Read Guardian of Eden Online

Authors: Leslie DuBois

Guardian of Eden (5 page)

For some reason, he was a taboo topic. I wanted to ask her to go on, but I figured she would clam up and end the conversation like always. Fortunately, she seemed ready to talk without any prodding. She took a vase out of the cabinet under the sink and filled it with water as she said, “He was the sexiest man I’d ever seen in my life. He was 6’5”, muscles everywhere, dark chocolate skin, and a smile that made me weak in the knees. We were only sixteen when we had you.” My mother took the vase, put the flowers in it then walked toward the living room.

“Did you love him?” I asked, following her. She nodded.

“I still do,” she said wistfully as she stared at nothing.

“Why did he go to jail? What did he do?”

“Gary, I need help with my homework,” Eden called from her bedroom.

“Garrett, help your sister, then get changed for dinner,” my mother said, snapping out of her reverie and nervously wiping her hands on her skirt. She tried to sound authoritative and motherly. She didn’t have to tell me to help my sister. I always did it anyway. “We’re having a visitor for dinner.” She smiled and bounced into the kitchen. It was like she just flipped a switch and reverted back to her carefree demeanor without a second thought about my father or the conversation we were just having.


Hol
…Mother! What did we just talk about?” I followed her back into the kitchen. “You can’t just bring some guy into our home.”

“He’s not just some guy. He’s
the
guy. I really like this one. He’s different, I swear,” she exclaimed clasping her hands like an infatuated teenager. “I met him at the salon. He’s a photographer. He has his own studio and everything. And best of all, he treats me real good.”

“Well,” I corrected her.

“Well, what?”

“He treats you well not…oh never mind.” I wanted to scream and punch the wall, but I had to control my temper. Richard and my social worker were still concerned about my anger level. I took a deep breath then went to help Eden with her homework.

 

***

 

“So, do you like this one?” Richard asked in reference to my mother’s new boyfriend, Corbin. Before I could even answer he took the cap off of his pen and started writing. I hated when he did that. It made me feel like my answer didn’t matter.

“He’s okay.” I shifted uncomfortably in the miniscule chair. All of the furniture in his office was too small. He was a child psychologist and I was no longer a child. I was fifteen and over six feet tall, but my social worker still wanted me to see him every month.

Richard stopped writing and looked up from his notepad. “Did you say ‘he’s okay’?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ve never described one of your mother’s boyfriends as ‘okay’.” I shrugged as Richard began flipping through his notes. “According to my records, Tom was insipid, Brian was asinine, Larry was intolerable,
Jimmy
was virulent. I don’t even know what that means.”

"Virulent - adjective.
Intensely bitter, spiteful or malicious."

“Buster was inadequately compensating for his intellectual and physical deficiencies,” Richard continued reading from his notes and ignored my interjection. “And Joel was the Devil incarnate.” He looked up and waited for me to respond. When I didn’t he said, “You must really like this guy.”

“He’s okay,” I repeated while folding my arms over my chest. Honestly, he was more than okay. He was wonderful. My mother was right. He
was
different. That first night he came for dinner, he not only brought my mother flowers, but he brought Eden a doll and brought me an exquisite antique thesaurus. No man had ever brought my mother flowers let alone gifts for me and Eden. I’d tried for six months to find fault with him and I couldn’t. He was like a light that had entered our dark lives.

“Well, according to Eden, he’s the best thing to ever happen to your family.” I didn’t say anything, but Richard started scribbling furiously.

“What are you writing?” I yelled.

“Do you really want to know?”

“No, I don’t want to know. I’m just asking because I enjoy the docile tone of my own voice.” Richard rolled his eyes at my sarcasm and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. Large wet circles were forming under his armpits. Even though I’d known him for over ten years, I think he was afraid of me. I think my intelligence made him nervous.

“Simply stated, I think you have a Superman complex.” Here we go again. Richard tried to relate everything to comic books. I think it came from him being a child psychologist for too long. “You’re not happy unless you’re rescuing someone. You need to be needed. If you’re saving your mother or Eden, you know where you belong, you know what to do. Now that Corbin has come along and proven to be a good guy, there’s no one for you to save. And you don’t know what to do.” Richard sat back and waited for my smart aleck retort, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. He was so shocked by my
silence,
his formidable ass nearly fell out of the chair.

What if he was right? Up until that point, the events in my life had fashioned me into the hero of the family. I made sure food was in the house. I made sure Eden went to school every day and that Holly got up for work. I was the one that chased away old boyfriends at knife point in the middle of the night or threw away my mother’s drugs or alcohol in order to keep her sober. Now there was Corbin.

