Chapter Twenty-Three

Twisted

The scent of pink turtlehead flowers, white clematis, fuchsia-colored Mexican sage, and lavender monkshood blooms whiffed up Ava’s nostrils, stirring her slumber. Her grandma called the mixture of scents a floralgasm. The term torpedoed over Ava’s head. A single strand of hair wisped and tickled her nose. In no mood to be tickled ever again she let out a large huff and sent the strand backwards.

A lot of things bothered her lately. The only thing a first grader should have had to worry over was what outfit she would rock the look with on her first day back to school accompanied by of course, the perfect lunch box she would carry, not the rest of the drama she’d been subject to lately: Her mom dying. Her brother missing. Her father and the babysitter… she choked on anger at the thought of them together. And then there was the trip to the doctor. The last thing she wanted to worry about, her dumb disease and more needles… Emptiness seemed to have a direct route to Ava’s heart. A frigid void filled her. All she wanted was her life back. Her mom. Her brother. Her dad, minus the muck stuck on his shoe.

Oh, the ring! Ava leant over the side of the bed and fished around for the piece of jewelry from her pant’s pocket. The diamond sparkled just like her star. This ring she would never lose. It was a part of her mother. The only trinket she had left of her.

With outstretched fingers and going for stealth, Ava latched onto the pink-jeweled box and flipped the lid open. She fought a sudden outburst of giggles. Tia slept in the box with Jack, although she clearly ruled the space. Curled-up, jammed in the corner with his crown on, Jack looked about as comfortable as Ava had been all night. At least he was using the pillow and blanket Ava gave him from her dollhouse. Tia lay kitty-corner spread-eagled across the box wearing her crown as well. One of her wings lay draped over Jack’s face. Every time he took a breath her wing rippled over him. It must have tickled because he wrinkled his nose and muttered inaudible sounds but didn’t budge. His hand and the queens were entwined, fingers laced.

“Jack? You awake?”

With a slow response Dionysus went to stretch and then saw his hand in Tia’s. He was very careful to slip out from under Tia’s wing and grasp. Rubbing his eyes he whispered, “Good morning, lil Goddess. I take it you can’t sleep either.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Ava whispered back.

“You didn’t. I didn’t want to wake up our queen bee. Been lying here waiting for you. You’re up really early.”

“My tummy has a knot in it. Been listening to the thunder. There’s a storm coming. Sometimes they can be pretty scary and we have to go below ground for cover.”

“Someday I’ll take you to ride one out above the clouds. It’s nowhere near as scary and quite beautiful. It’s all about perspective.”

“So I keep hearing.” A grin found Ava’s lips. “Jack, am I crazy? Are you and Tia real? And Zeus?”

“Well sweetheart, if I’m fake then so are you. Does that make sense?”

Ava gave a giant nod with a bigger smile. “Completely. We’re both nuts. How come no one other than Tia and I can see you, really? Or how come I am the only one to see Zeus’s wings?”

Dionysus had to think about it before speaking. He didn’t want to scare the kid to death leading her to believe they’d be tied together through eternity if Pandora had her way, but he didn’t want to lie to her either. The kid deserved the truth. She’d already had too much trauma to handle. “Some people call what you and I have serendipity Ava, that we were destined to meet. It is in the stars. Others say dumb luck. You might be thinking bad luck.” He laughed alone.

“I like you. It’s fine. That doesn’t explain Zeus’s wings.” Ava wiggled and propped herself into crossed legs, setting her box in her lap. “How come I am the only one to see what he can do?”

“Again, lil goddess…” Dionysus scratched his head. “You have a special insight to a world others only dream of. You are truly special. To me.”

Someone’s throat cleared. Tia rolled to her side, one wing enveloping like an accordion. She propped her body up on an elbow, with her head in her hand. She piped in, “Dear lord you two are awake early. What’s a queen gotta do to get some beauty sleep around here?”

“Majesty, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine. Kid, Jack is correct. You are special. To all of us.” The queen pixy sat up, glared at Dionysus before brushing her hair from her face and realigning her crown. She licked her lips and finished, “Just because you see magic where others do not does not take away its true element. Some humans are so closed-minded they barely can see their own nose without questioning its purpose.” Tia nudged Dionysus. “Dionysus isn’t one those people.” Tears leaked from the corners of the queen’s eye. She looked at Dionysus. “Tell me that wasn’t funny,” she asked, wiping under her eyes.

Dionysus gave her a sideways glance fighting a smirk. Then he started singing, “I want a new nose. One that isn’t too big. One that doesn’t run all day. One that doesn’t turn red. One that doesn’t cost too much.”

