Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Uncle John’s Difficult Confession

 

"I want you to know without the slightest modicum of doubt that I loved your mother," Uncle John began. His eyes had taken on the luminous, pale green glow that they both had when either of them cried, or were close to tears. Annaleah made herself look her uncle in the eye, out of respect and gratitude for his willingness to finally open up to her about something he had kept secret for so many years.

"Of course I know you loved her. Why would I doubt that?" Annaleah asked him sincerely.

Uncle John nodded. "Please remember that Annaleah, during this conversation." He bowed his head, eyes closed. She could see he was going inward for strength and the right words to say.

"Your mother was a very special woman. She loved life like no one else I have ever met. She was so happy. The smallest things would make her glow with joy. The first columbine of the spring, dancing barefoot in the rain, singing to the moon. She was always kind, always helping others, even at her own expense at times. But she did have her faults, Annaleah. Despite being one of the most innocent people I ever met, she was also.... one of the most ungrounded. The doctors said it was schizophrenia."

Annaleah felt as if she had had the wind knocked out of her, as if someone had kicked her hard in the chest. What had he just said? How could this be right?

"What? Are you serious?” She exclaimed incredulously, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?"

Uncle John opened his eyes and looked at his niece, the green of his orbs now almost aflame as tears spilled freely down his cheeks.

"I am so, so sorry. It didn't seem fair to tell you about her disorder and take away the beautiful picture you had of your mother. She was a wonderful person, but she was, at times, very unstable."

Annaleah was silent, her head spinning. She listened to Uncle John through a veil of shock, trying not to let the distress at what she’d learned over take her senses. When a tear fell and landed on her hand, she looked at it curiously, unaware she had been crying.

"One morning, I found her outside, barefoot and in her nightgown. It wouldn't have mattered that much if it were spring or summer or winter even, had it been like most winters here in the south. But this particular year, it was a harsh winter. It had snowed the night before, at least a couple of inches. It took me a while to find her. I had to follow her footprints in the snow. They led from the house to the woods, to some clearing I had never seen before, nor since. I still can't figure that part out. When I found her, she lay crumpled in a pile, shuddering, half frozen in the snow. Though shivering and barely conscious, she was smiling. I threw my coat over her and carried her inside. Fearing hypothermia, I called 911. After they evaluated her at the hospital, they wanted to admit her to Castlebrook."

Annaleah covered her face with her hands, and tried unsuccessfully to hold her sobs back. Her heart broke bit by bit as she listened to what Uncle John’s deep voice. It broke for herself, having been robbed of the beautiful picture she had always had of her mother. It broke for Uncle John, who’d had to keep this from her for so long in an effort to protect her. She thought about how hard it must have been for him to carry this painful secret, knowing how badly she had wanted to know the truth, and another wave of deep, aching sadness washed over her.

Of course it had broken for her mother too, for having to suffer a form of psychosis that must have confused her senses and expectations of reality. Annaleah knew too well what it was like to be different, to be misunderstood, to be feared for being different.

Annaleah thought of Castlebrook. It was the town's psychiatric ward. Everyone from the mildly troubled to the wildly disturbed were sent there; from wards of the state to the rich and pampered. Though it was a well-respected place, it wasn't somewhere anyone would want to find themselves.

"I didn't want to do it at first. I thought I could take care of her myself. After she was released from the emergency room, I brought her back home and tried to take care of her the best I could. She was sick with the flu, but bless her, she was still so happy. She said she had been talking to angels that night in the woods, and she believed it with all her heart and soul. Part of me believed her too. She had natural abilities as a healer, among other things.

“Then she disappeared a few weeks later, during another snow flurry. I found her wandering lost in the woods, barefoot again, and muttering to herself. Her feet were scratched and bleeding and she had cuts all over her, even a few deep gashes. When I tried to help her, she acted as if she didn't even see me. I allowed the hospital to transfer her to Castlebrook that night."

Annaleah listened to Uncle John, her breaths slow and steady, and her eyes wide as she tried not to let her sadness and disbelief overtake her. She trembled slightly as she stared at the floor. Unblinking, tears fell in large droplets down her cheeks.

id this mean she was mad, too? It made sense. She was at the age when the symptoms of Schizophrenia began to manifest. Were her dreams and visions a sign that she was losing touch with reality and slowly spiraling into a world of psychosis?

