My room was on the second floor with Kyle. The day took a toll on me and I fell asleep immediately on the bed by the window. I woke up to the sensation of a hand tugging on my feet. It was Kyle. “We have bedtime prayers in the prayer room with Irish.” I groaned. “Do I have to be there?” Kyle looked lost. “No.” Then he smiled. “But I wouldn’t skip it if I were you.” “Actually, if you were me, you would.” I rolled over and shut my eyes. I heard the door click ever so gently. I stood and paced the room. In my relief over not spending the night in jail, I’d totally forgotten about this aspect of living in Hope Ark. I don’t have anything in particular against prayer. I simply don’t have anything for it. It’s never done me any bit of good. Good thing Kyle said it’s not compulsory. Otherwise, I’d up and be on my way. It doesn’t matter where.

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‘Purify your heart.’ Ugh—the Man in the yacht, his voice echoing like the seas. I went back to bed and delved under the covers. I don’t know what that man expects of me. *** I looked up to find a shadow at my window. First unrecognizable, then slowly filling into memory. The arrogant stare. The austere sneer of his lips. Philippé in flesh and blood. He wasn’t quite dead—not dead at all. His eyes flickered. He knew I could see him—knew I was awake. With his Don Juan smile in place, he stretched out his hands to seize me by my hair. The window and its blinds were gone. He had me by my hair now. Pulling me out through the window, the midnight air hit my lungs. I struggled for gulps of air against the chilling cold and dew. Struggled to free myself from his grip. Every push against him only pulled me closer. Closer to the window. Closer to him, further from my bed. My head and shoulders were out the window now. I screamed. I could see clear through the black fog of nothingness all the way to the cold floor beneath. Kyle lay immobile. A sleeping mass on the bed. Philippé stood firmly planted by the window. Thick beams just below the windowsill supported his weight. He pulled me towards him, until we were eyeball to eyeball. My hair swinging in the wind. He shoved me downward. It was more of a crash than a fall. I felt it more than I saw. Then I could feel no more. *** I stirred to a heavenly tune slipping out of some love-filled violin somewhere. Do they play violins in heaven? The melody lilting through the air tugged on my ears. Tugged me up. I started to dust myself until I realized I was on my bed, in the room I shared with Kyle at Hope Ark. The window was back. Everything stood intact. Except, Kyle wasn’t on his bed. A dream. That’s all it was. A nightmare rather. I shrugged off my relief. I’d rather not have any such nightmares in the first place. Well if it was a nightmare, if I’m not dead and this isn’t heaven, then where did that tune come from? It was out of this world. I could hear it still. I followed my ears out of the room, down the staircase and into the maze of halls and doors. I gave no bother to getting lost. It was too late. I was lost already in that song. It

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was a soul crying out for something no one on earth could give. That sound wasn’t of this world. The tune tugged me through the halls, into the living room and through the front door. It was still dark outside, but there was nothing to fear. It was a darkness filled with song—with a rich silence and an undeniable presence. Out there stood something or someone. If I followed the song, I would find that person. I walked on, tiptoeing as I went. I wouldn’t want to frighten the person off. Neither did I want the song to end. The grass met my bare feet with earthy morning dew. I finally rounded a corner and found the song. There on a tree trunk sat Kyle playing a violin. I moved in closer so I could see his face. He shut his eyes and his face lifted up to heaven. His cheeks were moist with the tears that fell so freely from his eyes. I sat on grass and my eyes fell shut. My heart listened and my soul understood. I couldn’t tell what it was. There was something about brokenness and hope mingled bittersweet in the song. I heard it. The desperation I used to feel, when I was in the lair, with Philippé. Then I heard hope. The kind I’d started to feel yesterday in the police chief’s office. Maybe there was something good in me. I may not be as hopeless as I thought. This was a level of hope deeper than whatever I felt yesterday. An external hope. I’d always wished someone would grab me and fix me. The song whispered a ‘thank you’, to some external hope. I’d found my song. I still couldn’t trace the presence yet. It wasn’t Kyle. It certainly wasn’t me. Yet it was there. I could feel it. I could feel it like the tips of my toes. With the flurry of inexplicable things around me lately, I pondered no more. I immersed myself in the music instead. It carried me along. When Kyle played the final note, I stepped on to some peaceful riverbank. Somewhere where people like me shouldn’t go. I reveled in the sweet silence. A friendly wind blew in around us. Then I heard a soft echo. The most beautiful voice I’d ever heard. I looked up to soft light pouring out of a window. It was Irish. Stretching out of a window, she sang her heart out like a bird. I heard some other voices singing in the background. Kyle laid down his violin. “Good morning.” It was still pitch dark all around. “Morning, do you do this every day?” He shrugged. “I do this every other day.” “Are you a professional violinist or something?”