Ava cut him off. “I know that song, Jack, except you changed all the words. Mommy used to sing it all the time. Something about new drugs.”

“Your mom taught you all the great music, Ava.”

“You two, don’t ever stop believing what your eyes sees or your heart feels. Miracles happen all around you all the time. People are too busy second-guessing life to experience it.” Tia stood, stretched her arms, flexed her wings and lifted off. “My grace, please excuse me? I need at least a day’s slumber. I’ll be in the castle if you need me. Your snoring… It is a true miracle no one’s killed you over it.”

“Majesty,” Dionysus rebuked, “That was all you. I never slept.”

Tia started, “I do not—”

Dionysus shut her down, “I know, I know… Snore or fart. Yeah! Got it.” He looked at Ava. “Are all women like this?”

Ava nodded. “Yup.”

“Get some rest, kid. You have a huge day ahead.”

“Will you guys be coming with me?”

“I am at your whim, lil goddess. Only you can decide.” Dionysus shrugged his shoulders, his head leaning on his right shoulder.

“I’m doing some recon stuff, kid. Want to see if I can dig up the location of the others who fell. You’ll miss me for sure.” Tia winked. “Be safe.”

“You too.” Ava giggled as she closed the lid and tucked the box under the covers beside her. Even if she believed she’d gone totally cuckoo, she picked two of the best imaginary people to spend her time with.

***

Greyish-black clouds trundled above the farm making certain any scant trace of sun be devoured, the exception being brilliant streaks of light slamming into the terrain. Storms were about to have their way with the earth. Didn’t matter. Ava couldn’t wait to see her horses. She’d stay with them through the turmoil to keep them company.

One back road away from where she lived, trees were down, power lines tangled in branches better than her hair did ponytail holders. Convoys of emergency vehicles sped past them, all headed in the same direction of Ava and her grandparents. Gnarly roots started to develop in her belly when they turned onto the road she lived on. Firetrucks converged over her property, hoses blasting water into a charred shell of what used to be her home. EMT’s rushed past, lights swirling, alarms blaring. The house she’d grown up in had been destroyed. Water oozed from holes in the siding as steam rose leaving only glowing embers. All of Ava’s belongings were strewn across the property. Ava leapt from the truck before her grandpa had the vehicle in park, leaving Jack locked in his box wedged in the back seat.

“Ava, no!” Both her grandparents screamed in tandem. Maggie pulled the same stunt Ava did, jumping out of a moving truck to give chase.

“You two will be the death of me,” Charlie shouted while his foot slammed down on the brakes making the truck raise the back end completely off the ground and then bounce.

Headed for the barn Ava didn’t stop running. She flew right past her father who was busy consoling his new wife.

“Aves,” Christian brushed Harper aside when he noticed her and took off after her.

“Get the horses,” Ava ordered.

Breathless, Christian yelled, “Ava, the storm is only just beginning. There’s a tornado. It’s headed right for us. Get in the storm shelter.”

“Not without my horses.” The foot stomp she produced made the earth vibrate. Both Ava’s grandma and her father gave a, what the heck was that look.

They were ignored.

Out of nowhere a perfect circle opened in the center of grey saturated clouds. A brilliant, glowing magenta ring encased the opening looked like what appeared to be a whirlpool of fire, eddying, discharging flames and sparks. Lightning bolts pierced the ground around them. It was as if the heavens unleashed centuries of pent-up hatred in seconds. Trees split in two, causing more fires to ignite. The flames jumped from one tree limb to the next. A lethal game of fiery dominos entailed. Hail, the size of baseballs found targets no major league pitcher could ever hope to ascertain. The tin roof of the silo amplified the noise. Ava covered her ears while she made her way inside Halo’s stall. The horse gave her a low nicker greeting. Ava got on her toes and kissed the horse’s nose. “Hi, baby.” She grabbed a bridle from a hook and coaxed the horse into it. Once Halo had her bridle on Ava ran to the next stall and did the same to Whizz.

Once she came out of Whizz’s stall her temper reached boiling point. “A little help would be appreciated. Jeepers, Dad, did you do nothing while I was gone?” Ava’s voice out amped the raging storm. In a panicked rage she ran to the last stall. “Where’s Lolly?” She didn’t see the horse anywhere. Fear thumped in her chest. In one fluid spin Ava was in her father’s face screaming, “Where is Lolly? What did you do to Ayden’s horse?”

“She broke a leg in the field when Harper rode her.”

“No!” She knew exactly what his next words were. “Don’t you dare say it, Daddy.”

