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He points at the foot of the rock formation and with that story in the back of my mind, I can actually see the stone effigies. Brought back to life by the sheer power of my imagination, I could see the whole story unfold right before my eyes. Wawetseka tied to a tree, the painful gaze in her eyes as she witnessed her beloved being slain. Then, with her last dying breath she calls out his name, as a dagger pierces her heart. I close my eyes and shudder at this tragedy. The wind howls softly right next to my hair, as if it confirms that it really did happen. It witnessed the event. So did the grass, the trees, the clouds, the sun. The Great Spirit made sure the crime didn’t go unpunished.
“This early, the water is unforgivingly cold,” he tells me, but despite that, I see him take off his t-shirt and wade into the water, up to his ankles. “Wanna join me?”
I shake my head quickly a few times. I didn’t come here for a dip, even though the water looks beautifully transparent. He is standing in the same spot, the water moving softly around his muscular legs. He kicks his left foot playfully and we both watch the drips expand in ever-growing rings, mirroring the image of the morning sun. Seeing him there, I want to feel the coolness of the water with the tips of my fingers, but I don’t move. Instead, I gaze into the middle of the lake, trying to see the bottom, but although the water is so clear, it’s impossible to do so. I can glimpse the rocks below, but how far down they go, ten feet or thirty, I can’t really tell.
Zarael takes a few more steps, then glances back at me.
“Your loss!” he shouts and instantly, dives right in.
His body fully immerses itself into the water. They become one. He is piercing through the watery veil like he belongs there, like he was earth-bound for a day and now, it’s time for him to go back underwater. He goes in so deep that I can’t see him any longer. The water must be freezing and I immediately change my mind about trying it, even with just a pinkie. I wait for him to resurface, but there is no sign of him. The surface shone like a molten mirror, quiet and secretive. Telling nothing. A few more seconds pass and I stare into the water more intently.
Why isn’t he coming out? What if he hit his head on the rocks below when he dived in? He could be bleeding out at the bottom of the lake. But I don’t see any blood. The water would probably dilute it, even if there was any.
Frantic, I take a step into the water, half expecting to see Zarael’s dead face stare right at me from the depths. I hear the silent invitation to dive in, but I’m scared. That welcoming blackness is too frightening, the rocks too sharp. The sky above me is clear, as if showing a polar opposite of what happens beneath the depths. My heart is in my throat now, pounding, racing, skipping every second beat.
A moment later, a head pops up, then a hand spritzing some water my way.
“Made you go in!” he starts laughing and I swear I never wanted to kill someone as much as him at that moment.
I point at him, then swirl my palm around its axis, in the level of my head, signaling to him that he must be crazy to do such a thing to me. It takes my heart a few seconds to go back to its rightful place and to start beating normally again.
“I’m not crazy!” he shouts, spitting some water, then does a few dolphin kicks, but the water splashing doesn’t reach me.
I watch him as he does a few laps and about half an hour later, we are both sitting on the grass a little further away from the lake. We can still see it, but it’s hidden from plain view by luscious trees and shrubbery. I lean back resting my palms against the soft grass and close my eyes. The sun is much warmer now and the water must be a little more pleasant, too. But I haven’t changed my mind about that dip. After what Zarael put me through, I doubt I’ll be taking one more step in.
“So, how’s your jaw healing?” Zarael asks me, his voice coming from my right side, where he’s sitting.
I open my eyes and turn to him. He’s not really the definition of a handsome man. Surely not as handsome as Dex or Theron. This guy always wears a mischievous grin, a warm possibility of something to come. You don’t know what that something is, but you can sense it’ll be something you’ll enjoy. I noticed him talking to a few people before and whatever he was saying, made them all laugh out loud. Dex said Zarael’s jokes were always bad, but a good kind of bad. I think I know exactly what he meant by that.
Instead of a reply, I give him an energetic thumbs up, which he welcomes with a grin. We both gaze into the
distance again and I remember the city once more. Only, it’s not a wistful longing for coffee shops and busy streets of strangers rushing off somewhere. That world seems to have exploded somewhere far away and these men here have become my shoulder to lean on. None of us has said it in those words, but I feel like we all have this silent agreement that they will be here for me until I can walk and talk once more like before, until I can finally go back to my life, forgetting that this whole nightmare ever happened.
