The Glass Secret (Chain of Secrets) (19 page)

All of my teachers claimed that I was very precocious for my age, and that I could handle some things most adults could not. Storm brought out the best and the worst in me. I behaved defensively and acted like a spoiled brat when he kept things from me, especially when it came to his true identity. This was something that he never wanted to discuss, which gave me one big reason to distrust him. I didn’t have time to sit around waiting on Storm to tell me the truth about who he was. My impatience waned as the years drew on.

It’s funny how time seems to drag on when you are a kid. I remember it took forever to go from our house to my grandmother’s house, and it seemed like the month of December, waiting for Santa to arrive, was the longest month of them all. However, this all changed rapidly the older I got. Everything changes, as we get older.

Science says time is retroactive. When you are four years old, one year is 25% of your life...so, one year to a child drags on. The chronological distortions we suffered as children were not due to impatience; they were truly long periods of time to endure. As for adults, let’s say for someone who is forty years old, one year is only 2% of their lifetime, hence, the years fly by much more quickly for adults.

For long periods of time, my life dragged on, it seemed as if it was Storm and I against the world. Despite the fact that Storm had an arrogant attitude every now and then, we still bonded in a weird way. I knew that he had my best interest at heart. Of course he did, after all he was my angel, but his over protective ways were waning on me. His behavior made me feel like he was a stalker sometimes. He was disruptive and showed up whenever he wanted to, regardless of whether or not I wanted him around. It could be quite annoying at times.

I liked how you told your teacher today that she shouldn’t wear all that make-up,” S
torm said.

“You liked that? I got suspended, and I am grounded in my room for a week!” I bellowed and threw myself onto my bed. “I was only trying to help her!”

“Yeah, now you and I can hang out all day long.”

“Hum...really? You mean until I start asking you questions about who you really are, or where you came from and where you go when you disappear?  Right?”

“I will tell you one day...when the time is right.”

“The time is right now! I will be fourteen in two days. You promised—”

He interrupted me and said,
“No. It is too soon.”

“Fine, be an ass,”
I whispered.

“Hey, where are you learning to talk like that?”
Storm demanded to know.

“I am teenager now, if you haven’t noticed. It’s how we talk. Besides, I’ve learned a lot of bad words from you,” I stammered back. He didn’t respond, how could he?

I glanced at myself in the mirror as I passed by my closet. Not bad. I was thin, tall and my bosoms were growing nicely. My hair wasn’t as curly as it once had been since it now hung down past my waist. I guessed that the weight of it pulled out most of my ringlets, making it long and wavy instead of a corkscrew curly mess.

I climbed to the center of my bed, digging through my mother’s make-up bag. I snuck it out of her room earlier that day. I didn’t think that she would miss it; she hardly wore any make-up as it was.

“What do you look like, Storm?”

“Why? Does it matter?”

“Not really. But, if you’re like...hmm, super ugly...it might.”

“I am not ugly,”
he retaliated.

“So, do you have wings?”

“No wings,”
he confirmed.

“Really? No wings, huh. How about horns and a tail?”

“Hum, maybe,”
he said and chuckled, arrogantly.

“Gross,” I said as I applied a slick layer of lipstick on my full lips.

“What are you doing? You’re so quiet?”

“Making myself prettier.” I puckered and viewed my lips in the small compact mirror. Up close, my lips practically filled the entire space of the mirror.

“Why, for who?”

“Myself. I was wondering since I have never asked you, can you see me?”

“Sometimes, but mostly though I see shadows of you, and of others who are near you. But, I do not see you clearly.”

“Hum. Well, from what you
do
see...do you think I am beautiful?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Well, if
you
think I’m pretty, then maybe other boys will too.”

I heard him sigh loudly, mumbling under his breath,
“Who cares what boys think?”

“I do,” I stammered. “Answer me or get out of my head.”

“I don’t know.”
He paused, leaving me hanging for what seemed entirely too long of a time, especially for what should have been a simple answer.
“You’re pretty on the inside,”
he laughed loudly.

“Storm, that’s not funny.”

“Okay, I will tell you a secret.”

“Really?”

“Are you dressed?”

“Yes. Why?” I exclaimed.

“Then go stand in front of a full length mirror.”

Although I was hesitant to do so, I stood up and opened my closet. There was a full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the door.

“Here I am.”

I looked at myself up and down appraisingly. My narrows hips jutted out to one side, it was my favorite pose. I was wearing low-rise faded jeans rolled up at my ankles, a pink v-neck tee and black ballerina slippers. My thick blonde hair was secured back in a loose ponytail that hung just beyond my waist. The tiny little rhinestone bobby pins that were holding back my long fringe sparkled nicely. In full-faced make-up—lipstick, eye shadow and all, I looked much older than I was, maybe even eighteen.

“What are you thinking?”
Storm interrupted myself examination.

“I don’t know, Storm. My forehead is too big, my eyes are not big enough and my lips are taking over my face. I look like an alien,” I whined.

“Brielle, you are an angel...and you are becoming a very beautiful young woman.”

“What! You can see me?”

“Yes, that’s the secret. When you see your own reflection, I can see you very clearly.”

“Oh my God! You mean all these years you could see me when I looked into a mirror?” I gasped and quickly slammed the door shut.

