Hands slam on the table, startling me awake. I hear my Dad apologize to Grandma. The sun has begun to shine in the windows of the living room. My stomach rumbles. I need food but I really don’t want to leave Ash.
“Grandma B?” my voice is weak. She still hears me. I guess she’s gotten used to listening for my soft voice in these past four years.
She stands at the doorway, “You should go to bed and get some rest.”
I shake my head. “Ash needs me.”
“Honey, just come to the kitchen, have something to eat and then you can get some real rest.”
“Ash needs me,” I repeat, shaking my head again.
“Morgan,” her tone is stern and I know she’s about to order me.
Dad places a hand on her shoulder. “She may be right Mrs. B.” Grandma B looks at him. “She’s half Faerie. She could be a healer.”
I glance up at Dad. He’s looking at me with pride. I feel my cheeks flush. I look down. “I just feel like I’m the only thing between him and utter darkness,” I mumble.
Grandma B gives a snort and turns back to the kitchen. She begins to rummage around. Dad waits a moment then comes to kneel before me. He places his hand on my shoulder. I feel his strength and look up at him. I wish him and mom had stayed together. Or that he’d come back after the divorce. Maybe if he had been here when Mom was killed it wouldn’t have been so bad. I feel tears in my eyes again. Sometimes I hate being so emotional.
“Morgan,” Dad’s talking, “when is your birthday?”
“And you’ll be what 19, 20?”
“20” I have no clue why he’s asking this. He seems to be reflecting on something. His focus returns to me.
“And you don’t know what your talents are yet?”
But Grandma B bustles in with food for me before he can reply. He moves away so she can put the tray down. I start eating, a little awkwardly since I’m still holding Ash’s hand. Dad goes back into the kitchen. Grandma B watches me. When I’m done, she speaks.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to you’re room and rest, you look awful tired.”
I shake my head then have an idea. Mom always had me sit behind her patients, touching them. She said I helped to ease their pain that way. I know Ash isn’t going into labor or anything, but maybe I can do more that way. Grandma B helps me. She’s just humoring me. I don’t know why. She hasn’t done that since before Mom’s death.
I sit now, Ash’s head in my lap. My hands rest on either side of his head. The sun shines upon my back. I can feel its strength. I close my eyes. Talents, my father said, healer my father said. Well healing talents, come now or I may have to let Ash go. I don’t want to, I want to find out if I have the courage to look into his eyes and see what color they are.
Dad bangs on the table again. I jump slightly. He sighs as he returns to us. I know that look. He has bad news.
“No one will come.” He tells my grandma.
Grandma B shakes her head. “I told you, they won’t come if they don’t know and they won’t come if they do. It’s the Devil’s Flat curse.”
I scowl. They can take that curse and shove it, for all I care. Then I remember something Gloria told me on the bus. “Call Gloria.”
I ignore my Grandma and look at Dad. “Her Aunt and Uncle are rich; they’ve got a whole island complete with medical facility. We can take Ash there.”
“That’s lot to ask of a friend honey.”
Grandma’s doubtful but I keep looking at Dad. “Please, can you just call and ask?”
“And how are we going to get there?”
I look at Grandma B, “Where there’s a will there’s a way.” It’s one of her own favorite sayings.
“I’ll call.” Dad states and heads into the kitchen.
I may be shy but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a will. If there’s a way to save Ash I will. Something fierce has gripped me. I don’t know what it is but I’m not about to let it go.