Annaleah squeezed her eyes shut and slowly shook her head from side to side, trying to deny the thought that she might be mentally ill. There were too many coincidences. Uncle John had mentioned the clearing in the woods. Did mental illness share the exact same facets of delusions? She didn’t think so, so as she listened to Uncle John continue, she held this precious kernel of hope to her heart.

"A few days after she was admitted," Uncle John went on, "I got a call from her case worker at Castlebrook, asking me to meet with him. When I got to the meeting, they had her sedated. I couldn't even see her. They told me something that at the time I couldn't understand.” Uncle John took a deep breath, his eyes wide. “Annaleah, they told me she was pregnant." He let out his deep breath, and a single tear made its way down his flushed cheek. He took his glasses off and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief before repositioning his glasses on his nose. Annaleah would have accused him of stalling for time had she not been so out of sorts herself.

"Though she had a good standing with most people nearby," Uncle John explained, "she didn't have any real friends. You know how it is to be different. To be judged, feared, even hated for what you are should you dare to deviate from the norm. You can understand my surprise when I found out she was with child.” His eyes had taken on a deeper shade of green as they looked intently at her, his expression somber and serious. “The caseworker asked me if I knew who the father was, and I said I didn't. I asked him if Elise had told them who had gotten her pregnant, and they told me that she had insisted the father was an angel that she had met that night in the woods when I found her crumpled in the clearing.” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “They wanted to find the father because they feared she had been assaulted.” He returned his gaze to her, his eyes softened, sad. “They even put her through a polygraph test, which she passed. Your mother believed with all the conviction in her heart that your father was an angel."

Annaleah could see how farfetched this had appeared to Uncle John. It sounded pretty shocking to her as well, even after all that she had been through.

Annaleah reached over and grabbed her uncle’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly, sad that this had been a burden he’d had to carry alone. Did he think the same thing was going on with her now? Did he fear for her mental health, fear that he would lose her too? She knew his heart was breaking, that letting go of the secret after so long must be taking a toll on him.

She took his hand and kissed it gently, her tears falling onto his hand.

Part of her believed in what her mother had said wholeheartedly, without question. Marchosias, Satanael and her mother had told her in Dream Time that she was one of a kind, unlike any other. Wouldn’t it make sense then, that her mother hadn’t been mad at all, and that she was indeed, the daughter of an angel? And what about the spiders? Could hallucinations follow you out of a delusion?

Wiping at her tears, Annaleah asked, “Do you think I’m crazy, Uncle John? Do you think maybe I should go to Castlebrook?”

Uncle John leaned forward, and looked her deeply in the eye. “No. Not ever.” He squeezed her hand, the corners of his mouth still drawn out, twitching, as he fought with his own inner turmoil. “I want you to know that I never would have put you in Castlebrook. Taking care of you and watching you grow up has been the greatest joy of my life. I wouldn't take back a single second of it. You have changed me so much, helped me to grow, and because of you and who you are, I have had many sleepless nights myself, wondering if somehow, what your mother said was true."

Hearing this surprised Annaleah. Was he saying maybe she hadn’t been mentally ill after all?

Confused, Annaleah looked down at her hand in Uncle John’s, “wait, you said she had Schizophrenia, now you’re saying maybe she didn’t? Why? I don’t understand.”

Uncle John tilted his head, the look of sadness abating as the warm, sweet glow of love filled his eyes. "Because Annaleah, you are so special. You spoke your first words at six months, and were speaking in full sentences by the time you were a little over a year old.” Uncle John leaned forward, looking her more deeply in the eye. “When you were born, they said you were born with a caul. I also know that being your mother's child had an effect on your talents; your ability to know certain things without being told, or your ability to see into a world others simply refuse to believe is there at all. That film over your eyes when you were born opened your inner eyes to a truth much deeper than most of us will ever know.” He shook his head wistfully as he spoke, as if he too wished he could sense this wonderful inner truth he was talking to her about. “Perhaps it also has something to do with your inherent goodness and kindness. They say those born with a caul can defeat all manner of evils. I'm sure, being an occult expert, that you know that too. I’m not sure, however,” he said, tilting his head as he spoke, “that you know you were not born with the normal blue of a newborn's eyes, but that your eyes have always been green. The doctors had never seen anything like it. Babies' eyes turn colors after a year or so, after they are exposed to light, but yours were always green.” He shook his head once more, as if he were still trying to grasp what he was telling her. “There are so many things like that, honey, that make me think there might have been something to her claim. Then my rational mind takes over and tells me there is just simply no way that an angel could have fathered you. It has been an internal battle I have waged with myself, and one I never wished for you to endure."