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“I only play here and at church. It’s my way of ministering to God. My offering, my sacrifice.” I didn’t get the part about ministering to God. I didn’t know God needed ministering. “Did you ever think of playing for people?” “I play for God. He enjoys it and I am satisfied.” I decided not to push any further. More likely than not, Kyle wasn’t ready to face people yet. I heard something in that song. A soul bared and exposed. I don’t think he’s ready to share that yet. He picked up his violin. “We better head back inside before you catch a chill.” Kyle wore socks, sneakers and a hooded sweater. I only had my shorts, Tshirt and bare feet. “Good idea.” He guided us to the front door and we walked in silence. The echo of Irish’s song followed us round. “Why is Irish singing?” “She’s having her devotion.” “Oh.” He plays. She sings…they might as well start a band. Kyle went straight to the prayer room where Irish and the others had devotion. The prayer room was on the same floor as mine. As Kyle went in, I caught the shadow of a certain ponytailed structure. I did a double take. Yep, it was Raphi. I shook my head and went straight to bed. I snuggled and turned in for a snooze. I hoped not to have any more nightmares…or ‘morning-mares’ as it were. The clock read five a.m. The next time I woke up, rays of sunlight pierced through the blinds. My mom first came to mind. It’s nearly been a week since my last visit to the hospital. I’m sure Irish wouldn’t mind. A knock sounded on my door. I opened it without thinking. It was Raphi. She didn’t look any pleased. “Where have you been all morning?” “Here, in my room.” “And yesterday night?” “Here as well.” “Didn’t you hear sounds from the prayer room?” Raphi pointed across the hall. “It’s only across the hall from you.” “Um Raphi, have you ever seen me pray?”

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“There’s a first time for everything.” “Well today is not going to be the first time I pray.” “You could at least attend and then decide.” “No thank you, really.” “These people have been good to us. You could at least get to know them and their faith a little better.” “I did. I heard Kyle playing his violin before sunrise this morning.” Raphi blinked. “You heard that too?” I nodded. “I followed the sound into the dark.” “And?” “I’ve never felt anything like it.” “And?” “I need time.” Raphi shook her head. “Time?” “Time to understand this. To wrap my head around it all. I can’t understand why people do evil when they could do good and be kind. I can’t understand how there could be good and evil at the same time. I can’t imagine how there could be a devil, when there is a God. I don’t get it. How can the same God who made Irish and make Philippé? ” Raphi took a deep breath. “I’ve never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to. I won’t start now. Besides, Irish and Dina don’t mind. They’re not forcing anything down anyone’s throat. I’ll pray for you Seagan, as I’ve always done. I pray He answers all your questions. In the meantime, do you also need time to wrap your head around the idea of breakfast?” I laughed. “No. Why?” “Because it’s going on in the breakfast room right now.” I heard lightly hurried chatter and the clatter of cutlery. The tempting aroma of bacon and toasts didn’t help my cause. “Well we’d better get there before all the food disappears.” Raphi barred the door with her hands. “Hey, I know you haven’t even brushed your teeth. Go clean yourself up. I’ll save you a plate.” “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” As I eased the door shut, Raphi stuck out her foot. “One more thing. These people are only good to us because they are serving a good God. They chose to be kind and good the day they chose to serve

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God. I don’t know if I’m making any sense here. Guess you could file it in there somewhere. Until everything becomes clear.” “Thanks.” Raphi nodded. When I was done, I went to the in-house medical unit to have my wounds cleaned and dressed. They’d stung a little in the shower but not nearly half as much as they used to. My skin didn’t peel anymore. The wounds started to heal. The medical team at the Ark did a beautiful job. They were professionals not jokers. A nurse appeared at the doorway. I recognized her from the previous day. She attended to me when they brought me in on a stretcher. She beamed a friendly smile. “Seagan! Come right in. How are you doing?” “I’m fine.” “Good. I can see that. I’m Goldy. I’m a nurse. I’m on most of the shifts here. You can come see me for anything. How does that sound?” “Great.” “Good. Have a seat let’s get you fixed up.” Nurse Goldy applied some mixture of balm and lotions in addition to the usual. “These will help the scars heal real quickly. If everything goes okay, the wounds might not leave any scars at all.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” She turned to replace the bottle. “Is there anything else?” “I have these awful headaches.” “For how long have you had them?” “Since the fire.” “Um, I see. Maybe you should see Doctor Newman. It’s the second door to the right.” A lady sat reading a journal when I cracked the door open. Nurse Goldy came in and handed the doctor a file with my name on it. “Have a seat Seagan. What seems to be the problem?” “I keep having these awful headaches.” Doctor Newman read the file. “Since the fire that burnt your home?” “Yes.” She scribbled on the file. “It might be stress or trauma induced. I’ll prescribe something for pain relief. If it persists come back and let me know.” “Thank you.”