“Brielle, I would never invade your privacy. I always shut my eyes when you look at yourself—when you are, uh, you know—
” Storm stuttered, seemingly embarrassed.

“You better, Buster!”

“I would never look at you when you are, well, getting undressed, or dressed, you know, things of that nature.”

I wanted to trust him. The thought of Storm seeing me naked was something I had never thought about before. The thought simply had never crossed my mind. But, now that my body was changing in places, that even I didn’t look at, I would have to take extra precautions before just stripping down. Great, this revelation left me with no privacy at all.

“There are things happening—growing under these clothes—private things that you don’t need to be looking at. Got it?”

“Don’t worry. I promise not to look.”
His tone sounded extremely sincere and for some reason, I believed him. After all, angels don’t lie.

“Where are you? I mean...I know you’re in my head but where are you, really?”

“I am with you.”

“So, does that mean that you don’t have a body?”

“No—I do—Sort of...”
His words were suspicious, and I could tell that he was stalling. I feared that he was not going to tell me what he really meant.

“Then, why can’t I see you?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I can understand complicated things. Jeez.”

“Like I told you earlier, I will tell you when it’s time.”

“When?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t”

“Why?”

“Brielle, stop it.”

“Stop, what?”

“What you are doing,”
he quipped.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because...why?”

“Because. I said so!”

“So, what sh
ould I sew for you?” I burst into maddening laughter and put my headset on before he could have a comeback. I loved having the last word. This made him crazy. I used to love to make him lose his mind. It tickled me to no end.



My trust in Storm swayed like a pendulum, back and forth. We had good days, and then we had the bad ones. At times I wanted to cut-off my head and roll it like a bowling ball in hopes that he would fall out of the holes of my ears, nose or mouth. This was desperate thinking on my part. Then again, there were moments that I shuddered at the thought of
what if
—what if Storm had never come into my life—my head?

-20-

Puppy Love!

Not again. The jolt came more powerful this time. The colorful lights in my eyes shifted to a gray area. The memories scattered. A force was tossing me about, and I felt sick with nausea. It’s me—seven years old. Good grief, talk about a mind fuck. Just as I got accustomed to my growing self, I’m young again!

I was with my family, spending a typical Sunday afternoon in Central Park. As usual, I was off playing by myself on the swing set when a man pulled
up to the curb in a shiny red sports car. He waved to me to come over to his car.

“Hey little girl, do you want a puppy?” The man called out to me from the open window of his car.

My eyes lit up when I saw the little puppy jumping up and down in the passenger’s seat of his car. I leapt off the swing seat into the air and quickly approached his car.

The man in the car had long wavy dark brown hair and a long mustache covering his upper lip that he licked with the tip of his tongue when he spoke. I noticed that he had the coolest tattoo on his bicep of a thick black cross. The tattoo seemed to be an advertisement indicating that he was a good man.
He
probably goes to church,
I thought. He seemed friendly enough to me.

“Sure,” I replied, with the sun in my eyes, squinting.  Still, I stayed on the far side of the curb.

“It’s a girl puppy. She’s pretty, huh? Just like you.” The man in the car flashed me a hungry grin. At closer range, I couldn’t help but think he looked like the big-bad wolf.

He was right though; the puppy was so adorable. My eyes flashed back to my parents. They were distracted and not paying attention to me, and, instead tended to my little brother, Brett who had just fallen off the monkey bars. I could hear him screaming his head off like he was dying. He was such a little crybaby, and it seemed like he was always getting hurt. I inched a tad closer to the car, in order, to get a better look at the puppy.

My heart was elated because I had been begging my parents for a puppy. They said if one magically landed in my lap that I could keep it. Of course, I didn’t know at the time this was their way of saying
no!
Age has a way of teaching us how to twist our words in such a way so that the outcome tilts in our favor.

Looking back, I am sure that my parents were certain that a puppy wasn’t going to magically materialize in my lap. Of course, what they didn’t know was that I had my very own angel that could make this happen. I was about to get my very own puppy. This puppy was a gift from God.

The man sensed my hesitation—after all, most children knew well enough not to talk to strangers. I certainly knew as much, but for a puppy, I was willing to break all of the rules. The man was kind, sensing my hesitation. He reassured me that it was okay to come closer. He told me he had a little girl, too.

He explained that he had bought the puppy for his daughter as a gift on her fifth birthday, but she’d gotten really sick and went to Heaven—tears loomed in his eyes as he relayed the story. A feeling of sorrow filled my soul too. His story was very sad.

“I will give her to you if you promise to take good care of her for my little girl, Mandy.” His daughter’s name rhymed with my mother’s name.

“Oh, yes. I will. I promise,” I genuinely said and meant it.

“Cross your heart and hope to die, then.”

“I will cross my heart...and hope.” I paused and then said, “But I can’t say the die part.” I bit my lip. I really wanted the puppy but not enough to die for. I peered at him, hopeful.

“Okay, I guess you don’t have to say it. But, if you want her, you will have to get into my car so that she doesn’t run into the street.” His smile disappeared into a straight line as he said the words. “Of course, I can ask another little girl if you don’t want her.” He frowned and drove the car a foot ahead of me. He was going to leave.

“No. I do! I really do,” I said with strong conviction.

I rocked my feet on the edge of the curb, feeling a bit nervous about getting in his car. But, I wanted this puppy more than anything. So I did my best to push the fear aside.