Coldhearted (9781311888433) (12 page)

Stung, she jerked her hand back, holding it
against her other one, soothing it. The brightly-lit chandelier,
despite being on for hours, was ice cold. She collapsed back down
on her bed and wrapped the blanket around her, but it didn’t feel
like a warm, comforting blanket. It felt like someone’s cold and
calculating arms were wrapped around her body.

“
Edie,” a voice whispered in
her ear. “Don’t you want to join your parents?”

She leapt off the bed and realized that she
still had her ear buds secured. She yanked them out and threw the
iPod on the floor…next to her blanket. How…?

She looked at her bed and discovered a
depression into the mattress, a sunken spot right behind where
she’d been sitting, moments ago. Now an invisible person was
sitting on her bed.

She stifled a scream and closed her eyes,
counting ten Mississippis, while clutching her necklace for
security.

“
Eleven Mississippi,” she
added for good measure, and then opened her eyes.

The depression was gone; her mattress was
undisturbed. She was still cold but not freezing like she’d been
before. She couldn’t see her breath, as she inhaled, then exhaled,
to calm her racing heart. As it slowed to a normal rhythm, she
retrieved her blanket and placed it back on the bed, then her iPod.
She could hear a song playing and secured one ear bud, listening
in. It wasn’t a song; it was a children’s prayer:

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take

It ended, followed by white noise, then
nothing. She closed her eyes and said a prayer of her own. When she
was done, she checked the iPod. The pop song that she’d been
listening to was still playing, as if it’d never been interrupted.
She sat on the bed, and rocked back and forth, praying again, but
now it was a plea for her sanity to return. When she still felt the
same, she remembered the chapel. That’d be a better venue. She
bundled up and went outside. It was night and freezing cold. Light
snow was falling, but it seemed like it was purposely dumping
itself on her.

Flood lights around the house illuminated the
front. She realized that the maze connected to the chapel. You
couldn’t reach the chapel without going through the maze first. The
hedge labyrinth started in the front, and then wound around the
back of the house, where if you managed not to give up, took you
inside the chapel.

She heard a door creak open behind her.

“
Edie?”

She yelped and turned to discover her uncle,
standing at the threshold with bare feet. He was only wearing a
wrinkled white T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. He had green
eyes, and his hair was black like her dad’s, except Uncle Landon’s
was long, secured into a ponytail. Edie had gotten her blonde hair
from her mom.

One hand was resting on the doorframe, while
the other held a newly-lit cigarette between two fingers.

“
You okay?” he
asked.

No.

“
Yes,” she lied.

He took a drag, and then exhaled, blowing out
a trail of smoke. “What’re you doing out here?”

“
Why is the maze attached to
the chapel?” she asked instead.

Uncle Landon took another drag, then exhaled,
and joined Edie outside, sinking his bare feet into the snowy
ground. “It’s about the journey,” he finally replied, and then
flicked ash on the snow, melting it. “The journey of life,” he
clarified. “Life isn’t a straight course, Edie. There are twists
and turns and obstacles, yeah? You’ll take wrong turns. You’ll make
wrong choices, but eventually, if you persevere, if you want it bad
enough, you won’t give up, and you’ll make it to the end.” He put
the cigarette back in his mouth again.

“
The chapel’s at the
end?”

“
The chapel represents the
prize, Edie,” he said in a muffled voice, the cigarette being an
obstacle that he was unwilling to remove.

“
And what’s the
prize?”

He took another drag, and then exhaled,
withdrawing the cigarette from his mouth. “Why, immortality, of
course. What’s the point of living and suffering if there isn’t a
reward?”

“
Have you gone through the
maze?” she asked.

Instead of immediately answering, he finished
his cigarette, and then snuffed it out into the snow; smoke rose
from the ground into the form of a stretched finger, pointing up at
the starry sky.

“
No,” he finally replied
succinctly.

“
You mean you haven’t
started, or you’ve gotten lost, and had to turn around?”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I
haven’t started.”