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“You’re welcome. You’re welcome to come back. You can come see me if anything bothers you.” True to thought, she offered me candy as I left. Nurse Goldy still sat at her station. I needed an opportunity to act. “Um Goldy, do you have a thermometer? I think I might also have a strong fever coming on.” She moved to get the thermometer from the next cabinet. That gave me just enough time to grab some aspirin from the cabinet before me. Goldy took my temperature. “Everything seems normal in there. Maybe you just need some rest.” I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll do that.” She gave me the pain relievers. “Let me know if it continues.” When I finally sat at the breakfast table, there weren’t many people left. Raphi saved me a plate, just as she promised. The plate piled high with bacon and toasts and waffles and all the good things a tummy could want for breakfast. Irish was already at work. Dina too. A woman with ash hair cut into short bangs presided over the breakfast table. With Irish and Dina gone, I wondered how Raphi and I would get to the hospital. I missed the good old Harley. “Hi Seagan.” I looked up. It was the lady with the bangs. “Irish left instructions for Kyle or Allen to give you two a ride to the hospital when you’re ready.” It amazed me how everyone seemed to know my name in this place. I nodded. “Thank you.” “I’m Valeria. I help run the Ark whenever Dina’s away.” Valerie coordinated the meal more calmly and quietly than Dina and with apparently less effort. Kyle helped her out too. Gradually, even the dim noise cooled off and conversation fell to a barest minimum. Most kids were done with breakfast. They’d run to their rooms in search of stray homework, fighting stubborn hair strands and powdering deviant pimples. Booted feet padded towards the room and stopped. A middle-aged man with hair slightly greyed at the temples stood in the doorway taking in the room. He stood over six feet tall. Thick, sturdy and well built. I bet he’s a retired army veteran. He’s probably Hope Ark’s security detail. “The bus is good and ready to leave now. And I won’t be coming back for anyone who misses it.”

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“But Uncle Allen,” pleaded a middle grader. “I just started on my toasts.” Uncle? He drives? “Try explaining that to your principal tomorrow.” With that, Allen turned and left. In a few minutes, they all wrapped their leftovers and skipped out of the room. I, Raphi, Kyle, Valeria and Persis were the only ones left. Perhaps in the entire Ark. The whole building fell silent. I turned to Valeria. “The bus service doesn’t come to Hope Ark?” “No it doesn’t. We’re way out of their route, so we run our own bus service.” She laughed. “There’s so many of us, we’d probably need a bus to ourselves. Besides, the kids don’t attend school in the same districts and some are in private schools.” “Oh.” I sneaked a peak at Persis through the corner of my eye. I wondered why she wasn’t in school with the other kids. Valeria caught my eye and smiled. “Persis just got here. She comes all the way from Iran.” I looked her over. “You’re Iranian?” Persis nodded. “Iranian American.” Well that explains it. The foreign air and the cute Persian-Arab accent. That didn’t explain the hyperactive excitement though. Kyle stood. He started collecting dirty dishes and clearing the table. Raphi and Persis joined him and I followed. There wasn’t much to do though, all the kids tried to clean up after themselves. That’s Ark policy. While we worked, Valeria made up a grocery list. As soon as we were done, she handed Kyle keys to a van. “Drop me and Persis off at the mall. Then you can take Raphi and Seagan to Everett’s hospital.” Raphi quirked her brows. “You go to the mall for grocery shopping?” “First we’re going shopping for Persis. She only made it out with a few items. After that, we’ll go grocery shopping.” “Oh.” Raphi nodded. I tried not to but finally couldn’t resist taking a closer look at Persis. I noticed her clothes were loose from wear. They were also a bit faded. You really wouldn’t notice at first glance. She kept them very neat. Then I noticed that she noticed I was noticing. She suddenly seemed self-conscious and slid behind Valeria. She stayed that way even in the van. She made sure to sit at the back and far away from me. When we dropped them off at the mall, she couldn’t get off

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the van fast enough. I took my mind off her strange behavior when the van headed for Everett’s hospital. My thoughts turned to my mom. The usual anxieties and longings sprouted. I wished she would just open her eyes and look at me. I haven’t smiled at her in years. Not since Philippé came into our lives. She let him in. I never seemed able to forgive her for that. Even now. Still, I managed to push those feelings back. I needed some sign of life from her. Anything at all. A twitch, a sneeze or a smile. Anything would do. That’s all that really mattered right now. It’s been almost four months since the accident. The oxygen mask remained the only connection between my mother and me. Between my mother and life. It’s her umbilical cord. There is no way I’m pulling it. I won’t let anybody do that to her either. I don’t care what it cost. I’d already started looking for jobs. I’d lost every right to the diamonds. It’s part of the legal deal. When the police catch Yelena, all the diamonds are going back to the Royal British Society of Geology. Repatriation they called it. At the end of it, my freedom wasn’t that free. It came with a cost, but doesn’t it always? Now I wondered what it would cost to get my mom off that bed and back on her feet. If it has a price tag, I sure wouldn’t be able to afford it. We arrived at the hospital all too soon. Sure, I looked forward to seeing my mom. I dreaded it all the same. The powerlessness of it. The helplessness of watching her waste away. The inability to help her. Did she feel the same? Did she feel that way when Philippé abused me? Did she watch in dread of her helplessness? We stood by her bedside, Raphi and I, silently wondering if there would be an end to this. What that end would look like. Would we mourn or would we laugh? Whatever the end—I’ll wait for it. I won’t run or take any easy way out. I’ll wait and when the end comes, I’ll be there. Her knight in shining armor. Either way this journey tips, I’ll be at the ends of them both. I took her hands in mine. “I’ll be here.” I said. “I’ll never leave you. I’ll be your knight in shining armor. When you get better, because I know you will get better, we will be a real family again. Because now, we’re free from Philippé. Totally free.” I felt a throb surge through her hands. “And don’t you worry about the diamonds. The police are repatriating them and they’ll pardon you. See, everything is finally working for us. And soon as you wake up, we’re going to be normal again.” A felt a scratch in my palm. “Raphi, her index finger, it just twitched!”

