The Girl With Aquamarine Eyes (5 page)

A small boy had fallen from the slide. The one spot, the
only spot where the cold metal didn’t quite meet the joint, his head found. As
if it had attracted the boy like a tornado to a trailer park. He laid in the
sand, crying and screaming in agony. An ugly gash traced its way across his
forehead.

She rushed to his side and placed her hand over the gaping
wound, hoping to stop the flow of blood until the teachers arrived. When they
finally came to her calls for help, she lifted her hand away from the wound. To
her horror, the injury had disappeared. As if it had never been there to begin
with. As if the entire ordeal was a cruel joke, or a figment of her
imagination.

She’d gazed at her blistered palm, but even the blood had
somehow evaporated. The teachers pulled her away from the unhurt boy, scolded
her and dubbed her a liar.

One particularly domineering nun grabbed her arm, dragged
her back into the cold building and locked her in her room. Forevermore, she
was shunned.

Before the home, she could remember nothing. Now, she was in
a strange room, in a strange place, full of objects she couldn’t remember the
names of. A strange man with strange pictures on his arms was looking at her,
well, strangely. She’d be shunned again. She fell back onto the bed and wept.

“Don’t cry.” Harmon whispered. “Whatever it is about you, I
will try to accept. No one has to know, all right? I promise I won’t say a
word.”

She sniffed. “All right.”

“Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning. I want to show
you around this fortress. Then we’re going to get you some clothes, and a
tutor.”

“A what?”

“A tutor is a teacher. You have a lot to catch up on.”

“No. I don’t want to go to school, the children hate me.”

“She’ll come here if you prefer.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“New clothes? I get new clothes?”

“Of course. I’ll have Bice pick you up some things tomorrow.”

She grabbed the magazine and shoved it into his face. “I
want a dress like this.” She jabbed her finger at the glossy photo.

Harmon gazed at the beautiful model. She was wearing a
breathtaking white gown. “No, that’s a wedding gown. You won’t need one of
those for a long time.” He shuddered at the mere thought of marriage. How dare
his ex bring a bridal magazine into his home. He’d be sure to use it to light
the fireplace in his study.

“Bedtime, see you in the morning.” He gazed at her a moment
longer, turned out the light and quietly left the room.

* * *

The following morning, Bice poked his head into Heaven’s room.

“Good morning.” He beamed. “I hear Harmon is going to show
you around the fortress today.”

Heaven sat at the vanity table slowly brushing her golden
hair. She stared into the mirror at the handsome man behind her. He was
absolutely grinning from ear to ear. He reeked of happiness, his dark eyes
glittered in anticipation of the day’s outing. She’d been happy too. Before she
was taken from the island.

Try as she might, she didn’t understand why Harmon wanted to
give her this new life. A life of luxury, of security and of comfort. She
watched in the mirror, as Bice moved up behind her.

“I also hear he’s getting you a tutor. How about that?”

She turned from the mirror and gazed at him. “I’m not sure
what to think. I don’t even know you people. How can I be happy about anything,
when everything I’ve ever known is gone?”

“Give it time, Heaven. Harmon wanted more than anything to
help you. Give him a chance. He has a lot of guilt for what happened that day
on the beach. He felt he could have done more for you .”

She slowly ran the brush through her hair again, and stared
at the floor. There were so many things she didn’t understand about herself.
She’d been shunned from the beginning at the orphanage, through no fault of her
own. So, she snuck away and it seemed it hadn’t mattered to anyone. Except for
one person. Harmon Steele.

The world had forgotten her, except for him. If she’d only
agreed to leave the island with him that day. If she only believed him when he
told her a deadly storm was coming. But, she didn’t remember him.

“Heaven? Are you still with me?”

His eyes fell to her hand. The hand she was brushing her
hair with. The bandage was gone. He remembered he’d asked Bonita to wrap it the
night before. He knew she bandaged it, she’d mentioned it later.

He watched as she sat the brush down on the vanity and
turned toward him. His eyes grew wide as he studied her palm. The reddened skin
was no more, the blisters were gone. A perfectly normal hand. He followed her
hand down to her thigh, slowly letting his eyes fall to her legs. Normal,
perfect legs.