“
Why?”

He let out a small smile. “I’m afraid.”

Edie advanced, but still kept some distance
between them. After all, they were practically strangers, despite
sharing the same blood.

“
You’re afraid if you can’t
reach the chapel, you won’t be granted immortality?”

He shook his head, causing his ponytail to
sway; his hair was damp from the fallen snow. “No, it’s not like
that. Like I said, the maze represents life, or better yet, our
mortality on this earth. The chapel represents immortality,
admission into Heaven. Even though they’re representations, they’re
fully functional. So, if I fail on earth, then Heaven is out of
reach, thus a feeling of rejection, of dismissal. I am condemned to
an everlasting death, as if I’d never existed at all.”

“
If you don’t try, you’ll
never know,” she pointed out.

“
That’s just it: I’m afraid
to try because I’m certain I’d fail. I’d rather just avoid it than
face that reality.”

“
You mean face the
truth?”

He nodded and lit another cigarette. “You
understand, Edie.” He took a slow drag, enjoying every bit of the
tobacco, and then exhaled. “It’s all about truth and being too
afraid to know it, to keep yourself in the dark, because in dark
places, you can’t see the sins you’ve committed.” He paused, and
then continued, “Romans, chapter 3, verse 23: ‘For all have sinned
and fall short of the glory of God.’”

Edie added, “Romans, chapter 3, verse 24:
‘and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption
that came by Christ Jesus.’”

Uncle Landon smiled while blowing out a trail
of smoke. “Through his sacrifice, yes, we are saved.” His smile
faded. “On the cross, when Jesus knew he had to die, so others
could live, suffering, he still cried out, ‘My God, my God, why
have you forsaken me?!’

You see, he too was afraid. He was afraid
even though he’d never committed a sin. So I ask you Edie: why
should I, a sinful man, not be afraid to face the truth?”

She didn’t know how to reply, so instead, she
asked, “Is that why you write stories because you feel you can
control your characters’ fates when you can’t control your
own?”

Uncle Landon looked at her curiously. “My
brother was right: you’re smart as a whip.”

“
My dad said that?” she
asked, on the verge of crying.

Uncle Landon nodded. “Loren said you were
smart and beautiful and you made him very proud.”

The tears fell then. She was wiping them away
when she felt an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go inside,” he
encouraged softly. Uncle Landon guided her back into the house
while she dried her face. He finished his cigarette and snuffed it
out into a nearby ashtray.

“
Do you miss him?” she
asked, considering her uncle had yet to shed a tear.

“
Every day,” he replied
softly.

“
Then why haven’t you
cried?” she asked rather harshly.

Uncle Landon hesitated, and then said, “I’ve
cried oceans, Edie. I don’t think I can cry anymore.”

Edie thought that if her uncle were to cut
his hair, he’d look exactly like her dad. But he wasn’t her dad.
Her dad was dead, along with her mom. Uncle Landon was all she had
now, and even though he wasn’t the most attentive, he was better
than being alone.

She took a tentative step forward, initiating
a hug. He hesitated, and then lightly wrapped his arms around her.
They embraced. It was the first time that they’d ever hugged. At
the funeral, he’d given her a light pat on her back, afraid to
touch her. He still seemed afraid, holding her gently with a space
between their bodies. He was the first to let go.

It seemed that he couldn’t quite accept the
fact that a real person was in his life.

“
Sweet dreams,” he said, and
went back to his sanctuary.

****

It was midnight.

Edie was lying awake in bed, unable to sleep,
thus, unable to dream. She thought that she heard a shout, but
ignored it, until she heard it again, and then realized it was her
uncle.

A deep voice cried, “My God, my God, why have
you forsaken me?!”

She rushed out, looked all around, and then
found her uncle, still in his T-shirt and jeans, lying on the sofa
in the living room. His eyes were closed, and his teeth were
chattering, but he didn’t seem cold. He was actually sweating
buckets.