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Raphi stared at her hands. Then it happened again. It was just a slight sharp curve and then the finger went limp again. “Quick, call a nurse.” Raphi ran out of the room. It was just what I needed—a miracle! A miracle. A miracle for my mom. I didn’t ever dare believe in miracles before now. Then, if I could end up at Hope Ark all safe, secure and happy with all the legal ends all tidied up, then yes, I will always keep my antenna open. Anything can happen. Including miracles. Especially miracles. Raphi returned literally dragging in a nurse by her arm. “Her finger’s twitching.” I explained. That apparently didn’t impress the nurse any. She went on reading mom’s vitals like thanksgiving turkey. “It’s twitching again!” I cried. The nurse’s expression didn’t flicker. “I’ll be right back.” She said. She came back a few seconds later with a doctor. The same doctor who first treated her on the day of the accident. I remembered his face. He quickly examined mom. Another doctor came in while he was at it. The doctors asked Raphi and me to leave. A few minutes later, the doctors came out. I held my breath. My hope floated high. “We do not have any conclusive evidence of significant improvement in your mom’s recovery. We will run a test however, and we’ll inform you of the results through your new guardian.” Somehow, all those words were lost on me. I only wanted to hear a few vital ones and I hadn’t heard any. “Is there any chance my mom could ever be active again?” The doctor smiled. “Certainly not like Hussein Bolt.” I couldn’t find it funny. The doctor cleared his throat. “Not much has changed. There is a slight little chance but we wouldn’t want to raise your hopes for nothing. Like we said, we will contact your guardian.” “Won’t you need an address?” “Already have one.” The doctor flipped through sheets on a clipboard. “Irish McCarrie is your guardian. Hope Ark, Broken Arrow?” I nodded.

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“She was here to see your mother earlier today.” Raphi and I turned to each other. We’re never off Irish’s mind. No matter how busy she seemed to be. “We’ll let you know what we find.” Raphi nodded. “Thank you, very much.” I returned to mom’s room before leaving the hospital. As I bent to peck her cheeks, I whispered in her ears. “I’ll never give up on you.” Maybe it was just my imagination but I most certainly saw the ghost of a smile flicker across her face. Kyle waited for us in the parking lot. “How’s she doing?” “Her finger flickered.” He smiled. “That’s great news. Did you tell the doctors?” “Yeah, they said they’ll run tests to see if there are any improvements. But they’re not being generous with their hope.” “Well, you should pack enough hope to go round.” The van rolled out of the parking lot and into the street. “Valeria called a while ago, they’re shopping for groceries. We’ll go help them finish up.” By the time we got to the grocery mart, Persis and Valeria already had three full shopping carts waiting to load in the van. There were seven carts in all by the time we were done. There was just enough space left in the van to sit and rest our feet. When we pulled out of the mart, I noticed we went in an opposite direction than the direction of the Ark. “Where are we going?” “Urhlin—McCarrie,” Valeria explained. “We’re going to Irish’s office.” When we pulled up in front of the high rise building in the heart of Tulsa, it confirmed everything I knew about Irish’s legal practice. From the front desk to the reception, from the wide spacious offices to the large conference room, Urhlin—McCarrie is every lawyer’s American dream. I know because my mom’s spent all her life burying herself at it, trying to become a senior partner. I know, even though I tried to pretend she didn’t exist. With all the money we just paid in groceries, I tried to figure out how much it cost to run the Ark every year. Only a millionaire can bear the cost. A millionaire like Irish McCarrie. But why would anyone want to spend all that hard-earned money rescuing total strangers? What’s in it for her?

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I filed that in there, with all those other things my brain couldn’t wrap around for now. Valeria led us straight to Dina’s office. Dina’s a paralegal at Urhlin—McCarrie. She’s also Irish’s personal assistant. “Wow, don’t you all look a little tired.” Persis nodded. “We filled seven entire shopping carts with groceries.” Dina smiled. “That’s some of the sacrifice that goes into making the Ark a home. Isn’t it worth it?” How could I disagree? Dina led us into Irish’s office. The rug was so plush our feet didn’t make any noise at all. She opened another door hidden behind a curtain. “This is Irish’s time out room. This is where she prays, has lunch, takes naps and well, things like that. Since she’s out meeting with a client, you can help yourselves to the fridge until she returns. There’s a microwave by that corner along with plates, cups, serviettes and cutlery. Enjoy.” I sank into the softest sofa ever as the door clicked shut. Raphi, Persis, and Kyle dug into the fridge passing goodies out to Valeria and me. We ate to our satisfaction and stretched out on the soft sofas. Valeria stood after a while. Glancing at her wristwatch, she tapped Kyle’s shoulder. “We’d better be going if we want to have lunch ready by the time the kids get back.” I groaned. I didn’t want to leave. Valeria noticed. “Oh not you guys. You’re here to have a meeting with Irish. We only came to drop you off.” Raphi stood up to leave as well. Kyle shook his head. “You’ll have to wait Raphi. You’re meeting with Irish too.” “Oh.” Raphi sat back down. Valeria waved. “See you all back at home.” “Okay.” We didn’t have long to wait. We heard din voices in the office. One of them Dina’s. The door swung open. Dina smiled. “She’s back.” Past Dina, I could see Irish and another lawyer going over a file by the window. Both of them looked copied and pasted off the front page of a Wall Street Journal. We filed out into the office. Irish smiled. “I see we have company,” said the other lawyer.

