Salvaged: A Love Story

  “And?”

  “And they’re all into stuff that I’m not into. I realize I was out of it most of last year, but I don’t remember everyone around me being so promiscuous. From the way Anne makes it sound, she and I are in the minority—big-time minority. It sounds like everyone is having sex or wants to or have basically done everything but. Some guy even tried to seduce her at a party once. I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with all that. I’m already a freak and an outsider; what are they going to do when they find out I’m also a major prude? I feel like I’m walking into a lions’ den and everyone’s going to be ready to pounce. I’m not going to fit in, I know it.”

  “It’s never been easy to do the right thing. Ask anyone who’s done it.”

  I nodded, although I wanted to cry. Hearing him say that doing the right thing wasn’t easy wasn’t helping my situation or relieving my anxiety in any way.

  “Do you remember the story of Daniel from the Bible?” he asked.

  “Daniel? Was he the one who was thrown into the lions’ den?”

  “Yes. The story seems appropriate seeing as how that’s where you feel you’re heading. Do you remember what happened to him?”

  I thought back to a coloring page that I’d been given in Sunday school when I was little. It was a picture of a man dressed in a robe, and he was sitting on the floor with a big smile on his face as he petted two lions. I remember wishing that I could pet a lion and right then and there decided that when I became a vet I would take care of lions and other zoo animals.

  “Nothing,” I finally answered. “Nothing happened to him.”

  “Why not?”

  “God sent an angel that closed the lions’ mouths. When they pulled him out, he hadn’t been injured at all. The lions hadn’t touched him.”

  “That’s right. He’d called out to God, and God protected him. Now, I can’t guarantee you that when you walk through the halls at school people won’t say bad things about you or accuse you of things that aren’t right or fair. But what I can promise you is that I’ll walk through those doors with you and that I won’t leave you alone—ever. I’ll protect you, Attie; I’ll protect your spirit. Nothing they say or do can have an effect on you unless you let it.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Do you feel any better about it?”

  “Yes, a little.” It still bothered me to know that Riley was just like the other kids, but there was no sense in mentioning it. That was between Riley and Jesus, not Riley, Jesus, and me. I was pretty sure that Jesus was aware of the situation, and he didn’t need me bringing it up.

  “As time goes on you’re going to have a lot of questions about those kinds of things, and I don’t ever want you to think it isn’t safe to talk to me about them. Trust me, there isn’t anything you can say that I haven’t heard before—or worse.”

  “That’s good to know.” He was right. I was sure there’d be plenty of things I had questions about or complaints that I wanted to file with him. As a matter of fact, one was burning in my mind as we sat there, and although it was a much lighter subject, it still weighed heavily on my mind.

  “Why didn’t you give me bigger boobs?” I asked.

  “If the man we have picked out for you wanted that, my Father would have given them to you.”

  “Most boys like big boobs,” I pouted.

  “Most boys don’t know what they want, let alone need,” he replied. “At least until they’re twenty-five or so.”

  “Does that mean I’ll be waiting until I’m twenty-five to get a date?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy got together when she was about my age. So did Anne and Gilbert from Anne of Green Gables.”

  “Back then they also died when they were forty.” His sarcasm wasn’t helping to improve my mood. “Look, you shouldn’t worry so much about what boys think of you anyway. No one can love you like I can. My love is pure, complete, and unconditional. You’re precious and you’re perfect—just the way you are. Just the way you were created.”

  “Thanks a lot.” I wasn’t being sincere, but at that moment all I wanted to do was end the conversation. I knew what he was saying was truth, but there was still that part of me that wished that someone—some human—would think I was beautiful.

  “And by the way, you are beautiful.” He’d read my mind.

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  “Attie, even when you find that boy who believes you’re beautiful and falls head over heels in love with you, the love won’t be perfect. It will be flawed, just like the boy who gives it.”

  “I understand.” Disgusted with myself, I shook my head. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll just become a nun or something. That way I don’t have to deal with any of this. Do you see a convent in my future?”

  “I’m not a fortune teller.”

  “I know, it would just be nice to have a clue about my life in the future.”

  “Okay, Attie, I never do this—”

  I leaned close to him. “Do what?”

  “Tell people about their future.”

  “You’re going to tell me about my future?”

  He nodded. “Part of it.”

  “Sweet!”

  “Oh, I don’t know if you can handle it.” He enjoyed teasing me. “Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.”

  “Oh yes, you should,” I squealed.

  Jesus was about to reveal part of his master plan, and I was like a dog with a steak in front of it. I was practically salivating at the prospect of getting a glimpse into my future.

  Jesus glanced around as if to make sure that no one was eavesdropping, and for some reason I did the same.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “Tell me already,” I begged. “I can’t stand the suspense.”

  “Okay, here goes. You … ”

  I hung on the word.

  “ … are not going to be a nun.”

