So Shall I Reap (16 page)

He nodded back, and in a menacing tone, spoke my name upon leaving, “Alexcia.” Soon he was around the corner with whatever misty thing was trailing behind him. After his departure, the air in the room turned instantly warmer.

Willow sat there with the straw stuck to her bottom lip as it quivered. She had a far off look on her face, and I couldn’t tell if she had blinked at all since he left. I turned away from her and looked back at Rae-Lynn and Blakely.

Mom bent back down to her laptop case and pulled out her cell phone. Blakely was still silently wishing for her creepy knight in khakis to come back and rescue her. Rae-Lynn pressed only one button which meant she was calling Max.
Why now?

The box reminded me it was still there as the coolness drifted through the covers. I reached for it when suddenly Rae-Lynn turned around and snapped, “Don’t touch that.”

Then she tiptoed to the bathroom for some privacy. Her eyes took on a darker shade, reminding me of anguish. Mom must have forgotten to tell Max something I shouldn’t hear. Shrugging, I lightly touched the corner of the box to test if it was going to bite. Blakely’s grin turned inquisitive peeking through the lids window.

“Well, come on. What’s in there? We need to find out who sent this. The box alone looks incredibly expensive. I would even keep the box after the flowers died if it were up to me.” She used one of her black chipped nails to pry open the side of the lid.

While I worked on the left side, I remembered the manicure I had treated myself to before the party. Most nails were broken and the polish had been worn off some of them. My pinky nail had snapped in half and hurt when it rubbed against the sheets. I was holding it out at an angle so I wouldn’t get it caught on anything. Not being able to use my left hand was such a bother. Good thing I had Blakely’s inquisitiveness to help me out.

We both lifted the lid at the same time. A light breeze drifted out of the box like whatever it was had greeted us by taking a breath to say
Hello.
I looked at Blake, “Did you feel that?” She let go of the lid, and I tossed it down to the end of the bed. Something was wrapped in pearl frosted tissue paper similar to the outside of the box. Light pastel colors caught the fluorescent lights and shimmered. The paper had a smooth, cool crispness to it. For some weird reason, I had the urge to taste it. Both of us were smiling. At least that was a nice feeling for a change.

A white envelope with crystal flakes was embedded in the paper toward the bottom of the box. Blakely slipped it between two fingers and tossed it over to me. Our smiles were widened with anticipation. What did this mystery person send me? It was making us reel. I carefully pulled the corner to flip it up and slid the card from its holder. It was made out of the same material as the envelope. Someone with script handwriting left a message… not a
get well…
or a
so sorry.
Just three words and a letter.
See you soon, T
.

“Ah, Lex-Cee, who’s T?” Blake came around to read from over my shoulder. “I don’t know anyone by the name of T, do you?”

We looked at each other trying to see if one of us could remember this someone of a person. He obviously knew me. My name was unique and most people misspelled it without the “c.” Blakely tugged on my arm. “Hey, maybe he left a number on the back side?”

I flipped it over. Nothing. “I wonder what’s under the paper. Here.” I handed her back the card and began to peel the tissue away. The same scripted handwriting graced a four by six piece of calligraphy paper. I lifted it out and held it close so I could read it first. My heart felt giddy when I realized it was a poem. I read it over and over until the words were burned into memory. Feeling the card between my fingers was surreal, in a way. I didn’t know anyone who would be able to afford these flowers, well, except Max. I knew from Rae-Lynn’s demeanor that wasn’t the case. I read the poem in a whisper…

To Kiss Remembrance

Where winter’s breath is felt on skin,

It grows alone, feeling the bite of wind

Where snowflakes fall so not to bruise.

It dreams of someone’s touch of dew

Where the air is crisp and dries one’s tears.

It longs to protect what it wants to hold dear

Where life cannot go but death can follow

It wants to remember why it fights for tomorrow

Where its roots drink from creations flame

It needs just one kiss to remember thy name.

From: T.

I finished the poem with a breathless whisper, “…from T.”