He could feel his heart beginning to pound. He finally
wrenched his gaze from her and stared at the stained-glass window. The majestic
peacock still graced its center, its hundred blue eyes still stared down at
him. As before. Perfect. Everything was perfect. Much too perfect.

He’d stood in this very spot only last night and for the
first time in his life, fainted. Harmon was right. There was something about
this girl, something beyond explanation. Now, he could feel it too as he gazed
into her aquamarine eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shook his head clear, hoping his heart would slow down.
He didn’t want her to see him during a weak moment. He was certainly having
one.

“Your hand.” He stuttered. “Your hand is better. It was
burned terribly last night.” He pulled a chair beside her. “Do you mind telling
me what the hell is going on around here?”

She studied him slyly. “Your mouth reeks of a man who rides
on boats.”

“Do you mean a sailor? Sorry, I’ve been hanging around with
Harmon’s band too long. So tell me, what’s up with you? You caused both Harmon
and myself to faint last night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. Please tell me how you did it. What
tricks do you have up your sleeves?”

“None. Harmon asked me the same thing last night. No one
would understand. I don’t even understand. I am what I am, some kind of a
freak.”

“No, you’re not. You’re special, that’s all. Don’t let
anyone tell you otherwise. Now, lets get something to eat and we’ll show you
around.”

He knew he would never understand what occurred the night
before. He couldn’t come close to understanding himself. After some time, maybe
she’d open up to him one day and explain. Or, maybe he’d figure it out. In the
meantime, he planned to keep a close eye on her.

The pair headed out the door and down the long corridor. The
halls were hung with magnificent paintings, crystal chandeliers lit the way. He
offered her his arm as they approached the grand staircase. She took it, and
together they descended into magnificence.

“Who is the gorilla who carried Harmon out of my room last
night?” She asked as they reached the lower floor.

Bice chuckled. “That’s Hawk, Harmon’s bodyguard. He lives
here, and travels with us when Harmon is on tour. Fact is, since you’ve arrived
Harmon has decided to take a year off. But Hawk will stay, he’s part of the
family now. Be prepared, he doesn’t talk much.”

“Who is the woman who came into my room last night?”

“That is Bonita, the head housekeeper and Harmon’s cook. A
mighty fine one at that. There is also Pedro the gardener, and Thornton, Harmon’s
majordomo.”

“His what?”

“A majordomo, as Harmon likes to call him. He’s a butler, a
chauffer and head of the household. Plus, there are a few other maids around.
Thornton lives for being able to keep them jumping and hopping.”

“How many people live here?”

“Including you, ten.” He waved her down the hallway toward
the dining area, and showed her a chair. “The house is huge, and there are two
wings. The staff is on one side. You and I, Harmon and Hawk are on the other.
It stays pretty quiet around here, believe it or not. Until you arrived.”

“Why don’t I remember coming here?” She watched Bonita place
their breakfasts in front of them. “I remember waking up, seeing Harmon and
screaming. Nothing before that.”

“You were still out of it when you arrived.” He sipped his
coffee. “Harmon insisted on bringing you home. The doctors told him they’d done
all they could for you. He felt there was no sense keeping you at the hospital
a moment longer.”

“Did I hear my name?” Harmon asked, as he strolled in. “Are
you two plotting against me?”

“Good morning.” Bice smiled. “I was explaining to Heaven how
she wound up in this dump.” He slapped the table and roared with laughter,
nearly knocking his coffee over.

Harmon chuckled and took a chair next to Heaven. “How are
you this morning?”

She gazed at the handsome musician. His green eyes simply
glowed, his auburn hair ablaze in the sunlight which streamed through the
window behind him. He too, was a handsome man. Perhaps the most handsome man
she’d ever seen.

Regardless, he’d caused a tree to fall on her and crush her
legs. For that, she’d never forgive. But she had to play the cards, the cards
dealt to her, one at a time. Until she could find a way to reunite with Dreams.

