Divinity: The Gathering: Book One (29 page)

I wondered, but either way I was glad I got the chance to meet and talk to her
, because despite the huge age gap, we had obviously had some unique things in common. I felt hollow and cold inside knowing that, and that I’d never be able to see or speak to her again now.

“Are you Star?” I heard someone calling out to me.

I turned around seeing the same nurse who had told me of Ms. Hawthorne’s passing waving me down.

“Yes.” I called back.

“Wait! Hang on a second!” 

She began to jog towards me, something in her hand. I wiped away the cold, stray tear that had rolled down my face quickly.

“I forgot — this was left at the desk with a note. Apparently, Ms. Hawthorne wanted us to make sure to give it to you. They told me this morning when I came on shift and I didn’t think about it until you asked to see her just now.” She said once she caught up with me, and smiled warmly as she handed it to me.

I glimpsed the cover.

It was the book of poems I had been reading to her last night. I instantly choked up as I took it.

“Thank you,” I said as my voice quivered sligh
tly.

“Sure honey, you gonna be okay?” She asked
, looking as if she wanted to give me a hug.

I nodded quickly, “Could you do me a favor and let Lenell know when she comes in
, that I’m okay and I’m sorry I forgot to call her last night?” I then said softly.

She nodded, “Sure hon I will. You be careful.” She smiled
, eyeing my mouth with understanding as she turned to head back inside.

             
I sighed heavily, unlocking my car to sit inside as I choked back tears. If the demons wanted to really get to me, it was working and they were definitely doing some overtime at that. I couldn’t let them know that they were getting to me, mentally, emotionally or physically. In the meantime, I needed some sort of a release. I had to go somewhere for a moment to clear my mind and assess all that’s happened so far.

What was my defense? Was I going to die soon or something
, and if so when…how? Were they the ones trying to make sure it happened? I didn’t know, but I do know that I was afraid and not because of what they had done and what they could do, but because I hadn’t lived and done all that I could have done yet. There was still so much I wanted to experience, I was still young.

I ran my hand over the cover
, and then opened the book to the first page. She had written something on the bottom portion of the title page in her shaky scrawl:

‘Never give in or give up. Your mama, daddy and granny are all together ‘n safe
, and want you to be strong…you have to be...you are a chosen chil’,’ it read.

I paled
, feeling my heart float into my throat, and my vision blurred from having stared at her words in shock.

I slowly brought a shaking hand up to cup my mouth
, and my nose burned. I pinched my eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears. There was no way possible that Ms. Hawthorne could have known that both my grandmother and my parents had passed. As a matter of fact, there was no official record that my parents had died. They were simply never found, but I assumed that after all this time, given the fact that they never looked for me, meant that they had indeed died. I accepted it, even though there had been no bodies or an official funeral, past memorials that were held by distant family members in their memory.

Aside from my closest friends, I don’t tell people my business when it comes to that
, because it makes some people uncomfortable, and then they start treating you a certain way or acting weird around you. No one at the hospice knew, not even Lenell. I never told her they were all deceased — just that they weren’t here in Indianapolis.

Ms. Hawthorne’s note confirmed that they both were truly gone
, and it was like closure for me. I think she knew that. It was then that the tears that I had been holding in for years; finally broke through in full force.

             
I was glad that I had gotten bawling like a baby out of the way. I felt a little better, and though it left me with the sniffles and puffy red eyes, it was a total relief when the wrecker finally turned into the parking lot. The tow truck circled slowly until I got out and waved my hand to signal him. The injury to my mouth was bad enough so, I put my sunglasses on to at least cover my eyes.

Once the tow
pulled up behind my car, an old guy hopped out, and given the frown on his whiskered face, I guessed that maybe he was ticked about something. He hitched up his holey pants with clipboard in hand.

“Starling Roberts?” he confirm
ed.

“Star, I’m the one waiting for the tow.” I said.

He peered curiously at my face.

“It was a bitch getting here, the bridge was d
etoured from flooding last night, so it took me a while to go the long way. You have the keys?” He said in an impatient and gruff manner, as he began checking off a few things, and then verifying my license plate number before he passed me the clipboard and pen, in exchange for my car keys, “Sign there,” He marked an x next to the signature line on the customer form.

I
took it and quickly signed my name with no reply or attempt to strike up any kind of conversation given his demeanor, wanting to hurry and get this over with. I handed him my keys.

He took them and opened my car door,
“What exactly is wrong with it? Will it start?” He then asked as he plopped into the driver’s seat having to move it back for his legs to fit.

“The battery is dead I think.” I explained.

He nodded as he cranked the car, and it started just as easily, and purred just as smoothly as it always had —up until last night.

We both looked at each other, me with a more
puzzled expression.

“You could have just flagged someone for a jump if that was the case. It sounds good to me now.” He commented sounding agitated.

I was stunned.

“All your gauges look fine, you got gas. You sure it wouldn’t start?” He asked
, and then looked at me as if I were an idiot.

“Yeah I…” I trailed off.

“Well, there’s no point in towing it. I charge just to come out though. Is your insurance covering it?” He then said, leaving the car running as he scooted back out of the driver’s seat.