The
from
part of the poem was signed with only one letter glaring at me. Both forefingers and thumbs holding the card felt as if I had plunged them into ice water. Blood drained from the top half of my core, making each leg throb from the rush. Where tears would have made tracks by now, both cheeks felt more like wind burn from skiing. All I could do was sit there reading the words over and over in silent disbelief. Dumbfounded, swimming in disbelief, I tried to make sense of the poem. The words seemed to reach out to me. Someone was sending me a message, by way of frozen flowers and a stranger named T. What was scarier… he was trying to communicate with me by poetry. Another indication this person knew me.

Blakely was getting impatient with me. Reaching over my shoulder, she whisked the sheet of paper away and read it to herself. I recited it word for word along with her moving lips. As I watched her mouth, a male’s voice was overlapping hers with every syllable. He sounded far away, like beyond a dream. And yet as they recited it together, I knew in my heart, he was nearby.

When she finished, tears formed in her eyes. It had also spoken to her and an emotion of lightheartedness came over me. As quickly as it came, the feeling was replaced by a sense of emptiness. Something had been lost or missing. Facing me with small self-made rain drops on her face, Blakely smiled and handed me back my note.

Bringing both of her hands up to her face, she wiped under each of her lower lashes with her third finger while clearing her throat. “Damn, we know one thing. He’s right up your alley, Lex-Cee. The guy can write.” Blake used her hands to push the chair against the hospital bed and turned it so she could face me when she sat down. “I don’t know what you felt, but it made me glad to feel sad or something close to sadness. So, are you going to see what’s in the box, or should I grab the lid and close it?” She was pretending to lean over both legs to replace the lid when I bolted up, and without thinking snatched the box from its resting place.

Pitched into an Arctic sea, my body reacted as though I had a light case of hypothermia from the dip. With teeth beginning to chatter, I replaced it between Blakely’s arm and the right leg brace. I couldn’t understand why I was the only person affected by this thing. She touched the sides of it trying to raise one end up so we both could look at the same time. Blake showed no signs of being cold, not one shiver. Why could she touch it with no ill effects? But, when I did, it turned me into a frozen Push Pop. I wrapped each arm around myself for some warmth. “You go ahead. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed and am tired of this arm hurting. The medication must be wearing off.”

“Are you sure? I mean it’s your gift. You should be the one to see it first.”

“Go ahead and unwrap the damn thing. I’m getting bitchy, and I smell. And why is she taking so damn long on the phone? Rae-Lynn.” By using her name, I was hoping for a quicker response because it irritated her. I was cold, tired, hungry, upset, and done trying to figure out who this mystery person was.
I mean who sends frozen bouquets and encrypted messages?
The need to get out of these puke smelling blankets and gown was greater than mere curiosity. Sealing myself off in mid blink, I inwardly wished one of them would get the hint to warm up the coffee and food. I didn’t care what was in the box anymore. Whatever it was, it didn’t like me touching it. Hence, the freezer burn sensation whenever I tried to hold it.

My friend, with her mouth unhinged, gawked at me like she didn’t know who I was. The bathroom doorknob made a popping sound indicating Rae-Lynn had locked the door when it slowly opened. Willow made little sniffing sounds from her side of the room. With my tongue glued, I couldn’t muster up the word
sorry
, to either of them. I was done with all of this.

Blakely’s face reminded me of a scolded puppy and it was enough oil to unlock my jaw. “So sorry. I’m getting restless and this adds to it, ya know?”

Mom had a frown on her face when she saw the opened box on the bed. Rae-Lynn looked as though she aged ten years behind the closed door. This meant the conversation with Max must not have gone well. She slowly closed the cell phone and brought her face up to meet mine. I grew worrisome when I noticed she had been crying. Why? Oh, no. Was I going to die anyway? That explained why I keep getting cold. It probably was insufficient blood flow. My lower lip was beginning to quiver as I waited for her words to hit me with the horrible news. Blake turned to face her. Willow’s small sobs turned to hiccups.

Rae-Lynn walked over to the hospital bed, glancing at the bouquet box. “So, did you see what it was? I’m sure you have some questions for me.”