 

***

 

"I wrote you a poem," Eden said to Corbin one night while we were having dinner. I'd infused my love of words into Eden and she slowly developed into a talented poetess. She stood up from the table and took a sheet of pink paper out of her pocket. She cleared her throat and read:

 

With the flash of a camera

A new picture has begun

The dark clouds have parted

Here comes the sun

No need for fear as our plight has ended

Our hope has come

A new family transcended

Let there be joy

Let there be light

Let there be emotion

With no more fright

Let there be peace

Let there be light

Let our mistaken path

Become right

 

 Corbin cried and a week later, he proposed to my mother.

 Now that we were safe and happy, I guess, in a way I felt less relevant. I felt like less of a man. That was until I met
Maddie
.

Chapter 4: Swallowed Soul

 

I’ll never forget the feeling I had the first time I took in her enchanting blue eyes. My heart pounded in my throat. I leaned against my locker to portray an air of aloofness when in reality I needed a solid object for support. Immediately the words for my next poem came to mind. I didn’t write poetry too often, only when I was truly inspired.

“You must be Garrett Anthony,” she said.

“No…,”

 “You’re not?” Her eyes widened with disappointment. She really wanted me to be Garrett Anthony. Looking at her little round face, I wanted to be anything she wanted me to be. Then, suddenly, I remembered, I
was
Garrett Anthony. I had to get used to going by Corbin’s last name. The adoption wasn’t final. He still had to get Eden’s father and my father to sign away their parental rights. Both men were making the situation difficult.

 After the wedding, Corbin decided to send us both to Barton Arms Preparatory School. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t like the idea of wearing a uniform everyday or riding the metro for forty-five minutes into D.C. each morning and afternoon. I also didn’t think I’d fit in at this school. I’m surprised they even accepted me given my “propensity for violent outbursts” as Richard put it, but they did. The only reason I agreed to go was because it meant Eden and I could go to the same school. I think deep down I liked the idea of getting such a good education from such a reputable school, but I just didn’t feel like I deserved it or that it would last.

 “I mean, yes, I am Garrett Anthony. I’m just not used to the name, yet.” She smiled broadly and stared up into my eyes. I waited for her to keep talking and explain how she knew my name, but she didn’t. She just smiled and stared at me. I didn’t mind really. I enjoyed looking at her. I could’ve stared into her eyes all day.

 “Oh! I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I’m staring. I don’t mean to stare. I’m doing an article for you about the newspaper.” I raised an eyebrow in confusion and relaxed in the knowledge that she was just as nervous and had a harder time hiding it. “No, I mean,” she giggled. “I’m doing an article
about
you
for
the newspaper.”

 “Me? Why are you writing an article about me?”

Her mouth flew open. I could read the shock and bewilderment in her eyes. They overflowed with honesty and expression betraying any emotion she could possibly feel.

 “Are you kidding me?” She swallowed hard and licked her lips. My God, she had beautiful lips. They were so full and red and just plain succulent. I didn’t even know the girl’s name and I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her so badly my chest began to ache. “You earned a perfect score on the SATs and you took them in the ninth grade! You finished the entrance exam to get into this school in record time. I heard that the admissions department wanted you to come here so badly that they didn’t even ask you to cut your hair.”

 I touched my ponytail as I inspected the students passing by. They looked like white clean-cut robots
-  an
army of future Ivy-leaguers preparing to start their today in preparation for bright, powerful tomorrows. I really didn’t fit in. How did I end up going from foster homes and psychologists to Barton Arms Preparatory School? It was a tenuous dream wrought upon a bubble of uncertainty. And I knew the bubble would soon burst.

“You’re not going to print that are you?” The last thing I needed was for them to change their mind and decide to make me cut my hair.

“Don’t worry. It won’t matter. No one reads my articles anyway.”

“I’d read them.” The beautiful blue-eyed creature turned red and stared at her shoes while adjusting her overloaded backpack. I think I embarrassed her.

“Well, anyway,” she said as the first bell rang, “Can I interview you for my story?”

“Yeah sure.
Of course.”

“Okay, great.”

“Okay.”

“It was nice to meet you, Garrett,” she said as she backed away while still embracing me with her eyes. Suddenly, she stopped short and ran back to me, her blond curls bouncing all the way. “I’m Madison, like the president. Not the current president, like the fourth president of this country, but, of course, you would know that since you’re a genius.” She blushed again and looked down at her shoes. “Um, anyway, everyone calls me
Maddie
.”

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