Christian wouldn’t look at her. She turned to her grandma who was busy leading the two horses out of the barn.

“Grandma?” Tears fought for an exit and rushed her cheeks. Arms tight across her chest, Ava hugged herself while her legs shook.

Maggie met Ava halfway through the barn and brushed her hair from her face. “Come on, lovie. Let’s get the carrier hooked up to the truck and get these guys to safety. Christian, someday you’ll pay for the hell you’re putting this child through.”

“I don’t understand any of what or why this is happening,” Christian confessed as he followed them from the barn. “I am lost.”

Not a foot outside of the barn her grandma turned back, rushing to get back in. “The hail, its treacherous. The horses will have to ride the storm out here, lovie. Come on. Head for the shelter.”

About to protest with her last breath Ava heard what she could only describe as a freight train coming straight for them. At the far end of the meadow a hungry funnel dropped out of the sky and touched down chewing up anything and everything in its path. In the distant meadow a whole house went in, splinters came out. A cornfield disappeared to leave bare husks scattered in its wake. The tornado’s high pitch popped her eardrums. The walls in the barn began to expand and contract the way her mom’s chest did when she was in the hospital fighting for her last breath.

Roof panels groaned, giving way to the driving fury. Rain poured in. Halo and Whizz reeled back on their hind legs, both kicking blindly. Their eyes were wild, huge. Their ears pinned to their heads, snorts of heartbreaking fear hit Ava. Whizz came down hard clipping Ava’s father. Christian fell on his back and the horse stomped on him square in the chest. If Ava didn’t know better she’d have thought the horse did it on purpose. Christian made no move to get up or out of the way. Without thinking Ava jumped and grabbed the reins to get the horse off him before he killed her dad, if it wasn’t already too late.

“Daddy? Daddy, wake up. Please? Grandma get him up.”

“I’ll send your grandpa after him. Come on.”

Her bottom lip quivering, Ava whimpered, “Grandma, I don’t understand any of this.” She bent down and kissed her father. “I’m so sorry. I do love you even if you don’t love me anymore.” He never responded. “I never told you or mommy. Please don’t hate me too.” Her face drenched, hard to tell if it was tears, rain or both.

Ava stood, feeling years older. The innocence of a young girl gone. She’d turned into a miniature version of an adult overnight. She pulled down on the reins, and in a very soft tone spoke to the horse. “Whizz, it’ll be okay. I’m here now. It’ll be okay.” At that point Ava really wasn’t sure she was trying to console the horse or herself, but the horse settled.

Her grandmother nudged her. “We got to get out of here, Aves or we’ll all die.”

The hefty wooden beams supporting the barn’s second story cracked spooking Ava, her grandma, and the horses. A huge portion of the hayloft broke free, hanging by a prayer, spilling bales of hay and loose dirt to the lower level they were on. Another loud snap immediately brought the rest of the loft down, just missing Ava, but crushing Christian’s legs. He never flinched.

“Daddy!” Dust made it almost impossible to see through. Ava fought to hold onto the reins with one hand and fiercely rubbed her eyes with her free hand. She couldn’t get a breath without choking. Splinters bore through the barn like arrows and with a loud creak, the back gate to the structure sailed into the unknown. From behind her, Ava’s grandpa grabbed her and pried her fingers free of the reins on Whizz. “You’re coming with me, kiddo. You can hate me tomorrow, but at least I’ll have that rather than regret.” Charlie slapped the horse on his butt as hard as he could and yelled, “Run Whizz, and don’t look back.”

Maggie followed Charlie’s lead. She let go of Halo and shoved the horse’s butt towards open ground. “Run wild baby. Run.”

Both horses fled, leaping the fence in the field as if it didn’t exist, hooves kicking up muddy earth in their wake, nostrils flaring, tails in a straight line behind them, they ran in the exact opposite direction of the storm.

“Daddy, I’ll come back for you. Promise.” Ava screamed being carted out of the barn like a sack of potatoes under her grandfather’s arm.

In the musty fallout shelter three firefighters sat on a cement bench, all jammed in thigh-to-thigh, caked in mud and stinking of smoke. Ava blamed the men’s odor for her eyes tearing. If everyone would stop starring at her, maybe she could think straight. Claustrophobic, she despised being in confined spaces. How Jack had survived as long as he had amazed her. Then her heart screeched to a stop.

“Jack!” She stood. So did Charlie and without another word he pointed back to the bench. Ava sat knowing the storm shelter only had one way in and one way out.

Her grandparents sat like sentinels on the stairs blocking the opening. She’d never get past them.