Annaleah thought of her dreams, and of everything that had been happening to her in the last couple of weeks. What if what uncle John had told her was true to the point that it was more evidence that her dreams were real, a meeting place of sorts, a portal from this world to many others? What if being the daughter of an angel meant that she could attract these situations?

For a moment, Annaleah debated on whether or not to tell him about her dreams. It could put his mind at ease to know that she could really be half angel, and that her mother hadn’t been lying. Maybe he would have some suggestions, or more information to tell her that he might still be holding back. He was her uncle after all, and he deserved to know.

As she looked at him, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of worry creased into his expression, and the heaviness in which he held himself. He was exhausted, not just from his confession, but from worry over her health, and from the ill effects of his own health issues. He was trembling slightly, and seeing this made her heart break even more. Now was not the time.

Annaleah shook her head, her hair falling into her face and smearing the tears there. “You’ve been keeping this inside for so long. I’m so sorry,” She whispered, and held her arms out to him, needing to hug him for her own comfort, and to reassure him that her love for him was still as strong as ever.

Annaleah felt her love for Uncle John flood through her as they held each other, and more tears came. She was confused and upset, but there was nothing that he could ever tell her that would make her love him less. He was so brave, so loving, to have done what he thought was the right thing to do, even though it must have hurt him every single day.

Before either of them could say anything more, a knock sounded at the door. Still hanging her head, Annaleah looked up through her mess of hair and tears, not caring what she looked like. She didn't feel like company.

Seth walked into the room, carrying an armload of books. When he saw the two of them, his face registered the intensity of the situation, and he began to back out of the room. "I'll just come back later, Annaleah, I am glad to see you awake though."

Uncle John got up, shaking his head. "No, please, let me leave. I think Annaleah needs you here now. I’ll wait for you outside if you don't mind. I’m too tired to walk home tonight."

“Of course.” Seth replied as Uncle John gave Annaleah a goodbye hug. She didn’t want to let Uncle John go. He looked like he could use a break from the intensity of what had just transpired, so she didn’t ask him to stay.

"Let me help you to the door Uncle John." Seth went to Uncle John’s side and tried to put his arm under his for support.

Uncle John laughed and shook him off gently. “Thank you, Seth, but I’ll be alright. I’m just tired. I’ll meet you outside.” He smiled, looking ten years older than he had just a few days ago.

"See you later kiddo, I love you." Uncle John whispered in her ear. Annaleah told him that she loved him as well, holding back more tears. He looked so frail that she felt guilty for asking him to tell her about her father. It had clearly taken a lot out of him.

When he reached the door, he turned and blew her a kiss before he exited.

"What on Earth happened?" Seth asked, his blue eyes wide.

"Apparently," Annaleah began, wiping at her eyes, "My mother was a schizophrenic who thought she talked to angels. She was either crazy and thought that my father was an angel, or she really did have an angel for a lover, resulting in my birth."

Seth didn't speak for several moments. Instead, she heard him put down the books and saw him take a seat in the chair beside her.

After many moments, Seth said simply, "Annaleah." When he didn't say anything more, Annaleah looked at him, intent on asking him why he had nothing to say about something so deeply personal and intense.

As their eyes met, what Annaleah saw took her breath away. Instead of the blue she had known and loved for so long, she saw a piercing shade of indigo, radiant in his eyes. Arcs of light played in his skin, their colors electric and protean. He was smiling a peaceful, serene smile.

"Annaleah," he said again, his voice a thousand times more melodic than she had ever heard it before. "Your mother was not crazy, far from it. Don't be afraid. I know I look different from what you are used to, but it is time for you to know the truth."

Annaleah wasn't sure she could handle much more of the truth today.

"Your mother did indeed talk to angels." Seth told her simply. Annaleah found the energy emanating from him to be loving and wonderfully calming.

"How are you so sure Seth?" she asked.

"Because my sweet Annaleah," he said affectionately, "I know your father."