Overcomer - The Journey, Judy Colella [book reader for pc txt] 📗

Celeste, what did he just say?” Katie frowned at him.

“He said ‘damn it.’ What happened, Cian? Did you just remember something else about your family?”

Nodding, he looked away. “My mother had three other children before me, but they died from a fever a few weeks before I turned eight. I got it, too, but somehow survived.” Why so many sad moments? Were there so few happy ones?

“I’m really sorry.” She put a hand on his arm. “It must have devastated your mother, too.”

“She… ” He closed his eyes, allowing more to come into focus. “She didn’t eat for nearly a week, but then my dad... ” He opened his eyes and gazed, unseeing, into a private distance he would rather had remained forgotten. “He left me at a neighboring farmstead for several days and, well, I’m not sure where he went or what he did to help her, but when they came back to fetch me home, his mood was lighter, and my mother was nearly herself again.”

“How could a fever kill them?” asked Katie, moving to his other side.

Cian shrugged. “Back then, there was no way to bring a fever down – we had no ice, and no medicines that worked quickly enough, only herbs and things like that. In fact, the way fevers were dealt with was to wrap people in blankets and put them near the fire to try and raise their temperature so the fever would break on its own.” He gave an unhappy laugh. “Didn’t work for my brothers. They simply stopped breathing, one after the other.”

“But it worked for you, obviously,” Celeste said.

He nodded. “It did. I’ve just remembered all that, and now wish I could forget it again.” He took a deep breath, forced a smile. “Well! Maybe we should be getting back.”

“Are you ready to do that?” Katie asked. “I mean, you, like, came out here to think or whatever, and all you did was talk to us and answer our questions – not to mention the whole Tara thing.”

“You know, I think that was exactly what I needed. I’m fine now.”

“Um, okay then, uh, let’s go!” Celeste left the gazebo, Katie following.

Cian started down the steps when a realization hit him, and he stopped. “Oh, no!”

The girls turned back and simultaneously said, “What is it?” then looked at each other and rolled their eyes at the same time.

Cian burst out laughing. “Have you any idea –”

“Yeah, we know.” Katie grinned.

“Anyway, I realized that I haven’t called work to let them know what’s going on. I left almost as soon as I got there, and I think I should at least tell my boss I probably won’t be back for a while.”

“You left work to come here?” asked Katie. “Wow. I guess that explains your hysterical phone calls.”

“I sounded hysterical?”

“Hmm. A bit.”

“Great,” he muttered, embarrassed.

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t have a reason to be.”

“Yeah. Thanks. But I still feel bad about waking you up.”

“Excuse me, but I’m freezing.” Celeste blew on her hands, shivering.

“I guess we should go back in for Round Two, then.” Katie turned. “You coming, Cian?”

Round two… I will eventually understand them. Eventually. “Er, sure,” he said aloud. “Right behind you.”

They hurried up the stairs and into the kitchen, Cian reveling in the sudden warmth.

“All set?” asked Donal, who was sitting at the table. “Cian, are you okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good! Get your coats off and put away, and let’s get this done, then! Oh, and while you were outside, Celeste, your mother called Nadine’s and asked if the girls could play at her home for a while. Said we have a guest with whom we needed to speak without distractions.” He shrugged.

Celeste removed her coat. “And she was okay with that?”

“She was. She said she understood how disruptive three pre-teens could be.” A chuckle. “She got here a few minutes after they came back inside, which means we can continue with this, er, whatever this is without any more interruptions.”

Celeste smiled. “Thanks, you guys. Guess we should get our coats put away – Cian? Katie?”

He followed the girls out to the hallway to hang up his coat, then back into the family room. Sitting, he watched Donal added some wood to the fire, poking it back awake from its glowing slumber.

Like my memories, Cian thought, watching the fire catch. He leaned back, hoping that whatever else this telling was going to resurrect, it wouldn’t reduce him to emotional ashes.

SIXTEEN

 

Georgia – One Year Earlier

 

“How long have you been alone down here?” Mr. Bell put a hand under the boy’s elbow, helping him to stand.

“Four d-days.”

“Have you eaten anything?” Felicity also helped steady him as they went toward the stairs.

He shook his head, staring at the floor.

Mr. Bell looked at his watch. “And it’s lunch-time, too. Okay.” He smiled at the boy. “Looks like we’ll be stopping for some lunch!”

When there was no response, Felicity said, “You, er, will eat something, won’t you?”

“What... y-y-you mean I c-c-can, uh, m-may eat, too?”

Horrified, Mr. Bell stopped. “Why on earth would you think I’d tell you we were stopping for lunch if you weren’t included?”

The boy shook his head and looked down; a moment later tears splashed on the cold concrete floor.

“Oh, this was too much,” Felicity murmured. She put an arm around his waist and gave him a gentle squeeze. “You’re safe now. Everything will be all right. No one is going to harm you anymore.”