  “What? That’s it? I’m not going to be a nun, that’s the big news?” My disappointment was evident.

  Jesus shrugged. “Hey, you asked and it’s better than nothing.”

  “An old maid?”

  “No. Go to bed, Attie. You’re tired and you’re talking foolishly.”

  “Don’t I always? Talk foolishly I mean.”

  “Not all the time—just much of it. It’s one of the many things I love about you. Now go to sleep.”

  Mom glanced over at me from the driver’s seat. “You girls are so funny. I’m glad you’re together for another summer.”

  “It’s just Attie, Mrs. Reed. She makes me seem funnier,” Melody said, laughing from the backseat. She leaned toward the front of the car so she could join the conversation. “Oh look! It’s Meg Patton and her new baby. She just had it and she’s only seventeen.” Melody pointed out my window, and I turned to look at the girl. The new mother pushed a baby carriage and talked to a woman who was walking beside her.

  “She’s a cute girl.” Mom’s voice sounded sweet.

  I turned to talk to them, but a scream escaped my throat instead.

  Everything became dark. Muffled sounds filled my ears, but I wasn’t able to make sense of them. I wanted to move but couldn’t; something held me down, and a sharp pain throbbed in my stomach.

  My hearing returned to normal, but nothing made sense.

  “Get them out of the car!”

  “Help me grab her. Hurry! Her arm is stuck; I can’t get her out.”

  There was more screaming from many different voices, but they were being drowned out by crackling and popping sounds.

  “Attie!” Mom screamed. “Melody! Get them out first! Please get the girls out!”

  My body was being to
rn apart, and my stomach felt as if it exploded. The pain was excruciating, and I was aware that I was dying.

  Mom continued to appeal to anyone who would listen. “Somebody, please!”

  “Mom?” My vision was murky, but I could see her face. It was bloody, and her eyes were large and full of fear.

  Her voice calmed. “Get out of the car, Attie.” Her words sounded crisp and clear.

  I looked into the backseat in search of Melody and found her lying covered in blood in a twisted heap on the floor. I turned my attention back to my mother and out of the corner of my eye saw fire.

  “Get out, Attie!”

  “Mom?”

  Everything went dark.

  chapter 7

  (Riley)

  I jolted out of bed at the sound of someone screaming, and it only took a second to realize the scream came from Attie.

  I threw sweatpants on over my boxers and sprinted to her room. Throwing on the bedroom light, I found her sitting on the floor screaming for her mother and Melody. Her eyes were closed, her fists were tight, and her body was shaking.

  Running to her, I knelt down, grabbed her shoulders, and gave her a gentle shake. She needed to wake up and end the nightmare. “Attie, wake up, Attie.”

  Her eyes finally opened, but she looked up at me as if she didn’t know me at all.

  “You’re all right.” I tried to sound reassuring. “You’re not alone. I’m here; you’re safe.”

  My parents came charging up the stairs behind me and stopped in the doorway. They both looked terrified.

  “Is she all right?” Dad asked in a breathless voice.

  I held out my hand signaling for them to stay back. “Yes, it was a nightmare. She’s all right; she just needs to sleep. Go back downstairs. We’ll be fine.”

  They stood back and watched as Attie shivered in my arms. Seeing her gripped in fear was agony for them.

  Attie’s eyes focused on me. “Riley?”

  “Yes.” Sitting down, I pulled her onto my lap. “I’m here.”

  “I almost didn’t recognize you.” Her voice was tired and soft. “Why are you calling me Attie?”

  “’Cause you scared me to death and I couldn’t think straight, that’s why.”

  Mom rushed over, wrapped us in a blanket, and then kissed Attie on the top of the head.

  “It’s okay, Mom. Go on, you don’t need to watch this,” I urged quietly. “Go downstairs.”

  Dad started to take a step into the room but stopped himself. After staring at Attie for a moment, he finally walked into the room for the first time since Melody’s death. He gently pulled Mom away from us, and then the two of them slowly went back downstairs. My mother wailed all the way down the stairs.

  I rocked back and forth in an effort to soothe Attie back into a deep sleep, but just as she started to fall asleep, her eyes opened again and looked up at me. “You aren’t trying to seduce me, are you?” Her voice was hushed and her words sounded mumbled. “Anne said you seduce girls and have a lot of sex.”

  Well, that explained the phone conversation I overheard.

  “No, I’m not.” I laughed. “I don’t.”

  “I’m not like that,” she muttered.

  “I know you’re not.” I instinctively stroked her cheek with my fingers, and the more I caressed her soft skin, the more she relaxed in my arms. “I’m not like that either, Charlie. I’m not.”

  “You called me Charlie.” A small smile inched across her face. “You really are Riley; I thought that was you.”

  “Of course.”

  “I haven’t been kissed.” Her mumbling made her difficult to understand. “That makes me a freak.”

  I looked into her tired eyes. “You’re not a freak. You’re wonderful; now go to sleep.”

