Fallen (41 page)

Rolling back over, I
pulled the pillow down over my face. If I tried, maybe I could still get back…

“Maggie!” Rufus called through the door, pounding on it
.
I’m sure
it
seemed like
just
a tap to him. “You up? Could I get a ride
ta
The Square? Felix left in a huff without me, the
wanka
’. Afta’ I joked about his olive pancakes. He he he…”

I groaned
, shoving
the pillow off my face.

Whatever divine intervention was keeping me from getting back to
Eran
, it was powerful. I gave in,
telling
Rufus to be ready in fifteen minutes, and started to prepare myself for the day.

All
day at The Square I only offered proof and took payment
from
those customers I’d delivered messages
for
the night
prior
. I refused to take on any new messages for delivery
,
because I’d be in school tomorrow and unable to deliver them. This was
my
routine. Saturday
:
take messages.
Sunday
:
deliver them.

It was a good thing I had a routine because half my mind was
focused elsewhere,
recounting my conversation with Eran. Even Rufus acknowledged it on the ride
there
.

He tapped my shoulder and shouted over the engine’s rumble. “Somethin’ on yer mind?”

“Yes,” I called back to him, not bothering to explain further.

When I parked at my spot, he
removed his helmet and faced me. “
Well? Y
a gonna fill me in?”

I sighed
, dropping
my shoulders in response.
I
wasn’t ready
. I needed time to understand it myself.

“Back in me home country, I was the one everyone told their problems to,” he began to explain, propping his helmet on the handlebar. “Hated it really
,
‘
cause I neva asked fer it. Turned out, they came ta me
‘
cause I had a knack. Found I neva gave lousy advice. So, even if I neva got any bloody sleep n’ was always helpin’ others with their problems, at least they walked ‘way with
some
peace.”

I
turned to pull my chairs from their hiding place and set them
up,
noticing Rufus didn’t move until the customer chair was
set down
.
Then he took a seat and waited.

He wasn’t going to let me off without some feeling of having helped me. Realizing this, I sat too.

“
What would you do if someone withheld information
…details about your own life?
”

“That it?” Rufus asked.

“Yes, that’s what is bothering me.”

Rufus threw his hands up. “Well, that’s easy enough.”

I felt instantly relieved. Rufus was going to give me insight, worldly wisdom
on how to get the information I desperately wanted.

He leaned forward in his seat and said, “Mags, there
ain’t
a thing you
kin
do ‘bout it.”

I remained silent, not at all
satisfied
with his response.

“Yer at their mercy,” he added plainly,
as he stood.
I kept my focus on the cracks in the cement, internally debating Rufus’s outlook, until he spoke again.

“Ever
think
they’re holdin’ back on ya ta
keep ya safe?”

“Huh?”

“That’s the main reason people keep things to themselves
– at least when it involves someone else
.
Could be they’re refusin’ ta disclose anything to keep from gettin’ ya
hurt
.”

Rufus
feebly
shrugged his shoulders at me and left to start setting up his own spot.
I spent the better part of the day trying to figure
out what could possibly hurt me and returned repeatedly to one final answer
: there were to
o many unknowns
. Whatever Eran was holding back, I
was at his mercy to tell me.

That night, I went to bed as quickly as I could – even skipping Ezra’s delicious coffee ice cream pie. Once asleep, I looked at the cabin but only found Annie and Charlie lounging on the porch. I also checked the clearing where I’d found him doing his training drills
,
but it was vacant. I even went back to the Hall of Records in hopes of finding him
there
but it
,
too
,
was empty.
I also tried drifting my finger over his scroll in hopes it would send me directly to him
,
but for the first time since I’d learned that technique
,
it didn’
t work. Everything I tried was
fruitless
.

I
f he was avoiding me – and I had the distinct feeling he was
–
I couldn’t figure out what I had done to deserve it.
He hadn’t appeared particularly offended by anything I said the night before. In fact, the last thing I remember before waking up in my bed were his eyes, shining blissfully back at me. This was what hurt the most. I had gotten the impression – once again – that he had some interest in me other than
his
self-proclaimed responsibility
to guard over me. H
e might have feelings he
refused to
acknowledge. Again, all evidence pointed to the fact that I was nothing more than
an unpredictable
part of his duties.

Eventually
, my alarm clock went off again and I woke up in my bed
back
on
Magazine Street
in
New Orleans
.

I
inhaled
a bowl of c
ereal
,
without paying much attention to the taste
,
and
got
on my motorcycle
,
head
ing
to school,
before anyone else was even
awake.

I
needed
something to keep my mind off Eran
.
Since
I
arrived
before the rest of the student body
,
well before classes start
ed
for the day
,
I parked myself at a
large table in
the
library. I had f
encing
class
to study up on
.
We were
having a test and sparing
today
for the first time
.
When
called on
,
I need to know what an Attaque au Fer and Prise de Fer meant. I hadn’t picked up my foil once to practice my footwork so I
needed
to ace the written part.
By the end of my studying, I was
desperately
hoping that Eran would be right – that the skill would come back to me – and that it would return some time before last period.
Feeling little difference in my physical aptitude, I knew this was a slim possibility.

When classes started, I
resorted to hiding
my fencing instruction manual behind other textbooks in each of my classes, doing my best to
memorize
all the terms. In fact, I was going to ask Gershom to test me at lunch
,
but he
was interested in talking about something else
far more intriguing
.

He arrived early to our spot beneath the tree and immediately
launched
into
his
interrogation
.

“Did you deliver the message
to Eran?” h
e asked
,
before
sitting
down.

I cringed. The
sound of his name left an ache in my chest.

“I did,” I replied
,
pulling out my
muffu
letta
and a bag of chips even though I had no appetite.

“Did he say anything in return?”

“Mmhmmm…” I replied. Lots of things.

“Well? What was it?”

Gershom looked impatient. He clearly wanted an answer. Idle conversation would not
suffice
today.

“Sorry,” I said
,
between
chews
.
“I feel a little scattered today.
Nothing
really
. U
m
, Eran was surprised you’d sent him a message and asked who you were.” I said this
rapidly
, trying to
get
the conversation over with quickly. The thought of Eran was leaving a void in my chest where my heart had
once
been
,
and discussing him was only
amplifying it.

Gershom leaned back, looking like I’d just pulled a black widow from my bag.

“What
? What
did
I
say?”
I asked, confused
.

“He asked about me? What did you tell him?”
Gershom’s
voice was strained
,
bordering on
nervous
.

“Nothing really. Just that you were a friend of mine at school.”

He watched me in silence for a moment and then an uneasy smile rose up. “You used the word…friend?”

“Yes. I consider you a friend.” I was surprised
once again
at how easy it was to say the word. I’d never
really
been comfortable using it, much less referring to anyone in my life with it.
Then
,
to use it in front of the very person I was referring to was a very big step.
This, I decided, was
directly influenced by
Ezra, Felix, and Rufus.