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“Yes,” said Irish. “Seagan, Persis, Raphi, meet Michael Urhlin. Michael meet Seagan Nott, Persis Finch and Raphaella Tidely.” “Ah, new Arkites.” Michael smiled and shook each of us in turn. “Nice to meet you.” Irish motioned for us to sit. “Michael’s my partner in the firm. I wouldn’t be able to pull off half my stunts without him. Especially when it comes to the legal aspects of running the Ark.” Michael raised his hands in protest. “She’s being too modest about herself.” “I’m not the one city hall calls ‘Van Damme.’” Michael laughed. “Whatever Irish. I’ll leave you to it.” He left and Dina followed. Irish sat at a big mahogany desk penciling things over some files. “How has your day been?” “Good.” We nodded. “Um.” She continued to scribble. “How’s your mother doing Seagan?” “I think she’s getting better. Her finger twitched today. Three times. The doctors are going to run tests for brain activity. She might not be brain dead after all.” “That’s wonderful.” She didn’t look up. “They also said you were at the hospital this morning.” “They must have said quite a lot.” Persis piped in. “Irish prayed for your mother this morning in the prayer room.” My ears pricked. “She did?” “Yeah, I heard her.” I turned to Irish “Did you pray for my mom?” Irish looked up briefly. “Yes, we all did.” Raphi’s eyes met mine. They held the silently accusing ‘told you so’. I expected Irish to ask me why I wasn’t at the devotion. Any minute now. “How did your shopping go Persis?” Irish continued penciling without looking up. “Did you find anything you liked?” “Yes!” Persis beamed. “There were lots of things I liked! Thank you Irish.” “You’re welcome.” Irish didn’t take her eyes off the files. That was the end of the prayer talk. At least for now. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Even annoyed with myself that I felt any pressure to explain myself in the first place.

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Silence reigned while Irish finished setting her files in order. When she was done, she rang for a paralegal. “Yes Ms. McCarrie?” “Please send these over to Michael.” “Straight away Ms. McCarrie.” The paralegal left. Irish apologized. “Sorry about that, I don’t intend to waste your time.” She stood and paced the rug in front of us. “Whenever someone joins us at the Ark, we have this little discussion. We get to know each other better. It’s not enough to stay at Hope Ark. We have to know what you want, the things you hope for, what you want to become. That way, we can come up with a plan. Together we’ll grow as a family. If anything we agree on changes, we can always tweak our plans to fit. Does that make any sense?” We all nodded. “I’ve already had this discussion with you,” Irish nodded at Persis. “Still we have a few details to resolve, correct?” Persis nodded. “Correct.” “Let’s start with you first, when we’re done. I’ll speak with Raphi and then Seagan you’ll come last.” With that, Irish opened the door to the time out room and motioned for Persis to follow. Raphi turned to me the moment the door clicked shut. “What are you going to ask for?” “Help with mom’s medical bills. I could work here to earn some money. I could clean and mop and stuff like that. I could work at the Ark too.” I didn’t have to think about it. Nothing else mattered as much to me right now. “I just want to salvage the wreck of our family. Whatever piece of it that’s leftover. For that I need mom.” “That’s fine. I thought as much. They’ve given us food, shelter and family. I don’t think we have the right to ask for anything more.” I didn’t dare to disagree. I could only hope that Irish would help us. She visited the hospital this morning. That’s a good sign isn’t it? That means there’s hope, right? That she cares. She wouldn’t visit if she didn’t. No, the matter isn’t if she cares. Care is her middle name. No, it’s a matter of money. Could she afford to add mom’s medical bills to her already overflowing plate of responsibilities? Money has embarrassed the most caring heart. Then