He glanced at me again, and in
trying to avoid looking at my mouth, his face changed to a more sympathetic expression.

“Um, no I have cash. How much
is it?” I asked opening my purse.

I heard him sigh, there was a slight pause.

I looked up at him with an expectant raised brow.

“No charge, don’t worry about it. You have you
rself a great day.” He then said with a smile and a curt nod.

What? His sudden generosity was abrupt and shocking.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He nodded with a hand up, “Positive. Take care.” He waved off. I handed him the clipboard back and he took it, heading back to his tow truck
, where climbed back inside, and took a moment to write something down.

That was cool, and I was definitely appreciative.

             
I was so relieved that I wasn’t going to have car issues after all. Though my cell phone rang, I ignored it —not wanting to talk to anyone right now.

I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go
, but once I hit the city limits and took the exit that would lead me to a popular strip mall shopping center, I paused. In the distance, down the road to my right, I saw a looming steeple with an iron gray cross atop a small, yet well-built church. I didn’t even think or question the denomination when I flipped my signal, and made the turn.

             
I hadn’t been to a church in years and though my parents and grandmother had their own beliefs, they didn’t have any kind of particular religious affiliation. We went to church at times but there was no specific denomination that I ever considered myself to be so I didn’t even care what the denomination of this church was.

There was only one car in the parking lot.

Were they even open? Wasn’t church usually open all the time?

I parked anyway
, and hesitated before giving it a try. I turned off the engine and got out, making my way across the walk, and up the steps to the large mahogany double doors with a square window of stained glass set in each panel.

             
I pulled on the handle, and the door opened with a high squeak and creak. I breathed a sigh of relief, already feeling soothed in my emotionally distress, as I stepped inside slowly. It smelled like pine cleaner and bubble gum inside to me, as I looked around the vestibule area, decorated with a rack of pamphlets, a suggestion and donation box, and several plants.

The crown molding edged archway,
led straight into the main part of the church. There were three sections, each containing several rows of dark wooden pews, neatly facing a small stage, where an altar, podium, bleachers for the choir and a piano all sat silently.

Vivid colors streaming in from the stained glass windows, danced over the pews, as the sun shone through; creating a rainbow effect over the tops of the benches and the blue carpeting.

A large gold cross was raised above the pulpit
, and the baptismal fountain, dominating all of the other décor and I looked at all of it in awe. There was a single door to the right of the stage. I assumed it was either an office or where the preacher and staff probably kept supplies or something.

I look
ed around, seeing no one, as I made my way towards the altar and then stopped short. Instead, I moved to the left, and slid into a pew. The wooden bench creaked softly under my weight as I sat and let out a slow breath of release. I leaned back and relaxed against the hard back of the bench.

I did
feel safe momentarily, peaceful —knowing that nothing dark would or could bother me here.

I thought about everything. The past, all
of my dreams, what happened yesterday, and I tried to make some sense of it. I was bad about praying. I know I didn’t do it as much as I should have, or as much as my grandmother would have liked me to do, but I did. Maybe it hadn’t been enough.

I closed my eyes thinking of some of the prayers she had taught me
, when a sudden cold sensation brushed against my face and mouth.

It startled and made me
gasp suddenly, and my eyes flew open.

             
My entire face and my mouth felt cool and tingly, with a strange sensation that I couldn’t really describe. It was the equivalent of someone holding an ice cube close to my lips, enough for me to feel the cold coming off of it, and it seemed to have come from out of the blue. I gently touched my face, and the strange, tingly coldness began to seep into my fingertips. The sensation traveled up into each of my fingers, beneath my skin, and up my arm, spreading into my shoulders and neck, and then throughout my entire body, finally —heading straight into my legs, and then into my feet.

My heart pounded at the sudden strange yet…soothing sensation
, and suddenly all of the soreness in my face, lip, back and ankle…were completely, gone.

My mouth parted in disbelief
, my eyes flicked to the huge gold cross, and I felt the welling up of tears again.

I wasn’t worthy. I did believe in miracles
, but only happening to other people.

“Are you alright?” I h
eard a soft spoken male voice ask from my left. I gasped and sat up straighter. My eyes searched the empty church to find who the voice belonged to.

             
Sitting adjacent in the pew in front of me was — Antonio Sabato Jr., in his younger General Hospital days. Obviously, this couldn’t be him. Though the resemblance was strong, this man was lacking the dimples and olive skin tone. Well, if I could say one thing about the events of the last twenty four hours, it was that I had been running into really gorgeous guys all of a sudden.

I continued to stare; dumbstruck at not just his looks
, but how the hell he had come in or where he had come from without making a sound.

“I’m sorry
. I didn’t mean to disturb you. You seemed distraught.” He then said, as he smiled a perfect white smile.

I couldn’t get over who he looked like
. The longer I stared at him, the more I could see that instead of being tanned like Antonio, he was more on the lighter side, with some kind of light iridescence that seemed to shimmer just beneath the surface of his skin.

It was weird.

“No, I’m sorry…I didn’t hear anyone come in, I just wanted a moment to rest and think,” I began as I stood.

He held a hand up.

“No, no please don’t leave on my account. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said.