“I’m fine.” She lied.

* * *

After breakfast, Bice and Harmon gave Heaven a tour of the mansion.

She was in awe at the magnificence of the manor. It was fit
for a King. They showed her the movie theater, the recording studio, the butler
and maid quarters, the library and the bowling alley.

They each offered to remind her of the names of the objects
she noticed, realizing she’d forgotten many of them. They were kind enough to
help her without causing her embarrassment.

“This is a baby grand piano.” Harmon explained, as they
entered the studio. The instrument gleamed white in the morning sunlight.

“Why are there plates on the wall?”

“Those are gold records.” Bice replied. “Harmon used to get
one of those when one of his albums sold well.”

Harmon cocked an eyebrow at the pair. “Let’s head outside
and show you around.”

Soon, they were walking across the expansive lawn. Harmon
showed her the enormous marble statues, explaining where each came from. Next,
they found themselves gazing at the blue waters of the pool.

“Come this way, I’ll show you the garage and hangar.” Harmon
said.

“A hangar? What is that?”

“Where I keep my planes.”

She gazed at the long garage as they approached it. Fifteen
bays held fifteen sleek cars. Unusual cars of every shape and size, cars which
she’d never seen before. She stared in awe at the gleaming metals and polished
chrome, lightly running her fingers down each.

“Over here is the hangar.” Bice motioned for her to follow. “Harmon
has two planes, a jet for when he travels out of the country and a smaller
plane which he flies around the states.”

She gazed at the magnificent jet, tracing its protruding
nose which pointed skyward with her finger. Beside it, a small plane sat in its
shadow. Blue and white stripes crossed over it, another blue stripe spanned
each wing.

She remembered this plane. She closed her eyes and tried to
recall why it was familiar.

Her thoughts took her back to the island. She and Dreams
were laying on the beach, gazing into the sky. They were lazily laid back on
the white sands, enjoying the evening sun. She’d dozed off, but had been
abruptly awaken by the sound of a droning engine.

A small blue and white plane circled overhead. It flew low,
almost too low. It continued to circle, around and around, and as suddenly as
it arrived, it vanished.

She was standing in front of the very same plane. The same
blue and white stripes, the same striped blue wings. The same plane which
carried the men who’d gone back and sent the boat. The boat which Harmon Steele
sailed on. The man who’d brought her here, and who sent Dreams back to the
orphanage.

She gazed at Harmon. “Where’s the boat?”

“What boat?”

“The boat you came to the island on.”

“It’s at the marina.”

She studied him closely. He reeked of casual indifference.
The obvious lack of understanding of her not having a choice in the matter. He’d
taken her against her will from the island, storm or no storm.

She and Dreams may have survived the hurricane if given half
a chance. But they were never given the chance, thanks to his preoccupation
getting her back into the states in an apparent attempt to quench his
all-consuming guilt.

She slowly backed away from him. Away from the planes, away
from the fancy cars in their fancy garage, away from his castle, his gold records
and marbled statues.

This was a man who fancied on the materialistic. Someone who
collected pretty objects to sit on a shelf, or in a garage or hanger. She
wouldn’t be his object. She was her own person and she would find Dreams, one
way or another. Her patience had worn thin. She was sick and tired of being
nice.

“Heaven?” Bice stared at the girl, unsure of what she might
be thinking. He carefully watched her gape at the plane. Her face had grown
rigid the moment she set eyes on it. The distant look which darkened her eyes
was unmistakable.

She ignored him, and continued to back away. Her eyes were a
mixture of fear, of disdain and of anger. Finally, she spun on her heel and
raced away.

“What happened?” Harmon asked. “What did I say wrong?”

“She’s heading to the cliffs!” Bice rushed after her.

“Heaven, wait!” Harmon leapt after the pair. “It’s dangerous
over there.”

She ignored the pair, and continued to stumble away. They
were yelling at her, but she didn’t care. The vast ocean loomed only a dozen
yards ahead. The sea of memories and monsters was right around the corner. She’d
dive in, and let the waves carry her away.