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how long would it take mom to recover? Maybe years or decades. Unless I won the lottery, mom’s healthcare would be at the mercy of Irish McCarrie. I started at a tap on my shoulder. It was Persis. Raphi was in the time out room already. I’d been so lost in my worries. Persis peered hard at me. “Are you all right?” “I’ll be fine.” “How are your wounds healing?” “Fine.” They turned out not to be as bad as they felt. I only needed professional treatment. Already healing nicely, they would leave little to no scarring. Thanks to the in-house medical team at the Ark. Persis stood by the window staring at the busy town below. I wondered what went through her head. Sometimes she seemed without a care in the world. Other times, she seemed far—far away in a past worse than my own. I wondered what she did in Iran before Irish found her. I wonder how Irish found her. She obviously didn’t have any immediate family to look back on. The way she embraced Hope Ark, it was all she had. Isn’t that all of it? That’s everyone’s story. I don’t suppose anyone in the Ark has family elsewhere. Not even Irish herself. I guess that’s why we have each other. Another tap fell on my shoulder. It was Raphi. Her eyes fell on the open door of the time out room. “Your turn.” Irish sat sipping a bottle of water as I closed the door behind me. I sat facing her on the other end of the couch. She sat back and watched me. Waiting for me to speak. “I know you’ve done a lot for Raphi and me. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I’m asking for a favor. For my mom, not for me. All I’m asking for is help with her medical bills and everything that has to be done till she gets better.” Irish smiled and regarded me with a kind look. “That goes without being said. What do you want? What do you want for yourself?” “I want to work for you. I could clean. I could mop and well, I’ll do anything. Mow the lawn at the Ark. I’ll do anything you ask me to.” Irish shook her head. “I mean what do you want for now and the future? Do you want to be a baseball player or an astronaut? Do you want to play football or teach at an Ivy League college? What do you want to be? What’s your American dream?”

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My dream? I’ve had so many nightmares. I’ve nearly forgotten how to dream. Now my dream? That’s a page so dusty and unused it nearly didn’t exist anymore. Still yes, somewhere behind the fog and curtain of cobwebs I remember wanting to be a surgeon, that’s what my dad was. Now? “I want to be a lawyer.” Irish didn’t seem startled at all. “For your mom?” “For my mom.” Irish jotted something down. “You know the school year just started today right?” “I know.” “Good. I’m thinking it would be better for you to attend school entirely out of this environment. You have to attend a new school, that’s for sure. Now that we’re uncertain about Philippé and the threat he may pose to you, I’m actually considering that school in Australia.” “But it’s—” “Expensive? I know that Seagan. The principal, Laudé Burdenéy, is a friend of mine. I’m well aware of the costs. I schooled there myself.” That shut me up. “Besides, I’m also considering having Persis there as well. She is in a similar situation. I travel a lot. I’d rest safer if both of you were away and under the care of Ms. Burdenéy. Well out of harm’s way. ” The logic made sense. Still, it couldn’t relieve me of the feeling that Irish was trying to get rid of me. Dumping me in Australia. Far from Raphi, far from my mom. The only people who really mattered to me right now. “No. I don’t want to go.” “Why? Right now I can’t think of a safer place for you to be.” Then it struck me. Who was I to think that Irish McCarrie would want to spend all that money on me? On my mom? Once I’m in Australia, she may never call or talk to me again. She could abandon me in the Australian desert. No one would ever know. No one would look for me. No one would care. Except for Raphi. I would never see Hope Ark again. Then who knows what would become of my mom. “You’re trying to get rid of me.” “Why would I want to do that? I’ve only just met you.” “You think I’m a crazy loser just like everyone else.” “Trying to get rid of you? Is that why I took you to the police station? Is that why I’ve begun the process to become your legal guardian? Is that why I’ve

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arranged for you to buy some new clothes tomorrow? Are these the things people do for people they want to get rid of? Is this how Philippé tried to get rid of you?” That last question stung. No this is certainly not the way Philippé would try to get rid of me. Left to Philippé, I’d be dead already. Irish tugged my hand. “What is it? Why exactly are you afraid? Are you afraid of the future? Stability? Are you scared of finally having a life free from abuse? What is it?” I could only stare back at her. Yes. I was afraid. It all sounded too good to be true. Like I would blink and this fairytale would be over. The nightmares would resume. I couldn’t say exactly why. Still the fear was there. What wasn’t there to be afraid of? I know how life goes and it’s never fair. At least not to me. Philippé stole everything that ever mattered to me, right under my nose. He pulled out every bare comfort from under my feet. Yes. I’m entitled to every vibe of suspicion in my bones. Irish smiled. A smile that dripped with pity. “Let me tell you something Seagan, there’s a real thief coming. The thief comes.” I knew it. I blinked. My ears pricked. I skipped a beat. “A thief? A real thief? A thief worse than Philippé?” Philippé murdered my dad. He nearly killed my mom, he scarred me, burnt down my house and now I’ve given up the diamonds. All because of him. “Who could possibly be worse than Philippé? What do I have that anyone could want? What could anyone want with me now? I’ve lost everything.” Irish sighed. “Oh you think you’ve lost everything?” She rubbed her temples. “No. You have not. You have something a real thief wants. The thief is not after your fancy house. He doesn’t care about your clothes or gadgets. He doesn’t want your diamonds, no. “He will give you all those things and more if it will get him what he really wants. The real thief comes and he’s after your future, he wants your hope. To steal your soul. “The real thief wants to see you crippled and bent over. Bowed down in frustration. He wants you to give up on yourself. For that, he needs you to give up on God and the people God’s brought into your life to help you. He needs you to believe that you’ve messed up so many times that you could never get it right. Then you would stop trying and just sink into a miserable life that looks like hell on earth. An uninterrupted nightmare.