But, that’s just it. I’m not sure if I want to forget. If this nightmare never happened, I would never have ended up here. I feel like the storm has passed and I’m building my inner strength, while having these men to thank for that. By these men, I mean Theron, Dex and Zarael. They are the ones who have showered me with their time and effort at making me heal. The others are also here, I know that, but they are simply acquaintances, while these three have become friends in an amazingly short amount of time.
And, I can’t imagine how different each of them is. I glance again at Zarael. The jokester. The one to make everyone laugh, even if that makes him look a little silly. Always up for a good time. And so amusing with his knowledge of all sorts of things that many people might not know, like the legend about this lake. I’m sure that none of the other guys knows it. Then, I remember Theron. No man has ever taken such care of me before. He has tended to me in my hour of need and if he hadn’t bandaged me up so nicely, who knows what could have happened. I dare not even think about that. I remember how softly he read to me the other night, how he didn’t mind doing me that silly favor. With him, I feel safe, like a ship finally docked into a safe harbor and I don’t have to be afraid any longer, simply because he is around. Then, Dex. Dexis. I don’t think that I’ve heard any of the guys calling him that. He’s always just Dex. And yet, it’s obvious that he is the leader. He needs no title. He feels it in his own heart and so do his brothers. That’s enough. That’s the characteristic of a true leader. Not to impose your rule onto anyone, but simply be what others need you to be. What he is to me - I’m not sure. I shy underneath his gaze. While I can look at Theron in the eyes and not look away, this isn’t possible with Dex. The strength of his persona makes me feel inadequate, almost like I’m not worthy to be saved by him, to be talking to him.
“You like it here?” Zarael asks me again, noticing that I got lost in my own thoughts. His eyes tell me that he might want to be a part of them. But, I’m not willing to make him a confidant. Not yet at least.
I simply nod. I’ve become a pro at nodding, but I miss talking more and more with each passing day. Theron mentioned taking off the bandages next week and I can’t wait. I don’t think I ever wanted to talk this much and finally stop pointing and nodding.
“It’s weird, you know,” Zarael suddenly tells me, but he doesn't look at me. When he turns to me, I raise my eyebrows, questioningly. “I’ve never spoken to a girl who can’t talk.”
I have a great urge to chuckle, but I know I can’t. The desire is just too strong and it takes me a moment or two to focus on something else.
“I have a few questions to ask you, but you can’t answer any of them with pointing or any kind of mimicry. They require words,” he sighs. “I guess I’ll need to wait.”
We sit like that for a few more minutes, neither of us talking. The silence feels good. It’s good because it’s not complete silence after all. There is always the sound of my own heart, the presence of a soul dreaming. There is always something. The serenity of the moment grows deeper and I’m not sure if Zarael can hear the steady beating of my heart. In the end, it doesn’t matter. Sometimes, mere presence is enough.
Chapter 12
Dex
This is my favorite place here. Hell, I’d say this is my favorite place in the whole world. This is where I come to let my frustrations out and no matter how hard I hit, no one stops me. It just flows out of me. All the stress. All the frustration. It leaks out in a steady stream of punches I keep delivering one after the other.
When I enter the small shack, we arranged to resemble a gym, I already feel better. The last few days kept pissing me off. And, as if that wasn’t enough, I’ve got the girl to think about. The problem is I don’t want to think about her and the more I refuse to do so, the more my mind keeps going back to her. A part of me wishes we just brought her to some hospital and left her there. Her family would have picked her up shortly after and we’d be all on our way, doing what we do best. But no. I fucking had to get involved and now I’ve got Leo on my back. Things with him were getting worse with each passing year, but it feels kinda better when you have someone to pin it on, instead of yourself.
I look around for a place to put my duffle bag. After a second, I just throw it carelessly in the corner. The punching bag is right there, waiting for me. It’s definitely not what it used to be. The red coat of paint is peeling on all sides and a few places give less resistance than others. But it’s the same bag we put up when we first organized this place. The guys have been offering to get a new one, but nah. It’s not that I got emotionally attached to this stupid thing. Fucking emotional attachment. That’s for girls. I know this punching bag. It knows me. My fist recognizes its surface, returning to it over and over again. It’s more of a feeling of home than anything else.