One question after another fired from a mental voice of irritation. Huh? What? Why does everything come back to this stupid gift? What the hell was it?

Blakely took this moment to answer for me. “We were about to open it. There is a card, but neither of us knew anybody by that name. Whoever it is left her an awesome poem too. I think they may have a crush on our little Alexcia here.” She snickered at her jab at me. “I don’t know much about rhyming, but I think it’s beautiful.”

Rae-Lynn looked puzzled. “So, you haven’t looked at it? I thought for sure. You look so pale and your lips are blue like you’re freezing…” Her words kind of trailed off into thought.

Yes. Finally someone gets it. I lifted the sheet and blanket up, “I would like to change out of this and maybe get something to eat. The package has waited this long, we can look at it after I’m clean and warm again.”

Mom looked relieved as she walked over and picked up the box to set it on another table. Then she asked Blakely to pull the curtain all the way around for privacy. Rae-Lynn picked items up for my sponge bath.

Turning to Blake, I felt a little embarrassed. “Hey, Blakely if you don’t mind stepping out for a bit?” I felt transparent for shooing her out, so I added, “Also, can you find a microwave in this place to heat up the coffee? I would do it, but I’m kinda stuck.”

She replied with a nod, but I could tell she was waiting for a response to my earlier actions. I shrugged as an apology, and she picked up the coffees and sauntered out of the room and down the hallway. In muffled tones, I heard her speaking to someone from the nurse’s station asking directions to the kitchen.

Mom brought me a bucket of hot, soapy water and a washcloth. She untied the gown, and I went to work. I used the wash rag to wipe everything and everyone out of my mind. Trying to erase the unwanted emotions from Michael and the frigid feelings from the mystery box, I scrubbed. I still wanted to peek inside the box to see whatever it was, but I wanted to face it with a warm body, inside and out before I lost feeling from holding it again.

While I worked on ridding myself of a few layers of hospital residue, Rae-Lynn did the same to the mattress. She changed the sheets by lifting each leg and at the same time telling me to not get water on the cast. Handing me a new hospital gown with little kitten faces on it, she smiled. I frowned. I wanted the old one back. Really, I wasn’t ten anymore, so why did I have to get the kiddy one? Mom tied me into it, and I sat back while she took the mini bathtub away. She came back with a clean flat sheet and a blanket. Clean body, clean sheets, and a clear mind. I was feeling much better. All that was missing was my warm, toasty coffee and some food. Then, all would be right with the world.

After we were done, she walked around the edge of the bed and sank into the chair as best she could. Glancing at her watch, she craned her neck at the door and then back at me. She puffed, “Great, we’re done in time.”

“In time for what?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Your father should be here shortly.”

“What, what are you saying? I thought he was still away on business? Unsticking his assets?” It sounded like whining. No, wait, it was, “Why is he coming if nothing is wrong with me?”

“Wrong? Who said anything was wrong?”

“Mom, be frank with me. Do I need a transplant? Does my arm have gangrene and needs to come off? Or worse, am I dying?” Apprehension widened my gaze, waiting for her to disclose my life-threatening diagnosis. I was answered by her laughter. I loved the sound of it when it wasn’t directed
at
me.

“What an imagination you have. No wonder you always get A’s in creative writing. Isn’t it okay for your dad to come by to see his daughter when she’s laid up in the hospital?” I must have struck her funny bone because she was tearing up again while she was laughing to herself. At least, the ones she was shedding now were the good kind.

When Blakely returned, she was wearing a broad grin as though she was pleased with herself. Holding two white blankets and the cardboard drink container carrying our coffees, she said, “Looky, what I got. You needed and I retrieved. I told one of the candy stripers you were on the
not so warm
side of things and she gave me two fresh blankets right out of their dryer. Quick, take them, I’m sweating to death.” Mom got up to take them from her. When she opened them up, the dry heat hit me instantly and I felt elated. I was getting a tad emotional over Blakely going above and beyond her duties as a friend and motioned for her to come closer. I wrapped my good arm around her, squeezed and told her I was sorry. She smirked and shrugged one shoulder to indicate it was no biggie.