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“Now, you’re not half the young man I thought you were if you’re already throwing in the towel. He came for your father, he came for your mother and now he’s after you. There’s a real thief coming Seagan and his name is not Philippé Pursniketti.” “I’m not scared of any thief!” The venom in my voice scared even me. I could hear the humming of the fridge and the distant sound of horns blaring below. It was silent without. A storm within. I tried to wrap my brain around all Irish said. Along with everything else previously muddled up in my mind. I’ve never ever hoped for much. I’d never given thought to a future—my future or any future at all. I was preoccupied with surviving Philippé and hating my mother. It consumed me every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week and every month. Life slipped by and I’d only just realized it because Irish pointed it out. Well, gone are the days. I can’t live in anyone’s shadow anymore. No one could make me give up on myself. Not while my mom still breathed. As for God and people, that’s another cupcake. I’ll take people as they come. First on suspicious radar until they proved otherwise. God? I’ll know what to do with Him when I finally become convinced that He actually exists. “There. That’s it!” I stood and paced the room. “I’m done with letting other people rule my life. No one’s going to determine what I do—not Philippé or that other thief. No one. I want to be in charge of my life, for once. I know I don’t have things all figured out yet. Still I want to try.” I looked at Irish. She stared back unblinking, unfazed. “All my life, things happened to me that I could not control. Things happened to my dad, and then my mom and we couldn’t do anything about it. Now I want to be in charge. I don’t want to lose my mom. I need to be near her. I can’t leave her all by herself. Don’t you understand? That’s all I really want.” Irish shrugged. “Now that you’re in charge, what do you want?” “I want to stay here. Close to my mom. Close to the Ark.” “You don’t want to go to the Wild Oasis?” “Certainly not.” “You will stay on at the Ark?” “Yes. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll do laundry, grocery shopping, wash the car and clean the garage but I won’t pray.” “I won’t ask you to pray.” “Good,” I sighed. “I wouldn’t, even if you asked.” “There won’t be any asking.”

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“Perfect.” “I can pray for you, can’t I?” “Certainly. As much as you’d want.” Irish nodded. “Perfect. Anything else?” “You will take care of my mother won’t you, even though I won’t pray?” Irish walked to the window and looked down on the town below. “Definitely. You certainly weren’t very polite or ‘nice’ the first day I met you. Didn’t stop me from helping you anyway.” “Then why did you do it?” Irish spread out her hands. “It’s never between you and me. It’s between me and God.” “You’re doing all this for God?” Irish nodded. “I don’t understand.” “Someday you will. Is there anything else?” “No.” “There’s nothing you haven’t told me that I need to know?” There was something. But she didn’t need to know it. She might want to, but she certainly didn’t need to. I had it under control. “Okay.” Irish opened the door. I’d half expected her to throw me out of the Ark when I told her I wasn’t interested in her God. Her reaction was opposite. She had no reaction. She still smiled at me same as she smiled at Persis, Dina and Kyle. “Irish?” She turned. “Yes, Seagan?” “Thank you. For everything.” “You’re welcome.” Then a thought struck me. “And Irish?” “Yes?” “Would you pray for my mom?” In case her prayers were any good, there was a slight chance her prayer had something to do with my mom’s response today. The first ever. A miracle. Irish smiled. “Certainly.” ***

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By the time we got back to the Ark, lunch was over. Thankfully, Irish already treated us to lunch at a fancy Japanese restaurant. Something else had Hope Tribe all knotted up and excited. Well someone else, I should say. A little girl, pretty as peaches and wearing a horrific blond wig sat in the center of the living room to the adoration of the whole house. The living room packed tight even though Hope Ark’s living room was five times the size of an average living room. I saw some adult faces I’d never seen before. Even Irish stood rooted in admiration of the little bundle who couldn’t be more than seven years old. Persis gasped. “Oh it’s Bellie. She’s back!” The way she announced it you’d think Bellie’s an angel who could suddenly mount wings and flutter away. “What’s with that silly wig?” A collective gasp rang out. Persis covered her face with her palm as heads turned in our direction. Maybe I’d been a little too loud. Even Raphi gave me the look that accused me of being insensitive. Irish didn’t turn but I couldn’t doubt that she wasn’t any bit pleased. The odd bundle in the middle of the living room stood up. She climbed up her chair and waved at me. “Hello, can you see me Sir?” “Yes.” I rolled my eyes. I knew what she was about to do. I waited for her to make me feel more stupid and insensitive. All eyes returned fixed once more to her. She continued. “I know this wig is monstrous.” She pointed at the wig and then she pulled it off. I nearly had a fit. She did the opposite. Made a fool of herself. “I can’t help but wear stuff like this because as you can see, I don’t have any hair. All my hair fell off after I started chemotherapy.” My tongue all but went numb. “Chemotherapy? As in—” “Cancer? Yes. That’s what’s with the wig.” You could hear a feather float to the ground in that quiet living room. “Do you understand?” “Yes,” I nodded. “Now where was I?” Bellie climbed off the chair and sat to continue a hilarious description of how Dina’s cookies looked like a rainbow compared to hospital food that resembled stormy clouds.