Mr. Bell stepped away long enough to tell the other agents still poking around in the basement to go back to the cars, that they’d catch up with them in a minute or so.

He came back in time to help Felicity get the boy up the stairs. The poor kid looked like he was about to collapse. “Steady, there, son. By the way, we know your name, but how in the world do you say it?”

The boy blinked away more fresh tears, sniffed, and pronounced it for him.

“Key-un?”

“Close e-e-n-nough.”

“Good. My name is Josiah Bell, and this is Felicity Markwood.”

“V-very nice to m-m-meet you.”

Once upstairs, they walked through the hallway from the kitchen into the front hall, where Mr. Bell went to a table near the door. “What’s this?” he asked, picking up a cheap tape recorder sitting there.

Cian stopped short and went into a crouch, covered his head with his arms, his eyes squeezed shut. “Please don’t t-t-turn it on, p-please d-d-don’t, I’ll d-do anyth-th-thing you ask... ”

Bell put the recorder back on the table and joined Miss Markwood, who was down on one knee in front of the boy. She tried to touch him, but he cringed further away.

“What the hell did they do to him?” Horrified, Mr. Bell bent down and took Cian by the shoulders; he started to shake uncontrollably, so Mr. Bell wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. “It’s all right!” he whispered. "We are not going to hurt you! Sshh! It’s okay, Cian, you really are safe now. Hush… ” He began rocking the boy as he looked up at Miss Markwood, nodding at the tape recorder.

Walking on the balls of her feet, she went to the table, picked up the recorder, and put it under her jacket.

After a few minutes, Cian relaxed enough for Mr. Bell to pull back and look at him. How could anyone harm such a beautiful young man so badly that he would be reduced to a cringing wreck at the mere sight of – of what? A tape recorder? He decided to listen to it as soon as he got back to the office and find out what on earth could be on that thing to cause such a violent reaction of fear.

And that stutter – another consequence of how he’d been treated? “We’re going to leave now,” he said, once he was sure Cian was calm enough to allow them to take him away.

Cian nodded and let Mr. Bell and Felicity help him to stand once more.

“Are you ready to leave this house forever? Because you won’t be coming back, I promise.” In the brighter surroundings, he could see the boy’s clothing hung on him as if they belonged to someone both wider and shorter, so he didn’t bother asking if had any to pack.

Cian gave Mr. Bell a quick nod, and they went outside. Two black SUVs were parked in the driveway; they helped Cian down the rickety steps and over the sparse lawn to the closer vehicle. Mr. Bell opened the back door and ushered the boy inside.

Felicity got into the front passenger seat as one of the other agents went around and got in behind the wheel.

“We’re going to be making a stop,” Mr. Bell called to the driver of the second SUV. “Just follow us.” He got in beside Cian and shut the door. “Do you know where your foster family might be?”

Cian had been struggling with his seat belt, and without looking up, said, “N-no. They… di-did-didn’t say.”

“All right – never mind.” The Pettijohns would have to come back at some point, though, and Mr. Bell was going to make sure they were dealt with as soon as they did.

 

*******

 

He was free. The realization exhilarated yet terrified him. Letitia, Retta, and Buddy wouldn’t be part of his life anymore, couldn’t hurt him now, but what of others? How could anyone tolerate his ugliness? The kindness of the people who had found him reminded him of someone else from long ago, but still… why weren’t they repulsed? Could they be pretending it didn’t bother them? He didn’t know. To spare them further distress he turned his head toward the window as soon as the seat belt was connected. The seat belt. Safety belt. Once, somewhere, some time in the past, he’d used, had been in a car. He must not have felt comfortable being in one then because he wasn’t comfortable now.

Cian didn’t realize the vehicle had started until he saw they were backing up. Letitia’s old car was noisy. Every time Buddy used it, the sound of the engine echoed into the basement. Not this one.

As soon as they pulled out onto the road, it occurred to Cian that anyone passing them would see him looking out the window, see his horrible face. He turned away and stared at his lap instead.

“Cian?” The woman – Felicity, she’d said – sounded like she must have turned around to face him. “Why won’t you look at us? Why do you keep turning away or looking down? Do we frighten you?”

“N-no, ma’am. I-I-I…” He stopped for a second. Tried again. Slower this time. “You’re b-both so kind, and I d-don’t want to d-d-disgust you w-with my m-mon- strously ug-ugly face.”

Several seconds of silence followed; Cian heard Mr. Bell shift. “Who on God’s green earth told you that you were ‘monstrously ugly’?”

“M-my f-f-foster mo-mother, and-and-and h-her ch-children.”

“Really. I see. Felicity, do you have a compact in your purse?”

“Sure – hold on… here you go. What are you going to do?”

“An experiment. Cian, I want you to take this and have a good, long look. I fail to understand how you could ever see your own face in a mirror and believe what you said about yourself.”

Cian shook his head and put up a hand. “N-no. I