She’d left Jack alone in the box, with the sword through the bolt. She’d been playing with it and forgot all about removing it when she saw her home in ruins. He was trapped, alone and probably scared. She needed to get to him.

Guilt ridden, she’d done the exact same thing to him some witch had when she’d promised him she would watch over him.

Missing from the menagerie in this mildewed, muddied pit of despair were Harper and her father. Harper? Well in the back of her mind, Ava hoped the wicked witch landed under a house. Her dad? He was already buried under the barn. With her knees to her chest, her arms secured around them, Ava rocked back and forth. One of the firefighters scooted next to her and tossed his arm around her shoulder. With a glance in the strange man’s direction Ava rested her head on his shoulder. Apparently, he needed comforting too.

When the world around them quieted more sirens and alarms filled the eerie silence. Ava emerged from the shelter squeezing her grandfather’s hand. Sunshine emanated. If Ava had just woke up, slept through the war-struck zone she’d have never known a tornado put what was left of her life into its final spin cycle. Unfortunately, she didn’t just wake up. Looking out at the destruction, hopelessness loomed in the air.

More shredded memories to pick up the pieces too. The aftermath of the storm didn’t compared to the horror of the reality. What the fire didn’t demolish the tornado did. Mud and debris covered everything. A few chickens and roosters with ruffled feathers pecked around looking for food in the rubble of what used to be the barn. No sign of her horses.

“Be careful where you step, Ava. There might be live wires buried under the debris.”

Ava paid no heed. She ran as fast as her legs carried her to the spot she’d last seen her dad.

“Ava!” Her grandfather gave chase, “Stop!” When he caught up to her, he wrapped her in his arms and clung to a struggling little girl. “I’ll let go if you promise no more trying to rip my heart from my chest.”

Through a series of heavy sobs Ava finally shook her head in agreement. “I’m sorry. Do you think daddy made it out? And where’s the babysitter? I hope the wind took her far away.”

“Me too, kiddo.” Charlie once again had Ava’s hand in his grasp as they carefully walked the barn’s foundation, steering clear of the center where Christian had been trapped beneath wreckage.

Slabs of roof crushed posts and beams. Ava’s innocent eyes looked at her grandpa’s older wrinkled ones. The usual twinkle, as missing as her father.

Rusted, battered tin lay sheered into jagged edges. In her path Ava found the sledgehammer. Of all things. “Got to start somewhere, Grandpa.” She picked up the handle, and with everything she had she swung. Busting her way through the debris, she sent hunks of posts over her head, her grandfather ducking and cursing right alongside her. She paid no heed and battled forward on a mission. With the roof broken into manageable pieces a few of the EMT’s carted the remnants off.

“I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” one of the firemen said to everyone, in awe of Ava’s unbelievable strength, will and determination.

“Adrenaline is a miracle drug,” another added.

“That isn’t adrenaline,” Maggie said under her breath, “It is all Ava. It always has been. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Her father is under this mess. Let’s help her instead of standing here,” Charlie urged to those gawking as he continued to haul debris.

In her own little zone Ava continued to swing the hefty hammer. Her sole goal—finding her father. She might have been mad at him, hurt by his choices, but the idea of never seeing him again, and seeing him crushed beneath the roof and walls of the barn hurt as much as losing her mom and Ayden. When she hit the cement foundation her enthusiasm and gusto plummeted. Maybe she had the wrong location. After all, the place looked nothing like it did ten minutes ago. Bent over Ava picked up more junk, dragged boxes out, hauled soaking wet blankets out to the grass, rolled saturated bales of hay to the side, nothing. With her head slumped forward, her strawberry blonde locks matted in an ugly state, her waterlogged clothes adhered to her, Ava skulked past the firefighters and her grandparents.

“Where you headed, lovie?”

“Truck.”

Her thighs burned before she came to a dead stop in her driveway. Her throat clogged. She rubbed her eyes. Her very last straw—her grandfather’s truck had vanished in thin air. She scoured the meadows in search of the vehicle, or a wrecked clump of metal. Nothing. Gone.

Jack was gone. Ava’s legs buckled. She did nothing to stop her fall. Face plant to the ground, she wept. Little sobs turned into wails. Ava found herself knee deep in tears and blood when she went to brush her hair from her eyes. She’d sliced her forehead open on a rock. Head wounds bleed enough on their own. Add Hemophilia to the mix and the area looked like a crime scene. Everything she’d ever loved had vanished. She couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want too. “God, why?” With that question her world began to spin again with the same vengeance the tornado had until a blissful feeling of silence comforted her.