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I stared at the bubbly little wonder. She was quite an animated piece of work. Cancer notwithstanding. I started to compare myself to Bellie. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold up beside her. I fell short. If I had cancer, I’d be dead already. Not necessarily from the disease itself, no, I’d just die of the stress and hopelessness. Still, there sat Bellie shining like a rainbow shooting out of a thundercloud. She almost made my life look worriless. I couldn’t bear to stay in that room any minute more. I climbed to the top of the staircase and peeked down. I sat there, waiting for a chance to do what I knew I must. I slept off and woke up to the sound of laughter. I looked down. The lights in the living room were dim. It was empty. Bellie was gone. I’d missed my chance. I recognized the voices as coming from the dining room. I descended the staircase and traced the sound through the maze of halls and doors to the dining room. There she sat. Right next to Irish, Bellie stayed for dinner. I hadn’t missed my chance after all. I couldn’t let anything go wrong with my new family. They opened their arms and hearts to Raphi and me. I couldn’t spoil it for either of us. They were all we had. Irish looked up. Instead of the scowl I expected, I received a gentle smile. Patient but genuine. Raphi and Persis parted to reveal a spot at the table. I sat down, eventually loosening up enough to laugh at Bellie’s jokes. When dinner was over, we all followed Bellie and her parents to where their car sat parked in the driveway. It was an old little thing. The best of its days were long behind it. It made Mrs. O’Dell’s pinkie look a glamor machine. I seized my opportunity to tug Bellie behind the car, away from everyone else. “Listen Bellie, I’m sorry about what I said about your wig. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. You’re quite a surprise. And well, I never thought you could…be sick…like my mom.” Bellie tilted her head at a curious angle. “Like your mom? Does your mother have cancer too?” “No. She…she doesn’t have cancer. She’s unconscious and vegetative and paralyzed at the hospital.” She patted my cheek. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Her eyes glimmered near tears. “No. I’m not trying to make you cry. I just wanted to apologize. To tell you that I’m sorry. That you shouldn’t stop being the way you are because seeing you gives me hope for my mother and me.”

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“Thank you.” Bellie smiled. “What’s your name? You know we started on a wrong note. We never got a proper introduction.” “I’m Seagan.” “Seagan who?” “Seagan Nott.” “Nice to meet you Seagan Nott. I’m BelleLindsey Franklin. My friends call me Bellie.” I struck out a hand. “Nice to meet you too.” “Can I give you a hug?” I bent over. Bellie squeezed her spindly little arms round my neck and pecked my cheeks. In that brief moment invaded by her peaches and rosebud aura, I felt some of what it was like to have a little sister. It wasn’t all as horrible as some made it sound. “Ah, that’s so cute.” Giggles followed. I stood to find Dina, Irish, Bellie’s parents and all of Hope Ark watching us. Dina patted my back. “It was nice of you to apologize Seagan.” “Yep,” Bellie chirped as she climbed into the car. “Now you don’t have to worry about buying him soap or bath gel or anything.” Dina’s brows wrinkled. “Why?” “Because I pecked him and he’s never going to wash his face ever again. Right Seagan?” Everyone broke out laughing. I was grateful for the darkness hiding the blush creeping up my spine. We stood back and waved as Bellie’s dad pulled out of the garage. Irish squeezed my shoulder on one side. Dina squeezed my shoulder on the other. Everyone smiled at me as we made our way in out of the cold evening air. Without a word, Irish and Dina left my side to attend to other matters. I caught Raphi’s eye as I climbed the staircase to my room. She nodded. I’d finally started doing things right. Maybe I wouldn’t disappoint the Ark after all. I could fit in. I could stay. Finally accepted into the society of respectable folk—on equal footing. I could still feel need lurking in me. The need masking my pain and hatred these past years. I wondered if I could keep on hiding it. I hope that I can. Raphi doesn’t know a thing about it and she’s lived with me for years. Irish is different. Her probing eyes that seem to know everything. Knocking down secrets and solving mysteries. I saw it that first day. A knowing suspicion. Now I can only count how long before my secret comes out. Before I find myself

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homeless and with nowhere to go. Kicked out of the society of respectable folk.

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DO YOU WANT TO HEAR THE REST OF SEAGAN’S STORY? Follow me on Facebook @ Miracle Writes: https://www.facebook.com/MMiracleWrites/ The full-length novel is due for release on November 20, 2016! Price: $0 Be sure to like and follow the page for a link to download the free e-book. Also, you can write to me at [email protected] and have your copy delivered straight to your inbox. Simply email me with the title: “The Thief Comes PDF” OR “The Thief Comes EPUB.” I look forward to your comments and feedback. Don’t forget to share with friends and family.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR MIRACLE MMUOKEBE is a follower of Christ, daughter, author and lawyer—in that order. When she isn’t writing or working, she also enjoys photo bombing, making her friends laugh until they cry, making cornbread and pretending to be Irish McCarrie.