We Didn't Make It After All

Chapter Four

Rendered just a little speechless, I glanced at the piece in wonder.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

"Joannes Parker. The painter. Who was he?"

"One of the founders of Holden. Known to be quite the revolutionary."

"And his descendents?"

"I do believe it's a young man by the name of Ezra Parker. I hear the father's in prison. Murdered the mother in cold blood."

I felt my body go numb.

"It may be mere hearsay. We can never tell with things around here."

"Maybe you know better than to spread hearsay, Edem," I said shakily.

He sighed, turning away from the painting. "Thankfully the boy is being taken care of."

"I'm ready to go now, Edem."

He nodded, leading me to his car. I worried for Ezra's wellbeing as I slipped inside. The desire to take pictures had suddenly gone astray.

The smell of rosemary incense flooded the narrow vicinity inside the car. Sitting down, I observed the rearview mirror from which long wooden beads hung. The center of the dashboard was garnished in vermillion.

It took Edem fifteen minutes to pull into our street. Halfway into the journey, a droplet of rain fell before us. Laden clouds billowed in from the east, stifling the voyages of the dragonflies in the nearby horizon. As a cumbersome stillness veiled suburbia, the scent of an oncoming rainfall seeped in through his barely open windows. Just outside, an enthusing silver of lightning flashed in the fleeting way of our lives. With an unsettling bark, the downpour began.

Edem activated his windshield wipers, pulling over along our curb. "I hope I was of some help today, Narnie."

I unbuckled my seatbelt, providing a polite smile. "You were. Thank you."

"Feel free to drop by the abbey if you ever need anything."

I expressed my gratitude one more time before exiting his car. I felt uneasy with him, like I needed to get out of there. Behind me, the door closed with a deafening thud. It was certainly exaggerated by the thunder cleaving in the distance as a bottle of pills fell from his passenger seat all too quickly, dissolving in the water streaming down the gutter.

I picked up the prescription bottle in an effort to save what was left. It was a benzodiazepine used to treat severe insomnia. As I watched Edem drive away, I made a mental note to return it to him the next time I saw him.

Time passed unfailingly every day. I became accustomed to the monotony of suburbia: to the routine and the mundane chaos. Mama buried herself in her work, hiding in her office even during holidays, when Nana and I held a barbeque with the neighbors before the dreadful Holden winter could confine us indoors.

I was absentmindedly browsing through my phone one weekend when Bella ushered me over from her driveway. I looked up from my veranda to hers. "Narnie!" she exclaimed. "Come on, I want to introduce you to my brother, Micah."

Micah never came to the barbeques. Like my mother, he was a notorious workaholic. I had heard about him in Bella's stories: that he was funny, kind and an unfailing optimist. He lifted his hand in a hand in a slight wave.

I smiled, sitting next to him as Bella headed into their kitchen. She had a soft spot for him that her eyes expressed with unequivocal pride. Her love had been strengthened in the past year as Micah had been in San City, completing his law degree. When she came back to the veranda, Micah and I were talking about his distaste for the law. I plopped further myself down on the chair, taking a bottle of lemonade beer from Bella's hand.