  Her eyes closed, but after a few moments she opened them again. “Help me stay awake.” Her voice trembled. “I’m afraid.”

  Tears ran down my cheeks, and the speed of my rocking increased as I protectively pulled her closer to me. “You’re already asleep. I’m right here.” My voice cracked. “It’s gonna be all right.”

  She was afraid to sleep because she was afraid to dream. It was similar to an eighties horror movie I’d watched with my parents, except Attie’s nightmares were once real. She’d seen her mother and best friend die, and she was left to live with the guilt of surviving. The memory of their pain was torturing her.

  Within a few minutes Attie’s breathing was rhythmic and gentle. I sat holding her in my arms and crying for what felt like hours. The last time I cried was the day of Melody’s funeral, and it felt good to let it all out.

  Eventually, my legs went numb, so I moved our bodies until we were lying on the floor.

  She slightly came to and looked around. I spoke softly into her ear. “It’s all right. I’m still here.”

  “Thank you, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

  “I won’t leave you, Charlie. Not until you’re ready.”

  “Poor Riley,” she whispered, “that could be a long time.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Attie needed me, and nothing could drag me away.

  (Attie)

  My eyes opened and immediately closed again. The sun was bright and my room was full of light. Opening my eyes again, I looked around until I noticed Riley sitting under the window. He was reading.

  “Riley?” My voice was groggy, so I shook my head to force myself to wake up. He looked up and grinned at me.

  “Hey, Charlie, did you sleep well?”

  “Ha, ha, very funny.” I moaned.

  “You didn’t wake up again after the nightmare. You slept peacefully.”

  I sat up quickly. “Were you here all night?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I slept in here on the floor.”

  I lay back down and covered my eyes with my hands. “Good grief, I’m so sorry. You didn’t need to do that.” I peeked back at him to see if he looked bothered.

  He shook his head and gave me a smile. “It was no problem.” His eyes were warm. “Really, it’s fine.”

  “I didn’t talk in my sleep and say anything stupid, did I?”

  “Nope. Your lips were sealed. Why?” He smirked. “Is there anything I should know?”

  Relief filled my body. “No. Nothing that you would find interesting anyway.” I rolled over onto my stomach and looked up at him. “How long have you been awake?”

  “A few hours.”

  “Riley! You did not have to stay.” I rolled back over and covered my face with my pillow. “I’m so sorry I’m such an emotional basket case.”

  “It’s fine. I know I didn’t have to stay; I wanted to. It’s no big deal. Don’t lose any sleep over it or anything.” His voice sounded like he was smiling.

  I spoke from under my pillow, “Boy, aren’t you the jokester this morning.”

  “Really, I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to. Eventually you’ll have to survive without me, but it didn’t necessarily have to start last night.”

  I rolled back over onto my stomach. “What are you reading?” I asked. He held up a Seventeen magazine so I could see the cover. “Oooh, any good?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded enthusiastically. “As a matter a fact, right now I’m reading an article called ‘What Boys are Really Thinking.’”

  “Oh yes.” I nodded. “I read that. It didn’t help me figure you out in any way.”

  He let out a carefree laugh that made me feel very at ease. “That’s because I’m a man, not a boy.”

  “Ah, I should have made the differentiation.”

  “Well, according to the article, boys are pretty much pigs.”

 
“I hate to tell you this, Riley, but I didn’t need an article to figure that out.”

  He ran his fingers through his already messy hair. “You agree? You think boys are pigs?”

  “Not all, but most are until they’re at least twenty-five or so.”

  “Oh yeah, where’d you hear that?”

  “A pretty reliable source.”

  I certainly wasn’t going to tell him where I’d heard it. After last night, if I told him I was having nightly conversations with Jesus, he would have advised his parents to lock me away in an insane asylum.

  “We aren’t all pigs, you know.”

  “Oh no?”

  “You can’t believe everything you hear, Charlie.”

  “I’ll take that into consideration.”

  My mind traveled back to my conversation with Anne, and I wondered if what she said was true. She sounded as if she knew for sure, but Riley would be the only person that would know. The question was whether or not he would be honest about it.

  Sitting in a partial ball, his left leg was tucked underneath him, and his right was bent up in front of his chest. He shyly hid part of his face behind his knee.

  “How often do you have them?” he asked.

  I’d gotten lost in thought. “What, boys?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “No, not boys. Why, do you have boys often?”

  I laughed along with him. “No, not quite,” I admitted.

  “The nightmares? How often do you have nightmares?” His shyness escaped as he rested his chin on his knee.

  “A lot more than I have boys, I can tell you that.”

  One of his eyebrows raised and his look became stern. “The nightmares?”

  I shut my eyes. “Pretty much every night.”

  “What have you done about it before now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I wouldn’t have come in last night, it could’ve gotten even worse. Did your dad come in and help you before?”