She shook him awake. He opened his eyes and
bolted up. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Uncle Landon was speechless. His eyes were
darting back and forth until he found her, and then he opened his
mouth, finding his voice. “I was having a nightmare.” He grabbed
his head. “But it was so real!”

Edie synched the robe around her and sat on
the coffee table, facing him. “What happened?”

“
I…I was being…crucified.”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “Guess we shouldn’t talk about such
heavy, theological stuff right before bed, yeah?” He was trembling.
“Why am I so cold? And sweaty?” he added, feeling his wet
face.

Edie went to a nearby closet, where she
retrieved a blanket, and then brought it back to him. He wrapped it
around his body, still shivering. She was cold too, feeling icy
fingertips dance along her spine, but right now, she was more
concerned with her uncle than herself.

“
Uncle Landon, maybe you
should go to your room,” she suggested. “Lie down in
bed.”

He shook his head and lit a cigarette. He
took a long drag, letting every bit of tobacco enter his lungs, and
then he exhaled, slowly.

A smile spread across his face. “All better
now,” he said, self-diagnosing.

“
That’s not good for your
health, you know,” she lectured mildly.

He took another drag, and then exhaled.
“Neither are nightmares,” he countered with a wry smile.

Chapter 10

Edie did her best to stay awake during math
but it was hard.

One, she hadn’t gotten any sleep the previous
night. Two, she hated math, and it took a fun teacher to keep her
awake. Mr. Droll was the very opposite of his name. Severe, with a
bad comb-over, and pants hiked too far up his chest, the elderly
teacher needed to retire—now. She jumped for joy when the bell rang
and went on to English.

Mrs. Featherstone looked up and smiled at
Edie, but she didn’t move from her desk, didn’t say anything. Edie
kept her distance out of respect, figuring Mrs. Featherstone would
approach when she was ready. Mason arrived just after Edie, gave a
nod to Mrs. Featherstone, and then greeted Edie with a big
grin.

“
Hey, Edie, so how’s your
day going so far?”

“
Good.” She took her seat,
and then frowned. “I’m lying, actually. I had math first period
with Mr. Droll, and I was actually contemplating
suicide.”

“
Yeah, I know what you
mean,” he said, taking his seat behind her. “I took calculus last
year and barely passed. If his voice doesn’t put you to sleep, it’s
him always repeating everything over and over, or clicking his pen
all the time, or that facial tick—and I know it’s not his fault—but
it’s really annoying.”

She nodded in agreement. “Is there another
teacher who I could take for calculus? You know, just switch
classes?”

Mason shook his head. “Sorry, Edie. You’re
doomed.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Bummer.”

“
Hey, Edie,” a deep, sexy
voice greeted her.

She turned and saw Quinn, the football
player. He was tall and handsome with a smug demeanor. Quinn
McDermott was who Rochelle had cheated on Mason with, so Edie
didn’t like him very much, but she smiled, being a nice person.

“
Hey,” she greeted
back.

Quinn gave her a genuine smile back. “So…got
a date for the Halloween dance?”

She was taken aback, not knowing what to
say.

Mason helped her out. “Yeah, she’s going with
me.” He sounded…territorial.

She hadn’t really thought about it, with
everything going on, like her losing her mind, but…okay.

Quinn’s smile faded, as if he were truly
disappointed that Edie already had a date. He gave her one last
look, and then turned toward the front. A girl with pink-dyed
hair—Candie, Edie remembered from her psych class—was sitting
behind Quinn, looking expectant, as if she were waiting for him to
turn around and ask her to the dance. Quinn denied her, flipping
haphazardly through his textbook. Candie visibly sank into her
seat.

Mason leaned forward and whispered, “Would
you like to go to the dance with me?”

Edie smiled. “Yes.”

He smiled back. “Great.”

“
When’s the dance?” she
asked.

“
A few weeks from now, so
we’ll have time to figure out what we want to go as.”

“
Okay, great,” she said,
elated that she’d finally been asked to a dance.